Alex has been ill recently, but still managed to do a running commentary of events in between reaching for the bucket.
Sitting in bed, Alex says, "Mum, I'm going to bomit. I need the bucket." in a forlorn kind of a way. I rush out to get the sick bucket while he dutifully waits for me to return. Sighing wistfully, (as if to say 'here we go again') he reaches for the bucket and neatly deposits the contents of his stomach into it (tried to think of a way to say it more delicately than that, couldn't).
When it's over, he looks at me and says,"You know, when you eat, you chew the food, it goes down your neck and into your tummy. When you bomit, it comes back up your neck and out your mouth. It's pretty tricky that way." I agree that yes it's tricky and not nice, but he's doing a great job. He shrugs. "It was the pancakes." (as in 'whatta ya gonna do? you mess with pancakes, you pay the price')... personally at the time I thought it was the croissant, chocolate egg, hot chocolate and half a Tim Tam he'd had throughout the day (not our best ensemble parenting, one of us thought we'd given him too much without realising the other had done the same!)... turns out it was an ear infection! Still, maybe we won't be repeating the chocolate overdose any time soon...
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
An Alex retrospective
Just thought I'd add in these snippets from days gone by:
Alex, age 19months, the tortured artiste is taken to a music shop by Pa, wants to bang on all the drums and pull all the guitars off their racks. Indignant at being forcibly removed from the shop, he kicks and screams as he's carried away, screaming: "I just want to play music!"
Alex, age almost 2 strokes Chris' hair for a while before farewelling him off to work. About halfway through the day, he turns to me and remarks, "Daddy's got a really nice head."
Alex, age 2 years 2 months after it's been raining, wipes his feet on the front doormat then leans down into a perfect downward dog, and wipes the top of his head too (to get the rain off).
Treating his newborn sister like a toy (that belongs to him): "I love Maya! Cuddles... I just NEED to cuddle her!" and later, in a more gentle tone, "oh! look at her tiny ears! She's got eyebrows!"
A month or two later, when Chris picks her up, Alex sternly instructs: "Pick her down, Daddy!"
Alex, 2 and a half Chris says he needs some moolah to get stuff from the shops. Alex disappears into his room and come back with his flannelette blanket with the cow pattern on it, announcing, "I got the moolah!"
Alex eats dinner with his bike helmet on. He uses my breast pad as a coaster and does a little tap dance under the table as he eats.
Alex, 2 years 9 months is very anxious about Santa Claus. Won't go near one, doesn't like the idea of him. Repeatedly asks Chris to explain the concept. "Does he come into our home?" "How does he get in?" etc etc. Finally, suggests that Daddy goes to the shop to get the toys, and just brings them straight home for him. Leave Santa out of it. At the playgroup Christmas morning, Alex just about overcame his fear by sidling up to the fake Santa, grabbing the present and making a dash for it. (It seems fear of Santa may be genetic, I remember doing and thinking the same thing)
Alex, age almost 3
Dobbing in his 10 month old sister: "Mum, Maya's not sharing!"
"Sue likes whippersnippers. She likes the noise they make. Rose likes monster trucks. They are trucks that have monsters in them."
"Mummy, who makes it night time? What does God like to eat?"
Gazing out the car window as sky becomes increasingly overcast: "Look at those dark grey clouds mummy, I think God's closing his doors!"
Alex, age 19months, the tortured artiste is taken to a music shop by Pa, wants to bang on all the drums and pull all the guitars off their racks. Indignant at being forcibly removed from the shop, he kicks and screams as he's carried away, screaming: "I just want to play music!"
Alex, age almost 2 strokes Chris' hair for a while before farewelling him off to work. About halfway through the day, he turns to me and remarks, "Daddy's got a really nice head."
Alex, age 2 years 2 months after it's been raining, wipes his feet on the front doormat then leans down into a perfect downward dog, and wipes the top of his head too (to get the rain off).
Treating his newborn sister like a toy (that belongs to him): "I love Maya! Cuddles... I just NEED to cuddle her!" and later, in a more gentle tone, "oh! look at her tiny ears! She's got eyebrows!"
A month or two later, when Chris picks her up, Alex sternly instructs: "Pick her down, Daddy!"
Alex, 2 and a half Chris says he needs some moolah to get stuff from the shops. Alex disappears into his room and come back with his flannelette blanket with the cow pattern on it, announcing, "I got the moolah!"
Alex eats dinner with his bike helmet on. He uses my breast pad as a coaster and does a little tap dance under the table as he eats.
Alex, 2 years 9 months is very anxious about Santa Claus. Won't go near one, doesn't like the idea of him. Repeatedly asks Chris to explain the concept. "Does he come into our home?" "How does he get in?" etc etc. Finally, suggests that Daddy goes to the shop to get the toys, and just brings them straight home for him. Leave Santa out of it. At the playgroup Christmas morning, Alex just about overcame his fear by sidling up to the fake Santa, grabbing the present and making a dash for it. (It seems fear of Santa may be genetic, I remember doing and thinking the same thing)
Alex, age almost 3
Dobbing in his 10 month old sister: "Mum, Maya's not sharing!"
"Sue likes whippersnippers. She likes the noise they make. Rose likes monster trucks. They are trucks that have monsters in them."
"Mummy, who makes it night time? What does God like to eat?"
Gazing out the car window as sky becomes increasingly overcast: "Look at those dark grey clouds mummy, I think God's closing his doors!"
Language
We have one of those side-by-side double prams that fits through an average doorway but the price you pay is supermarket-trolley style wheels that aren't fit for any surface but smoooooth shopping malls.
Chris was pushing both kids in said pram along a too-narrow footpath, huffing and puffing (fairly theatrically I would imagine, in the way men do when they want to emphasise the effort they're going to, but I wasn't there) as he tried to negotiate the stones, cracks in the pavement, etc.
"What's wrong Dadda?," Alex asked, and, as if to show his proficiency in using new words in their correct context, suggested, "Is it the bloody stones?"
Chris was pushing both kids in said pram along a too-narrow footpath, huffing and puffing (fairly theatrically I would imagine, in the way men do when they want to emphasise the effort they're going to, but I wasn't there) as he tried to negotiate the stones, cracks in the pavement, etc.
"What's wrong Dadda?," Alex asked, and, as if to show his proficiency in using new words in their correct context, suggested, "Is it the bloody stones?"
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