July 2007 Archives

Hooray for Grandmas

Dear Finn

You're off to childcare again this morning, so I actually have a bit of time to write something down. The reason that I don't have to get off my used-to-be-and-hopefully-will-again bony ass, is that your Grandma is staying with us at the moment. And what a major star in the universe she is. She entertains you, washes, feeds, clothes you, takes you to childcare, even shares a bed with you. Although that is more to do with the somewhat cosy nature of our dwelling more than anything else. You've been having a ball. Nothing like undivided attention from a slightly crazed person, to make you laugh like a kook. I dread her leaving...when I'm meant to be that funny person...attached by a boob to Holly on one side and stirring the cooking with the other hand. How do Mum's do this stuff all on their own?

Your other Grandma (Oma) has been an absolute star as well. Burning up the postal express sending gifts for you and Holly. More things seem to arrive every week. Soon you're going to have the biggest bestest Thomas the Tank Engine lego set in the whole world.

She also sent you a new Blue Bear. You refer to him as Boobear which seems a perfectly respectable name for a blue bear to have. The first night we had him, you were refusing to eat your dinner...and I foolishly suggested that you might like to share your dinner with a starving Blue Bear. You immediately upended him into your dish of tomato pasta to see if he was as hungry as I said he was. The fact that Boobear preferred to smear his pasta all over his perfectly brand new and shiny clean face and clothes proved something very conclusively. Yes yes...your Mother is a dirty rotten liar who will obviously sink to any filthy depths to get you to eat some skanky food not suitable for dogs. Or bears.




Apart from that, childcare, or your reaction to it, has been somewhat changeable. As does my own. I wonder if this is the right thing to be doing after all. I have the beginnings of Guilty Mother syndrome. Mixed with Pull Yourself Together syndrome. They fight in my head. It's rather wearying.

After your first day on which you were fine...even great...you've had one really sad day and one day where Grandma basically stayed with you the entire day and on which you made sad every time she went to leave. They didn't bother to call me on the sad day...so we didn't realise how unhappy you were until the next day...when everyone referred to you as a brave little boy...presumably for attempting to return to the hellish existence of the day before. This has all been exacerbated by the fact that I did not realise (since I've fobbed off the job of taking you to childcare onto Grandma and Dad) that they put you into a different room than the one we spent all our time visiting ahead of time to get you acclimatised to the people and kids. Again without mentioning to me. Should I be worried? Or should I just get on with it? Let you get on with it, and put this all down to teething issues. It's a bit of a struggle. We shall see how today goes I guess.

Your reaction to Holly so far has been fantastic. She is all of two weeks in our lives I realise and you do have some undivided Grandma attention, but you seem fine. You don't seem to mind her annexing your stroller. Or sharing your bath.

You're still fascinated by the fact that she has toes, a nose and a bellybutton. As it should be. I'm as fascinated by you now, as the first time I saw you.

love
Mum


Sisterly Arrival

Dear Finn

I had a couple of blog topics lined up, but they’ve all been superseded now by the mother of all blogs…or perhaps I should say the sister. Your little sister to be a little clearer. Introducing the newest member of the family…tiny Miss Holly Vanessa.
Rather precipitous on her first appearance, and rather impatient as well.

We thought we had another month or so of patting Mum’s big fat tummy and attempting to explain that there was a baby living inside there…but no. Now you can see her for yourself and you’ve been very good. Patting her head gently. Pointing out that she has a nose. Yep. And some feet. Yep. Calling her bebe. She looks a lot like you did at the same time. Your Dad’s mouth certainly has some powerful genetic force driving it down the lines.

I'm writing this from my lovely attractive half-Rm 427, décor by Lubyanka, catering by Flavourless, which overlooks some frightfully enthralling and fortissimo construction site…they must love the sight of all the bare breasted Mamas in the windows. Not surprising perhaps, I’m really quite looking forward to getting home. I miss you.

Your Dad has been telling me about all the funny things you’ve been doing while I've been away. Insisting on putting your Buzzy Bee hat on, straight out of the bath, and parading up and down in front of the mirror, wearing nothing else but. Helping Dad do the washing…you have obviously very astutely accessed he needs all the help he can get.

So far you’ve been remarkably adaptable for which I’m very glad. You understand that Mama is staying somewhere else for the moment, but you seem happy to see me when you come visit, and not at all worried to go home with Dad at the end of visiting time. You get more upset when the lady takes my food tray away and possibly more happy to see that I haven’t eaten all of my avo tea biscuits and maybe there’ll be some sugary goodness for you. Work that motherhood guilt trip while it lasts Mr. It’s carrot sticks for you when I get home. Delivered with lots of hugs.

Tomorrow. Now tomorrow is actually going to be quite a big day for you, because you start childcare. We had lined it up this early precisely so that you wouldn’t feel like it was Holly in, Finn out. The totally most appropriately best laid plans. Sigh. I hope you’ll be OK. It will be just be for a few hours tomorrow to see how you get on, and then eventually for two days a week.

Fast forward: Well you had your first day at childcare now, and apparently you were fine. They rang to say you were getting on really well in the morning, then they rang again to say you were having your nap like you should. So we left you there most of the day.

Your welcoming present from childcare seems to be a virus that has given you a decent dose of croup, says your Mother finishing up the blog at 0530. So I don't think you'll be going back today. Your Dad has been a star sleeping beside you, taking you into the shower with him and generally trying to keep you calm. It was touch and go there for a bit whether we took you up to the hospital, but I think you're OK now.

Ah the drama.
Surburban family we may be, but we still manage to fit some excitement in there, one way or another.
Life with you in it could never be dull.

love
Mum