My little. . . .
Today Louisette took her walker into the kitchen, threw it repeatedly on the ground, and screamed in inconsolable frustration for ten minutes. Then I finally figured out what she wanted, and unscrewed one of the large plastic screws holding it together. She spent the next half hour delightedly examining the pieces. Perhaps she’ll be a mechanic someday.
Nowadays her vocabulary (some of which fades from use for weeks before reappearing) includes Mum, Dad, more, no, yeah, oh yeah, oh dear, tickle, duck, dog, woof, cat, broom-broom, ball, book, hello. Farmer? Telephone sales rep? Sportswoman?
She has a toy knife which she LOVES. All day she walks around with it clutched in one fist. Just. . . . ready. Boy, she sure loves that knife.
Time to stop guessing Louisette’s future. Stupid idea, anyway.
Take that, Maxwell Smart
This week, Louisette (who has been wandering around the place holding a toy mobile phone to her ear and saying, “Hello! Hello!”) invented the shoe-phone.
I took photos, but I’m still having technical problems so I’ll have to show you later.
Walking
Last Friday, when Louisette and I were picking up another child from her school, we were very early and I decided to see if she could walk the whole way to the classroom from the carpark. She did – and then wandered around the play area on foot for another twenty minutes. That day marked the end of an era. She’s certainly slow and easily distracted, and she falls on her bum plenty – but there’s no looking back now.
On Sunday we went to the Commonwealth Park castle playground with some friends, and she walked to the playground from where we were sitting – with a little help from her friend.
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Are we there yet?
Nope.
Still haven’t exchanged contracts. Still nothing wrong, though, so that’s good. Just endless paperwork and waiting for other people to pass all their bits of paper around the circle three times and/or until the music stops. Something like that.
It should be official sometime this week. For reals this time. . .Â
Experimentation
I’ve noticed while minding Louisette and other toddlers that most of their time is spent exploring the world (requiring little more than observation on my part, which is awesome since conversations are a teensy bit repetitive): tasting, pulling, turning, shoving, trying on, putting something into a box, taking it out, etc etc. Can I lift the lid while sitting on it? What noise do ping pong balls make when I knock them together? What do cat eyeballs feel like?
They use a true scientific method, trying the same thing over and over until they have enough data points and can move on (pending further research). Speaking of movement – it’s a good thing we’ll be moving house soon (assuming nothing goes horribly wrong 🙂 ) because Louisette has just realised she can climb bookshelves. Including the ones that are holding the safety gate in place. The safety gate at the top of the stairs.
Hopefully the cat eyeball thing will continue to interest her a little longer.
Sadly, pics don’t seem to be working at present. I may or may not make it up to you someday.
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Tick. . . . tick. . . . tick. . . .
So we haven’t signed contracts on our house yet. Not for lack of trying, believe me.
It generally takes 1-2 weeks for real estate agents, lawyers, buyers, sellers, and banks to all formalise the “yes” that they said at the beginning. Or before the beginning.
CJ and I aren’t that badly off. We’ll sign the contract on Tuesday, and then it’ll do a quick circuit of the aether before everyone else can sign and we’re safe (from gazumping at least).
Rationally, it’s unlikely we’ll get gazumped at this stage. It would have happened by now. But if thirteen years of novel writing has taught me anything, it’s that when you work really, really hard towards a goal for several years, and then put everything you have into making it happen, the result will be a wait that turns out to be much longer than it should be – followed by disappointment. Then more work, more waiting, and more disappointment.
This is the same oft-repeated scenario that threw me into a wild pathological panic the instant CJ and I began trying to make Louisette (which, for the record, happened much faster than the average, which is 6-12 months). After thirteen years of (mostly) meaningless toil and rejection, I have a problem with waiting. I may or may not get over it sometime. In the meantime, I attempt to at least BEHAVE rationally – which in this case means not changing my mind at the last minute and spending four years of savings on a super nice boat instead of a house (a boat made of imported chocolate and gold, presumably).
So that’s where we are at the moment. Everything will most likely be fine and dandy in a few days, but right now I’m so panicky IÂ can barely dress myself.
I’d put a picture of our new house here, but with google image search you could then find out our address. . . . so that won’t be happening until I can take photos myself.
Puppies!
Louisette met two chevalier puppies for the first time this week, and the three of them got along swimmingly – with a certain amount of mutual caution.
Don’t you dare gazump me
To cut an extremely long and painful (so far) story short, CJ and I have stumbled across a house that is both lovely and (in this market) terribly cheap. It has four bedrooms and two bathrooms, and is only a year old. . . which is particularly amazing given that we only ever looked at three bedroom places that were as cheap and dodgy as possible. And yet, here we are.
We’ve offered a good deal more than the asking price (knowing full well we weren’t the only ones making an offer) and although our offer has been accepted it’s still possible for someone else to make a higher offer and get the house instead of us – it’s called gazumping, and it sucks (unless you’re a real estate agent and/or seller).
So we’re holding our breath, hoping all goes well until contracts are signed. We should be safe by this time next week. I’ll let you know!
Oh, and when we move – Louisette will have a yard to play in, and CJ will have a study again. . . . and thanks to the magic of a semi-converted garage (ie the fourth bedroom), so will I! I’ve never had a designated room for study in my life –Â but with Louisette on the move, it’ll be a lot safer.
Felicity Banks 