Portrait Series - 8/52: Conquering a Nemesis

I'm a bit late with my portrait this week, little bean. Sorry about that!

A portrait of my son, once a week, every week.
Conquering a nemesis: The volume nob.

This isn't the greatest quality of photo (I took it on my phone...), but it captures a lot about you and your personality at the moment. And I'm talking about more than just that cute little wrist-roll you are still sporting!

You have your engineering face on again... thinking, thinking, thinking. We have had issues with you and the volume nob a few months back, where you would turn it up full-blast and scare the living daylights out of yourself and everyone in the suburb, resulting in a complete melt-down that would take you a very long time to recover from. You have always been super super super sensitive to surprising loud noises, and this took the cake. Oh... besides the night of the fireworks...

But you have grown up now, little boy. Now you really understand. You stand there and turn it up and down an appropriate amount, discovering what it does and looking for how it works. You amazed me a few nights ago when we played your teeth-brushing song (everyone that has visited us knows it! Chh-ch-ch-ch!) before bed and you trotted over to the amp and turned the music up... just a little. Just enough so that it was more prominent and you could dance away in style.

I presume that these kinds of machines are often a no-no in other households, so I wonder what kind of trouble lays in our path in the months and years to come... but meanwhile, I love watching you discover.

Two big things

Oh my darling boy, I haven't written to you for a week and there is just so much to write about!

Your grandparents (your Daddy's dad and his step-mum) have been visiting the past few days and it has been busy busy busy! I haven't had a spare moment to write to you, although I have thought of little letters to you so often.

Two big things:

About a minute before you drifted off...

1: You fell asleep on me. During the day. This is something that I admit I have always envied in other parents with snoozy bubbies, but it has just never been your style. You've always needed a bit more coaxing. But this day? You just jumped into my lap when we were on the cog-wheel railway (so it was nice and jiggly), rested your head against me, closed your eyes and drifted off. I feel as though I have been waiting sixteen months for you to do this... no, that's not true. You used to do this when you were very tiny... so... fourteen months then? I could have cried!

2. YOU STARTED CLAPPING!!!! You may be an absolute over-achieving genius in every other sense of the word, but my little boy, we have been waiting for this one for a very long time! I think that it was as big a deal to your daddy and I as when you started walking! I started singing our 'put the toys away' song, which is perhaps the most boring and repetitive song I know, and there you were, suddenly bopping up and down and clapping away. And now, of course, it is your new trick. :)

I couldn't love you more, my little one. I would just burst.

Love, Mummy.

A walk with my bean

Dear Beanie,

Looking at the ducks down there!

One of my favourite things to do is to go for a walk with you. Walking is still a pretty new and exciting phenomenon for you, and we are both still working out the logistics of walking together. Like... what do I do when you are so foot-stampingly adamant that you will walk alone, without holding my hand, without my hand on your back, but we are on the busy street? Do I let you walk and simply walk between you and the cars, ready to pounce at a moment's notice when you spot a drain in the middle of the road that you'd like to peer into? Or do I pick you up, protesting like mad, and carry you until you learn that you must hold my hand when we are on the busy street? Or do I buy one of those laughable little backpacks that have a leash attached (that I can now see the practicality of...)? I want you to exert your independence, but it is my job to keep you safe. It's a tough one.

Despite these parental questions, I just love walking with you. You are fascinated by things I would never have thought to look at: the tiny curling tendril of a vine, an ant carrying a crumb, a cobblestone that is a different colour to the rest. I love just letting you do what you want, go where you like, explore what you will.

There's buttons near that lift, right?

Your favourite things on these walks are the big statue of an elephant on the corner (why is it there? Nobody knows...), pushing the buttons for the lift at the pedestrian crossings (no surprises there), watching the ducks (you can now say 'duckies!'), running down the big ramp, and walking quickly quickly quickly across the train tracks, looking both ways again and again.



You're always tired about two hundred metres from home, which is where I pop you in the sling and we have lots of cuddles and kisses as we meander back. I think we nearly caused an accident yesterday because I started kissing you all over your face and making you giggle hysterically, and a driver must have been watching us and had to skid to a very speedy stop to stop themselves from ramming the car in front. Achtung!

Tired and giggly with your pink dummy
 (embracing gender neutrality!)

Goodness, I love you, my little boy. I suck up these beautiful moments. Yes, walking with you takes an hour to cover the distance that I would normally cover in six minutes, but there is such wonder and joy to be had at this world around us. I love that you open me up to this.

I love you, bubba.
Love, Mummy.

Portrait Series: 7/52 - My animal lover

Hello bubbalicious!

Well I am super pushed for time today, seeing as we just arrived home fro Denmark last night. I could never have imagined the mound of washing that a wee boy such as yourself could create on a five day holiday!

As usual, I have so many wonderful photos of you. Reading books with your Danish-Grandmother-three-times-removed, walking along the sandy banks of the fjord, sitting on your daddy's shoulders as you stand out on the jetty, playing with the netball at my sporting tournament... but I chose this one.

A portrait of my son, once a week, every week.
My animal lover.

You are a real animal lover, it seems. I had NEVER seen you more excited than when your Danish-Auntie-and-uncle-and-cousins-three-times-removed showed you their two rabbits. Oh the giggles and the squeaks you made! And I was so proud of you. You were so so gentle with them, and seemed to understand that they are to be respected. But there was much foot stamping joy to be had!

I thought that was it. I thought you had hit your happy peak. And then there was the little puppy dog at the other family's house. Holy shamozzle I thought you would just burst open with excitement! But once again, amidst your squeals and hysterical laughing, you were so gentle.

There has been a seed planted in my brain, little one. A seed that says I should think more about this 'pet' situation. I never had a 'real' pet when I was growing up, and I think one day I would like one too. But it makes travelling difficult... and it adds another pressure to living in an apartment... sigh. We'll see. It is just a seed.

I love you ever so much.
Love Mummy.

A Button-y Tantrum

Hello Bubbaloo!

It has been many many months since you first discovered the button on my jeans. It has also been many months since you discovered light switches and our doorbell. The joy you get from buttons astounds me.

I thought it would be so cute to let you press buttons for the lift, on the bus, to open the doors on the train, etc. Turns out, you want to do it all the time. I can't emphasise that enough. ALL. THE. TIME. When we walk past a lift, you will not budge until you can press the buttons. When we are on the bus, you will have a total flip out if you don't get to push the button (even when I moved to a seat away from the button, you still managed to find one close enough to you...).

This is you, this morning. You were just squatting there in front of the lift, waiting for me to come and pick you up to push the buttons. You waited and waited and waited and I walked further and further away. Then you got up (of course at the moment that I decide to take a photo), walked in a circle, and sat down crying.

Guess what happened next?

The lift door opened and two older ladies came out, face to face with a crying toddler, alone on the bridge. They were ready to hand out Mother of the Year awards, that is for sure!

In other news, today is a big day... we are about to jump on another aeroplane! But this time it's only for a tiny amount of time, to fly up to Copenhagen so you can watch me play netball. Exciting, huh? I hope you aren't too traumatised by your flight to Australia, and I hope you don't get too frustrated at all those buttons on the plane that you are not allowed to push!

I love you,
Love Mummy.

Portrait Series: 6/52 - Your Engineering Face

Dear Beanie,

Ice cream!

It was such a tough week to choose just one portrait of you! I have a bunch of cute ones... and all of them show a particular side of you. There's the one of you at the farm, trying to push a big round stone through a gap in the wire for the goat. Stones are your favourite, and it was a real offering to give this carefully selected treasure to your new goaty friend :)

There's the one of you trying your first real ice cream! You weren't so sure at first, but with a lot (a bit too much, really!) of coercion from your Daddy and our visiting daddy, you really got into it! Not surprising, eh? Now I feel like I've opened a door to the dark side... You've been a totally healthy, all natural boy up until now...

There is the one of you playing with your Daddy's old accordion, discovering what the buttons do and how to pull it apart.

And then, on a related note, there is the one I am choosing. I love this photo of you (with me - your Daddy took this photo!) in the cog-wheel train up Mount Pilatus, playing with the window handle, learning what it does and how it works. Your 'Engineering Face', we call it. There is an intensity that washes over you when you are discovering. Your mouth opens, your eyes grow wide, and even when you are surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery in the world, nothing will turn your focus away from your "Why is it so?".  This is one of the countless things that I love about you.

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

Your "Engineering Face".

As always, I'm thanking this mum for the portrait series idea.

I love you, Bubbaloo. So much.
Love,
Mummy.

Being a little brother

Dear Beanie,

Batman being so patient with your babbles
only a minute or two after he woke up. :)

For the past two and a bit weeks, you've been honorary little brother to our wonderful visitors. Little J is only five months older than you, which seemed such a big age difference back when you were 10 months old and we were in Australia. Now, you are taller than her and the gap between you two is steadily becoming less and less significant. Then there is Batman (or at least he is Batman for half of the time...), who is so incredibly sweet with you. In the mornings, he is often the first down, and you bombard him with your chitter chatter chitter chatter, and I just can't help but laughing myself silly as he looks at you, nods, and pats you gently on the head. Sometimes he'll even go in for a cuddle. Oh you kids!

I was very impressed with you yesterday, little one! We had a huge day trip up Mount Pilatus and you were a super star. You were happy all day, had a good little sleep on me during the boat trip, went exploring through tunnels and were just a brilliantly behaved, wonderful little boy.

Speaking of being so brilliantly behaved, I'm beginning to realise that many of your foibles that I often just attributed to your age and development (ie sharing or not, caring when others take your toys or not, etc) is actually not the case. You actually are simply a gentle, sensitive, loving, sociable boy. You give people things because you think it will make them happy. You let other children play with your toy if you think they want it more than you. You are thoughtful.

I wish I could explain this to you more... but it is just a feeling I have from the hundreds of little things you do throughout the day. It's the way you have reacted to having your quiet little house bombarded with two other small children and two adults that you met months ago.

I'm so proud of you, little one.

I love you,

Love Mummy.