Archives for posts with tag: child

Having a kid is all about watching them grow, reaching milestones and marveling at just how amazing each one is. The first year with tornado babe was no different. We sat and watched her every move waiting for those firsts. Smiling, rolling over, laughing, talking, crawling etc. Each one of them perfect, each one out doing the last, all equally the most amazing thing we had ever seen (heaven help our future children, ‘you call that rolling over? your sister totally owned you on that, ps seen that before…’).

Now as we embark on year two with said tornado babe its a whole new ball game. It’s the most hilarious, craziest, funnest ball game ever. With tornado babe up to bat.

No one tells you how awesome the second year is. They get lost in the new baby smell, the tiny and the doll-like features. They tell you about lack of sleep, solicit advice you don’t want or need, hog the baby and if your lucky make you a cup of tea (I kid, I promise I kid). But they leave out the bit about how much stinking fun your kid is when they turn one. And the new firsts, the bests firsts start rolling in.

Indi danced for the first time on my birthday. Daughter of a dance teacher, holds off showing any interest in music until after she turns one. This kid, my kid, made her dancing debut to Lana Del Ray in the lounge room, dancing like her father when he’s drunk. It was hilarious and a little worrying. Her father admits to his lack or coordination. Heres hoping the next one takes after me.

The first tantrum. It was so hard not to wet my self from laughter. The poor child absolutely lost it because the door stop wouldnt come out. Feet stamping, head banging on the wall, hands thrown in the air, the slow slide down to the floor, tears and crying. She doesnt bust out in tantrums very often, but while shes still little they are freaking hilarious.

First poop smell that reaches every corner of the house. How can one little bum offend and upset so violently?!

Cheers. We chink water bottles or sippy cups and Indi now says cheers, sorry its more like ‘chizzz’ with a dog like pant/laugh straight after. Seriously kid. It slays me.

Pretending to talk on the phone. A 14 month old holding the phone over her mouth and nose and saying ‘Elro?’ is enough to make you want to breed again (Note to husband -NOT YET).

Playing with dolls. Talking to them, cudling them, giving them kisses, putting them in the pram and then ramming the pram into other toys so that the pram rolls over and doll babies are thrown out everywhere. So precious.

Kisses and hugs just before you put her down to sleep. The real kind, with meaning and extra slob.

Taking tornado to the zoo and her noticing that there are animals there. Watching her little face light up when we saw the Emus was priceless. She quacked at the giant flock of parrots and called the tiger a ‘gat gat’. How do you beat that feeling?

My most recent first was yesterday when I put my hand out and said ‘Take mummies hand’ and she did. She held my hand and we walked together (all be it for less than a minute). I was dead, killed by cute.

These are the best firsts. The stuff that reconfirms that I’m doing this job properly. That my little tornado babe will be alright.

Much love peeps

xxx

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Little babes wardrobe is vast. She is loved by many, and many spoil her. Yes I do like to buy an outfit here and there, but it’s getting less and less often. The amount of clothes she has grown out of that are in perfect, near new condition would make you gasp.

My little fashionista. The poor little thing doesn’t stand a chance with me around. Dressing her is one of my favourite parts of the day.

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She is a doll. I love her to bits.
Much love peeps xxx

Its time. Its been coming, and now there is no avoiding it. We just have to suck it up and step forward. We can’t sit in denial any longer. And if we don’t do something about it, who knows how far it will go?

We must end the crafting. I am bat shit crazy over crafting. I look for projects so that I can keep my hands busy almost hourly. I have organized, baked, mancrafted, potato stamped, bleach printed, made jam, created art (well in my house it counts as art), upstyled, sewed and painted. Knitting and crocheting are just around the corner. And while I have nothing against those skills, I have never has success with them. Aggression based on lack off success with dangerous objects in my hands is probably not healthy.

The problem is that its my brain that needs a kick start, not my hands. So its back to work. But how do you do that when you have a tornado and no family in Perth to tornado sit? Get a sitter/nanny/awesome person to look after her. Indi has hung out with her sitter a few times now and they get along great guns. Completely forgets about me, probably because she has a new audience, no freaking idea where she gets that from?! So there’s that bit sorted.

But. Yeah there’s a but (insert inappropriate jokes about butts-then quote finding nemo-then giggle-then return to story), she needs to socialize. She needs to spend time with other little’s so she learns manners and how to share, develop new skills and get all sorts of yukky sicknesses which will hopefully build her immune system. So we cross the day care dilemma. Finding a day care that you like is one thing, getting your kid in is another. Indi is on a waiting list, for just one day, with an estimated starting date around the end of February. I’m actually relieved there is no rush. Because its all happening a bit too fast for me.

Combine the sitter and the eventual child care and that means I will have time. Real life, fill with what you wish, free time. And you know what that means? Work. Brain stimulating, challenge yourself, make you think, hopefully not involving crafting work. I feel like I’ve lost confidence in my ability to teach after a year off. So we will see how this working thing plays out for me. Any tips mammas? Besides remember to breathe?

Much love peeps xxx

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