Harrison "Have-a-chat"

A vocation in communication is appearing to be a likely profession for my son to follow. At 17 months old, I have literally lost count of how many words he now has in his ever expanding vocabulary. Apparently at his age he should have about 20. Triple that figure and I think we might be close…

The husband and I have become quite blasé though about this stunning speech ability. Its not until we set our son upon strangers that we are reminded that this is not entirely a normal trait for one so young. For example, last week we met the sweet older couple who live across from us and Harrison, koala bear style, cuddled shyly into my shoulder and refused all entreaties to interact. That was, until, she generously gave him a present of a book on his favourite thing in the world – transportation!

Well, I thought Gloria might just fall off her sofa lounge in shock when she heard the first ramble roll forth from Harrison’s mouth: “Wow, car, two cars, truck, bus, big bus, WOW!” he babbled in excitement while her eyes grew wide with awe. ‘He’ll be enrolled at university in a few years” she later concluded, after 20 minutes in his chatterbox company!

His new day-care teachers are quite dumbfounded too, by this gift of the gab. ‘Your son is excellent with his words” they praise, and are probably (quietly) pleased they have someone in their under two room who they can attempt to communicate with – or at least try to reason with. Challenging as it is communicating effectively with a toddler, I comfort myself with the knowledge that if he is able to learn new words so successfully then, God Help Me, he’ll soon understand what it means when mummy says “no”!

I think the cutest language quirk he has adopted of late is his grasping of the adult concept of the whisper too. Oh yes, it is quite hilarious to see, complete too with the requisite pointing finger raised to his lips, followed by talking in hushed tones. Aunty Shez takes credit for teaching this feat to her nephew, after a babysitting session when my boisterous son had to be reminded that his baby cousin Mason was sleeping. Now, at the mere mention of Mason’s name Harrison breaks out into “Sshhh, Missin (as he calls him) nigh nigh” and then proceeds to whisper anything further instructions for the next minute. Priceless!

Bathtime is quite appropriately, the best time for him to soak up new words like a sponge. We’ll go through names of his family members or people he’s going to be seeing soon, or things we have seen and, if I can get his attention, he’ll happily try and twist his little tongue around the sounds I am making. A couple of nights ago, leading up to a visit from Uncle Damo, we said his name a few times in the bath, and then for days, that was all I heard “Damo, Damo, Damo…” Though TV has a bit to answer for too of late – watching as many episodes of Go Diego Go as we do, he has just this last day started saying ‘Hola Diego” when he sees him come on screen – a second language already; TV isn’t so bad after all J

This clever, but ceaseless chatter does come with a disclaimer. Cute as it is, you have to be prepared to listen to it ALL DAY LONG. From sun up to sun down, there is Harrison, commentating the whole day through. Travelling in the car is especially where he will come into his own. There he’ll be, offering up a steady stream of “Car! Car! Big Bus! WOW! Bye-bye Big Bus! Truck! Car! Wow!” and so on it seamlessly transfers to every aspect of our day. In fact, I know that if it is suddenly silent it either means he is into mischief or shy in the presence of someone he isn’t yet comfortable with.

So watch out sports commentators, politicians, TV presenters etc of the world, my son Harrison "Have-a-Chat" is snapping at your heels!

Cartoon Connection

The children’s cartoon world is becoming frighteningly familiar to me. Before I entered this toddler TV realm, I’d naively assumed that The Wiggles and Hi-Five were about the extent of the viewing pleasure on offer. No fear, the choice is (overwhelmingly) endless!

Oh yes, I feel like I have become somewhat of an authority on this subject (which is an alarming thing to admit to – DEFINITELY time to go back to work). With the advent of about 10 different kid’s channels to suddenly choose from in our house, I’ve begun nominating my own favourite shows and too, have a list of those I try to avoid at all costs. Top of which is the bizarre Yo Gabba Gabba – it makes my skin crawl for some reason. As for the peculiar creatures, well they have made their songs and speech far too simple that I am almost embarrassed for them. One day they launched into one about “shaking the silly” out of your system because one of the strange characters was acting a little loco, other times it’s a odd little ditty devoted to the danger of running with scissors. Straightforward, yes, but creative… I think not, when there are often only 3 words total being repeated over and over again…(yet, as the Husband pointed out, this still works for Ms Britney Spears career!). Couple those eccentric looking creatures and ludicrously enthusiastic DJ guy and I cant help but conclude that they are far too creepy for my liking!

I don’t go much on that Iggle Piggle and his motley bunch of unusual friends either. Harrison, however, cant get enough of “Giggle” (as he calls him), therefore much to my dismay we are deigned to visit his wacky world every single day. Maybe I am missing something – perhaps the key to success is in the simplicity?? If only I could have thought up throwing together a bunch of mis-matched made up words and contrasting characters then I’d have surely earned a fortune by now…

And if Harrison isn’t reciting a saying from one of the many shows he’s viewed, then I am. The songs too, they worm their way into your subconscious with an alacrity to alarm even the most resistant mind. Sesame Street’s Ollie busted a rhyme and broke into rap this morning – which is just as well as his “Days of the Week Song” was, annoyingly, taking up permanent rotation in my head. Thank God for some fresh material Ollie!

It’s not all bad, as some learning is at least woven into two of Harrison’s (and my) favourites – Dora The Explorer and Go Diego Go. Oh yes, a little Spanish is being picked up along the way – Hola Education! Soon he’ll be greeting me “Buenos Dias” first thing in the morning and introducing me to his “amigo’s” at day-care. Who needs to enrol at community college to learn a second language when this sort of fare is found on TV???

Then there are the ‘toons that surely were made with adults in mind – The Penguins of Madagascar and Shaun the Sheep spring immediately to my attention. Quite hilarious fodder to consume (Harrison’s Pappy even became a fan of the “Pen-peghns”, as they are known in our home) with some of the jokes and antics bound to be lost on the little ones but sure to get a giggle out of us older folk.

But you know you have consumed far more children’s TV than healthy when you recognise one of the performers from Hi-Five at the airport and unconsciously go to warmly wave and shout hi, as if greeting an old friend.

And if anyone dares diss me for letting my son watch TV in the first place then I’ll have them know not only has it helped expand his already sizable vocabulary (he now tells me which show he wants to watch, quite funny really, considering he’s 17mths old!) but he’s breaking out with the first part of the alphabet, thank you very much, reciting “abc” (thanks ABC 2 channel for that), along with many other new words.

But alas, a long time ago, in a far away galaxy, when my son was not at all interested in TV (and, I’ll admit, I wasn’t in need of the electronic babysitter so much, in order to get things done), I used to have my own schedule of shows to either watch, or at least have as background company. How TV times have changed, sigh… Gone are the days of Sex & The City marathons and re-runs of the Office… I do draw the line at Ellen and Oprah – he is just going to have to share the idiot box when it comes to my two jewels in the TV viewing crown!

Well what a difference a week makes….

Well what a difference a week makes….

This time last week I felt like I ought to pack myself off to the funny farm for some serious therapy and saddle my son along for the ride to get an expert to re-establish some semblance of routine into his disrupted little life of late but some seven days later the equilibrium has been restored and our happy home is once more. It aint all peaches and cream just yet but safe to say dessert is on the way!

So what has brought about this metamorphose of monumental proportions?

Mainly, having HELP! On the wings on an angel of mercy flew my Dad, arriving on the weekend to save my soul from insanity and keep my son entertained for a couple of days. There is nothing quite as captivating as a beloved “Pappy” to prove to be a perfect distraction while Mummy attends to the mammoth amount of tasks she’d like to achieve before 2011 rolls in. Yes, I FINALLY managed to unpack some of those pesky boxes milling underfoot and found homes for the various paraphernalia that fell previously into the “Too Hard Basket”. Slowly but surely all OH&S hazards are finally being removed, hallelujah!

My Dad has this magical quality of purveying a sense of calm in any situation and so he did with me and my little home. Order once more restored!

Certainly we are all growing more familiar with our new surroundings and community too, which helps. Two sets of neighbours have been met, which include a young family with a boy only a month younger than Master Harry, along with the sweetest old couple across the road, who have that enchanting “surrogate grandparents” feel to them. They even presented Harrison with a gift, upon knowing him for all of three minutes, so you can imagine how won over he is already. He even deigned to give Gloria a kiss goodbye, after knowing her for some 20 minutes total! Harrison has relatives he has seem more and reacted less favourably too…

Thankfully too, the toddler had found his way free from underneath my feet and has taken to not so frequently latching on to my leg and demanding my undivided attention. The previously unexplored is now fair game and it’s now a task to keep up with him as I traipse after his inquisitive little self and see where the trip may take us.

He who would not step on the grass without combusting into tears and leaping for the nearest slab of concrete, has now taken to roaming with abandon up and down the grassy stretches that lay beyond our front fence. This morning for instance, at 8am and feeling rather couped up inside, we toddled off to play out front with his beloved tractor. It wasn’t long til he yearned for greener pastures, and like a nomad who intuitively knows his way, off he set, ploughing through the kerbside grassed lawns of our neighbours, without so much as a cursory glance back at his mummy (who, incidentally had no idea this impromptu pilgrimage was to take place so was forced to squelch through the dewy lawns sans shoes). He’d have wandered the whole avenue through, had I let him. He’d gotten a glimpse of freedom and finally begun to relish the vastness of his new home.

So, its almost as if we can, at last, announce that we are “home”…

Groundhog Day?

If there is one thing this enforced extra long Christmas break has done for me it is to serve as a stark reminder that I am, more than ever, glad to be a working mum! Maybe it’s the move, perhaps I am out of practice, or it could just be the isolation… (likely its all three) but I am more and more certain its easier to be at your paid place of employment than to be a full time stay-at-home mum.


Hopefully this doesn’t then paint me in some ill-conceived parenting light. But it’s the truth – I can assure you I love my son and we do have moments of bliss here at home, but bloody hell, they are tough and bone wearingly tiring days trying to keep him amused, out of mischief and, at the present moment, to reintroduce his routine and therefore per-fect a decent stretch of lunch time sleep.

I’d much rather be at work answering a curly question from the CEO than hear the sound of my voice saying over and over again “Harrison, don’t touch”, “Harrison, no, that’s NOT a toy”, or my personal favourite – “Harrison, its 5.45am, PLEASE go back to sleep!” day in and dayout as is currently the case. And the simple fact my son has started to parrot me and saying “Harrison, NO!” in his little voice, is evidence of just how much he has heard that phrase of late…

The husband reminds me that its just a very “hands-on” age, one where he and I both yearn for some independence but as yet cannot grant it for safety sake. Could it be the case I just have one super spirited son in my charge? A friend told me she painted their whole unit while her son happily played in a cordoned off area. Makes you wonder what I am doing wrong when you think about the state of unpack and mess my new house is still in, 10 days on from moving in!

Maybe it would be different if we lived closer to Harrison’s grandparents. I envy those who can just drop by and hang out at their parents, or in-laws place and have a wide web of friends and family close to hand in which to wile away the sometimes tedium of the day. I know many are parenting the way I am forced to, without any semblance of support network… I wonder, do they often feel the same sometimes overwhelming sense of solitude and sinking feeling that can strike when you see a happy pairing of mother, daughter and child strolling down a street or at the shops?

I guess its just on days like this when nothing seems to be going to plan, when its taken me 2 hours to get to the washing up and even longer to get myself dressed and ready to greet the outside world (had to welcome the furniture delivery men in my nightie this morning – at 10am! – and I’d been out of bed for 4 hours…) I don’t know whether to laugh, cry – or pour myself a stiff drink (which is ironic, seeing as though I am a virtual teetotaller these days!) And then when the Husband tells me he wont be home until late and Harrison has just thrown, in a fury of frustration, a full drink bottle of apple juice all over my freshly mopped floor (done begrudgingly at 7.30pm last night when I was bloody tired) you will hopefully forgive me this rant! Trust me, I will feel a lot better once this steam is released from my system…

At least tomorrow is a brand new day and we wipe clean today’s slate for a fresh start!

So Long Sydney... Hello Bateau Bay!

So here we are Central Coast, at last permanent residents of your blissful and sunny shores. After bidding so long to Sydney and saying bonjour to Bateau Bay (a titbit of trivia - Bateau being French for Boat apparently!) we have started to unravel our City selves and remodel them to suit a more relaxed lifestyle. Which I should add, is yet to come…. Something to do with a little fact about unpacking with one hand and entertaining a short attention spanned toddler with another… But I remain ever optimistic that it will start seeping into out lives soon and iron out the Sydney stresses!

The husband went back to work Wednesday which marked the first real test for me. Yes, Day One of Solo Parenting on the Central Coast has been crossed off the calendar – but oh what a loooong day it proved to be, considering Harrison woke at 5.55am and demanded, from the entire other end of the house “Up A Day, UP A DAY!” over an over again, meaning he was insisting that this day get underway and he get out of bed – NOW! Even without the (alarmingly common these days) early wake up call, I admit I was always nervous about this day. In general, the relocation was never going to be the easiest transition for my little guy – he with the already acutely refined memory who, without saying as much, is wondering where the bloody hell we are and when we'll be heading to our unit again. I can see it in those big blue eyes – he is a little lost and try as we might to explain that this place is now where we call home, I can see he is going to take some time to adjust to it all.

Speaking of his memory, I truly am amazed at how sharp it is – especially for a 16 month old! The previous owners had left a little ceramic dog in the garden bed by the front door and Harrison, when we first arrived two weeks before (and spent only 24 hours here!), excitedly found the “woof woof” and to my utter surprise, a whole fortnight later, as we again approached the front door for that first time, he started saying to me “woof woof, woof woof” over and over again, before pointing it out and saying, in his clever little voice “there’t tis!” With a memory like that, there is no wondering he is missing the previous comforts of home.

Makes it interesting when you are trying to unpack and settle in when you suddenly find yourself with a “Velcro baby” permanently fastened to your hip or clinging desperately to your constantly moving legs. Honestly, he couldn’t be closer to me these last few days unless I was pregnant with him all over again! And when you consider he has just come off the tail end of ten days of doting and undivided grandparent attention, its really no surprise at all that he is expecting me to emulate devoted and endless adoration. Which would be fine if I did not suddenly have a four bedroom home to put together – and, in case you are wondering, we LOVE our house! It's just frustrating that its still is in a ramshackle half unpacked state (except for Harrison’s room, which is thankfully a domain of solace for him) and between juggling him and getting on with everyday chores I am hopeful we will have the house looking ship shape some time before Easter!

I’ll admit to very strong pangs of loneliness washing over me at various stages today – just the usual variety of the fear of the unknown suddenly striking me, as I knew it would once we got here for good. I desperately miss my sister being so close and shed a few secret tears as we drove away from Sydney on Saturday night. Its an adjustment for us all and I know, once we give it a few months we’ll be the happiest we have ever been in our new community and our new home. Today’s solitude just slams home the stark reality that I need to put myself out there and make the effort to meet people – never an easy feat when you imagine there are already vast networks of long established friendships in place. The husband plans on marching us around the local vicinity and introducing us to our neighbours – a thought at which I’d previously shuddered at (I’m so Sydney in that way) but as he correctly points out, it’s the first step on the path of friendships we hope to forge soon.

So to my new year’s resolution – be far more sociable and open to meeting new people and settling in to our happy new home and life on the Central Coast! And may each day continue to get easier as we go on…

We Wish You A Weary Christmas…. And A Knackered New Year!

The light at the end of the exhaustive December tunnel has finally filtered through to my line of sight. What a whirlwind month it has been! If it wasn’t enough that we have had to juggle the facets of everyday busy life of work, home and caring for my (often unwell!) little boy, we have celebrated many Christmas festivities, made three tips to Coffs in 5 weeks AND timed it to move house. Well, to be perfectly precise, we are not just moving suburbs, but making ourselves a home in a whole other locality! Yes, its so long Sydney and bonjour Bateau Bay!

But we have somehow survived with our sanity intact and our son even seems to have come through the ordeal in a semi sane state. Sure, he has shown his impeccable timing with 2 colds, conjunctivitis, vomiting, croup and an ear infection all in the last five weeks but hey, if we can endure that on top of the moving logistics, we will weather just about any future battles!

Christmas, while smack bang in the blur of packing boxes and cleaning out accumulated and unwanted crap (no other word for it, I’m afraid!), was truly a special and pleasurable day away from all the pressure of relocating. We were lucky enough to share it not only with our beautiful boy, but our wonderful families too. Thank you to my big sis, the supreme chef and hostess for entertaining us all and making my extended family feel so welcome! May my own attempts one day at emulating the feast and festivities you displayed be just half as good again!

Of course, what is Christmas without the excitement of the little ones? Watching my boy giggle and race around after his big cousin Logan as they excitedly played with their new toys, unfurling presents from under the ornamented tree as Santa’s little (but not always so helpful) helpers and watching their faces morph into utter delight as they discovered the goodies wrapped within.

Yes, Harrison did already have one Christmas under his baby belt but being far too young last year to grasp any significance of the situation, this year he came into his own. Certainly the vivid colours of the various wrapping papers caught his eye and at times overshadowed the gifts, but he sure got the hang of it after stripping back the paper on the first few. He had been fascinated for days when his Poppy came bearing a present that made sounds through its wrapping – needless to say it was the first opened and probably his pick of the bunch so far. Thankfully Mummy has found the off switch on it as its BLOODY NOISY (as all perfect children’s gifts should be, I suppose) and is so sensitive you need only tiptoe past it and its motor kicks into gear!

So, after a crazy last day of work on the 23rd, which filtered into a frantic week encompassing Christmas, a Webeck gathering on Boxing Day, Mason’s Christening the next day and a frenzied final packing the day after for the big move on the 29th and being homeless (well, appliance-less in Kogarah with a roof over our head – VERY difficult to endure when you have a toddler to not only feed somehow but keep entertained!) we waited out in Sydney until we flew to Coffs for another whirlwind few days of people and parties for NYE. So forgive us one and all if you don’t hear from us until February. We may not have the energy to surface until then. I’ll be instead directing my dwindling power supplies to tackling the mammoth unpacking project that awaits along with helping my baby boy (who is daycare-less until almost the end of January) settle into his new abode.

One final footnote for those who may have sympathy for all we have heaped onto our plate this past month – it’s the best way I have found NOT to gain weight over the festive season. Just put yourself on a diet of stress and fill your social calendar to exploding point and you can pretty much eat whatever the hell you want and fear not that those extra kilos will creep on as they usually do come December. Not that I endorse it long term but for now it sure beats the gym!

Happy New Year one and all – may 2010 fulfil all your hopes and dreams for the future!