Category Archives: Parenthood

Reflections on Ramona: 18 months

Posted on February 1, 2012 | 4 Comments

I’m still having trouble adjusting to the idea that, as of next week, I’ll be the mother of an 18-month-old child. I’ve been calling her a toddler for a while now – mainly because she toddled at 11 months – but there’s something about the magical one-and-a-half-years-old mark that brings it home to me: she’s growing up.

Alright, we’re a few years away from driving lessons and visiting universities, but she is now, unmistakeably, a little person, and not a baby. Her personality, striking from the outset, is now very clear, and as she ramps up her communication with us, it’s simply staggering realising how much she’s learning every day.

Talking came on very suddenly; a few weeks ago she blurted a word here and there, and now you can’t stop her chattering away. Understanding is far from foolproof, of course. She may yammer away, but much of the time it’s incomprehensible, apparently random. Still, it is undeniably exciting and weird to have conversations with her. She’s particularly talkative in the car with me, when she babbles from the back seat. She’s always liked itemising everyone she loves (“Yiayia?” “She’s at home.” “Pappou?” “He’s at home.”) as if knowing that everyone’s where they should be gives her an anchor; maybe it does. Now she likes me to tell her that everyone loves her. And sometimes she really makes me laugh.

R: Yiayia?
Me: Yiayia loves you very much.
R: Pappou?
Me: Pappou loves you very much.
R: Capper? (Casper, our cat)
Me: Casper… well, he thinks you’re okay.
R: Capper wuvoo? CAPPER WUVOO?
Me: Casper loves you very much.
R: Yes.

Or, a few days later:

R: Yiayia?
Me: Yiayia loves you very much.
R: Pappou?
Me: Look. Everyone loves you. You’re the best!
R: YES.

Ash also gets in on the act:

Ash: Are you happy?
R: Yes?
Ash: Are you okay?
R: Yes? Sad?
Me: You’re sad?
R: Yes?
Me: Why are you sad?
R: Yes?
Ash: Are you a traffic cone?
R: Yes?

Both sets of grandparents are industriously teaching her things she can parrot, but not possibly understand, but that’s fine. Learning by rote has a bad reputation, and certainly I can’t see any point in endlessly repeating something you don’t understand when you’re an adult, but that kind of pattern-matching is incredibly useful when you’re very small. Constant repetition – I’ve had to hide certain books, so sick am I of reading them to her, and I NEVER thought I’d get sick of a book! – is the name of the game.

On the subject of books, we do all love a set of books published by Parragon that my in-laws got her for Christmas and Channukah. Based around simple emotions, they help children express happy, sad, angry, shy, proud, brave… absolutely lovely. She’s too small to embrace naming most of the emotions other than the first two (her gurning in response to ‘happy face!’ ‘sad face!’ is hilarious), but she’s started to memorise sentences and associate words. So if I read “I feel happy when I’m with…?”, she’ll gleefully shout back “Mummy!” and it’s basically the very best moment of my day, no matter what else has happened.

I can’t find the books on Parragon’s website, but I imagine some of their other board books are also excellent. They came as a stack of mini board books in two long boxes with carry handles that she took to slinging into the crook of her arm and strolling around the living room with until they collapsed under the onslaught of toddlerish prodding.

I’m slightly terrified of what happens next, because between incomprehensible shrieking tantrums – often related to teething, which is a truly evil thing – and scarily sudden progress, I’ve once again got to that stage when, just when you thought you knew the lay of the land, the goalposts have shifted again.

For example, she’s always been great at night and is a joy to put to bed; despite my refusal to try controlled crying when she was smaller she has not developed any sleeping hangups. On the contrary, since she feels secure she’ll now go in awake and quietly soothe herself to sleep, rarely waking up unless something out of the ordinary (sickness and New Year fireworks) disturbs her. But on the flip side she’s recently, quite suddenly, gone back to being absolutely random about naps when she’s not at nursery, sometimes sleeping for ages, sometimes not, sometimes early, sometimes late. I thought we’d left that unpredictability behind a few months ago. But hey, I’ll swap complete routine confusion during the day, which is perhaps inevitable when you’re with different people through the week, for a near-flawless routine at night.

Well, for as long as that lasts, anyway.

Oh, Ramona. You’re usually so busy asking me about everyone else that I have to remind you about Mummy. Mummy definitely, positively, unquestionably loves you very, very much.

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Food, glorious food

Posted on December 3, 2011 | 1 Comment

I don’t know whether it’s having read Health at Every Size for the second time or my ongoing fascination with ZOMGMASTERCHEFOZ, but ~I’m completely, relatively uncharacteristically obsessed with cooking – and not just baking – at the moment. Particularly cooking vast quantities of vegetable-packed, warming, hearty food that can be portioned off into the freezer for lunches or quick dinners. Hmm. I wonder if winter hibernation has a role to play here, too.

Anyway, I started my experimentation by packing the fridge with my favourite vegetables and having at them. First I made a vegetarian chilli in two parts – one with paprika and hot spices for us, and one with more fragrant spices for Ramona.

It went something like this:

- Finely dice carrots

- Add to boiling water along with a stock cube and two bags of pre-cut root vegetable cubes (sold for mashing).

- Boil until al dente. Divide into two batches.

- Fry half an onion in sunflower oil until softened. Add spices (for us an Old El Paso mix, for Ramona a heaped teaspoon each of cumin and dried coriander and a level teaspoon of cinnamon). Add, roughly in this order, giving each a chance to cook slightly before adding the next: a couple of slugs of tomato puree, sliced mushrooms, a can of kidney beans, half a can of cannelini beans, the boiled veg, half a can of chopped tomatoes.

- Cook until tasty looking / smelling / tasting.

- Repeat with the other half of the ingredients for the second batch.

Having decided that this was actually quite successful, I branched out into following actual recipes. The first was gorgeous Aussie chef Donna Hay‘s chicken breasts with halloumi, lemon and honey (pictured), which sounds like a cold cure and it is, in a manner of speaking.

Her original recipe – at least, as I scribbled it down from the TV – was for two chicken breasts which I’ve quoted below, but I made 8 breast fillets so I added about 50% more of everything rather than quadrupling it which would have been a bit much.

2 chicken breasts
1 packet halloumi thickly sliced into four
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp olive oil
Zest from one lemon
6 sprigs of lemon thyme

Lay the chicken and cheese in a baking tray, drizzle over the oil and honey, then chuck in the zest and thyme. Bake at 180 for 18-20 minutes or until browned (I actually found they needed quite a bit longer for a bigger dish as I wanted the cheese to burn around the edges – more like 35-40, but as always KYO: Know Your Oven. The mixture keeps the chicken breasts beautifully moist).

Thereafter I headed on to the land of red lentils, and cooked up a sort of stew-dahl hybrid with the remaining pack of diced root vegetables, lots and lots of spinach and some fresh green and red medium-strength chillies. You wash the lentils, bring them to the boil and keep them there, boiling rapidly for ten minutes, then simmer for another ten before adding the veg and cooking until everything is soft. This needs a little stove-watching as too much liquid and it’ll be runny, too little and it’ll be burnt stodge. Some of that liquid need not be water or stock but could be chopped tomatoes or passata.

The 1kg bag of basic red lentils from Tesco is less than £1 and stretches forever (the batch I made with less than half of that has filled up five takeaway-sized plastic boxes in the freezer.

I’m feeling really good about all this. I might be imagining it but even Ashley has commented that my hair seems thicker, my skin looks better – especially given the weather – and I seem to be fighting off all manner of nasties having succumbed to loads earlier in the season. And it’s nice to know Ramona is eating lots of fresh, nutrient-packed food as well as the snacks and sandwiches she also eats; I’m no perfect organic earth mother (most of the veg was from the value bin).

And now, with the help of Vefa Alexiadou and my mother, I’m off to make a classic Greek karidopita (walnut pie), because dessert is virtuous too, damn it.

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Posted in Food Therapy, Life, Parenthood

Reflections on Ramona: 14 months

Posted on October 25, 2011 | 2 Comments

Looking back at the 13 month mark, I’m astonished that there’s so much more to note in such a short space of time. People wonder why toddlers have tantrums, but seriously: can you imagine learning so many things in such a small space of time and not getting a bit cranky?

Leaving aside the leaps in physical co-ordination that are happening, it’s language that’s really astonishing me. I suppose because it’s so obvious all the time, and because it’s allowing me an inlet into communication with my daughter. Because one of the toughest things about being a parent is trying to understand and make yourself understood when there is no common language – except for body language, which is so easy to misread - between you.

So, to mark 14 months, as we dart inexorably on to 15 since I’ve been so late with this update, I give you Whiffle’s Baby Glossary. Or: things wot my kid says.

  • Family: Mummy, Daddy, Yiayia (Greek: grandma), Pappou (Greek: grandpa), Ouma (Afrikaans, grandma), ‘Gamps’ (Gramps), ‘Cabbi’ (Casper, the cat), ‘Aki’ (Alex, the cousin). Occasionally she attempts ‘Ramona’, and gets ‘amona’, which is not bad going for someone with six teeth.
  • Animals: ‘Giger’ (tiger), ‘Ca’ (cat), ‘a pi’ (pig). For ‘dog’ she just strokes the picture and goes ‘aaaahhhh’, and all black cats are ‘Cabbi’.
  • Objects and responses to questions: ‘App-ul’ (apple – tomatoes are also apples, apparently), tea, ‘tthhh’ (teeth), ‘appy’ (nappy, said when a change is needed), ca-ca / poo (likewise), ‘out’ (in response to ‘where did you go?’ or ‘in and…?’), ‘up / cup’ (cup), ‘a boo’ (book), ‘up-ah’ (to be picked up – my mother taught her that!), ‘tah’ (star), ‘baw’ (ball), ‘beh’ (bear).

I’m sure I’ve forgotten more than a few, and those are just the regular ones; often she’ll say something once and then put it away for a few days to be hesitantly brought out again later. I guess being around grandparents speaking two different languages and the varied, positive environment at nursery plus having two parents that don’t shut up is having something of an effect on her.

Incidentally, as I’ve said before, I’m really writing this for my own sake, so I can look back at how she was when she was a tot. I’m not tracking her development, or comparing her to others, and for all I know she should have done all this stuff months ago. I don’t know, I don’t care. I’m just a parent, who, just like most other parents, is fascinated by their own child.

Here’s to every single one of us just happening to have the coolest, smartest kid in the world.

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Reflections on Ramona: 13 months

Posted on September 10, 2011 | 3 Comments

Now that Ramona’s over a year old, we no longer fill in her baby book. Partly cos there’s no section for after 12 months, but also because now it’s past the firsts and into the everythings. So I wanted to keep a record somewhere of all the exciting things she can now do so that when she asks me years from now there’s a hope in Hell I’ll actually be able to give her an answer.

Things that make me proud…

  • Walking is old hat – progressing to a hesitant run now
  • Walking confidently in shoes
  • Standing on tiptoe to reach things
  • Opening cupboards
  • First attempts at climbing things (generally people)
  • Signing ‘finished’/'all gone’
  • Signing ‘butterfly’ whenever one is seen, but also on request in Greek or English
  • Dancing spontaneously to music, and also on request in English or Greek
  • Responding mostly reliably to questions about being hungry or finished by smiles or signing
  • Reliably pointing out ‘Mummy’s nose’, ‘X’s cheek’ and own head (asked in English or Greek) and knees. Sometimes own nose as well, occasionally feet
  • First word was Pappou! Lucky Pappou. This has been followed by ‘Daddy’, ‘Mummy / Mama’, ‘Yiayia’, ‘flower’ (or ‘wowwah’) and the spontaneous favourite: ‘hi!’
  • Animal noises: hissing like a snake, squeaking like a mouse, ‘moo’, ‘woof’ (actually ‘oof’) and ‘baa baa baa’
  • Understanding directions: going to fetch a book whether asked in English or Greek. Identifying by name four mini Moomin books: Moominpappa, Moominmama, Snorkmaiden and Moomintroll
  • Pointing out the following reliably in most books, when asked: cats, teddy bears, balls, hippos, dogs, monkeys, fish, butterflies, bees, ducks, cows, sheep, horses, bunnies, bikes, cars, drums, flowers, mice, socks, shoes
  • Starting to point out clocks, lights and mirrors when asked in English

I’m sure there are many more things. The babbling is sounding more and more like structured speech, so one of these days her language will start sounding a lot more like ours and our mutual gobbledegook will make more sense to each other. She listens a lot more, and looks up for approval when answering a question. We keep repeating simple questions and offering lots of praise and encouragement, and I insist my parents speak to her in Greek whenever possible, as well as repeating some things to her in both languages, so that she continues to have that comfort with either language.

I have no idea if she is average, or above or below. I don’t care, since she seems to be developing and learning at a nice steady pace which gives no indication that she’s struggling or unhappy; growing confidence and happiness are all that matter to me. Every week she seems to pick up half a dozen new things, some from us, some from grandparents and some from nursery. Despite being quite square-eyed as a miniature tot, she now shows no interest in the television at all but is obsessed with books. I wonder how long that’s going to last…!

I know toddlerhood and its attendant issues are right around the corner, but it’s easy to enjoy this stage of constant learning. I understand why she needs 10-11 hours sleep and a couple of hours of napping; if I took in half what she does in a day I’d be exhausted too.

Pickleface, Mummy is so proud.

Edited: Daddy insists I add that he is proud too.

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Work, nursery, separation anxiety, teeth and something having to give…

Posted on August 25, 2011 | 9 Comments

Something had to give.

Let’s start with the good news. I am loving being back at work. I find that I end up laughing about something every day. And those occasional studies that talk about how mums make great employees have some truth in them, you know; my time management is better than it’s ever been, and even on slow days when the temptation strikes anyone, I’m not inclined to procrastinate (if you procrastinate with a child, you pay for it; puts you off for life). I really enjoy being me again, and I’ve had the luxury of a little time to do some of the really fun stuff, like reigniting our Twitter feed, as well as getting a far more regular content creation schedule in place.

Also, Ramona’s having more good days than bad at nursery. She’s playing outside, painting, pottering over to the book corner, etc. Today she apparently was the only child to have a proper afternoon nap, and when she woke up from it and the staff were busy soothing the others who had fallen asleep later she simply pootled over to some toys and played quietly and happily on her own. One carer said “it was like she knew to be quiet and not disturb the others, and she’s so independent; she didn’t need us!”.

Of course, increased independence can go hand in hand with separation anxiety. Although we were always careful to leave her for longer and longer periods with grandparents and eased her into nursery with half days, she’s now going through an apparently classic case of freak outs when she sees me or Ashley leaving. She’s generally happy but clingy when we get back, and I think that the day time anxiety is likely to ease quite soon.

So I wasn’t expecting it to spill over into night. I’m not even sure it has, exactly. She used to go into the cot drowsy but awake and sleep fine. She still sleeps through the night the vast majority of the time unless she’s sick or, in one case, too hot. Now she howls like a banshee when we pop her in the cot. For three days I attempted a sort of controlled crying; not giving in and picking her up, just soothing her in the cot, then leaving her for a minute or two, then silently popping her back down, etc etc. All it left was a baby who eventually slept out of the sheer exhaustion of being inconsolable. Today I snapped after half an hour of listening to her get more and more distressed, picked her up, let her lie on my tummy for five minutes until she was really sleepy, and then popped her in her cot where, after a brief wail of reproach, she slept like a log.

I feel terribly guilty now. Not because I think controlled crying is bad, because I’m sure it works well for many people. But because I think I picked the wrong time to do it. It can’t be a coincidence that this sleeping issue has appeared right when a tooth is coming through and she’s snotty and stressing out. If it was just the separation anxiety, I’m sure I could be a good What to Expect… girl and be all consistent and have a perfect bedtime routine that doesn’t deviate ever (seriously, who manages that?) and calmly sooth her, etc etc. But I ain’t that woman. I’m a woman who thinks a distressed child is distressed for a reason. She didn’t want to be rocked to bed, or to play or to read a book. She wanted soothing, from me, and she got it.

Most people would be fretting now about creating a new situation; I’m just sorry I didn’t give in earlier.

And speaking of giving in… It’s been forever since I ran. I feel very disappointed in myself and want to start again. I have all the excuses – going back to work, wanting to spend every minute I can with Ramona – and they’re all valid. But I have to find a way to find time for it again, and I know other busy mums do. It was good for me, physically and mentally, and I know I’ll have to start from scratch again, but I want to. Maybe if I start at the long weekend with the extra time I’ll have it’ll kick me into gear again.

Something had to give. And in the end it was the last of my faith in guidebooks and parenting tomes. From now on, I do what I think is right, and I trust myself.

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Reflections on Ramona: Happy 1st Birthday!

Posted on August 19, 2011 | 1 Comment

Mummy with Ramona on her birthday

As some of you might have realised from the cake decoration picture I had up as Silent Sunday, we recently passed the incredible milestone of Ramona’s first birthday.

I thought about writing this post to her, but I’ve actually already done that in a way. Ashley and I each wrote a letter to her and put it away, along with her cards from everyone, for her to read when she’s older. We plan to write one each year and give her the whole lot at a milestone birthday like 18 when she can start to appreciate what’s in them. The tone of the letters was quite interestingly different; mine was a waffly description of her birth, and the things she’s learned to do, and what I find amazing about her, whereas Ashley’s was a shorter but beautifully emotional piece all about how he feels about her. The whole of which I think will make a great mixture of stories from childhood and understanding how parents can be just overwhelmed with love.

For me, being the mother of a one-year-old is, as I think with most childhood milestones, bittersweet. On the one hand, I’m truly excited at all the amazing things she can do; she walks pretty well, now, and she’s learned to clap at last! I’m very happy that we’re embarking on a journey that will see her gain even more independence and the ability to communicate clearly. She can now understand simple directions and that’s really quite amazing when I compare her to the blinky, waily, confused, wrinkled little pudding I held in my arms a year ago.

On the other hand, she’ll never be that tiny little brand new person ever again. And I find that sad. Maybe it’s the reminder of my own mortality. Maybe it’s the knowledge that, although we have a long way to go (and I’m terrified of teenagerhood), every step she learns to take already takes her further away from me. Although she suffers a little separation anxiety at nursery on and off – though mostly enjoys it – she loves being left with grandparents and doesn’t seem to mind if it’s me or Ashley with her. All of which certainly makes going back to work, which I’m thrilled I did, much easier but at the same time reminds me that although I feel like she’s an extension of me, she’s also very much her own person.

That’s the challenge of parenthood, I think. To you, they are almost literally your own flesh and blood; when they are away from you, something is missing. When they are sad, something in you is broken. When they are happy, something in you flies. When they are learning, exploring, doing, something in you delights with them every step of the way. And yet they are not you, and every move they make is for them, and must be for the them, and will be for them. Until, one day, if they choose to make it so and are lucky enough to fulfil their choice, it will be for their children.

I wish I could say this has made me even nicer to my own mother – not that I’m unpleasant to her, you understand; we are actually very close! – but I don’t think that’s how it works. Once a selfish kid, always a selfish kid.

And once a mother, always a mother.

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Silent Sunday

Posted on August 7, 2011 | 7 Comments

 

Silent Sunday

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Silent Sunday

Posted on July 31, 2011 | 6 Comments

Silent Sunday

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NFPtweetup social and getting back to work

Posted on July 30, 2011 | 2 Comments

On Thursday, I had a day that felt pretty much like I had never had a baby. Okay, it began with dropping the littleun off at nursery, and I did pick her up and say a quick goodbye, but I spent the morning doing grown up things like, erm, cleaning house. Then I headed into the office to do some catching up, and was answering email queries within five minutes of stepping through the door.

I then headed over to the NFPtweetup social with my manager, Jacqui, but we didn’t end up being all that sociable, at least for the first couple of hours! Though I got to chat babies with the wonderful Rachel, Jacqui and I spent most of the time talking about work… and it was brilliant! We were bouncing around a few ideas, talking about things that have changed in the last year, talking about how we could develop one thing or another. Nothing concrete and certainly nothing I could talk about here, but it just generated this exciting atmosphere of Things To Be Done. And it made me go from happy to be going back to work to itching to get started. I was all set to start brainstorming some ideas for Monday today, but had to remind myself to enjoy my weekend and spend my last few free days soaking up as many Ramona cuddles as possible!

And those cuddles are wonderful. I will miss them. But I know from that swell of positivity and surge of determination that work is exactly where I’m meant to be.

Having said a quick hello to the lovely Steve Bridger and got a chance to meet my husband’s newest colleague, Rochelle, I then got a delicious dinner bought for me at Moshi Moshi (my first visit; quite pricey but excellent – I recommend the soft shell crab).

Thank heaven for grandparents who agree to put a squirmy little baby to bed. And thank heaven for squirmy little babies who start the next morning by giving you a just-beginning-to-be-toothy smile and a hug that melts hearts at fifty paces.

Okay, working world. Make some room: I’m ba-ack!

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Settling a child into nursery: the heartbreaking stage

Posted on July 14, 2011 | 2 Comments

So, as I mentioned in my last post, I’m back at work soon. And I’m all sorts of nervous and excited about this, and rather glad that my line of work is the kind of thing that is a) quite easy to stay involved in as it’s all online and b) quite easy to stay involved with if you’re a blogging, tweeting, possibly-Google-plussing community addict, which you obviously are if you do my job.

The thing about going back to work is that childcare has to be worked out.  Three days a week Ramona will be with grandparents, with whom she’s already happy and comfortable and has been left a few times to get used to the idea. But I also wanted her to go to nursery. Not because I’m itching to spend hundreds of pounds every month (and it is, at this end of the country certainly, a phenomenal though understandable fee), but because otherwise she doesn’t see very many other children.* I also think it can’t hurt to get used to the general routine. Astonishingly, school is just three years away, and becoming accustomed to the coming and going of large groups of kids with various tall people dotted about telling you what to do is no bad thing.

So, we started the process. We were lucky enough to find a nursery we loved on the second attempt (sorry, I won’t be sharing which as it’s just plain creepy to have the interwebs know where your child is spending her days). It’s well-resourced, cheerful and full of really lovely staff who exhibit a natural and boundless affection for their variously dribbling, snotty, wibbling and pooing charges. Lots of hugs and kisses, plenty of toys, books (Ramona’s current Reason for Being is to turn pages in board books) and good food. What else could anyone want? In fact, sign me up. I’ll even go to the loo myself.

But of course Ramona’s used to having mainly me around. The first few sessions, getting gradually longer, involved more and more crying, most of it solved by getting her engrossed in some books, or feeding her, although the last time the books only worked for a little while and she wouldn’t eat or drink milk. It was only on the last one that she actually clung to me and sobbed when we arrived – before that she’d smile at first and take a few minutes to realise I wasn’t there. On the advice of the nursery staff I’m basically going in, sitting her down, handing over her milk and buggering off; in their experience a drawn out goodbye only makes things worse.

It is, absolutely, heartbreaking (I sort of thank God she can’t say ‘mummy’ yet, because I think that would finish me off entirely). I know that she’ll get past it and that tears in the morning will become tears of wanting to stay there in the afternoon; after all, she doesn’t have a sandpit and water table and music area and whole crate full of phone-like toys etc at home. And all those things are, she will discover in due course, way more interesting than having me to poke every ten minutes. But I do wish I’d started this all earlier before separation anxiety had a chance to kick in (on her side – mine started before her head was all the way out), and I would have done if we hadn’t been away. But what’s done is done.

I try to make up for it with extra snuggly time – we spent ages cuddling in bed, her dozing and snorting on my chest, then beaming at me – but that only seems to make it worse for me.

The funny thing is, I have no doubts whatsoever about going back to work. I always wanted to and even after a break I can’t imagine not doing my job; it would be like not being me. So I’m not sitting here just to justify it to myself. Even if I was a SAHM, I’d send her to nursery for the socialisation and so that she can be taught by someone other than me.

Still, nothing teaches you to handle guilt like parenthood. Indeed, if you can get past the things you ‘should’ do during pregnancy, the things you ‘must’ do after the birth and the routines they ‘ought to’ follow thereafter, you will be TOTALLY INDESTRUCTABLE.

Women weakened by childbirth? Ha! I’ve never been tougher in my life.

 

*One of my friends has a daughter just five weeks older than Ramona. Every single time Ramona sees said mother and daughter coupling, she is having a bad day. The other child is frighteningly well-behaved and perfect. Mine – so cute, able, confident and lovely so much of the time – has a meltdown. And to make matters worse, when we see them as a family she is scared of the father’s voice. It basically means that among our closest friends at least one couple think our child is part-demon. This makes me sad, and also makes me think Ramona must, must, must be around other kids her age!

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