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Friday, November 16, 2012

Onwards and upwards and bumps and bruises

Claire is on the move and pulling herself up with whatever she can get a hold of.

It started with a butt shuffle several weeks ago. I would put her down on the floor in one place, turn around, and moments later find her a few feet away. I caught her in action a few times and saw her stretch out one leg, wiggle her butt and inch herself forward in an upright position.

The butt shuffle evolved into the military crawl where she would bend forward at the waist, sprawl her legs backwards then proceed to pull herself forwards. This was sometimes frustrating because she couldn't get anywhere very fast and would often just flail around on the spot like a fish out of water.

Perseverance paid off though as she soon figured how to get one knee and then the other underneath her body to give herself some lift. Soon after she was scooting along in a full crawl. Once reaching her destination like a chair or my leg, she would hoist herself up to her feet.

Last week during bedtime story while C read to Lauren,  Claire pulled herself up holding the bedside table. Then let go. Freestanding. The three of us watched for 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 seconds. It was amazing. She held the table again and we all applauded and cheered. Claire screeched in delight and pride.

Could Claire be walking any day now? Who knows. Maybe she'll just keep on crawling and cruising until the time is right which could be in another 2 or 3 or 5 months from now. We'll just have to keep watching.

In the meantime the gains haven't been without a little pain. Dr. B assured me yesterday at Claire's 9 month check up that baby heads are very hard and "designed" to withstand a few bumps. Phew, because it seems to happen on a daily basis, and between her forehead and knees, she's got a collection.


Sunday, November 11, 2012

Wonder woman

Sometimes I astound myself.

On Friday I moved the sofa bed from our home office on the second floor of our house all the way to the basement. All by my freaking self! Mind over matter. And I did it without straining a muscle or scratching a wall.

Moving the sofa to the basement is one of the last pieces of my master plan to turn the basement into a comfortable and functional play area and guest room. This project has been on my to-do list for 3 years, and for the last several months I've been getting it done slowly and surely.

I figured that we bought a whole house, so what a waste to use two thirds of it while the basement is left forgotten except for storing junk that we never use.  So item by item, I've been getting rid of stuff we don't need. The old VCR and DVD players and miscellaneous electronics were sent to recycling heaven, the giant cathode ray tube TV was put out in the front yard and taken away by who knows who, and the ancient gas stove was picked up by two guys who answered an ad on kijiji. "FREE! If you can get it out of our basement, it's yours."

And after vacuuming the spider webs and adding art to the walls, it's finally looking like a nice place to play and rest.

The final step will be to replace the old vinyl floor with new, but that project can wait. For right now the basement is finally open for action.

Nonstop

I am constantly on the move in this house.

Picking up clothes, sucking up dust bunnies, washing dishes, filling the dishwasher, emptying the dishwasher, putting away dishes, washing laundry, folding laundry, putting away laundry, tidying toys, tidying books, wiping counters, moping floors, filing papers.

Then doing all over again the next day. Then doing it all over again the next day. Then doing it all over again the next day.  Then doing it all over again the next day. Then doing it all over again the next day. Then doing it all over again the next day. Then doing it all over again the next day.

No wonder people hire maids.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Independent four

I was chatting with the daycare teacher this morning and was told that Lauren is very good at dressing herself, and that she's usually the first to get herself ready to go outdoors to play, and she has good manners (asking to be excused after lunch) and is overall very independent. Then said that  Lauren must be like this at home too.

My jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

"No." Was my first response. "But I'm really glad to hear that she's doing so well here!"

C and I have been finding this year to be particularly challenging. We've seen all the symptoms of the "f***ing fours" and can't wait for this marvelous time to pass. There has been a whole lot of whining, crying, screaming, selfishness, sassiness, moodiness, impatience, you name it.

The fours came as a bit of a shock after such a pleasant year with three. But it's not just us that are experiencing sour behaviour. A few weeks ago I was talking with some other parents from daycare and a mom described her child's sass. Then another parent chimed in about "the terrible twos, tiresome threes and f***ing fours". "Oh yeah!!" We all said in unison nodding our heads knowingly.

I won't go into detail about all the annoying experiences we've had this year, but I will mention that getting ready to leave the house in the morning is not my favourite part of the day. However Lauren manages to get herself dressed at daycare seems to go by the wayside at home.

Ah well. C and I take it in turn to blow a fuse on any given day, but we need to remind ourselves that blowing up is not an appropriate response, and we keep telling ourselves to be patient. It's hard. Really really hard some days.

The chat with Lauren's teacher was definitely encouraging and something to keep in mind next time we feel like we're going to blow. "Independent four" is what I'll tell myself. After all, there have been a lot of fun and funny and sweet moments this year too.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Octobaby

In the last four years I've forgotten how challenging, frustrating and downright hilarious it is to get a coat and footwear onto a fidgety 8 month old baby.

If humans had to put clothing onto wriggly octopus babies with all 8 tentacles going every which way, I'm sure the experience would be the same.

It must look like Claire and I are entangled in a game of twister each morning. Me with one of Claire's arms tucked under mine as I try to guide the other into a coat sleeve. One of her legs flailing around as the other tries to hoist her body upwards and away.

I miss summer already when all I had to do was strap her into the Snugli and away we went. No coat, no shoes, no hat, no gloves, no nonsense.