Alder's Tone

In the previous post I covered being told what to do by the little fella when it comes to bedtime. This has now extended to bottle times, both his mid-morning and and his supper.

So what do we now have to do?

MOTS had told Weekend Dad last week that there was a new routine developing with the mid-morning bottle, and suggested I observe this last weekend. It was pure genius! There's a detraction from the usual change in attitude when he sees the bottle being made, and a definite understanding of what happens next.

Until recently he has rarely told us he's hungry until he catches sight of his food, beit solids or bottle, and then all hell breaks loose. Which is why on an evening when he's getting ready for bed his supper time bottle gets put behind the curtain out of sight. Unfortunately, when he is ready he goes straight for the curtain, so he knows full well that his bottle is behind the curtain. That was only the start of it...

He takes his bottle sat on either my lap or MOTS' while we're sat on the Poang in his bedroom. I tend to start him off sat on my lap facing me, so his legs are splayed either side of my burgening gut. So when he's ready to be lifted up, the arms are raised, he gets lifted, and his legs part ready to be lowered straight into position.

But the real winner is the mid-morning bottle.

45 seconds in the ding-ding and we're ready to go. And what happens next is absolute routine now. If he's in the kitchen when the bottle goes in the microwave, he'll take a very quick look inside, see his bottle, then charge out of the kitchen. Hang on, that isn't the boy we know, he used to see his food and go wild, right? Sowhere on earth has he gone? From the kitchen, thud thud thud through the hall as he runs off, bang goes the lounge door as it bounces off my plasterboard. And there he is, stood at the chair in the lounge waiting for one of us to sit down so he can climb up, sit, and have his bottle.

Of course the routine is all well and good, but the one-offs are really nice too. Last weekend we were getting ready to go out, myself and MOTS sat together on the foot of the stairs to put our shoes on. The little fella came over, forcing a gap between our legs, and ending up sitting on the step below us. And again the next day, the difference being that MOTS didn't well up as much the second time around.

So easy...

Posted by Lee at 31 January 2008 | Permalink | Comments (0)

The opening of the seven seals.

The apocalypse.

Bedtime.

Probably in the order that most parents want to face these three events with their toddler. And before MOTS starts bleating on, yes I know he's still in the baby room at nursery. Why do I know this? MOTS hasn't been in floods of tears that her baby is all grown up.

So, bedtime. Hell in all it's fury. Right?

We have never made a real effort to restrict his TV time, but it sort of panned out like this: While MOTS was on maternity leave he got no telly time as they were always doing something. It was very rare he saw the box until she went back to work, and then it was mainly Hollyoaks over dinner.

Then I discovered miniminiminiminimoremilkshake on Channel 5 on a morning. 06:25, Thomas & Friends. Fantastic. At first it was more for me than the little fella, but starting 5 minutes before getting up posed a problem. That's why I start recording it, get the lad up, then get back in bed to start watching it just a few minutes later. He'll go between watching the full thing and not really entertaining it. Either way, he'll stop what he's doing and start dancing to "They're two, they're four, they're six, they're eight, Shunting trucks and hauling freight...".

At the other end of the day is Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. Put another way, you have to have taken a serious quantity of hallucinogenic drugs to understand "In the Night Garden...", apparently by the same folk who did Teletubbies.

I had lunch with Mr Gent on Friday, and over a pie and pint we discussed the general merits of the show, and how he'd noticed that when Igglepiggle's blanket was missing "yeah, Makka Pakka's got it..." (well, proven last night, the Pontipines had it). Sad, two grown men discussing Ninky Nonks and it not being some sort of euphemism, nudge nudge, snigger snigger.

Bedtime, tombliboosWhere was this going...? Oh, yes, In The Night Garden... is part of cbeebies' Bedtime Hour, to get them to slow down and relax ready for bed. And it seems to work. Don't ask me how, it just does. And I must admit I'm liking the structure of the show, if not the changing sizes of characters, and I have no idea how the Pinky Ponk gets off the ground. So what happens after it's finished? We go to bed. And he's been quite OK about going upstairs, even heading in that general direction himself.

Tonight took it a bit further. We had a visitor so bedtime was slightly delayed. Only very slightly, but at the end of In the Night Garden... he wandered over to the lounge door, reaching up to the handle and shouting for it to be opened. Then went straight for the stairs, up two, looked round, nobody following, came back to ask to be followed. Why? Because it's bedtime and we weren't taking him.

So not only does he know when bedtime is, he reminds us when we're not ready.

Posted by Lee at 14 January 2008 | Permalink | Comments (1)

MOTS has already told me in no uncertain terms that it's my job when it comes to explaining the birds and the bees. And as he's taken an interest in watching me go to the loo (a possibly early indicator for potty training?) then there's clearly more to be had.

What else could there be? I had one with Snoopy this evening...

Snoopy (AKA Grandad) Skyped me tonight to say thanks for the Christmas photo I sent down that I'd used on the front of his thank-you notes. And we got to talking about the longer days, and how it wouldn't be long before Spring etc.

There was another conversation around his current bedtime routine, of which tonight was a superb example, and how old he was and doing that, the shorter nights and longer days coming, how he's almost 17 moths old, rapidly heading for his 2nd birthday, and how we'd only just thrown out a balloon last week from hist first birthday, whooooooaaaaaaaa, who mentioned his SECOND birthday?

WTF? SECOND birthday? We're only just past his first, aren't we? Well, we're not far off the half way mark between 1 & 2.

I'm going to sue Madonna. The opening line to "Hung Up" is "Time goes by so slowly". This is in clear breach of some misrepresentation act or other, I'll get the lawyers to find out which.

Of all the conversations to have, that was one I didn't want to have. The first mention of his second birthday.

Posted by Lee at 14 January 2008 | Permalink | Comments (0)

It's just over two years now since the little fella first arrived on the scene. MOTS was knocked up just before Christmas 2005, and with a possibility of impending arrival becoming more of a question mark while we had visitors, the test was delayed until after the New Year of 2006 once we were alone again. In that two years there has been a remarkable development, which takes him full circle to exactly where he was then. But now, not then. Oh read on and see what I'm babbling on about.

From this little swimmer...
...to this little swimmer!What has gone full circle I hear you ask? The ability to swim. Way back in December 2005, well I am not explaining the birds and the bees, suffice to say that neither swim particularly very well. Unless the former are ducks, especially when you've got a good loaf en-route to the duck pond. Or swans, they can really steam behind you when you're chugging along the canal at 3 knots on a narrowboat, wondering if it really will get JJ's left ankle (it did).

Ah, the point. Well, he's been going to the swimming pool most Sundays for a while now, and just before Christmas I let him loose with his armbands. MOTS didn't join us, staying in the cafe nursing a poorly head (not alcohol induced, genuinely ill). So with her out of the way we pushed some boundaries. We had a learning experience, let's call it. With armbands on, I let him go off on his own. And he floated. Until he brought his arms together then he sank. Arms out to the side - float. Together - sink. See, it's easy.

Nirvana's album cover doesn't really do him justice, he's been doing the underwater thing for months. But this Sunday just gone (epiphany, if that's of any relevance) we had a major breakthrough. Those boundaries were being tested again, to the same extent. No sinking. Progress. OK, now what? Well, it had to involve an older girl, didn't it? Either that or her ball. With arms straight out to the side for buoyancy, the legs started kicking. Nothing new there, the floating, the kicking. But put a sequence of events together and what do we get? No, not "Final Destination", we get the little guy managing to swim almost the full width of the pool.

In relative terms it's a lot less of a journey than he made a little over two years ago, but I'm ever more proud that he took this lesser journey just recently. Especially as I could do the proud dad bit, watching others watching him go.

Eat your heart out, Duncan Goodwho?.

Posted by Lee at 10 January 2008 | Permalink | Comments (0)

2008!I'm ahead of myself this year, typing this on Boxing Day. Yes, scheduled post again, I won't be awake at midnight...

I am looking back at what life was like a year ago so find it appropriate to schedule this post now for then. Or then for now, whichever way you like to handle post/future tense ramblings.

What a difference we can see when looking back 12 months, something not fully appreciated on a day by day basis. The only constant is change, so long may change stay at a constantly high rate. It's been a brilliant year for watching the wee fella growing up, so I look forward to welcoming the changes that 2008 has to offer. I hope your changes are as adventerous, as enjoyable.

Happy New Year for 2008!

Posted by Lee at 01 January 2008 | Permalink | Comments (0)