"Music"

We just had a little moment, Beanie, and I was nearly reduced to tears by your obvious overwhelming joy.

We have had a pretty quiet morning, playing with your new Christmas toys, rearranging my tupperware and my cutlery, and going for a little walk to the playground. We were just sitting on the rug playing with your Lego when you started to say something with real indignation. It sounded a little like "Big truck", but I hadn't heard a truck, so I said, "No truck," and kept on playing. Your little brow furrowed, you thought hard and tried again. "Mooo truck." Hmm. Were you remembering a milk truck we had seen that morning perhaps? I said sorry, I'm not sure what you mean...

So you stood up with a huff, came to my laptop, picked it up (which you are not allowed to do), brought it over to me and said "Moo truck! Moo truck! Oo Ah Oo Ah Oo Ah!" And then I got it: Music! The "Oo Ah" is the sound I make as we dance to a specific song (40 Day Dream from Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeroes. We always do deep squats during the Oo Ah bit and you love it.), and I use Spotify to play music from my laptop. So I said to you, "Oh! Music!" and you should have seen the look on your face! I immediately put on 40 Day Dream and you almost burst with joy! You ran in circles squealing, then raced up to me, grabbed my arm and wiggled me around to dance with you. I lifted you up for the Oo Ahs and you nuzzled in for the biggest cuddle.

It's moments like this... this is the reason why I write to you. It's little things like this that I don't want to forget.

An entirely unrelated photo, but I can't write a letter
without a photo when I have so many good ones! 

My little boy, oh how I love you!
Love Mummy.

Portrait Series: Your Second Christmas

Merry Christmas, little Bean! 

A portrait of my son, once a week, every week.
Your little face! It makes me SO happy!

It has been a wonderful Christmas this year. It is so much fun to actually watch you get excited about ripping open presents and exploring all the wonder that is Christmas Day. You can now say Santa Claus (interchangeable with Samiclaus), Christmas tree, star, angel and reindeer. 

The moment you woke up, your daddy and I raced downstairs to get you, all bleary eyed and not quite aware of what was to come. But then you discovered your Bobby Car from Nanny and Pop, and it all was just an overwhelming amount of Christmasness from then on in! You stayed in your pyjamas almost all day, I think until about 6pm? And who wouldn't, when you were so cute! 

I'm pretty sure your daddy and I were more excited than you
when we came to get you in the morning!

We had the most wonderful Christmas dinner! I'm pretty proud of myself, to be honest, because since you have been around, I haven't had much time to cook like I did before. For starters, our friend Claudia made a dip that is her special Christmas dip from her Auntie's recipe, which was lovely. I managed to whip up a Beef Wellington with some beautiful Australian beef fillet, which is quite the delicacy here in Switzerland, with baby carrots in maple syrup, broccoli with paprika butter and sage and clementine roast potatoes (roast potatoes have never quite worked out for me, so I was stoked this year when they were perfect!). All with a gravy made from juices, beef stock and a slurp of the glühwein we had on the stove. And then came the crazy chocolate chestnut cake with creme fraiche and cherries, which really turned out to be a huge piece of solid brownie fudge. Insane! Even you didn't go near it, it was too much! And of course there was egg nog, gluhwein, more wine (of which you now demand to sniff and sigh with satisfaction at the smell, ha!) and some yummy coffees from my new coffee machine. Y.U.M. 

We're a pretty happy family, eh? 

All of this was on offer for you, my love, and you know what you wanted? Cervelat. A big fat red (organic!) sausage. That was your idea of the perfect Christmas dinner. With tinned corn, of course. You had a bit of a poke around at the goodies on my plate, but most definitely wanted yours instead. 

Fulfilling the stereotype and loving the box!

We ate, we drank, you played with boxes and the wrapping, your bobby car, your new "Mhomas" train set and a whole stack of other toys you received from Santa and from relatives and friends. You are such a lucky boy! And we are so lucky to have you to brighten up our Christmas! 

Merry Christmas, my beautiful one. Your second Christmas was a success! 

"Not a bad stash," he says.

I love you. 

Love Mummy.

Nineteen Months - Cheese! Cheese! Cheese!

Hello my little monkey,

You are nineteen months old now (that is sounding awfully close to two years, isn't it? Yikes!) and here are your favourite things:

• Flushing the toilet. Oh what insurmountable joy!
• Not taking your shoes off when you come inside. So cheeky in your rebellion! 

• 'Washing your hands', which really means splashing about in the basin, pointing to things that are 'Mummy's' and therefore a no-no, taking a moment to suck some toothpaste off your toothbrush, slapping the soap around the basin a little and wasting a heart-stopping amount of water (I'm Australian!) with all of your on-off-on-off-on-off tap business. 
• Vacuuming! Your number one fear has become something you LOVE! 
• Cheese. This word comes out of your mouth at least a hundred times a day. (edited: You have said it at least a hundred times in the past hour. I'm changing it to a thousand.)
• Rearranging my cutlery drawer and pretending to shove knives into your mouth to watch my reaction. 

• Nina, your wonderful wonderful wonderful little friend at Krippe. Now, instead of crying the entire way there, you say, 'Nina! Nina! Nina!' I don't know what I'd do without her! You give her little kisses all day long, and I've heard rumours that you hold hands in your sleep :)

• Making stars, trees, snails and balls from play-dough and sticking them to the window. 

• Counting 1,2,3 in Swiss German anytime you are standing on top of something, so that somebody can 'jump' you off. I realise this could be bad in the future... 

Here is an example of you not liking something.
In this case, it was doing anything.
(This is you, tired.)

Here are things you really dislike:

• Food. Except cheese, yoghurt and sultanas. 
• Balloons. These are apparently very scary and unpredictable. 
• Music in the minor key.
• Eye drops. 
• Being pushed into something that you are not totally comfortable with yet. Like playing in the snow, being put at the top of a big slide, or rolling a huge fit-ball towards you when you don't really know what it is...

... I've been thinking about this for a long time now, and there aren't many things you don't like! Oh perhaps sleeping for more than two hours at a time? Get on that, eh?

I love you, Bubbaloo!
Love Mummy.

Portrait Series: In My Shoes

Dear Beanie,
I'm pretty sure that it is a rite of passage to have a photograph taken of you wearing a pair of ridiculously large shoes. To be honest, it should be Daddy's shoes, as almost every day you try to get into those... And the fancy cycling shoes with the clickety clack wheel on them? Woah. It blows your mind. But it was my big boots on this day. 

So here it is, my beautiful boy. I wish it was taken from a *real* camera and was of a decent quality, but I think your personality shines through anyhow.

I love you!
Love Mummy

Nightmares

My little boy, you had your first nightmare last night. You poor thing, it was so traumatic! You woke up screaming at 12.18 and there was absolutely no way in hell that you were going to get back into that lovely little bed of yours. You were absolutely terrified of being put down and no bottle, no singing, no reading a story, no cuddles, no dummy, no dummy with teething gel was going to fix it.

I still remember a terrifying dream that I had apparently before I was three years old, where there were enormous tigers surrounding the house and I couldn't find my mum. I wonder what your dream was about.

Maybe it was about the sled.

Not having fun in the snow.

We have been away on a mini holiday at a little farm in the mountains, playing in the snow, looking and giggling at the animals, going for little hikes and getting a wee bit lost... it was all quite idyllic, really, and Oh So Swiss, which makes your mama very happy! But I am learning more and more about you, little one.

As you get older, your personality becomes stronger and your daddy and I are learning to respect you for the person that you are. In some ways, you are a very brave and boisterous boy, but we are learning more and more that you are incredibly cautious when it comes to trying new things. We attempted to get you onto a sled, you see. We had grand plans of the fun we would have, you and your daddy sledging down the tiny hill at the back of the farm, you turning the steering wheel like your favourite bobby car... Instead, you screamed your head off even watching your daddy do it! You were absolutely not a happy boy until that sled went away out of sight. And from that moment on, you and the snow were no longer friends. Hmm...

You did like the snow for the first half hour or so!

Next time, we need to give you longer to acclimatise to the idea of trying something new. Yes, of course we put you in front of it so you could assess what it was, poke at the buttons, turn the handle, have the opportunity to turn it over and suss out the mechanics a little if you wanted, but that was not enough. In future, I think you perhaps need a couple of days of watching other kids do it and have fun with it before you will be ready to sit on it yourself.

Perhaps your nightmare involved that sled.

I love you oh so much, little one. I wish that cuddles could always make everything better!

Love Mummy.

Portrait Series: Cold Weather Shut Down

Oh my goodness! It's Sunday, and I haven't written your Portrait Series post yet! Yikes!

Alright, I've found the perfect portrait that shows the kind of week we've had. My little outside boy, you just don't seem so keen on getting rugged up and racing around outside anymore. I am not sure if your shoes are uncomfortable or if you just don't like wearing clothes right now, or if you're like your aunty Jessy and you just kind of shut down when it gets cold... But all I can say is take a look: this is you in winter. Not really living it up and playing in the snow, eh.

I have been super sick AGAIN this week, my darling, and it seems that my immune system is getting more of a battering than yours this winter! But goodness, that's how I'd prefer it. Last winter, your first, was one that I hope we never have to experience again... So stay warm, stay healthy, but remember to smile too,  OK? 

I love you, little bean.

Love Mummy.

Golden Moments

My little boy, sometimes there are those incredible moments in time where you can do nothing but exist in it, breathe it in, know that it will be gone in a minute, and remember it. I'm learning that the worst thing I can do in the middle of these moments is to take out a camera, as immediately you stop what you are doing and want to come and play with the buttons. I wonder if we will ever capture these moments on film anymore, unless we install a 24 hour monitoring system, haha.

You are becoming such an affectionate little bean!

Two days ago, you had the worst night's sleep you have had in months. Your daddy and I were both awake from 1am until 5am, and when you woke up happy at 7am, you had to make do with playing around our supine bodies as we lay on the rug.

And then came the moment.

You ran up to your daddy and kissed him.

Then you ran up to me, touched your forehead to mine and kissed me. Then back to your daddy for another kiss, then back to me. And again and again and again.

The look on your face was as if you knew this was a big deal. You weren't just throwing your body on us for a fun wrestling match, as you do most evenings, but you were being gentle and lovely and... almost apologetic.
And then yesterday I became so incredibly sick. I was lying on the couch in at least eight layers of clothing, underneath a blanket with my thick jacket and hood on, shivering away. You were playing with your daddy but would come up to me occasionally with a furrowed brow and I'd tell you I was sick. You put your hand on my head, kissed my cheek and brought me the 'Time for Bed' book.

This is the little boy that you are. These are the wonderful moments you give me.

Goodness, how I love you. Do you know I wrote a song about how I love you? Remind me to play it to you one day.

Love Mummy.

Portrait Series: The Great Battle

Dear Beanie,

Why is it that you only reach the stage of hating clothes as the temperature drops to the minuses? Why?

It is very very tough for me to get any pants on you. And although you can now say 'shoes', 'cardi', 'jacket', 'scarf' and 'hat', you run away or throw your body on the floor, head back screaming, if any of those things come near you. Let's not even mention the mittens. (To be honest, it's not like that every time. Sometimes you want to try on every pair of shoes in the house. But without pants, of course.)

A portrait of my son, once a week, every week.
The Great Battle: This is your reaction to the rooster. Every time.

I have many naked pictures of you from the past week or two, but I wanted to show you what things have come to. This morning, I decided that I would give you my phone. I tried so long to keep you screen-free, what with all the evidence everywhere of television and screen time being detrimental to under-twos. But... well... sometimes you have to choose your battles. And if getting you to poke at farm animals on my phone that then moo, baa or cockadoodledo means that you will get dressed? Maybe I just have to swallow my pride.

The biggest thing I have learnt on this parenting journey so far? Motherhood is all about eating humble pie. :)

At least you are happy!

I love you so much, my little monster!

Love, Mummy.

Oops... Our first winter accident.

Hello my gorgeous sausage!

I just want to say sorry for zipping your beautiful little round belly into your snow suit today... Yowsers, that would have really hurt, little one! And I must admit that it hurt my pride a little too... All those old ladies staring at me at the supermarket entrance... I wish I had a little "I'm an Australian! I don't know anything about snow!" flag that I could wave about in such situations. 

I suppose that's the first accident of this winter... I'm on my way to getting as prepared as possible to prevent last winter's accident, where I slipped in the snow, used your pram to hold me up and ended up pulling you on top of me. Of course that was literally the only time where I hadn't strapped you in while walking you up and down for your nap, and you proceeded to fall out, get trapped in the plastic rain cover while I was like someone from a cartoon, my feet sliding all over the place in the panic to rescue you, but not getting anywhere... Needless to say, you didn't die and, from what I can tell, there was no lasting brain injury, but I now have boots with the thickest, deepest grip ever. They would rival the boots of a soccer player. In fact, maybe I could get your daddy to hammer in some big nails into the soles for good measure...

For now, you just have a bruised belly. Fingers crossed...

Love you!
Love Mummy.

Portrait Series: SNOW!

Dear Beanie,

SNOW! The snow has arrived!

A portrait of my son, once a week, every week.
SNOW!
(though you're yet to really make up your mind as to how you feel about it...)

It began falling as I was walking to collect you from daycare yesterday evening... the flakes were the best kind, about the diameter of an apricot (why did I immediately think apricot when trying to come up with something of that size?), and so so fluffy. I took you to the window and showed you the beauty that you were about to step into, and you proclaimed them to be 'bubbles' coming from the sky.

Nothing beats the wonder of toddlerhood

I nearly collapsed from the cuteness as we walked home in the snow, my darling. You were in such awe, spinning around with your face up, saying, 'Bubbles! Bubbles! WOW! Bubbles! WOW!' I still swoon thinking about it! By the time we got home, you had learnt the word 'snow'. I forget that I have an Australian accent until I hear you immitate my 'O' sound... it makes me laugh.

Oh how I love you, little one! The winter has begun!

Love, Mummy.

The Death Trap (or... the playground and the overprotective parent)

Hello my little one!

It's time we talked about the playground.

The day before you popped out

When you were in my belly, your daddy and I spoke about our biggest fears about parenthood... the things that we wished with all our might that we would not be. My biggest fear was that I would be too overprotective. You'd end up socially inept, lacking in confidence and vitamin D deficient because I'd keep you inside, wrapped in a snowsuit (solely for its padded properties) for the first ten years of your life. On the plus side, you'd probably be great at your seventeen times-tables. Being overprotective is something that I can see would be very easy to fall into, and something that my anxiety-ridden, catastrophising mind kind of leans itself towards... so it is constantly a part of my consciousness to give you freedom, to let you fall, to get frustrated so that you can feel the elation at solving a problem yourself. I wonder if you will laugh at this later on when you read this... I wonder what kind of parent I will be when you are sixteen years old...

Ok. So onto the playground.

The deadly stones

There are two playgrounds that we frequent. One of them is just gorgeous, in the middle of the beautiful gardens of a grand villa on the lake, with lots of fun things for you: A big scary slide, some swings, a climbing frame, some wooden houses to play in, a dirt-pit (people in Switzerland don't know sand, it seems!), some bouncy animals and a merry-go-round style rope swing (hmm that's hard to explain). Not too much wrong here, but then you take into account the fact that the ground is not grass or sand, but stones. I wasn't able to take you here for the first 14 months of your life, because the most fun thing in the world was to attempt to choke yourself on these stones. If you did get one in your mouth and I discovered it, you'd throw your head back, open your mouth and start laughing hysterically.... and you were obviously only a moment away from death by playground.

Now, that's the best playground! Because the other one? Yowsers.

You, starting to get worried about being stuck... about to climb up further...

The other playground, next the where the ferry leaves, is more of an adventure playground. It has woodchips, sand or grass on the ground (better!), has a fun set of channels with a fountain so you can make dams, float sticks, experiment with floating and sinking objects, and splash about in the water. In the winter, it's turned off, so you are left with the pirate ship to explore, along with lots of rope ladders and climbing frames. The pirate ship is very high, at least two metres, and has big open edges for you to topple over when you are looking behind you, or when another child gets annoyed and shoves you. It has benches for you to climb on and topple over the top when you lose your footing. And worse? It is impossible for me to get up there too. I currently can't lift one arm, so when you recently got stuck up the bench and couldn't get down, I gave you a while to figure it out and then, when it looked like it was just not going to happen and you became more and more scared, when you began to consider the option of falling over the edge instead, I just had to get up there. I scrambled up the side, scratching my elbows, bruising my hips and knees, bashing my head, envisioning your little neck snapping as it hit the ground... and then, of course, when I finally got up there, there you were, having rescued yourself.

The super-fun water channels 

Playground politics are tough. There are these terms that float about: The 'helicopter parent', who is always there, ready to 'help', never allowing their children to struggle. There is the 'couch parent', who just sits by and watches as their kids struggle and never gets involved to play with them or help when they really need. There is the 'free-range parent', who allows their children to explore independently, while hopefully raising them to know that they are capable, while also being able to ask for help from mum or dad. Everything has a label now. I try to be a free-range kind of parent, but I also just love actively playing with you, so I suppose you're more of a corn-fed child than a free-range one...

Leaving you to be a free-range boy.

Now lets wait for some black ice to throw itself into the mix... yikes! Deep breath, Mummy... :)

I love you soooo much, Possum!

Love, Mummy.

Portrait Series: Stealing a snuggle

Dear Beanie,

I heard something recently about the vast number of changes that come about once a child stops breast or bottle feeding. Not only are there the obvious changes in food consumption, but there is a significant drop in snuggle time and intimacy. This is one thing that I have always loved about feeding you a bottle, no matter what time of day or night -- it is where we snuggle. I have never encouraged you to hold it yourself (though I didn't actively yank it out of your hands, or anything!), because then I knew my time would be over.

It turns out that isn't true. Now you are very capable of holding your bottle, but you still sometimes need me to do it for you. I can't snuggle you the way I would really love to because of my stupid stupid shoulder, so our makeshift snuggles are where the side of the couch is my other arm.

A portrait of my son (with me, this week!), once a week, every week.
Stealing a Snuggle (with 6.30am bed hair)

I love these moments, although they only last around one minute now, because you are one hell of an active little boy. You rarely stop bouncing around all over the place, running laps around the kitchen island, pulling your wooden caterpillar around the house, throwing and kicking your big foam ball, and zooming your cars under chairs. Moments like these... I breathe them in deeply. I know they are nearly over.

I hope you'll still give me big big hugs even when you are forty.

I love you, Bean.

Love Mummy.

P.S. You said 'animal' and 'calculator' today! Wowsers, my big boy!

Nature versus Nurture: Being a BOY!

Hello my gorgeous boy!

I've been thinking a lot lately about parenthood, and about how I always thought that nurture had more of an impact that it seems to. Gender neutrality has been important to me from the moment that I found out you were inside my belly, growing away. I didn't want to ever make you feel pressured into being something that you didn't feel you naturally were... if you want to spend your days wearing princess costumes, going to dance class, colouring in using only the pinks and purples, putting clips in your hair, then go for it. I wasn't going to actively encourage this, either, but just leave everything accessible to you to choose what you want.

Mummy, when will I be old enough to do that?

When you were very very very little, I got into a conversation with a friend about how I have no great desires for you to become a doctor or an engineer or an architect; in fact, I joked, I'd love it if you became a hairdresser. To me, this is a kind of profession that you would choose to make yourself happy, doing something that you love. That is what I care most about. Plus you'd save me a packet on hairdressing costs ;) Maybe you'll become a construction worker though... that's probably your dream job right now!

You at 9 weeks with your big blue eyes. 

I often dressed you in baby blues, little one, which surprised me, until I realised that even if you were a girl, I would still dress you in blues. You looked so cute in that colour with your big blue eyes! And although you had cute wooden cars as toys, you also had dolls. But you know what? You couldn't care less about your doll. From the moment you wake up, for the last couple of days, you say, 'Cars! Cars! Cars! Cars!' or 'Digger! Digger! Digger! Digger!' and you are desperate to go and play with your boy toys. You like building things, knocking them down, watching construction, playing with and watching cars, trucks, tractors, buses and trains, kicking and throwing balls and playing dress-ups in your daddy's clothes and shoes. 

DIGGER!!

You are a little boy, there's no doubt about it. I hope that I will never hear the words, 'Boys will be boys' come out of my mouth though, as some kind of an excuse for something that you do. But I doubt it will. Along with being interested in all those typically boyish things, you remain one of the most gentle and sensitive little people that I've ever met. You still go all smiley and squeaky whenever you see a little baby, and want to very very gently tough its hand, but only with permission. You still get upset whenever another child is upset. You still seem to intently want to make other children happy, which makes me so so proud to be your mummy. Writing these things out now, it makes me realise that you are like your daddy. He is also a very gentle and caring man. Wow, I'm a lucky lady to have you both in my life! 

Alright, it's corny. But we love you! 

I love you, my little boy! I couldn't love you more! 

Love Mummy. 

Portrait Series: On a Ledge

Dear Beanie,

I'm sick again, my darling, so I'm sorry that I've neglected to write to you this week. You are achieving mountains, and I'm spending my quiet time sleeping on the couch instead of writing.

This week's portrait isn't the one I had originally intended to use, but your nanny went back to Australia with her camera today before I remembered to steal it! So we'll save it for later.

A portrait of my son, once a week, every week.
On a ledge

This portrait just shows something very little, really, but it's still very exciting for you! Now when we go walking, you attempt to find any ledge of any description to practice your tightrope walking. However long the gutter, railing, decorative stone edging or border, that is how long you will practice. So... looking at your photo above, you can see how long it takes us to go for a morning stroll nowadays! That is one long ledge! It's super cute watching you carefully pop one foot in front of the other,  teeter a little and push away any helping hand with indignation.

I love you, little bean!

Love Mummy.

Guest letter from Nanny

Your Nanny wrote you a letter, little one! She wants me to type it out for you, so here goes:

* * *

Nanny makes you giggle!

Darling little Ruben, what a lovely time we are having together. I love getting to know your own little personality, it has been such a joy for me. You are a thinker, that's for sure. The little mind ticks away quickly and your facial expressions show that you are soaking up information at the speed of lightening.

You love wheels and 'Diggers' - yes, diggers. When I was in Perth, Skyping with you, I had a little book to read you that was not only about diggers, but also had a wheel you could turn. "Wow" for the 'Wow Boy' - You love that book! And what a lucky boy you are to have a digger outside your apartment digging up the driverway, how exciting for you! We both sit on the steps and watch together as it digs up the dirt and puts it into the truck. We wave and laugh at the lazy man leaning on his shovel, watching. Haha! Happens in Swizz too!

Opening your first digger, a
'just because' present from Nanny

Tired cuddles

You are so soft and gooey and very gentle with the little babies that are your friends, at playgroup and at krippe. You are sooo funny when you see animals like dogs or chooks, the sheep, cows, donkeys etc. We go to the farm to buy eggs and pears and you squeal, laugh and do spinnies!


You love stomping in puddles and taking your shoes off to paddle at the lake's edge. We feed old bread to the ducks and you make your nanny nervous that you will jump into the lake with them! And sometimes you at the bread too. I love the way we are learning to count using the Playdoh balls, you in English, me in German. You are doing much better then me! Eight is your favourite number. In the evening we sit on the floor and you snuggle against me as we read books. It almost makes me cry with joy. You pick the books out yourself.

One, two, three, einz, zwei, drei,

You have grown up so much since I came to your house three weeks ago. You are talking so much and putting words together, like, "Bye-bye digger!", and even speaking some German, like 'Nein" (no) and "Heiss" (hot). A very clever little boy! You are sleeping almost every night without a bottle now, and you don't sit down and cry if you can't have what you want -- ie. crossing the busy streets yourself. Now you hold onto Mummy, Daddy or Nanny's hand. All of this rapid progress is obviously attributed to my being with you!!! :)

Ruben, I know you are very happy living, growing and learning in Zurich, and I'm happy your parents have chosen to bring you up in Switzerland, the country they have chosen to live in. I'm glad I visited while you are at such a fantastic age. Keep laughing, dancing and enjoying life, my darling boy. I won't miss you so much now because I know that you have a wonderful life here with lots of friends and the most fantastic parents you could ever wish for.

Lots of love,
Nanny.

Portrait Series: Your first pose

Dear Beanie,

After many many portraits of you, this week something changed. For the first time, you were aware of your photo being taken. Sure, in the past you knew there was a black box with lots of buttons (!) pointed at you, but now you understand what this means. You had been busy playing with your new alphabet mat, and then the camera came out. You stood up, faced the lens, put your hands by your sides -- all with a serious look on your face -- and then smiled.

A portrait of my son, once a week every week.
Your first pose.

I feel a little bittersweet about this. It worries me that children are so aware of their own image now, largely because of this digital age (could I sound any older?!) and the ability to have their photo taken and then immediately view their image. I thought that you were still a little too young to have reached the mirror stage, where you recognise that the little boy in the mirror is actually you, but it turns out that you are at exactly that age now. Perhaps you now know what you look like and can recognise that the boy in those images on that screen (and in the mirror) is actually you, and that you can have some control over that image.

This is another thing that I just need to relinquish control over. It is something that will happen... but I'm not sure it is something I'm ready for. It is one of my strongest wishes as your mummy to raise you to be confident in your own skin and to truly know how beautiful you are. I want you never ever ever to doubt this. You are such an incredible creation. Watching your amazing body achieve all the amazing things that bodies are capable of... I want you to forever love that!

Meanwhile, I did also manage to catch an unposed photo of you, where I made you giggle. I know which one I like better... Though there is something in this picture that makes you look about five years old, not seventeen months!

I love you, my beautiful boy!

Love, Mummy.

Autumn

Dear Beanie,

This time last year I was writing about October. It was snowing, the leaves were crimson, and there was a week of warm sunshine forecast. October simply must be my favourite month of the year, and although the first two weeks of this October were grey and filled with what we Aussies call 'European Rain' (that is, rain that just seems to penetrate slowly into everything, including your brain), the last two have redeemed it. It remains my favourite month!

A beautiful Autumn day!

The colours are just incredible, and something that I could never have imagined before living here. It is strange for me to think that this, along with snow and lakes and mountains and punctuality, will be your idea of normal; that Eucalypts, the Indian Ocean and magpie song will be a thing of holidays only.

The incredible colours of October

You are walking more and more lately and we are using the pram less and less. You are fascinated by the fallen leaves and my heart swells in predictable joy to watch you run about in them and fling them above your head, as if you are in an advert for some children's clothing brand.

While I still remain a little scared about the winter and all the slipping, sliding and crashing that will surely entail when we have a new-ish walking boy holding the hand of his mummy who has very little ice and snow experience, we will embrace this new existence together and, as with many future things I'm sure, you will no doubt have much to teach me by the season's end.

I love you, my beautiful happy boy.

Love, Mummy.

Portrait Series: Being a Baby

Hello my little muffin!

I'm still sick, so I'm sorry I haven't written to you much lately. There are so many things I need to write to you about... about your first colouring in competition, about your wonderful relationship with your nanny who is currently visiting from Australia, about your newfound love of all things to do with construction sites, and a thousand times about your changing sleep patterns. Sleep is so boring when you are getting enough, but when you spend seventeen months of your life in a zombie state of exhaustion (maybe one day you will have your own babies and will understand!), sleep is the most exciting thing in the whole world!

But right now, it's portrait time.

A portrait of my son, once a week, every week.
Being a Baby! 

Your life is one big contradiction at the moment, little boy! I spend so much time throughout the day telling you what a big boy you are now and how proud we are of you for not needing a bottle at night (though you still really want one!), telling everyone that will listen and telling all your stuffed animals how you are such a big boy. But then you are having these moments for the past week or two where you love pretending to be a baby! It is the cutest thing ever. You found your old play-gym from when you were a baby, and you love to lie under it like the 'old days' and kick at the mobile and the bell. You always giggle when we say you are 'being a baby'. It makes me laugh and laugh, because of course you are still my little baby! Once your nanny got underneath it to pretend to be a baby too, and you squished yourself in next to her for some giggly time together. So so cute!

Goodness, I love you, my big boy / little baby.

Love Mummy.

Portrait Series: Small Spaces

Dear Beanie,

This will be a super short letter today, as I'm sick in bed and your daddy and Nanny have taken you for a fun day in the mountains.

Small spaces

I chose this photo of you because it shows how you are becoming just a little more confident with going into tricky places. You are yet to ever venture into anything that resembles a tunnel, though you are squeezing into places and very occasionally crawling under chairs or under the table. The day when you pop your whole body into the tunnel at the playground will be a big one!  I don't like tunnels either... Your nanny says you must still be scarred from your tough birth, haha. Perhaps! Who knows!

I love you, muffin.

Love, Mummy.

Seventeen Months: "WOW!"

Dear Beanie,

Happy seventeen months! "Wow!", you'd say, and you'd be right! 

Truly a happy little boy!

I thought I'd start your monthly update by telling you all the things that other people say about you. You know that your daddy and I think you're the bee's knees, but what about the rest of the world? These are some things that people repeatedly say about you – both friends and strangers: You are gentle, sweet, so contented, you have the absolute cutest laugh, you are inquisitive, a thinker and an analyser, you are tentative, you are kind. And you are happy. It makes me so happy when other people tell me how happy you seem!

What can you do now?

A productive morning from my analytical boy :)

Your daddy and I agree: You have come leaps and bounds in the past month! It seems as if your brain has been so entirely focused on mastering walking and all that goes with it (walking sideways, walking backwards, walking on your toes, running, trotting, jumping, spinning, stair climbing...) that all of your cognitive development was kind of put on hold. And now there has been a total explosion! 


One month ago, you couldn't happily sit at your table and draw. Instead, you'd grab your pencils, pens and crayons, run over to our chest and insert them into the small slots, as if it was a shape sorter. Now you love to sit and draw. And just recently, you've discovered how much fun it is to draw all over yourself too :) 

One month ago, You couldn't drink from a cup or a bottle yourself. Or... should I say... you didn't. Now you are an expert! Though not at night in the cot... but this will come, if it needs to (which hopefully it won't!). 

One months ago, you would have a tantrum in frustration when you tried to do the wooden fruit puzzle. I'd have to put the apple just half a centimetre from its place and you'd have to slide it over to fit it in. Now, you can do the puzzle, almost every time, all by yourself! 

One month ago, reading books involved big board books only, and really was just about you flipping the pages as quickly as possible. Now, you listen to a story, you are gentle with real paper books, and you love to hunt around in the pictures for trees, balls, puppies, birds, cars, buses, boats and cows and elephants.


Now all of these things make you say, “WOW!” all day, every day. Indeed, little one. Wow!  

You amaze me, bean.

I love you.

Love, Mummy.