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From Christmas Dos To Mountain Views

Week 41

How is that even possible?

This time last year, we were celebrating making it to the magical and very personal milestone of week twenty-eight – the week when I was born.

I had been so frightened I would not, or could not carry Little to term, so getting passed Christmas was a big deal in our pre-parenting universe.

Anything beyond week twenty-eight would be a bonus.

Anything beyond week twenty-eight meant Little was already better off than me.

Not considering technological advances of course.

However in my life long fear, she would be afflicted with the same disease as me, there was no room for such logical and even-handed considerations.

I rang my hands like Lady Macbeth. Not out of guilt, but worry. Worry that despite all the evidence to the contrary, suggesting we had a happy healthy baby growing in my belly, that something could go terribly wrong at any moment.

However, anything beyond week twenty-eight, meant all these things and more diminished. Not only in terms of the ghosts haunting my head, but in physical terms also.

I could barely breathe as we inched by the weeks and days heading into my third trimester. However, it was at this point we began to celebrate Little’s pending arrival in a whole new I might actually do this way.

Maybe just maybe, carrying her to term would be possible. And how amazing would that be?

Emily is asleep in her cot. She has been down for ages, so I wonder how far I will get with this before she rises.

I am hoping today’s epic nap is a sign things are a changin’.

We have had an intense few weeks, which has taken Michael and me to the brink of physical and emotional exhaustion and back again.

Christmas week has been a big week for all.

We started with a quiet Monday.

Mummy went through Emily’s clothes and moved her up into single digits. Making her officially a big fat zero.

While daddy lowered her cot to the downstairs level. And not before time. Given a certain cutie cute cute cute somebody can now go from a crawling position to a sitting position, and can pull themselves up into a kneeling position using their cot bars.

If she stretches stretches stretches, she can reach the top rail, but is not quite strong enough to hall herself into a standy uppy stance yet.

Mind you, the child gate at her door is another matter.

Miss climby was reportedly found standing at her cell doorway on Thursday morning hollering to b let out.

There has not been a lot of good sleeping in this house of late

I swear to god most parenting advice articles are a load of rubbish.

Somebody needs to write a no bullshit guide to parenting, and actually mean it. Although it probably would not be, a very long or interesting read. I mean what would it say.

Something along the lines of, sometimes there is nothing else. Sometimes no matter what you try, your baby simply will not go to sleep. And sometimes they will… So suck it up, because this too shall pass…

Sleep regression or not, it is doing us in.

On Monday afternoon, I gave into the physical fatigue, the headache, and the zigzag vision, and went to bed. As in, literally I could not see straight. Everything went white and wibbly very quickly – when that happens, I have no choice but to lie down.

After I awoke, Michael needed to go for a walk.

As in really really really needed to get out of the house, and away from the intensity of parenthood.

Between baby girl’s cold, her teeth, and whatever weird ass thing her brain is doing, it was all too much for both of us.

However what I like about our relationship is, when one of us is at breaking point, the other steps up as a matter of course.

I have never seen him sit, hold his head in his hands, and be utterly defeated by our baby before.

At that moment, a sense of renewed energy surged through my being, and mothering became effortless again.

But God bless my husband, even though he left the house a broken man, he still brought home the milk, and whatever else we might have needed from the supermarket.

I was secretly and oh my God how unexpectedly rewarded later that evening as Emily and I played at the base of the lounge; Missy climby legs, who had previously been trying to hurl herself up onto the couch, while a certain I can see how this is going to end mummy hovered very closely ready to catch one very top heavy baby trying to defy the laws of gravity, as she experimented with the capabilities of her body, suddenly turned, and without support or assistance, took her first step into mummy’s arms.

Talk about a great big Christmas present from the universe!

I have been worried my going back to work would surely mean I would miss her first steps the way I missed her first crawling forward.

However, it turns out I need not have concerned my pretty little head about such matters. Emily so had this covered.

Thank you my little love.

She has not repeated the action since, and nor have I pushed the issue.

Why would I?

I am already missing the days we used to put her on the bed next to me, and she would stay still.

Thank God she has not discovered the entirety of our so not toddler proof house. However, I know it is only a matter of time.

Our days are filled with such tiny intimacies, most of which I forget. However, this one is a gift I will cherish forever.

The beauty being, I cannot unknow, unfeel, unhear, or undo that snapshot in time.

Hands up who loves loves loves being a mama.

Tuesday our Christmas preparations began to gain some momentum. Michael and I tag teamed with the baby; Him going out in the morning in search of nappies, formula, and chocolate. While in the afternoon, I took myself off to work.

How I did not end up assaulting someone as I scrambled through the Queen Victoria Building I will never know.

As in, literally I had to put my fist in my pocket to stop myself from smacking out the guy who obliviously strolled through the chaos, hands behind his back as though he were in an empty field. Completely unaware of his actual surroundings. He stepped on my cane at least three times, as he weaved back and forth in front of me.

What made matters worse, is that in a bid to be considerate of the Christmas crowds, I had taken the smallest of my sticks, which does not even extend a pace in front of me. Therefore, the guy had to really invade my space to accomplish his inconsideration.

He elicited absolutely no response to my directly yelling at him to watch where he was going as I finally found a gap in the masses to move passed.

Mind you, this did not go according to plan, because in amongst the noise, my echolocation had failed to pick up the pillar I avoid without incident each day.

Admittedly, it was not the most dignified look, but what can a girl do. It was not as if anyone noticed.

However, he was not the only one.

By the time I arrived at work, I was completely frazzled, and really had no idea where I would find the strength to face it all over again in a bid to get home.

I hate Christmas I thought as I plonked my bag down.

Meanwhile on the home front, For Michael and Emily, it was rainy and miserable, so there were no trips to the park to break up the day.

Crawly girl has been very clingy, which means whoever has the baby is not expected to accomplish anything apart from being a human jungle gym.

Not that we mind of course. Although we are thinking, we might need to invest in a personal trainer, just so we can keep up with this mobile monkey.

So much for our we are never going to let her climb on the white leather we are not having kids lounge.

Imaginative play is big in our house, and the lounge has become a giant wall, which needs to be scaled.

Both Michael and I have been known to hop over the top of it, and tumble to the floor like a carelessly discarded throw cushion.

Emily thinks it is the funniest thing.

Up until now, she has used it as a means to reach her daddy more quickly. Be it for a cuddle or a good game of hi. It also makes one of the softest and safest places for her to practice her jumping.

Yes, I have a baby who thinks she can jump, even though walking is not an option.

However, this week we taught her how to throw new Rudolph over the top.

Oh, it is so all over now.

I know we will look back on this time, and curse the day we encouraged such behaviour.

Each day her crawling technique gets better and better. I am pleased to report there is a definite opposite hand to opposite leg motion happening. However, I am concerned with her left leg, as she is seemingly not putting as much weight on it, or moving it in quite the same way as the right.

I also have questions regarding how often I feel her top ribs pop, or hear her shoulders crack as we lift her up; is that supposed to happen?

Admittedly, I am far more confident as a parent now than I was when we first brought our rattly crackly beautiful baby home, but it seems to me, when one worry dissipates, another is there to take its place. Will it always be like this?

No longer do I hear every single movement of those tiny lungs, and it is strange to feel how long her hair has grown as my lips touch the back of her head. Whereas before I was worried about her choking, now I am concerned she will knock her two front teeth out while climbing up the slippery dip, the dining chair, the bookshelves, or falling off the edge of her nappy mat.

Once again, on Wednesday I left Michael and Emily to their own devices, and headed to work. However, things are extraordinarily slow in that department, which means I have far too much time on my hands and far too small a remuneration in return to be able to justify my leaving the house with a clear conscience.

Therefore, there was nothing else for it, but to take my six-year-old niece on a good old-fashioned Christmas tree hunt through the city.

It was strange to have a little hand in mine, instead of a wiggly wriggly baby on my hip. And although a part of me felt guilty for spending time with my sister’s daughter instead of my own, there was some valuable learning, which I could not have received any other way.

Actually as it turns out, the situation was absolutely perfect. Although it would have been lovely if we could have had, Emily join us.

The mother guilt monster of course had to have her say, if you have time to go looking at beautiful Christmas trees, you have time for Little…

However, I put this aside, and Miss silver shoes and I skipped off down the street in search of our festive wonders.

I usually no from the moment I see Jasmine how our interaction is going to play out. And my relief was palpable, as she ran up to me, calling my name, at our designated spot.

Her eagerness to get started meant this was going to be easy.

Not once throughout our entire adventure did Jasmine let go of my hand. Or the one time she did, she was straight back to me before I had time to comprehend my little shadow’s separation.

Whatever instructions nanny had given her before I arrived had obviously been absorbed. She was so considerate and kind.

However what delighted me most, apart from her little girl banter and happy company of course, was the fact not once did I feel like a burden.

Not once did I have to ask anything of her which a sighted mama would not have asked.

Sure, it was eye opening; pardon the pun, to have her spot Christmas trees in shop windows, alleyways, corridors, across roads, and next to stairwells. Where it had not occurred to me there would be shop windows, alleyways, corridors, roads, or stairwells in the first place.

One of the interesting things about being blind is although one’s ears can see further than the eye, in a strange paradox, it can make a girl’s world very very small.

Most of the time I am too busy concentrating on the present, and where I am, to consider what silent inanimate objects might lay beyond my narrow field of shapes and shadows.

So imagine my surprise when Jasmine pointed out an article of Christmas interest, I had no idea existed.

However, I knew where all the good trees were, and was able to point them out to her before she saw them for herself.

Not once did I have to ask her to navigate as my sighted guide, the way I might interact with another adult. I simply took charge, and although we would always stop at anything, which took her fancy, this did not take away from my leadership role.

What a relief. Oh, thank God! I’ve so got this!

I have been afraid for as long as I can remember, that if I ever had children, the stress surrounding my lack of vision, would cause undue strain upon said figments of my imagination.

However, I now know this to be untrue.

I looked after Jasmine well. Moreover, it was natural and not difficult.

I think it helped; the crowds were not as volatile as they had been the day before. If someone inadvertently tripped on my cane, or stepped in my way, they apologised, or moved graciously out of the way.

I did not feel as though I had to protect Jasmine from the hordes the way I do with Emily. I am not sure if this is because she is bigger, and can fend for herself, or whether it was because the stars were aligned, and it was simply a good walking in the city day.

We had a great time. She is a good kid.

Naturally with any comparative expedition, we had a rating system, and decided although the tree at Martin Place, leased to the city of Sydney for an exorbitant amount of money per week was indeed by far the biggest, as it reached the sky, it was not the most pretty.

Who ever thought of renting giant Christmas trees to the government, is an absolute genius. Talk about a low maintenance, high profit business model. I wish I had thought of it first.

The prettiest was the golden tree outside the Dymocks building on George Street. However, I think the four elves, which offered to have an elphy selfy with Jasmine, might have had something to do with that conclusion.

While by far the most beautiful was the tree inside the Queen Victoria Building – three levels high, with thousands upon thousands of twinkly fairy lights a blaze for our viewing pleasure.

As luck would have it, this was situated very close to Santa’s ice castle. Where as we ogled its elaborate trimmings, the big guy himself came out and shook our hand.

Talk about being in the right place at the right time.

However, it got even better, because out of the corner of my companion’s eye, she spotted more Christmas trees. Low and behold, these “trees” turned out to be towers of Christmas ball balls.

What is more, ball balls belonging to one pop-up personalised Christmas decoration stand.

Sure! Because that is where I am going to look for a pop-up shop – Among the exclusively decorated, designer branded expensive shops on the top floor of the snazziest building in Sydney.

However thinking about it now, of course it makes sense; If Santa was situated in such lofty surrounds, then why would not there be a personalised Christmas decoration pop-up stand nearby to capitalise on such lusty consumerism.

Parents are suckers you know.

I mean hadn’t I already indulged in the must have Santa photo? And wasn’t I looking for a personalised decoration stand also?

Up until this point, I had resigned myself to the fact Little would not be having a baby’s first Christmas pink ball ball on the tree.

After all, Michael had said not to worry about it.

However, this coming from the man who also said a Santa photo did not matter, and then went weak at the knees with glee and gratitude when I showed him the result. Then subsequently scanned, printed, and framed multiple copies for our family and friends.

So umm, yeah! Like I was going to listen to him.

As I often do, I simply nodded, smiled, and plotted my way forth, knowing he would appreciate my scheming after the fact.

Jasmine and I picked up one ornament after another, as we lingered among the glitter. Each of us excited to have come across such a special sparkly find.

She did an excellent job in describing the tiny shiny pictures for me as we discussed which we thought Emily would like the most.

However, there was not much time for such frivolous activity. We had still more Christmas trees to find. So off we set again in search of the next contestant in our great Christmas tree competition.

We found one tree, two tree, three trees, four… Some big, and some small. However each of them had their appeal, but none were favoured more than the small dark green beauties with the blue lights near the MYRE food court.

It just goes to show, loveliness can be found in the most unexpected places.

Finally, after a quick sushi break, and extensively traipsing through Sydney’s main shopping precinct, we headed back to nanny’s office for a well-earned rest. And it was only in the moment when Jasmine saw nanny, did she forget where I was. This meant I was left standing in an unfamiliar open plan office, trying to gage where my family were located.

I try and work by the philosophy; you never know what kids will remember, so I always attempt to create a memorable experience.

I can only hope Jasmine had as much fun as I did on our spontaneous Christmas pilgrimage.

Love you sweetie.

Upon reflection, even though my antics took me away from baby girl, and my day did not turn out as expected, I can safely say I came away with a restful mind, and a peaceful heart.

Now I do not have to worry about being too much for Little.

After all, I am her mummy, and I am just enough.

Thursday saw me yet again back at work while Emily and Michael stayed home preparing for our first family Christmas.

I was really tempted not to go, but there was a ball ball waiting for me at the top of the Queen Victoria Building with Emily’s name on it.

Well there would be, once I bought it.

A pearly pink ball ball, picturing a big white stalk delivering a tiny baby in a pink blanket with the words baby’s first Christmas emblazoned somewhere.

It cost more than I had wanted to spend, but I could not resist such an extravagance.

My original plan was to get one for daddy also. However, that went out the window rather swiftly when I saw the price.

Never mind; there is always next year.

When I was growing up, I always felt so discombobulated and disconnected from everything and everyone. I struggled to find a sense of space and a sense of place, be it among the family, with friends, or in the greater community.

I always felt left out, left behind, or as though I were, an unwanted left over.

One of the reasons I work so diligently to create a sense of homeliness for Emily, is because I do not want her to ever feel the same sense of isolation and loneliness I have known.

I want her to feel safe, secure, loved, and looked after by us. And as strange as it sounds, part of the way I provide an anchor for her, is via Christmas decorations with her name, and some silly traditions we are still inventing.

Of course, I know these things are only token gestures, but they represent a deeper meaning. My only hope is the essence of what we are aiming for, as a family is not lost in translation.

Apparently, while I was out indulging in last minute Christmas bliss, Michael and Emily were catching up on some serious park time.

The weather had been miserable for the three days previous, and we have a munchkin who needs to be outdoors.

I am told the bark never tasted so good.

It is always a calculated risk to leave Emily and go to work when things are quiet. Sometimes it pays off, and other times it does not.

I know this is the universe’s way of telling me to become organized, but oh, my God it is stressful. Because what are we going to do in the meantime?

Sure quickly jotting down the basis of Little’s Christmas letter was a good thing, but unfortunately, such sentimentality does not pay the bills.

If only my words had that kind of potency and power…

2016 is a new year, and I cannot help but feel there are different things headed our way.

Thursday the risk did not pay off. However, mum came and rescued me from my fretting and boredom, and took me for our traditional lunch of pastry and coffee. Before I headed home to play in the park with my family.

As part of our new Christmas tradition, I had planned to have some of Emily’s friends over for a Christmas Eve barbecue, but it did not happen. However, Michael saved the day by roasting us an amazing chicken dinner.

Well done honey.

Yippy yahoo finally on Friday Christmas day arrived.

As usual, we woke early. By us, of course I mean Emily. While mummy followed bleary eyed into the day.

Part of our Christmas present was to let daddy sleep in. However, by eight-thirty, we were too excited, so we made him coffee, and Emily jumped on him to wake him up. Then she promptly fell asleep.

This meant we got a quiet grown up breakfast of bacon and eggs, as we waited for her to grace us with her presence.

Actually, miracle of all miracles, we were able to share three quiet meals with one another that day, which is almost unheard of in our place.

Mid-morning we sat down, just the three of us, to open our gifts.

I could hardly believe it was actually happening; Michael, me, and one beautiful baby girl on the lounge room floor, a pile of presents between us, and nothing but time to enjoy our first first first Christmas together as a family unit.

It was delightful to encourage Emily to unwrap her new toys.

She did not quite understand at first, but after much prompting and encouraging, she began to get the hang of this gift-opening gig.

In fact, by the last present, she was reaching for the package of her own accord.

Our theory is, because we used all the same paper, the repetition was similar enough for her to get the idea.

My concern is now we have taught her to tare paper, her beautiful books are no longer safe from such ravaging’s.

Next daddy surprised us by taking us to a new park, where there were two slippery dips, one with a tunnel, and one with a bump. Three rickety bridges, four swings, and a climbing pole which mummy liked a lot.

We swang and we swung, we skipped and we slid, we jumped and we played without inhibition. The park was ours to do what we will.

Michael said Emily’s face was one of surprise when she first saw the playground.

I love that she is beginning to recognise and respond to different environments.

After a quick play, we headed home for lunch. Because what is Christmas day for, if not copious amounts of food.

We were lucky, in that we did not have to go anywhere or see anyone, unless we chose. So our afternoon was spent relaxing at home.

I fulfilled a lifelong dream of sitting on the floor and reading to my daughter.

Merry Christmas everyone.

It was amazing to run my fingers over the dots, and effortlessly decipher their meaning.

I had forgotten what it is like to read for oneself.

These days I am so used to having things read to me, be it by JAWS, Siri, or human intervention, that I had forgotten the independence of true literacy.

Michael had never seen me read braille before. And for about half a second I was self-conscious about it, but reading Christmas stories to Emily was way too important to let my vulnerability get in the way.

At first I stumbled and fumbled over some of the contractions, as I arranged the dots in my mind – was dot one and dot six representative of a ch or a st, and what did they stand for again? But gradually it came back to me, and my reading allowed grew more fluent as we followed fox, bunny and squirrel with their Christmas tree antics.

Most of the time she did not listen, or so it seemed. As she crawled and climbed all over her mummy.

However, it was not long before she too was running her tiny fingers over the words.

Again, thank you so much to my friend April for making it all possible.

One of our Christmas criteria was to swim in the shell pool. So even though the weather was not quite as warm as we would have liked, my crazy husband entertained us by gracelessly plopping down into the cold water. Emily of course could not resist the fun, and quickly followed suit. It was adorable to watch her splash about, even though she was obviously freezing. It completely cracked me up to watch her launch herself from my arms into daddy’s lap, fully clothed as we patted the water from the safety of the grass.

Once she was in, I thought she would jump out quick sticks. However, she stood up, clenched her bottom, and made that happy growling sound she has going on.

I explained to my two nutbags, given I had married into this clan, I would not be joining them in that icy liquid, but instead would be the voice of reason and run a nice warm bath for baby girl instead. As always, Christmas night saw Michael and me quietly watching an old black and white Christmas movie to finish off our day.

Saturday came around too quickly. As usual, Emily woke up several times during the night, and needed help settling.

Like I said, taking care of sweetie pie has felt relentless lately.

Once again I found myself sitting on the floor next to her cot, encouraging her to go back to sleep.

The only thing I can think when I am doing this, is thank God it is summer, because this would really truly suck in winter.

Honestly, I am wondering how much longer we can last at this pace.

Please please please sleep baby girl.

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or a miss match in expectations, but Michael and I really should not have spent the day together yesterday.

We were off our game. Neither of us communicating properly with one another, and neither of us completely comfortable in our own skins, let alone one another’s company.

The more we tried to please the other, the worse it got. The air between us became prickly, as we each silently tried to sort through what and why it was happening. However, the more we tried, the digger that hole became. We simply could not find our usual easy-going place.

Mid-morning we headed out on a family adventure to the Blue Mountains.

However, it was not as smooth sailing as our usual outings.

Michael and I both saw it going very differently in our heads, but such is the way of things in baby land.

We had forgotten how far it actually is to the mountains, let alone if one gets lost.

My husband has no sense of direction, and it infuriates me to no end.

I get frustrated when he does not ask questions, but assumes we will find our way somehow. What is worse is when he listens to the GPS over me.

However, I try not to be the nagging wife, or the wife who makes him feel like nothing he does is right or good enough. So most of the time I grit my teeth, and let him figure it out of his own accord.

I told you so is not an option, and nor should it be.

My husband is a gentle man, and a kind-hearted soul, and does not need me to tare strips off him, even though I may really want to at times.

He teaches me forgiveness and patience, while I teach him… Ummmm…. What do I teach him? Surely, there must be something. Oh, I know, I teach him to laugh.

Poor Emily lost the plot midway through the trip.

She was hungry, thirsty, hot, and bothered. As was her mummy. The only difference being, I could not cry about it.

I did not want to go.

I wanted to be home with a good book, my baby in my lap, and an endless supply of chocolate.

As we made our way up the mountains, we drove into a storm

This was not part of the plan. However being loyal to the idea, we kept going.

Emily melting in the back, daddy feeling like a failure, and mummy tense with her usual low-level motion sickness.

I hate being in the car. It is glary, grey, and glum.

However, we can’t not do things just because it gives me a headache.

Eventually we arrived at our destination, where thankfully the rain had slowed to a drippy droppy sprinkle.

I was desperate to see the waterfall, and after coming so far, I didn’t want to miss out.

However, it was not to be.

We packed Emily into the baby carrier, and headed off down the bush track.

Michael and she in front, and I bringing up the rear.

I was out of practice, and found it difficult to find my rhythm.

Michael did his best to help, and describe which step was where, but neither of us were having the best day.

I felt like a burden – it was horrible.

I felt terrible I was not enjoying our adventure. Especially considering bush walking is one of my favourite things to do, and I have been busting for us to go out as a family and enjoy it.

This is why we bought the stupid complex baby carrier, which rubs baby girl’s chin raw, and leaves marks in her little legs in the first place.

Yes, this is the stuff they do not tell you at the baby expo. So no, do not buy one.

But onward we continued down to the first lookout

So how do you explain to a baby who has never seen a mountain, what a mountain actually is? In addition, how do you explain to them what a waterfall is, if they have absolutely no intertextuality to draw upon?

Oh darling, see those two white stripes? That is a waterfall.

What are two white stripes?

Ok so you see where this is going, right?

In my mind, the falls were not far, however it turns out they are further than I remembered.

Therefore, it was with reluctance we turned back to the car.

I was frustrated because I could hear the water gushing and rushing, but could not experience it as I had envisioned.

I had thought we were going to be able to put our feet in the cool crisp glacial water just as we always do.

But no such luck.

I was concerned for Michael, as he had not carried Emily like that before. We are not exactly at peak fitness these days, which is another thing that has been bothering me. But that is another story.

However mostly I was concerned for Emily, as she had not handled the car trip well, and did not want her to cry with frustration as we were walking.

So back we went.

However, I consoled myself with the fact we went for a walk. SO take that bucket list.

One bush walk down, many many more to come.

Again, as tradition dictates, Boxing night saw Michael and me on the couch with another old black and white Christmas movie.

By this time, we had resolved our differences, and things were back to their happy equilibrium.

While this morning Nicole surprised us with a visit.

Surprised us, because I had not mentioned it to Michael, and because I had forgotten about our arrangement to catch up.

Therefore, it was wonderful to have her knock on the door as we were enjoying the dregs of our morning coffee.

Thank you sissy for your company and bringing loads of good presents for Little

Those stacking cups are a real winner. And as soon as we get some batteries for the toddler tablet, we will let you know how it goes Jess.

Michael managed to sneak off for a swim, which brings us back to Emily’s please may this be the beginning of a new era in sleepiness.

I hate fighting with her to get her down. It seems so unnecessary. However, what else am I supposed to do? I do not like letting her cry it out, but I do not like her being over tired either.

Gone are the days where we could set and forget.

She used to go down no mess no fuss, but who knows if that will ever be the case again.

This afternoon daddy and Little went to the park, and a bit of an explore around the suburb, while mummy began this blog.

On the language front, Emily is becoming quite the little mimicker. Be it emulating the sounds of birdies, puppy dogs, mummy, or daddy.

This morning as we sat in front of the mirror playing with the baby, who lives there, she was practicing her fffff sound.

I try and teach her the soft sounds of the beginnings of words. Particularly using the sounds, she knows.

My theory is, if I do this, then at least when she makes those sounds in an attempt to communicate with us, we can narrow it down as to what she might be talking about.

This morning’s gem however was as we went through different words starting with ffff, such as forgot, fig, fall, friend, frog… When I said the word fabulous, she repeated fab. It was the only word she responded to in my list. And what a great word it is. I must use it a lot.

Ada has become hello, b is still birdy depending on the context, daddaddad is almost anything, accept if daddy is in the room of course. While her wwww has gone missing. There is a vavava and a thathatha. However, the most popular sound of all is the good old-fashioned raspberry. She can blow those like nobody’s business. But her latest sound is to breathe in and out of her nose very very quickly as a sign of happiness.

Her favourite game is the greeting game, but now she has taken it to a new level.

This week she has been experimenting with the timbre of her voice, and loves to take it from a high to low sound.

Her latest tickly spot is under her chin, which makes cleaning her face a very funny affair.

While on the toy front, naughty dolly has been usurped by dragon.

Dragon is one of nanny’s Christmas gifts, along with a cool alphabet book, and a bright orange tutu.

Dragon is big, and green, and full of fun features for a nine-month-old baby girl to play with.

While anything with buttons and noise and sound immediately captures her attention.

On the mobility front, she has come leaps and bounds this week.

Her overwhelm and frustration regarding the space between her and us as we cross the room has been evident all week. However today she seemed to handle it a lot better.

Her crawl has a new confidence and casualness to it, rather than the monumental effort it has been previously.

She no longer seems intimidated by the idea of movement.

Face planting is becoming more common, as is falling over.

Little Bambi legs thinks she can stand, as long as she holds on to something.

However, her core isn’t strong enough to sustain her weight, and as we all know, babies are very top heavy.

Slowly but surely she is learning to land on her bottom. However, this morning I found her flat on her back, with her activity table up ended on her belly.

God knows how she came to be there, but God knows a lot of things.

Such as how did dragon find himself across the lounge room floor, why is there a potty on Little’s head, and where are mummy’s keys?

Michael says it is adorable to watch baby girl lift her hands up so high in the air as she crawls toward him.

Now she can even go backward on purpose. However, there is no sideways motion. It is up and over anything, which might be in her path.

We think wrestling, rumbling, and rolling over us gives her a sense of special awareness, and security. Because she knows we will work with her in order to achieve a movement, where as a wooden chair will not.

Yesterday I watched her move from a crawling position to a sitting position. While tonight, I found her sitting crying in her cot instead of lying down asleep.

And just as we had mastered the whole rolling over in her sleep thing.

Oh well, here we go again.

I have spent far too much time sitting on the floor of her room in the wee hours of the morning shushing her back to sleep this week.

Lay down honey.

GO to sleep baby girl.


I am not sure what this phase is, but I hope it passes sooner rather than later.

Daddy may be her favourite during the day, but it is me she prefers at night.

Project potty has not been going so well. However, I have not been putting enough time or effort into it.

However, the pool has been a big hit.

Now when she sees it, her little legs start running, and she starts bouncing up and down like a crazy woman.

While food wise, there isn’t much to report.

Although Emily and I have suddenly become far less messy with our feeding. Which is too bad really, because now what will daddy do with his time, if he is not cleaning up after us.

She still teases me by pulling down my top and looking longingly at my boobs. Sometimes if she can get access, she will bite my nipples before giving me that silly look of hers.

My breasts still ache with the need to feed her. However surely there is nothing left.

Could she start again if she wanted?

However overall, it has been a good, all be it tiring week.

Published inThe Blunder Weeks

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