Growing


My little cheeky one is nearly sixteen months old. She’s a tall baby girl, her skin tone is currently the same as mine was (at its’ darkest) last summer and she has an outrageous head of straight dark hair – apart from the volume of the latter, all three characteristics come directly from her father. Her character is starting to come right through – un/fortunately she seems to have inherited  my stubborn streak. She understands the meaning of the word ‘no’, so much so that upon hearing it, she starts kicking her legs and hands, cries a bit and then resumes her busy life as a toddler. If you DARE take anything she happens to be playing with, she will throw a short-lived tantrum during which you start praying for a hole to appear and swallow you up whole. However her mood is soon restored to normal. In that, she does not take after me. I tend to stretch my tantrums into hours and days. You can ask my husband.

She does not walk yet, but has mastered crawling to a tee. She knows how to walk and it’s just her fear which is stopping her from taking off. In the meantime every room in the house is now HER room. Nothing is off bounds – including the bathroom when I shower. I now have an audience of one during my once-upon-a-time private time. She keeps me company while cooking, she takes out every pan and pot and drags them to the living room to play with and eats any bit of food I drop while I cook. We live in austere times you see.

I love hearing her new words – of course they’re not words any other human being would understand, but I’ve started to recognize some of them. For instance, the ‘ayaya’ (said in a whispery, almost magical way) is her favourite fruit – the Banana. ‘Baba’ is her play-ball, a long ‘bababa’ means ‘butterfly’ and ‘sh-sh’ are her shoes. She loves the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and goes into a happy-induced frenzy when Mickey appears on the television. Mickey and Minnie Mouse are known to us as ‘Ninnie’. ‘Ninnie’ the soft-toy comes in very handy when she has a melt-down over something as mentioned before. And then there’s ‘mimi’ which I’ve come to think refers to a number of things – her dummy, her milk and ‘me me’ – that is, ‘everything belongs to me. This is mine and that is mine too’. As if we need any reminders that everything is all about her. Always.

I’m happy that I’ve finally managed to steer her away from the coma-inducing Baby TV onto the more reasonable Disney Junior TV. At least this way, we can watch better cartoons, listen to better conversations and they’re something I enjoy watching too. Her favourite shows are the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (of course) and The Hive. She laughs so much during the opening tune, and she’s taken a real shine to Busby. I have to admit, I have as well – he is the cutest thing ever!

Nights are still an issue with us. Just when she has a good night, she then has 2/3 nights of waking up 4/5 times a night. By 8am she’s then wide awake, chattering away in her cot (or in our bed – depending on the night she had) as if she had the most relaxing night ever. Whereas I look like a zombie who’d kill for an hour more of uninterrupted sleep. I know it’s teething, but it seems to go on forever…

What I love most about her age at the moment is her ability to communicate. We talk to her and you can see her small brain digesting what we’re telling her and storing it all in. She then answers with a look or a word and looks at us for approval. She knows when she’s doing something she’s not supposed to and looks at me with her big eyes when I explain the reason why she can’t do it. I ask for her shoe and she goes and gets it for me. I find it amazing how quickly she learns things, like last weekend when she saw me opening a bottle of water and when I gave it to her she opened it, looked at the lid and tried closing it again. Thankfully it was empty. A tells me that it’s just like training a pet – in some ways it’s true. We’re always saying “Cesca, say hello”, “Cesca, open your mouth”, “Cesca, put your hands up”. We repeat everything for a million times, and when we’ve nearly given up, she will say or do it for us.

Little Puppet, you’re amazing. I love being able to spend this time with you, seeing you grow into a young girl, finding your own way around everything, and showing us snippets of what you’ll be like when you’re older. You do make me angry at times, and I hate myself when I lose my temper with you, but you’re a special girl. You jump into my arms and give me your biggest hug, and I feel myself melting around you. I love you little C x

I meant to upload some recent pictures of C, but for some reason WordPress is not allowing me to. Hope I’ll have better luck next time!

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