The Gift of Grandparents

Harrison (and the husband and I) have had the generous gift of grandparents bestowed upon us this last week. And what a difference two extra sets of hands make in the parenting world! Suddenly there are chasms of time that glisten in the day, to not only get things done without a toddler under foot, but various folds of “free time” appear! Previously we were stretched just trying to juggle and include all our required daily activities. Now we are on track to finally finishing unpacking since we moved in two and a half months ago – bonus!

By far the most pleasing aspect however is the effect this visit has had on Harrison and how wonderful it is to see him interact with his Grandma & Grandpa. “Ma-Ma and Pa-Pa” as he has affectionately labelled them, have played the role of the doting grandparent to perfection. They dutifully and enthusiastically participated in being perpetually dragged to and fro throughout the house at Harrison’s will, and when they get a rare break from him, they put themselves hard to work getting my house ship shape and finding the time to do jobs (like cleaning windows!) that I suspected I’d get around to doing sometime in 2012…

Its amazing to see how well Harrison behaves for them to. I am subtly trying to work out how we keep Grandpa from going home as dinnertime, when its fed from his hand, seems to be an effortless experience. Yet when its my turn to preside over the evening meal, we witness world war 3! And nappy changing time, ohhhh… It’s a battle of cataclysmic proportions complete with screaming, twisting and turning and takes on average 5 times longer than it should just to perform such a routine part of the day. But give the boy to Grandma and he lays perfectly still, quite content and relaxed by the whole scenario. Hell, today he even went so far to say “thank you Ma-Ma” after she had finished! At that point I had to leave the room lest I fainted in severe shock! How then do we also get her to stay, to keep ourselves sane 4 – 5 times a day?
Growing up, I cherished time with my grandparents so it is such a blessing to see my boy enjoy his own so much. Whether it be with his Nanny & Poppy or his Ma-Ma & Pa-Pa, Harrison is happiest when he is being showered in the undying devotion of his grandparents, and returning the affection and attention tenfold. This bond will continue to forge no matter the obstacles distance may prove!

Tuesday's with Harry...

If I could have picked a day to have frozen my son in time, it would have been Tuesday.


The strange thing is, I honestly cant pinpoint what exactly made this day so unique. Perhaps the simplest of days always are the most enchanting? Everything had an ethereal quality to it, as if I was living one of those mythical lives where everything was effortless. And that was with a child in tow, not as if I was swanning about in my pre-parenthood existence holidaying on some sundrenched secluded island!

Yes, it was just an ordinary day. There were chores, there was swimming lessons, there was shopping to be done. Yet with each activity, my son melted easily into the groove of the day

The sun rose, and along with it, my blue eyed boy, eager to get the day underway. We had a cuddle in Mummy’s bed, which of course, didn’t last long as after a full and sound night’s sleep, those baby batteries have been well and truly recharged and are rearing to be put to good use! And for some reason, for once I didn’t feel the magnets of my soft and warm bed reacting so violently to being extracted from its embrace.

We played, we laughed, we chased, we cuddled, we were, on that day, the best of friends. As close as we ever may be, considering I am the Mum and he is the son. I do realise there will come a time when this bond, so steely and secure, will begin to splinter at the seams. What boy after the age of 6 will let his Mummy smother him with sloppy kisses? What son, after blowing out those 6 candles on his birthday cake, unconsciously launches himself with unconditional love at you, arms flung wide, ready to encircle your neck and engulf you with all the love he has?

On that Tuesday, he was my best little mate, by my side at every turn, and blissfully so. I was his sun, moon and sky, so much so that when it came to me heading off to work come Wednesday morning, he wailed with the indignity of the separation that lay ahead. And I left home with a stomach leaden with guilt and sadness that my absence could have this effect – on both of us!

I know the surly teenager will come, and prior to that (and much closer to now) the terrible two’s that are all but knocking on the door, waiting to be unleased in a torrent of tantrums (a preview last week of what is in store was a tad unsettling, to say the least). But for now I am basking in the memory of Tuesday where I felt as if the world had offered up its most greatest treasure and left it with me for safekeeping. May many more precious days such as that reign down on us, and may each one be cherished as if there were no tomorrow…

Ode to "AT ALL!"

I saw a side of my son last weekend that has previously never shown itself to the light of day. This formerly unseen angle, while admittedly kinda cute at first (in the way only parents can find even the naughtiest of acts endearing when first seen) soon became relentless! Yes, we have heralded in the arrival of the “mine” into Harrison’s vocabulary – and everything is fair game!

Lets call in a preview of what’s to come. “My train” “My Chair”, hell, even “my poo” was announced with a distinct air of proprietary, as if a decree issued from the heavens above. No arguments there honey, except Mummy still has to be the one to change it…. I even caught him admonishing the TV at one stage, while he was finishing his lunch “My Bread” he informed it, in no uncertain terms. And to his delight, it did not argue back.

Who did argue back however, was his big cousin Logan. And this was how the glimpse came to be seen…

Last weekend the Webecks packed up their Central Coast sideshow and went forth to the big smoke of Sydney (we can say that now we don’t officially call the city our home). The Stewarts of course played our most humble hosts and 24 hours later of visiting bliss and the boys (Logan & Harrison) former friendship became seriously fractured.

For the next 48 hours all we would hear it a rhetorical conversation that went along the lines of this:

Harrison (seizing a train in each hand, and clutching them protectively to his chest): would declare “My train. My train!”

Logan (whirling around in disgust and snapping down to be eye level with his wayward cousin) would instantly retort: “No Harrison, that’s not your train AT ALL” and yes, the AT ALL was in capitals and was issued with all the intensity that a parent might admonish a naughty child with. In fact this little saying became the theme to the weekend… And so it continued, just insert car/book/cup etc into the item so desired by Harrison, and so owned by Logan.

So we see their bond has boundaries. And a time frame… 24 hours and all is well – a minute over (or two days over as was the day here) and there will be blood. Whether it be mine or Sheree’s (my fellow referee), who knows. Harrison the provoker has learnt to push his big cousin’s buttons it would seem…

Sheree’s solution to all of this – give him a sibling and he’ll learn to share. My thought though is I’ll give him a brother or sister and he’ll decide he has a legitimate fight on his hands. His turf will be seriously compromised, and, like any territorial creature of comfort, he’ll go on the attack. And I’ll be left wielding the ref’s whistle sun up til sun down! Surely it cant damage his days in adulthood if we leave him be as an only child? Just to save Mummy’s sanity?

Cometh the HairCut, Cometh the (little) Man

Its amazing how a simple thing such as a undergoing your virgin haircut can morph a baby into a boy.

Yes, having our boy Harrison partake in his first trip to hairdresser last week has left me, all of a sudden, with a son I’m struggling to recognise as the baby boy I used to know. He seems to have aged a few years in the 10 minutes it took to trim the wayward wisp strands from his neck and face and I am wondering whether I need to start pricing school uniforms!

Ok, so perhaps that is a little over dramatic. But as a Mum it’s rather startling to see your son suddenly change before your eyes. I thought I was tending to a toddler and feel suddenly that I have a small man on my hands. Ironic that as adults we get haircuts in the hope it will make us look younger, but it has quite the opposite effect in ones so young!

It throws up new questions to me as well about how my boy will be received in public. I’ll admit I have guiltily enjoyed all the praise and adulation heaped on my son from veritable strangers, right from his days as a precious scrumpled newborn babe. “What a cute little baby”, people would coo at me “so gorgeous” and proceed to chat away to the boy who also devoured the extra attention quite voraciously. Cue soppy smiles and glowing eyes all round and I’d hug the knowledge to me tightly that I was a mum to one adorable son.

I sense a change in the air – ill winds blowing our way. What was once considered cute will soon be labelled as naughty and disarming charm is being replaced by infantile disobedience. I heard reproach tinge the voice of an old lady as my “spirited” son refused to get out of the way when she went to open a shop door. And once, as we let Harrison race ahead, I heard a father remark to his son, of roughly the same age: “You know better than to run off like that, don’t you” he reprimanded from afar, criticism lacing his words and leaving me startled that he’d just assumed we had no control over our son.

I guess there must come a time when we shed what were once seen as endearing traits for aggravating ones. I’m just not ready for the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune to reign down publicly on my once revered baby boy!

As this next chapter unfurls at least we can make Harrison secure in the knowledge we will love him, regardless of his often “spirited” nature which at times is beginning to get tricky to manage. And I suppose, if one looks down life’s tunnel to see where the road may take him, I’d choose a livewire son full of enthusiasm and energy over one who sat passively and let everyone else assume control of his life. Buckle up baby, the ride is well and truly about to begin!