So, we had a bit of an adventure this weekend. Friday was pretty standard: Arrive, cuddles, dinner (pasta cheese,) bed, 'I can't sleep,' 'lie down and close your eyes,' 'seriously, eyes closed, sweetie,' sleep. On Saturday we were back to the run of ballet, shopping and Tumble Tots, with a side trip to pick up warm clothes for Arya. She requested Batman gloves and a Elsa hat, but needs must and we ended up with My Little Pony gloves and hat and a big, pink scarf. We also ended up running a little late (my bad, I just had to put the shopping cart away and throw the rubbish,) but it all worked out in the end.
Also, free magazine from Tumble Tots, which always triggers a welter of guilt. This term: Why giving children milk at bedtime makes you a horrible monster!
We went home and had lunch, then very shortly after we were onto pizzas for dinner. Arya helped me with the toppings, and I hadn't the heart to gainsay her. See, I'd had to go across the road for mozzarella. I asked Arya if she wanted to come with me, but explained that we'd have to go straight away, not when her episode of PAW Patrol finished. She decided that she wanted to finish her episode, so I nipped out and back, at which point she put on her flipflops and asked if they were okay for going out in.
The first couple of bangs spooked Arya a little.
I am a monster.
The reason for the early dinner was that we'd decided to take Arya to the fireworks in Cambridge. Well, actually we decided to take her to the fireworks in Ely, but there weren't any and we'd already made the offer to her. We left much later than planned, but still got there in time.
Actually, it was pretty great timing in the end. We got a decent spot and didn't have time to be distracted by the funfair rides. We did get Arya a flashing wand, and although they were out of the butterfly ones that she really fancied she was pretty taken with the star in the end. The first few bangs were a shock, but it was a good display and she was soon swept up in the excitement. She was also utterly adorable bundled up in her hat and scarf, and we even managed not to lose a glove or an Everest.
Oh, yeah; her gran bought her an Everest (from PAW Patrol) plushie, which is just the best thing ever in Arya's eyes. Granny Scott has completely won at presents.
Heading back, we spent forty-five minutes or so getting out of the car park, then Arya went to sleep in the car. It was quite late, so I'm glad to say that she slept in a bit. I was up and about when she emerged from her room.
Polystyrene packing = rescue ladder for Everest.
We went out for a last bit of shopping, but spent most of the day getting some rest. As we discussed:
Arya: I'm a little bit tired. Me: We're going to have a quiet day today because we're all a little bit tired. It was a long day yesterday and a late night. Arya: (with absolute gravity) Yep.
Hanna sat to watch Beauty & the Beast with Arya, but Arya got a little spooked and asked to go home to Ipswich, which seemed an extreme way of asking for the film to be changed. As Hanna was flagging, she went for a nap and Arya had a bounce around.
"This isn't my house! I need a better house."
Then I unboxed my new computer with a little help from Arya, and this proved to be a grand plan.She set the packing up as a ladder. I pointed out that she'd be too big, so she declared 'Everest could climb it!' And so she did. Then she decided to climb inside and decorate the box itself, drawing on the insides of the box with her crayons and asking for tickets to enter it (I provided an old season ticket for the purpose.)
To round out the day, she decided that the computer itself was a fine thing, so she sat and did some drawing using Paint. Once she got the hang of the controls, she really went to town, and I'm pretty sure she freehanded the complete London Underground map. After dinner, she decided that she wanted to go back to Ipswich straight away, which made me a little sad - I quite liked putting her to bed first last week - but given how sleepy Hanna was, it was probably better they get away quickly.
As I put her in the car, she asked to stay with me, but I know she also likes to get back to Daddy Andrew. Hopefully it won't be too long before we can get a place for all of us.
It's time for the traditional post-Christmas Christmas post**, as Arya returns to nursery to see Cory and Zachary and Morgan and Sophie and I return to work.
The family arrived on Christmas Eve and we put out milk, whisky and a mince pie for Santa and a carrot for the reindeer, which I can confirm were most definitely consumed before the next morning. Arya explained that she was happy in knickers, but definitely not wearing pants. Zachary has Gruffalo pants, which are hilarious, in a way that she assured us Gruffalo knickers would not be. While I was putting her to bed, her new bike and trampoline mysteriously appeared in the living room. The bike is a simple push bike with a wooden frame that can actually be easily converted into a scooter. The trampoline is a hellish, neon-bright noisemaker - a sort of Bounce! Bounce! Revolution - or would be if we had any intention of putting a battery in its vicinity for a year and a half. For now, it's a thing she bounces on. so yay!
We turned in, anticipating an early start, but actually slept in pretty much until eight. I was, however, feeling rough enough that I called Mum and Dad and cancelled visiting them, instead opting for a home Christmas with the emergency Christmas dinner we'd laid in. we got set up and brought Arya in to see her presents, and she... Well, she kind of hid from them at first:
(I hope that video works, since it turns her intense Christmas nerves into part of a video of delight with a whimsical soundtrack. Blogger seems oddly crap at adding content from Google Photos, however.)
She liked the bike, although it got a bit Omen.
She soon got into the process, however, which was good, because she had pretty much as many gifts as the rest of us combined. We'd tried to be good, but she hasn't been able to see her grandparents in Leeds so much since they've been looking after Hanna's Gran and they may have overcompensated a little, and Hanna's growly, grouchy 'I don't like kids' seems to have found his inner uncle, sending her a zombear and a Stormfly from Build-a-Bear and a kit Gruffalo he made himself.
Hanna cooked an excellent emergency Christmas dinner, and Arya made a grand fist of it. She wasn't always so on top of her eating, demanding pizza for breakfast and cupcakes at all hours.
The highlight of the day was of course the premiere of Stick Man, the latest from the makers of The Gruffalo et al, a delightful and Christmassy tale of horror, misery and persecution; like 12 Years a Slave meets Misery with an animated stick. We watched poor Stick Man being chewed, bashed, gruesomely tortured by swans and almost burned alive, although it was the arrival of Santa to take him home that really reduced Arya to a howling wreck... each of the dozen times she insisted we watch it.
It was not a perfect Christmas. Despite massive progress on her toilet training, Arya had a few accidents, especially when she was tired. There was also her habit of shutting us out of the bathroom, insisting that 'this is my house' and that she was going to get her friends. This was compounded when she seemed to get tired of doing the whole toilet thing and for a couple of days just didn't bother. She was also a bit mean to Daddy Andrew, telling him that she doesn't like him (although she does love him.)
Bad weather also left us all with a touch of cabin fever, although it did mean it was especially nice when we were able to get outside, for example on Boxing Day (see below, again if the vid is working.)
I can't help being delighted to see how confident she is with the play equipment these days.
'I look after it for you.'
While we often got to sleep in until 8 or even 9 o'clock, in part this was because Arya was waking up at 4 every morning to use the toilet and insisting on going into our bed to sleep. We wondered if it would help to cut back on milk, and it seemed to work, but not entirely. I wondered if she might be cold, but getting her to lie under the covers was a disaster as she couldn't get comfortable. We also had a bizarre experience when she wouldn't sleep and asked me to call Mummy on my phone, even after I explained that my phone was in the living room... as was Mummy. We did have a goodnight call when Mummy was out for the night, and Arya even seemed to work out eventually that tapping the screen led to Mummy being cut off.
Hanna got a new heat beanie. She was going to get a dinosaur, but Arya insisted on the unicorn (it's SO FLUFFY) and was then very solicitous about looking after it for Mummy: making sure it didn't get lost, keeping it clean, taking it to bed with her... Truth to tell, however, she was actually very good at surrendering Anders when asked, and overall has become much less prone to claiming ownership of things that aren't hers.
Next stop: Eldritch Horror
Something new this year: Board games! She got three of the things for Christmas - Go, Go Dragons, a simple racing game, and the literary themed We're Going on a Bear Hunt and Room on the Broom - and we played all of them at least once. Arya was imperfect at the rules (she was very keen to roll the dice, less so to identify the number on them or to accurately move her pieces,) but her sportsmanship is impeccable. When I didn't get the card I needed to beat her at Room on the Broom, she went through the deck and found it for me.
Picnic!
Granny and Grandad (my folks) visited on the 27th and were quite charmed by Arya.
We had a couple of days between Christmas and New Year when Daddy Andrew was in Ipswich with Sam, during which we had two outings: One to Milton Country Park and the other to Treetops soft play. Arya was very taken by our picnic at Milton, and the chance to ride her bike out doors. Treetops meanwhile really showed up how much confidence she's gained through time and Tumble Tots. She's so big and brave and quick, running rings around Mummy and Daddy and riding the big slide all on her own. In particular, she swarms up the cargo nets like a tiny, adorable sailor. Despite this, and in part thanks to my efforts, she did lose pathetically at foosball to a girl named Aria.
I told her it was a changing mat; she heard 'treasure map'.
When the time came to go home, Hanna told her 'one more slide'; those fateful words. Arya went to the small tube slide and Hanna went to wait at the bottom, at which point Arya doubled back out of the slide, cut straight across the middle of the set-up, then shot up the stairs to the top level and the big slide. Mummy, meanwhile, was still waiting at the bottom.
Most impressively, on neither of these outings did Arya have any accidents. She's actually really good out of the house; it's just at home she's a bit reticent.
Given that she's been at home for almost two weeks, she's been amazingly well behaved. I'm so impressed, so very proud of how far she's come. This past year I've watched her grow into a strong, independent and forceful personality and I could not be more pleased if she were always obedient and well-behaved. What is it that they say? Well-behaved girls never change history? Well, if the opposite hold true, my little one is set to make some waves.
* I keep using this word. You do not think it means what I think it means, but I figure if I keep doing it, eventually it will mean whatever the hell I want it to. If Merriam-Webster want to say that 'literally' means 'figuratively' then they can eat my white-hot redefining rage! I AM A VALID INTERNET SOURCE! **Oh yeah; starting strong this year!
Poor Arya has been running a bit of a temperature this weekend. It's probably just a teething thing, but that doesn't make its outward manifestations any less terrifying. She would drop to a normal baby temperature through the day, and then spike to almost 40 degrees (centigrade, for any Americans worried she was in danger of flash-freezing) at night. This meant that she didn't sleep through, and nor did we.
On Friday night she... um... You know what, I actually can't remember most of the details of Friday night. Erm... Right, okay; I took her to bed and she struggled. She wanted more milk. She wanted Pajanimals (we'd skipped her usual watch, so I obliged in case routine would help) and then she stood at the bedroom door, pointing at the handle and saying: "Door. Mummy." for half an hour until I took her to Mummy who cuddled her to sleep (taking another I actually don't know how long.)
We mostly crashed after that.
On Saturday we... um... I think we went somewhere and shopped. Possibly somewhere exciting like the big Co-op half a mile away. I dunno; we were very tired; it was an adventure*. In the afternoon I took Arya to Ely on the train so that she could nap. Getting her to sleep in the evening was once more exciting, as she basically howled as soon as I got her into the nursery, then passed out once mummy came in.
Hannah speculates that this is in part because Arya woke up on Friday when she was out of bed and was thus worried about mummy vanishing. The fever and teething pain can't help.
We went to bed early, too tired to focus on G.I. Joe: Retaliation.
On Sunday we came into town early. We had brunch, or rather I ate half a brunch while Hannah tried to get Arya to eat something, then Hannah ate her omelette while I chased Arya around Tatties, and finally I wolfed down the last of my cold bacon and eggs while Hannah got Arya back into the pushchair.
Nap time was defeated by high winds and Arya began to freak out when I tried to seal her in the clear plastic cocoon of hell close the rain cover. As a result she was lively around game, but once more our fellow players were troupers of the first water, designating a contiguous OOC area (one without stairs, for the safety of an exhausted baby and parents) and basically running the combat as ambulatory tabletop. Eventually we left because she was exhausted and suddenly distraught, but it was otherwise a good time for all of us.
We opted for a takeaway dinner and she laid into her Korma with a gusto she hadn't shown all weekend.
On Sunday night, Arya was - thankfully - much more at easy. We had a little fuss at bedtime. Actually, I think I got her hand caught under my elbow as we arranged ourselves for sleep, but after a few tense minutes where I considered calling Hannah in and running off to commit ritual suicide, or contemplated elaborate fantasies of future guilt ('Oh father! I know I could make first violin if only my fingers were a little stronger. Perhaps I should drink to forget, like you do.') she curled up against me and went to sleep.
She woke up to that 40 degree spike. 111 were useless ("meh; she's probably teething.") but she cooled down with a little ibuprofen** and headed back to Martlesham with Mummy.
* The CBeebies panto this year was Peter Pan, and features the Darlings singing a song about their children going on 'an awfully big adventure'. I find this a touch morbid given Pan's thoughts on awfully big adventures. ** She got better at taking her medicine over the weekend as well, which was nice for us since otherwise the only thing we can do to bring her fever down feels like cruel and unusual parenting.
It's the last night in the old flat, and we've been sleeping in the living room for for fear of the dreaded mould. This, tummy trouble, a virus and teething have left Arya out of sorts.
At about four in the morning she woke us for the third time - well second if, like me, you hadn't gone back to sleep yet - and was more out less inconsolable. Mummy suggested her teething star, which Andrew fetched, but no joy there.
In an attempt to encourage her, I put the star in my own mouth and mimed gumming it. Arya seemed enthralled. She reached out and I held out the star, but she pulled back. I leaned forward with the star in my mouth and she took it, then poked it back at my mouth. Sideways, but points for trying.
This new game enthralled her for almost half an hour, in which time the teething star went from refrigerated to warn without one passing her lips.
The day after Hannah and Arya leave, I always have trouble sleeping. I don't know if it's the absence of them next to me or the fact that I can't hear them breathing, but it gets me every time.
Utterly tuckered out from a day of squalling, my little Grizzle-Biscuit finally falls quiet. She looks to be heading into a growth spurt, which means that more than usual her young life is about eating, filling nappies and screaming. It is, no fooling, a real grind, and of course much more so on her mother than on me.
What this means is coping with the hardest lesson of parenthood - the hard truth that sometimes you can not cope and that this is okay. It certainly feels like failure, but really it's about your limits as a human being, which are both natural and inescapable.
There's no shame in needing help, but it's hard to see that when your daughter screams whenever you hold her.
There's only so much can be done with a baby of a certain age. Arya-Rose currently eats, poops and looks around in increasing frustration at the number of things she can see but not touch. According to the midwife, she is probably more than usually advanced in terms of awareness, but not of proximal-distal development, so that her ability to perceive and wonder at the world significantly outstrips her ability to explore it, leaving her somewhat grommitty. It has a similar, if less direct, effect on her parents.
It also looks like she's about to have a growth spurt, as she is drinking even more than usual and having very unsettled nights, which could be due in turn to the need for energy and incipient growing pains. Either way, it means that she is very slow to settle at night, and becomes wakeful and restive very easily. She's still not good at settling in her cot at night, but it's early days yet.
On the plus side, Hannah managed a couple of naps in the day time while I kept an eye and an ear on a sleeping Arya, which is good, but doesn't make up for those long, disturbed nights and those fractious feedings in the wolf's hour.
I struggle to stay awake during these periods, and I know that's bad of me, because Hannah needs someone to talk to her and keep her sane while she sates the remorseless eating machine that is also our beautiful baby girl.
Parenting; it's a strange state of being.
ION: Mum and Dad got to meet Arya for the first time on Saturday and seem to have taken to her. Arya was perfect with them, as she always is with an audience who aren't her parents.
I mean, I knew they kept you awake; I just don't think I understood what it meant. It means constant interruptions and frustration at the time when your patience is shortest. It means long, long waits when you just want to sleep, but you can't, because you need them to sleep first so you can put them down and not roll on them in the night (and oh my the fears the night brings to the new parent).
Arya is still pretty dependent, and doesn't like to sleep on her own. She's less than a week old, so this is not unreasonable, just very demanding. And I am acutely aware that I had this for a weekend, whereas Hannah gets it all the time.
Am I tired? Hell yes.
Am I glad that Hannah has taken Arya back to Ipswich? No. I will gladly make the trade to spend more time with her.
Of course, ask me again after I've spent an entire week with her and I might say otherwise, but this weekend was my first real chance to just hold her and it's been amazing.
All of an hour after my last update, Hannah called us back in. Two hours later, I was an ersatz dad for reals.
Her name is Arya-Rose Hazel Dain Scott-Bennett, and she weighed 8lbs7oz at birth. She has dark, blue-green eyes and dark hair and is utterly beautiful.
Also, huge thanks to Mark Quennel for getting us to the ward on time.
