Monday, 9 August 2010

Grace two years seven months, Daisy two months..

So Grace is now the master of her potty. It took a while for her to get used to it. She did lots of crouching near it and weeing, or hovering over it, straining, then announcing "It not working" before promptly going and weeing on the sofa, but now she has it sorted.

She even goes and washes her hands in the sink after (to start with she tried to wash her hands in the wee she had just done).


She has also mastered going for a poo. It involves lots of "It not working" straining trips before she delivers the surprisingly large results, which she then names
"Daddy poo, mummy poo, Grace poo Daisy poo" depending on size (not likeness) before dancing round the potty chanting and punching the air.

Daisy is rather non-plussed about it all, being at the stage where she still delights in making long loud trumpet noises in her nappy. She does smile when Grace shares her "I've done a poo" reward stickers with her though, it's just a shame Grace sticks them all over her face, and presses a bit hard.

Already the sibling bond is evident. Grace will suddenly stop reading a book or playing with her toy to run over and kiss Daisy and say "Love you Daisy". She also like to sing "Daisy Daisy, give me your hand oh Boo, I love Gracey, lets ride a bicycle too."

Yes, Grace is getting into music now. We have a hideous kids music CD which we have to sing along to LOUDLY whenever we are in the car.

Grace's favourite is Jelly on a Plate. Mine is I am the Music Man. Daisy is not really showing a preference at this stage.

It does not take much to make her smile though, unless you are James, in which case it's rather hard work. It seems Daisy has taken against her Daddy. She smiles at the sound of the hoover, her own reflection, strangers in the post office, me and Grace singing "trom trom trom trom trom tromnbone" but not at her daddy.

She eyes him very suspiciously instead, and when he goes near her she bleats like an indignant goat. She does not even like it if he talks to me while I am feeding her, it puts her off. In fact if she could tut, she would.

Poor James has done nothing to warrant this behavior and he tries so hard to help. He runs me lovely hot baths... but the second I get in, Daisy wakes up, sees James instead of me and starts crying.

He has to put her in the bath with me, and then she is all coos and smiles again. She loves her bath, unless James bathes her of course and then she hates it and cries instead.

It was never like this with Grace. She used to spend hours sucking her daddy's nose when my nipple needed a rest. No chance of Daisy doing that. She has inherited James' habit of sucking fingers very very loudly though, so that's nice and annoying....

Every night, just as I am dozing off, I get rudely woken up again by James BANGING the legs of his office chair loudly (the chair is broken), then just as I have settled back into sleep again he starts sucking his bloody fingers. It sounds like someone trying to pull their welly out of a puddle of mud.

After I have told him off about that and finally managed to get back to sleep again, either Daisy wakes up for a feed or James starts banging his iphone on the desk (also broken) to make it work.

It's funny how you learn to live with things that don't work properly. We kept using a tin opener which no longer was capable of opening tins for many many months. It got so bad that we even stopped making recipes which required tinned tomatoes or tuna as we could not get into them.
It was just not worth it. James would saw and hack away with fishy tuna oil splatting everywhere for hours before giving up. We finally got a new one after I saw James sobbing in frustration whilst trying to suck corned beef out a very small hole he had drilled into the tin with a screwdriver.

We still live with a leaky tap that you have to turn off, then back on precisely half a turn again to stop it dripping and a loo seat which comes off it's hinges each time you put the lid down. James says we can't afford to get them mended now I am now a member of Falmer Racket club (at last)...

I feel very out of place amongst all the yummy mummies with their boob jobs and fake tans and bladder control, while I am frizzy and frazzled and fuzzy and flabby.

In an effort to excuse my appearance I find myself explaining to everyone I see that "I've just had a baby." No one seems interested but it makes me feel a bit better.

I am the only woman in the whole gym who sweats when she exercises which also a bit embarrassing. It's partially because I don't have very long at the gym each time so I try and cram as much in as possible. I do a mini triathlon, starting on the cross trainer, before leaping onto the bike and then charging off into the pool (but getting in it very slowly and sensibly so I don't get my hair wet).

If I have any time left I stagger into the steam room afterward. Last week I was so tired and bleary eyed I actually sat on someones lap in there. Well really, how was I supposed to see with all that steam everywhere? It was really very embarrassing, I jumped up, making a loud squelchy noise as I did so and then felt I needed to explain that I had just had a baby.

James is horrified by my behaviour. He is so Fight Club about the gym. First rule is you do not talk to anyone in the steam room or jacuzzi ever, let alone sit on them.
Second rule is that you do not publicly acknowledge your spouse.... I see him, sneaking past the gym windows to avoid me, or hiding behind the paper in the cafe after playing racketball, hoping I will not notice.

He claims that gym trips are not relaxing if I am there "prattling on to everyone about babies and things all the time." I know this is not the only reason. He does not want to be seen with the frizzy, flabby sweating weirdo who talks to everyone and squelches when she walks.

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