Mummy's Birthday

"Where is the ball? No-one knows."

This weekend was Hanna's birthday. It was quite a time.

I met Hanna and Arya and Hanna's parents in town for a cuppa, then we bought some icing in town and headed home. Traffic was as much fun as usual on a Friday afternoon, and while we got in and ate in reasonable time, what with one thing and another I didn't get Arya into bed until quite late, and sadly we had to get up earlyish for ballet and Tumble Tots. Arya was firmly in 'no ballet, no bun' mode, and I had to walk her in, but she didn't insist I stay with her, which is progress for the first week after a lesson where we get to sit in.

Tumble Tots went swimmingly, and after that we came home and I took Arya to the library while Hanna and Andrew began rearranging the furniture for company. The rest of the day was a long-form party, with breads and fillings for all, and cake towards dinner time. Arya helped Mummy to make a spaceship (LEGO Poe Dameron's X-Wing,) by which I mean she mostly played with the ground support trolley and the BB-8 minifigure. For variety and nutrition, she got beans and sausages on toast and some frozen sweetcorn, because she'd been really good during the day, sitting in with us despite her shyness. I put her to bed about half eight and she went out quite quickly, but I had to swap with Andrew at around 3am. Arya was quite clingy and reluctant to go back to sleep, but dropped off eventually.

In the morning, I awoke from a dream in which a crocodile was trying to savage my shoulder to find Arya was kicking me there. I turned her around, which unfortunately woke her up, but it was half-eight by then, so that seemed fair enough. She was still very tired, and she knew it, but we got up and she had some cereal, then we all – Arya, Mummy and Daddies, and one of the guests who had stayed the night – had scrambled eggs for breakfast. The rest of the day was quiet, but we played some catch with her squishy ball and watched Kubo and the Two Strings, of which she retained a ludicrously precise memory despite going through most of the film clinging to Mummy and asking to be taken home. I stand by my belief that the whole wanting to go home thing is an indicator that she is really taking a film in, and is almost invariably followed by asking to see it again and a near-photographic recollection of the film. In this case, she knew from the off that she didn't want to watch the two Sisters again, but also knew exactly when they were due to show up (and managed to watch a lot of their scenes.)

'Helping' with the LEGO.

What with tidying up after the party and recovering from a late and disturbed night, I made dinner quite late, and it was a struggle to get Arya to eat it. She wanted beans on toast and frozen sweetcorn(1) again, but I was already making chicken stew. She fussed about the onions, but eventually she ate what we'd asked her to, so she got a small bowl of sweetcorn and cake for afters. On the upside, beans and toast and frozen sweetcorn is probably better than pizza.

After dinner we got the house straight and Arya ready for bed, which took some doing. As often is the case, she was very reluctant to leave, and for that if nothing else I am very glad that she and Hanna will be moving in soon. I realise that she'll start kicking off and demanding Daddy Andrew all week, but c'est la vie. Once she was ready, it was into the car, hugs and kisses and away to Ipswich.

And next weekend is Arya's birthday.

(1) Not cooked from frozen, you understand; still frozen.

Poor Mite

Bat-Arya!

I feel like I'm saying this a lot, but it's been another tough weekend.

Saturday was actually pretty good. We had ballet and gave out invitations to Arya's birthday party (although we've since had some problems booking a table at the soft play place,) and Arya even let me put her hair into a bun without making a colossal fuss. She wore her Happy Meal Batgirl mask around the supermarket, which was super adorable, and went into Tumble Tots all on her own once again.

We had a quiet afternoon, including a little baking of cupcakes, but despite a pretty good night's sleep after a late night on Friday, Arya got very antsy towards the end of the day and had a fight with Daddy Andrew at bedtime. Andrew does have a habit of picking the wrong fights, especially at bedtime. I persuaded her to say sorry for shouting at him, but she was adamant that he needed to apologise to her as well. I... legitimately don't know how I feel about this. I don't want her to have favourites among us, but she is starting to recognise when she's in the wrong and I'm glad that she sticks up for herself if she thinks that she has been wronged(1).

Anyway, we got her off to sleep, but then she woke up around midnight and wanted to come in with me. Hanna went out to the sofa, and then at about one Arya woke up and threw up. Poor mite; I think it came as a shock to her, since this was her first real grown up vomit, so that's a red letter day. I carried her out and we met Mummy in the kitchen, fetching her some medicine having heard her crying and as she had been a little feverish earlier on. Hanna took Arya and got her cleaned up, while I cleaned the bed as best I could. Andrew got Arya clean pyjamas and some water, and we sat with her a while, watching Pajanimals while her nerve settled. She asked me for milk, but I suggested more water, and I explained that her stomach was still owy from trying to get rid of a bug. I read to her a bit, as she couldn't settle.

Blanket fort.

This was interrupted when Arya thought that she was going to be sick again, so we went into the bathroom. She was very worried about getting vomit in the toilet (fortunately, she didn't throw up again,) and noted apologetically that 'I didn't want to get a bug in my tummy.' Mummy heard us and came through to Arya's room with us, and Arya finally drifted off cuddling Mummy. We slept latish (apart from Mummy, sad to say, who ended up more blitzed than the rest of us,) and had a long, slow morning with lots of pancakes and strawberries(2).

In the afternoon, Arya found a bag of clothes pegs and asked to make a blanket fort. Hanna was sleeping and had a lot of the blankets in with her, but we did our best. I'm not going to say we created a landmark in soft-furnishing architecture, but it worked. I was impressed that Arya didn't want to disturb Mummy to get some toys, although she was then in and out getting clothes to change into. Still, it's progress of a kind.

As much as it's annoying if I'm trying to
read to her, it is adorable.

She was still a bit feverish, and her mood was up and down. We got to about dinner time and she started running up and down the passage. I offered to read her a book and she chose Noggin the Nog and the Flowers(3), but decided she was going to interrupt me over and over again by brushing her hair and saying 'no, no, no... perfect!' I put the book down and she got very upset, then when she wouldn't talk to me I read my own book in the hope that she would talk to me. Instead she went to Mummy, who was making lasagne in the kitchen, and said that I wouldn't talk to her, which... I guess at least she was talking to someone.

After dinner, I struggled a bit getting her ready, because she didn't want to leave. We're just a few weeks from moving in together, at least the three of us, but it's getting more and more traumatic to separate. I should probably treasure the attention before we get to the stage where she's kicking off at me because she wants Daddy Andrew to come home from Ipswich, but it's tough sometimes. It's tough every time.

(1) Rightly or wrongly.
(2) Hurrah for pancakes!
(3) The Saga of Noggin the Nog - and especially Noggin and the Flowers - was a favourite growing up, and I read most of the series to Hanna back when she was pregnant, so technically Arya has heard them before.

Horror of the Sleepus

Adorbs.

Hanna dropped Arya off on Friday night, but had to go home to Ipswich after dinner in order to work a long day on Saturday. Arya took a little while to get settled, as a result, but we got up on Saturday morning and made it to the bus stop fed and on time.

And lacking detangling spray, which was a problem as Arya was distinctly tangled.

So, as we had about half an hour, we went looking for detangler, and found none, at which point Arya refused to go into ballet and demanded to go home. A mix of begged, cajoling and bluster got us in the door, whereon she went back and forth looking for some perfect place to change, before I finally threw her into her ballet gear, pinned up the mare's nest of her hair at the back and sent her in. I worry that people might think I'm a bad dad for not getting her hair in a bun, but I realised this weekend that that's not hers to carry.

From there we went to Tumble Tots, which went just fine, and then home. We planned to get the train from Ely, but got stuck in a huge line of rubberneckers on the bus and missed it, so we had to shop and then wait for half an hour. Arya was, in all fairness, pretty amazing about that. She also knows to keep away from the platform edge, even if she does keep haring of out of sight down the subway tunnel between platforms. Even there, when I explained that I would be scared if I couldn't see her, she started stopping and waiting for me to catch up. We got home and had beans and sausages on toast for lunch, because we'd been out for ages and it was cold and there were wolves after us.

After lunch, we watched some TV and then I made dinner. It really wasn't that long, although I may have fallen asleep a little in the middle. I got Arya into bed and asleep by half eight, despite the fact that she decided she wanted to go home to Daddy Andrew's house. Then she woke up at half past six and got all fidgety, so I had to wake up, and then I needed the toilet. She clung to me and howled, then wanted to come with me, and when I asked her to leave the light off so I would have some chance of getting back to sleep, put the light on. My darling daughter.

Total commitment to making Everest yip.

We got up a little later and I told her she should wake up Mummy, who was sleeping in the sitting room as Arya was in our bed. She went through, found that Mummy wasn't asleep, came back out shouting "Daddy Luke, Mummy's awake!" I asked if she wanted to say good morning to Mummy and she look ed as if this was a great and unprecedented concept, ran back in and climbed up to give Mummy a cuddle.

We had pancakes, did a quick shop and came home, and that was about all she wrote. Arya climbed on the sofa despite being told not to and insisted that she wasn't in trouble, so we had to take away some of her toys. She got her PAW Patrol pups back when she apologised, and in her favour she did then play with them for a while, including showing me that Everest has a speech box in her foot that makes her bark, although she was a little startled that Chase doesn't, as she was sure she saw the lady put one in at Build-a-Bear.

We had a roast dinner that ended up being huge, and Arya positively gobbled up her Yorkshire pudding after checking 'is this gluten free?' Then she had a bath and I washed her hair, which was a bit of a struggle, but nothing like it used to be. She was asleep by ten past eight, although she did wake at three and want to know if it was wakey time and whether she could have some cereal. I said no, it was sleepy time, and got her some milk. She went to sleep after about an hour, although I dreamed that she continued to fuss and fidget for another half hour, then proceeded to fade in and out of sleep, with her apparently awake in my dreams yet asleep when I was awake, and out of reach because I was either experiencing my first ever full-on waking sleep paralysis, or dreaming that I was in between the two extremes.

Because of this wakeful period, we let her lie in until it was time to get in the car and go back to Ispwich. I said goodbye at the station and Arya asked: "Where are your glasses?" The answer was 'on the bedside table,' so go me.

The Wild-Haired Dancer

Flump.

It's been a tough weekend this one. We had all three parents around, but Arya was determined that she wanted to sleep in with Mummy and Daddy Luke. This meant that, twice, I was woken up at four-thirty in the morning by Andrew bringing Arya through from her room. If she'd gone straight back to sleep, this would have been fine, but the truth is that there isn't the space in the bed anymore. She tries, bless her, but what usually happens is that I get forced to the edge of the bed, then she squiggles anyway and wakes Hanna, and then we're all getting pushed back and forth and no-one is getting sleep. We've reached a stage where Arya actually knows that she's tired, but I haven't yet convinced her that not trying to fit in with us is the answer.

Anyway, we dragged our carcasses out of bed on Saturday and, true to predictions, despite the fact that Hanna was here to drive we still ended up rushing to ballet. Andrew and I dashed in with her and got her changed, but feeling more pressure than there was, I sent her in with her hair loose, having shaken loosen from the bun I'd tied it in earlier (which was a thing of beauty, I tell you.) We had a nice chat with the other parents, commiserating with the mum from Virginia over her newly inaugurated President, until Arya came out, looking as if she'd had a great time. Obviously, this was a great advance on last week, so we paid for the half-term.

Easy rider.

After ballet Arya got a ride on the teacups, then we went shopping. We went to Sainsbury's particularly to get some more chocolate cereal for Arya, but they were out. Instead we picked up not-specifically-gluten-free Moana branded cereal, because Arya does love her some Disney(1). Then we headed to Tumble Tots, where she went in without a fuss but refused the yellow t-shirt; she said it was because it wasn't pink, and we think she may be reacting to being told she has to wear dark blue for school.

After that... Well, I'm going to be honest here. After that, we went home and crashed hard. We did take Arya out on her bike for a bit, and Hanna and Arya made some cookies before Hanna went out for the evening, but mostly we watched My Little Pony and mellowed out. It wasn't the best of times, but it was very nice having her snuggle up next to me on the sofa. Too much TV watching is bad, but I do wonder if we undervalue a little bit of quiet time.

On Sunday I was good for almost nothing, and probably a little better off than Hanna. Andrew was a trouper and put together a grand lunch, while Arya and I crashed on the sofa and Hanna passed out again in bed. We watched TV, ate chicken and then they went off home by way of the supermarket. Arya opted to go with them instead of waiting for me while they shopped, but I consider this a plus. I can't deny that it's flattering when she wants to stay with me, but I'd rather she was happy with any of us. Anyway, they're back this evening (Monday) for Arya's school taster day tomorrow, so expect another midweek Ersatz.

(1) Sadly, this seems to include The Little Mermaid, complete with its not-so-scary bad lessons.

On the Buses

While you're awwing, I would invite you to note that her feet are all over my
side of the bed.

Hanna was working this weekend, and when not working was on call in case a delivery became available. It did, she got it, and this is awesome, but it did mean we had to face the dreaded bus weekend.

Andrew brought Arya up on the train and I decanted her from the pushchair to my bed, figuring we'd go with that again as it meant Andrew could sleep in her room and we should all get a decent night's sleep.

I reckoned without the Coriolis effect, which as we all know causes children in the southern hemisphere to rotate clockwise while they sleep, and children in the northern hemisphere to rotate anticlockwise. It's a purely natural phenomenon, which is small comfort when you wake at three in the morning with your daughter slumbering peacefully with her toes wedged underneath you and forcing your spine to contort awkwardly. Still, I managed to get up in good time, and wake Arya up for actual breakfast. Then things got a little slower because Arya wanted to help with everything, but we made the bus (by the skin of our teeth) and got into ballet. There, Arya was skittish, apparently because she needed the toilet but didn't want to say, and once I'd got her changed and wanted to do her hair, she decided that she didn't want to do ballet, now or ever, although no we couldn't give the uniform to someone else.

In the end, I had to take her in and stay for half the lesson before being able to slip out, and she still came to the door to check I was right outside. Afterwards, she insisted on a proper change before leaving, but she was good about it and we managed to catch the bus to Soham handily. Unfortunately, not being able to leave the studio during the lesson meant that I hadn't got anything for snacks, so Andrew had to go up the road and find the only shop in Soham to buy what he could - Dairylea Dunkers, Quavers(1) and ham, plus a bottle of Ribena - so that Arya could eat and drink. Arya was somewhat distraught that the drinking fountain at the school was out of order, but went in to Tumble Tots like an absolute champ and asked for the toilet when she came out.

Basically, the thing about Saturday was that she was tired; she hadn't got to sleep until well past nine and then we woke her at about seven. This meant that she had little to work with between 'manic energy' and 'everything is terrible'. Bedtime was thus a hoot. She ate her mostly homemade(2) chicken korma beautifully, but then she began refusing to do her bedtime routine right up to the point that we had both told her that she was out of chances and she was going to sleep in her bed on her own. Cue tears, and... I feel kind of bad, because I know what was going on. She wasn't mucking about to be naughty, but because finishing up her prep meant going to bed and not being with Daddy and Daddy anymore. She wanted us to chase her; she wanted us to pay attention to her. We wanted her to go to bed and not be so tired in the morning; seriously, the difference after a couple of decent nights last week was astonishing.

"No selfies!"

Eventually we got her into bed. She struggled with sleep and eventually lost, but it was not an easy night, and when I went to bed she once more swung her feet over. I tried to move her and she half-woke to complain 'but I'm cosy'. I did what I could with the feet and mostly slept okay, but was only partly successful in letting her lie in as she woke to a leaky nappy, poor mite.

There ensued a grand old time as we tried to focus her on any one thing and she bounced around:

"I'm wet!"
"Well, let's get your shorts and nappy off and get you dressed, then..."
"Wait(3)! My morning vitamin!"
"How about we get you dressed first, or at least out of..."
"No, my morning vitamin!"

After we'd got her out of the nappy, then given her a vitamin, then got her dressed, then weathered a storm of tears, established that she was upset because Daddy Andrew had put her into the wrong pair of knickers (she'd handed him two from the box without further explanation,) persuaded her that asking properly would be better than wailing, changed her knickers because she'd asked nicely, then got her dressed again, it was time for bed.

Breakfast! I mean it was time for breakfast. It just felt like it was time for bed(4).

Sunday was an unashamedly lazy day. We sat out, played some Where's My Water? and watched My Little Pony. We had a big, latish lunch of pasta and cheese - over which we discussed the possibility of Arya making conversation as an attention getter, rather than rubbing cheese sauce on her clothes -and I saw them off at about half three with a care package of apples and rice cakes and Ribena, because I didn't want them to be travelling after it got seriously dark and cold. Arya tried to delay and ended up in tears. I wanted to cuddle her forever, and instead had to agree to look after her sticker book for her, promise to see her soon (she and Hanna will be over tonight for a school thing,) and slip Andrew the last of the jelly babies of courage.

Some time later, Hanna dropped me a line to ask me to give Andrew something to bring home and I realised that the plan had been to send them back after dinner to meet Hanna at the station.

(1) Not gluten free.
(2) Sauce was from a jar.
(3) "Wait" is one of her phrases of the moment. Another is "what in tarnation." Thanks for that one, My Little Pony.
(4) As a rule of thumb, the number of photos of Arya I manage to take is inversely proportional to how tired I am.