Generations back and forward
Louisette is eight months old this Saturday, which has a special meaning for me: her father has now stuck around longer than mine did (my mum remarried when I was two, and THAT worked out great). It is a peculiar gift my biodad gave me – I already have the sure knowledge that my daughter’s life first year of life is better than mine was. Isn’t a better life what all of us want to give our children? For all my failings present and future as a person and as a mum, I got marriage right the first time. CJ is the biz.
And now for some gratuitous cuteness: pics of Louisette with her month-old cousin (gotta love a suspicious baby, right?), plus a couple more photos just for luck.
Louisette
We’re home after about seven hours of waiting, surgery, and observation. Here’s a pic of her playing with toys in her hospital bed (you can see the small cut near her ear), and another from thirty seconds ago. All’s well, and she’s basically her normal self again (it takes 24-48 hours for the gas to completely leave her system).
Surgery
My baby girl is going into hospital to have surgery tomorrow. Well, technically. In my view, if you’re not going into someone’s insides then it’s not really surgery. I suppose technically that’d be amputation, but that hardly seems right for an extra bit of Louisette that has no useful function – namely, the little extra bit of skin on her cheek near her ear. You can see it a bit in this sequence of photos from this morning:
As her mum, a little bit of extra Louisette is no problem – but if I can reduce the amount of childhood teasing she’ll get, then I’m in. And so CJ and I are taking her to hospital tomorrow, where she’ll have her first anaesthetic (she’s already had a tongue tie cut, but that didn’t need anaesthetic and thus didn’t require time spent in hospital to monitor for possible side effects). For me the scariest part is trying to coordinate up to four solid meals (using only types of food she’s already eaten several times, and including vegetables, starch, fruit, and protein), six bottles (we own four), a number of vomit or food-related outfit changes, entertainment that doesn’t involve letting her chew on electrical cords (the girl loves to get her new teeth into cords), and a near-infinite supply of nappies and wipes.
But tomorrow the deed will be done, and that’ll be a relief.
Cockington Green
If you grew up in Canberra, you would have been to Cockington Green at least once. I’ve spoken before about how much I love Questacon and Telstra Tower, but I’d forgotten entirely about Cockington Green. It’s nestled in amongst a score of other touristy places in Gungahlin, and worth a visit for anyone over two (although 2-5 is a dangerous age, because it’s definitely not for touching).
My mum, my sister, Louisette, and my sister’s two girls just visited Cockington Green for the first time in a decade – maybe even two decades.
It was also the first time Louisette and her toddler cousin rode in a double stroller together.
The toddler likes trains and was totally overwhelmed by the experience.
When we finished the ride she refused to get off, and it wasn’t easy to extricate her from the fence, either.
Read the full article (for which I now get paid, and paid per reader) here.
Danger and Delight
Louisette is such an easy baby that I very rarely have doubts about the mummy life (in fact, I’m waiting on one more publisher response before winding way back on the writing and blogging time, since it’s easy enough to rev things back up if one of the other publishers I’m currently waiting on – who won’t reply for at least six months – want to publish).
With sentences like that, it’s simply astonishing that I’m not yet living the life of the rich and famous*.
One thing that does scare me, however, is toddlerhood. It combines maximum energy with minimum self-preservation instincts – and sudden independence with the inability to clearly communicate. My own mum has pointed out that a toddler can understand heaps, and can say and do and understand more all the time – which will clearly make all the difference at the time. Nonetheless, I’m a little scared.
In the meantime, the horrors and joys of teething continue. She’s had some grumpy times lately, and has been waking up in the night almost every night for a fortnight. It’s 2:30am right now.
Teeth come through in pairs, so we’re very much waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’s developed a habit of sucking in her lower lip, which gives her a philosophical air.
And of course, she’ll chew anything that stays still long enough.
In unrelated news, last Sunday was my mum’s birthday, and for the first time in years all her descendants were in town at once. That’s my brother and his wife and son on the left, and my sister and her family on the right.
It’s always great for Louisette to see her oldest cousin (seven years older). . .
. . . and her youngest (three weeks old – what a difference seven months makes!)
*Or the author equivalent of the high life, which may sometimes peak as high as minimum wage.
Discipline
It turns out Louisette is fascinated by her two-week-old cousin. Which is awesome.
Also somewhat concerning.
Given that Louisette can now happily crawl across a room, and is on the verge of being able to then pull herself into a standing position. . .
. . . we have to do two things immediately:
1. Assume that everything in the house up to a height of 150cm (almost my height) is hers to destroy (I changed the books on this shelf last Friday).
Last weekend CJ went on a shopping spree at Bunnings and we spent many hours making her room and our living area as safe as possible for a crawler (I suspect based on the way she climbs over us that she is soon going to surpass our current safety level). I used up a whole roll of gaffa tape attaching adjustable fences around heaters, cords, etc, and filled two two-hundred-DVD wallets with most of CJ’s TV and movie collection (you’ll note it suddenly belongs to CJ) so we could empty our lower shelves. And we placed a barrier on our TV equipment not a moment too soon:
2. Start the long journey of teaching her to be a good person. The words, “No!” “Ouch!” “Hot!” “Yucky!” and “Gentle!” will be sung in and endless chorus for the next few years, and I’m even more scared by that than by #1.
At least we don’t have to focus on social niceties yet – just harm to others, herself, and our stuff.
I’m scared.
The power of story
Cracked is a comedy news/science website that is often not safe for work (or children). But every so often it gets inadvertently inspirational – such as during the article “Five Ways You Don’t Realize Movies Are Controlling Your Brain“.
Here’s the bit I liked best:
The point is, this is why stories were invented — to shape your brain in a certain way. A guy named Joseph Campbell wrote whole books about it, you should read them. These basic stories, these myths of the hero overcoming the odds, the great man who sacrifices himself for the greater good — they’re what make civilization go. In a society, the people and the buildings and the roads are the hardware, mythology is the software.
And while your ancestors had their heroes that they heard about around the campfire, you have Batman, and Luke Skywalker, and Harry Potter. And yes, the movies you watched this summer serve the same purpose as those ancient myths.
Read more: 5 Ways You Don’t Realize Movies Are Controlling Your Brain | Cracked.com http://www.cracked.com/blog/5-ways-you-dont-realize-movies-are-controlling-your-brain/#ixzz22zmCeBYl
Poppa’s Hat
Louisette’s crawling is coming on amazingly. She’s more fluent every day, and I like to put a bottle on the floor and have her crawl over to grab it just before a feed. Her confidence is skyrocketing and you can see by her face that she knows how far she can go (up to about two metres. . . pending distractions).
My hip is much better, thanks for asking. My job is going swimmingly.
Louisette’s adorable new cousin is doing great.
Louisette also developed a sudden and passionate desire for her grandfather’s hat.
New baby!
My sister had a second baby this morning. Both she and the baby (a girl) are doing brilliantly. Louisette’s exalted position of the youngest in her generation has been snatched already (at six and a half months) – yep, my sister and I managed to be pregnant at the same time. We are all over the moon.
Felicity Banks 