"No, honey, that's not your brother; that's a cupboard."
Friday 28th August 2009.
Extract from a conversation between myself and BB.
Monday, 31 August 2009
Friday, 28 August 2009
Thursday, 27 August 2009
Cycling in France
Yesterday, my beloved bike and I were reunited.
Circumstances had contrived to separate us for the past nine months, but we overcame the trial and found one another again.
It was a wonderful, emotional moment.
I know I sound sentimental, and probably a little pathetic, but you must understand that the bike and I go back a long way. Nine years, to be exact.
And we've had some great times together.
As I rode along at top speed, 4 weeks after the birth of LB, I grinned foolishly, dizzy on the simple sensation of freedom I get when the bike and I are on the road together.
If you'd seen the pair of us, you'd have thought: there's a couple in love.
You'd never have guessed we'd just been through a long & difficult separation.
La vie est belle.
Tuesday, 25 August 2009
Parental Hierarchy
Before - in our past life (i.e. pre-July 31st) - FH and I were smug 1-child parents who looked at child-free couples and wondered, a little snobbily: but what on earth do they DO with all that free time??
Now, we have progressed up the scale (and believe me, the parental hierarchy scale DOES exist) to frazzled 2-child parents, who stare in disbelief at 1-child parents and wonder: what on earth do they DO with all that free time??
Actually, the above sentence is usually what we mutter to each other grumpily at 3 am, during the night shift switch-over, when one of us passes the baton (er, baby) to the other and scuttles off deliriously to grab an hour's sleep.
I shudder to think what the 3-child parents say to each other.
My Nan, who raised a brood of seven (give the woman a medal and a peerage), swears that you never realise how easy it was "before" until the next kid comes along.
I think I'll take her word for it on that one.
I love all my boys, of course I do.
But, if you happen to be one of those glossy haired, sick-stain free couples lounging around drinking a beer in the sun and looking insultingly carefree... beware. As I huff and puff past you with my juggernaut pram, I am probably looking at you crazily and muttering something that sounds a bit like: what on earth are you DOING with all that free time??
Now, we have progressed up the scale (and believe me, the parental hierarchy scale DOES exist) to frazzled 2-child parents, who stare in disbelief at 1-child parents and wonder: what on earth do they DO with all that free time??
Actually, the above sentence is usually what we mutter to each other grumpily at 3 am, during the night shift switch-over, when one of us passes the baton (er, baby) to the other and scuttles off deliriously to grab an hour's sleep.
I shudder to think what the 3-child parents say to each other.
My Nan, who raised a brood of seven (give the woman a medal and a peerage), swears that you never realise how easy it was "before" until the next kid comes along.
I think I'll take her word for it on that one.
I love all my boys, of course I do.
But, if you happen to be one of those glossy haired, sick-stain free couples lounging around drinking a beer in the sun and looking insultingly carefree... beware. As I huff and puff past you with my juggernaut pram, I am probably looking at you crazily and muttering something that sounds a bit like: what on earth are you DOING with all that free time??
Monday, 24 August 2009
Terminology Test
Well, my BB couldn't go on being my Baby Boy forever, could he? Especially now that there are two of them.
But fear not: my quest for appropriate terminology has not been curtailed by this minor setback (terminology is my trade, after all), and a new system has been developed.
So, from now on, BB is Big Brother.
And LB is... yes, you guessed it, you clever bunch... Little Brother!
And FH is still - of course - my FH (er, until further notice. For as long as our marriage survives the ultimate "two young kids" trial.).
Just kidding. I think ;-)
Saturday, 22 August 2009
To Read or Not To Read?
There is a paragraph in "Night Train to Lisbon" by Pascal Mercier that made me sit up, reflect and re-read:
There were the people who read and there were the others.
Whether you were a reader or a non-reader: it was soon apparent.
There was no greater distinction between people. People were amazed when he asserted this and many shook their heads at such crankiness. But that's how it was. Gregorius knew it. He knew it.
These words caught my attention because they say something I have always secretly thought to be true. But have never really expressed aloud, for fear of seeming like a "book snob" (or whatever the reader's equivalent of "racist" is).
But the more I think about it, the more true it is, I feel. Both my mum and my sister are big readers. And to be honest, so are all of my closest friends.
This may be a coincidence, of course, but is anything really that much of a coincidence, when it comes down to it? Isn't it more likely that we are simply drawn to people who share the same approach as us, who are sensitive to the same things?
I think that those of us who love books have - to some extent - a rich inner life, an escape route from reality, and that tends to come across in some way. At least, it does to a fellow reader.
Just to conclude this post, imagine my delight at BB's growing interest in books!
Sure, we've always made sure he has access to lots of books, but just lately he's actually started "reading" them himself, and for the past few nights I've actually caught him reading in bed before lights out (I use the term reading loosely of course. A more appropriate description would be "turning pages and looking at pictures, often upside down". But the enthusiasm is there).
If BB turns out to be a reader, there's not much would make me happier (except maybe if he follows our lead and also elects to be vegetarian, but that's another story...).
Ah... something tells me we're going to get on just fine, me and my BB...
There were the people who read and there were the others.
Whether you were a reader or a non-reader: it was soon apparent.
There was no greater distinction between people. People were amazed when he asserted this and many shook their heads at such crankiness. But that's how it was. Gregorius knew it. He knew it.
These words caught my attention because they say something I have always secretly thought to be true. But have never really expressed aloud, for fear of seeming like a "book snob" (or whatever the reader's equivalent of "racist" is).
But the more I think about it, the more true it is, I feel. Both my mum and my sister are big readers. And to be honest, so are all of my closest friends.
This may be a coincidence, of course, but is anything really that much of a coincidence, when it comes down to it? Isn't it more likely that we are simply drawn to people who share the same approach as us, who are sensitive to the same things?
I think that those of us who love books have - to some extent - a rich inner life, an escape route from reality, and that tends to come across in some way. At least, it does to a fellow reader.
Just to conclude this post, imagine my delight at BB's growing interest in books!
Sure, we've always made sure he has access to lots of books, but just lately he's actually started "reading" them himself, and for the past few nights I've actually caught him reading in bed before lights out (I use the term reading loosely of course. A more appropriate description would be "turning pages and looking at pictures, often upside down". But the enthusiasm is there).
If BB turns out to be a reader, there's not much would make me happier (except maybe if he follows our lead and also elects to be vegetarian, but that's another story...).
Ah... something tells me we're going to get on just fine, me and my BB...Two Whole Years
My lovely little boy is two years old today.
I can't believe how the time has flown. And yet, it's as though you've always been here with us, my darling BB.
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Affection, Rejection and the Blues
Sorry for the lack of posting of late. The sky here has been relentlessly blue... and so have I.
But just as the aggressive heat of this exceptionally hot summer will pass, so will this lingering "baby blues". Maybe I will write more about this brief, unexpected and unnerving experience later, when it is truly behind me; maybe not. We'll see.
In the meantime, let me tell you about BB and his favourite new activity: shouting "NO!!!" at the top of his (surprisingly loud) voice whilst adopting a pose reminiscent of "the bad guy' in every bad crime movie you've ever seen.
In my post-pregnancy, fragile state, I naturally assumed this vehement display of negativity was aimed at me personally... and thus shed many a pitiful tear on the subject.
That was until I discovered him doing exactly the same thing to... his own reflection. Poised in front of the tall bedroom mirror, my feisty 2 year old was practising the effect of his "bad guy" stance, and seemed mighty impressed with the result.
My childcare book (it sits right by the bible on the top bookshelf) says that kids spend the first 6 months of their life trying to get as close to their parents as possible, and the rest of their lives trying to become independent from them.
This is undoubtedly true, but I would just add a slight rectification:
When you are a 31 year old woman who's just had a baby, you suddenly, instinctively, revert to that helpless newborn who needs his mummy more than anything.
And you are just so overwhelmingly relieved that she's there to help.
And so the chain of life - and affection - continues.
But just as the aggressive heat of this exceptionally hot summer will pass, so will this lingering "baby blues". Maybe I will write more about this brief, unexpected and unnerving experience later, when it is truly behind me; maybe not. We'll see.
In the meantime, let me tell you about BB and his favourite new activity: shouting "NO!!!" at the top of his (surprisingly loud) voice whilst adopting a pose reminiscent of "the bad guy' in every bad crime movie you've ever seen.
In my post-pregnancy, fragile state, I naturally assumed this vehement display of negativity was aimed at me personally... and thus shed many a pitiful tear on the subject.
That was until I discovered him doing exactly the same thing to... his own reflection. Poised in front of the tall bedroom mirror, my feisty 2 year old was practising the effect of his "bad guy" stance, and seemed mighty impressed with the result.
My childcare book (it sits right by the bible on the top bookshelf) says that kids spend the first 6 months of their life trying to get as close to their parents as possible, and the rest of their lives trying to become independent from them.
This is undoubtedly true, but I would just add a slight rectification:
When you are a 31 year old woman who's just had a baby, you suddenly, instinctively, revert to that helpless newborn who needs his mummy more than anything.
And you are just so overwhelmingly relieved that she's there to help.
And so the chain of life - and affection - continues.
Friday, 7 August 2009
Early Days
Broken sleep, milky dreams and the general "baby bubble" are all combining to cause a strange phenomenon known as: "the inability to construct coherent sentences".
So don't be surprised if this blog turns into something of a wordless photo story for the next couple of weeks.
Anyway, where newborns are concerned, I reckon pictures speak much louder than words.
Father and son recover from the birth...
One baby finger = one mother's fingernail...
Baby meets the family (can you spot the sleep-deprived ones?)
BB continues his domestic tasks, unfazed...
Private moments
Tuesday, 4 August 2009
Birth-Day
Our lovely, unhurried little boy Emmanuel finally arrived on July 31st at 1.45 a.m.
We are so excited, proud and tired (though not necessarily in that order!).
The birth was probably as smooth as they get, and for those of you who like statistics:
Weight: 3.7 kg
Length: 50 cm
Total time required to bring baby into the world: 4 hours
Just before...
Just after...
We are so excited, proud and tired (though not necessarily in that order!).
The birth was probably as smooth as they get, and for those of you who like statistics:
Weight: 3.7 kg
Length: 50 cm
Total time required to bring baby into the world: 4 hours
Just before...
Just after... 
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