Two tubby hands. She reaches. Carrot shaped fingers. She pulls. Flat palms thumping. She climbs.
Your progressive movement should not be surprising to me, but it is. You are my constant reminder of difference. Of uniqueness. This is foreign my mothering journey. Your sister did.not.move. Until she did. Just like that. But with you? It's constantly disappearing and reappearing and change. It happens quickly, even when I feel like my eyes are permanently fixed on you... which of course, they just can't be. That you see and you want... you do and you get.
It's curiosity and determination and passion. You amaze me. Astound me. Delight me. You, my littlest love, are truly wonderful.
Two Hundred and Ninety Nine - 15.10.14
There are few things I know about toddler, but many I am learning. Parenting you is a journey of discovery. And the path? Twisted. Roundabout. Steep. But following every incline, there is a decent. It's fast paced and equal parts thrilling and terrifying. It's joy and it's frustration, sometimes simultaneously.
Big: "I do switch my listening ears on, Mumma, but sometimes dey just don't wike what dey hearing."
Inhale. Exhale. Today, you've paused for a moment (or twelve) behind the gate marked 'testing'. But part of the journey it is. And it's a road worth travelled, especially with you.
Three Hundred - 16.10.14
When met with resistance, how long to you continue with a single, unchanged method? Do you meet the challenge with persistence? Do you stay and fight, or take flight? No, really?
For you, and for me, it's a juggle. A situation dependant dance, as we find balance together. And today that meant the return of the cot bedside after one short (long) week. But I refuse to see this as a failure. Rather, it is the result of timing that wasn't quite right. For both of us, actually.
We're set to recover from nights of too little sleep, full of too many disturbances snuggled close. Touching distance close. And it'd be dishonest to say that I won't enjoy every sweet second that co-sleeping gifts.
Three Hundred and One - 17.10.14
I was met with a wriggling worm at my feet. It was a happy one, whose face beamed and eyes smiled. She used her hands to move from belly to seated upright, and then to climb my legs and pull herself to a stand. Balancing on her two pudgy feet, she released one hand and placed it in mine. Then the other, both reaching above her little head. Consciousness next moved to her feet. Left, then right. First a wee shuffle, before graduating to full foot lifts - steps - with hands gripped tightly in mine. Every so often, she'd pause for a moment, glancing upward, faced scrunched with delight. How proud she was of herself, and so she should be. While the little worm will remain a while more yet, her transformation has most certainly begun.
Three Hundred and Two - 18.10.14
Through the eyes of a child, the world has no bounds. There's many a thing to be seen, to be touched, to be explored. At times, the demands of the situation push the babe out of their comfort zone. Encourage them to try something new, something untried and untested. For you, the added obstacle of height resulted in you mastering the traditional crawl today. It was shaky at first, but soon turned slow and steady.
However, with you, and most other little beings, I suppose, feelings of curiosity goes beyond the realm of desire. They are instinctual. Most often, a matter of urgency. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and despite the new crawling action you added to your repertoire, there are other, more efficient means of movement. And with that, you stop, drop and worm.
Three Hundred and Three - 19.10.14
Dr Big is in the house today and there's lots of fixing to be done. Broken bones. Sore heads. Scratches and blood. No job too small and certainly none to big to be fixed by a bandaid.
Big: "Knock, knock. I'm at da door, Mumma. You meed to say, 'who's dere?'"
Mumma: "Who's there?"
Big: "It's me. Dr. Big. I'm here to fix all da fings."
Mumma: "Of yes, of course. I have a terrible pain in my back. Can you help me?"
Big: "How 'bout your knee is sore 'cause I onwy hab fings for fixing knees, not backs, okay?"
Three Hundred and Four - 20.10.14
Today you went to see the optometrist for a check up. It's the third time you've been, and it might well be one of the most fun things you've ever done. You get to sit in the big chair all by your very own self. You've mastered the mechanics of the exam chair too; pressing your nose lifts it up and it lowers once your right ear lobe is pulled, if you were wondering. You wear special glasses, locate shapes, play with finger puppets and make funny faces.
Your vision is perfect. Your behaviour exemplary. And our optometrist? Ahh-mazing. Even you think so.
Big: "I weally wike Dr Norm. He's got big eyes so he can see mine and fix dem. He's pretty helpful, I fink."