I am absolutely desperate for Little Legs to crawl. Yes I know I'll need eyes in the back of my head as well as on both sides and I know she'll run me ragged but I'm still desperate. You see I'm back at work in three weeks time (I have tried to write a post about that a few times now but I just end up in tears) and I just don't want to miss it. I don't know how I'll cope if I do.
She's so close and I think even she can sense it as she's so frustrated with herself. She's up on her knees and rocking, sometimes she manages a little jump forward with both legs like a little frog and she's a whizz at crawling backwards. She just can't get her head around the coordination needed to go forwards.
I'm getting quite obsessed now. At every opportunity I'm encouraging her to get up on her knees. I even get down on all fours next to her showing her what she needs to do but its just not happening. Today my desperation reached a new low and I opened one of her Christmas presents with her. M went mad. Its a little snail which rolls along the floor playing a little tune. If that doesn't get her moving I thought to myself, nothing will. Well it didn't. It just rolled along the floor singing its little ditty and Little Legs didn't even bat an eyelid.
So Little Legs this is my plea to you. Mummy would love to be there when you first crawl sweetheart. I think it will break her heart if she misses it.
Since I was about four months pregnant I have suffered from a well known affliction called "Baby brain". The condition has worsened since Little Legs was born. For the last few weeks I have been praying for a cure due to my impending return to work. In the job I do such a condition could have disastrous results but Friday proved that the symptoms are here to stay.
On Friday I received a phone call from my beautiful niece who had just turned 21. ("You're not old enough to have a 21 year old niece", I hear you cry. I didn't actually hear you cry that but in an ideal world you would be reading this and thinking exactly that). "Thanks for the birthday money" she said. I said "You're welcome hon". She said "Auntie Carrot....?" I said "Yes". She said "Is there any reason why the card was blank?". Doh. I'd dutifully chosen a lovely card, put a bit of dosh in, sealed the card and lovingly addressed the envelope, completely forgetting to write in the card at all. The only reason she knew it was from me was because she recognised the writing on the envelope.
Later that day I went to visit my friend. Autoglass turned up to fix a chip in her windscreen and the guy knocked at the door to ask if I could reverse my car slightly so he could park his van. He was quite cute so not sure if that caused the distraction but do you know what I did? I unlocked the car, got into the passenger side and just sat there. The guy just looked at me and held his hands up in a bit of a "What are you doing you freak gesture". I didn't even have the wherewithal to try and cover for my mistake by pretending to get something out of the glove compartment or pick something off the floor for gods sake. I got out of the car, beetroot colour and scuttled round to the drivers side mortified as he stood there chuckling. I returned to the house deciding not to mention it to my friend. In my view what happens with the Autoglass man should stay with the Autoglass man. He on the other hand had other ideas. He promptly knocked on the door and said to my friend "You'll never guess what she just did..". I mean come on, it wasn't that big a deal. Weird maybe but not a big deal.
Since I decided to write this post and shed some light on the baby brain phenomenon I have been trying to rack my brain and remember what the third thing was. I can't.
....A cot activity centre. Completely ridiculous invention and here's why.
Little Legs has been more or less sleeping through the night since she was about 12 weeks old. Chances are she may have woke up during the night but she always managed to settle herself back to sleep quietly. NOT ANY MORE!
M came home the other day with a cot activity centre. From now on I'll call it CAC(appropriately). He'd been given it by a friend and didn't like to say no. It looks lovely, little piano keys which play nursery rhymes, a little bell which sounds like a door bell when you press it and little animals hidden behind little doors which you can open. There's also a huge sun with a big orange button in the middle. When you press it it sends these little balls clacking against each other and starts another tune. You get the picture.
The first night with the CAC went something like this:
0243 hours - door bell chimes. Not the house one, the one belonging to CAC.
0448 hours - London's burning followed by Row Row Row your boat followed by Oranges and Lemons, half of London's Burning again, bit more of Row Row Row your boat, London's burning again, Oranges and Lemons again and lets finish off with another huge dose of London's burning.
0510 hours - Clack Clack and another annoying tune
0510 hours and 30 seconds - M turns CAC off
0600 hours - Curiosity gets the better of Little Legs and she decides to peep behind each of the doors hiding the little animals with a little clack of the door each time. After having a quick peep at all four of them she couldn't quite remember which animal was behind which door so she had another look. Four more clacks.
Now I have a moral dilemma. Is it wrong to remove a toy from a seven month old baby? I can't help thinking that a melted down CAC would make a great Wordless Wednesday photo.
We put the Christmas decorations up yesterday and whilst we were decking the halls with boughs of holly, faa laa laa laa laa laa laa laa laa I remembered some Christmas's past which I bravely thought I would share. We're going away for a couple of days this weekend so won't be back in Blogland until Monday. I hope I still have some readers by then.
1) I discovered that Santa Claus didn't exist when I was about 9 years old. I was sleeping peacefully in my bed when I heard an almighty racket. Super excited I jumped out of bed and ran to the landing, desperate for a glimpse of Santa. I saw my Mum spreadeagled on the stairs, Santa hat askew with a pillow case full of presents splaying out behind her. "Bollocks, sorry kids" she said. "Too much wine". Thanks ma.
2) School Christmas assembly circa late eighties. I decided to sing "Little Donkey" to the tune of Bananarama's "Love in the first degree". I was promptly removed from assembly by Mrs O, pulling me by the ear.
3) Waking up one Christmas morning to find I was the proud owner of a gorgeous new jogging suit. Mint green colour complete with penguin motifs. Loved it. Loved it so much that in my excitement I peed in it. This wasn't last year, despite what you're thinking.
4)My elder sister is a total pig when it comes to chocolate. When we were little she could demolish three selection boxes before Christmas dinner. This particular year she decided that hers didn't provide nearly enough nourishment so she stole mine too. She tried to tell me that our fat golden retriever had eaten it. The only flaw in her plan was the fact that all the wrappers had been neatly opened, chocolate removed and the wrappers left in the box. The dog was clever, but not quite that clever.
5)Last but not least and my favourite of all. This time last year, sitting with my hands resting on my almost six month bump imagining our first Christmas with our beautiful baby girl as she wriggled around inside me.
Has something ever happened in your life which made you stop and think? Made you promise to yourself that you would never again take anything for granted?
It happened to me back in 2005. My heart got broken you see and the only way I could help it to heal was to take some time out and get to know me again. I needed a challenge, I needed to regain my self confidence and I needed to believe in happiness again. So I took a sabbatical from work and took myself off around the world. The first stop was Nepal and to be honest, from there I didn't need to travel anymore, I found everything I was looking for in an orphanage full of the most amazing children I have ever met.
The children had nothing to call their own other than the clothes on their backs but they still greeted me every morning with a huge smile ready to face the day. They had no toys, no games, no books, none of life's little luxuries. I remember that they were all fascinated by my CD Walkman, squabbling over who would listen to it first. They'd never seen anything like it before. To me it was just something to ease the boredom during long journeys.
Perhaps the most humbling moment for me though was when Gita a beautiful little girl found a small packet of biscuits on the way home from school. Most children I know would have wolfed them down, perhaps not giving a second thought to sharing them. Not Gita. There were 15 children in that orphanage and I watched in amazement as she divided the biscuits equally between all of them giving herself just crumbs and making sure the younger children got enough. My heart went out to each and every one of them that day, and although in theory I was there to teach them, I don't think they realised how much they taught me.
When I left I cried but I made a promise to myself that I would never ever take anything for granted again. It surprises me now when I look back how quickly something which had been so life changing began to slip to the back of my mind. The promises I had made were quickly forgotten as I settled back into the daily grind. Just now I was on the Internet, looking for even more presents to buy for Little Legs. Then I took a moment to think. I shut down the shopping pages and began writing this post. This post is part of that moment and I'll read it every time I need reminding of what life is really about.
I'm a first time Mum to beautiful baby Little legs who is now almost 6 months old. I hate to take life too seriously but being a Mum has turned me into a serious worrier. This blog gives me a chance to give some air space to my calamities and anxieties which if nothing else will make you feel happy in the knowledge that you're not as daft as me.