Thursday, March 28, 2013

boob baby og-utt

Would you like a yoghurt now Elsie? I ask, scooping up her empty plate. 'Yes!' she confirms, sliding down from her chair. 'Essie get!'

She runs to the fridge. opens it up, grabs a soya yoghurt and returns to her place. I pass her a spoon and take the top off the pot for her. 'Oh lovely' I say, 'a blueberry yoghurt.'

'Boobree og-utt!' she says.

'Yeh-yeh-yeh-yoghurt' I correct.

'yeh-yeh-yeh-og-utt!' she responds.

Leaving the og-utt aside for a moment, I concentrate on the blueberries. 'Blue-berry' I say.


"BLUE berry'

'Berloo berree'


'Boob baby'

'Blueberry yoghurt'

'Boob baby og-utt'

I give up.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

big girl

Elsie has sucked her thumb since she was two months old. This thumb-sucking has generally been accompanied by a cuddly blanket toy, which she twirls between her fingers as she sucks. In French these toys are called doudous, and Elsie has several of them.

A doudou accompanies Elsie to her creche every day and is put to one side until nap time, which Elsie sometimes does and sometimes does not join in with. This morning, after she zipped her boots and popped the poppers on her coat I noticed her empty hands.

'Elsie my love, which doudou are you taking today?'

She looked up at me, with a wide-eyed soulful look. 'No doudou' she said, shaking her head. 'Essie big girl!' and she flashed me a huge grin.

She kissed me goodbye and walked out of the door, hand in hand with her Daddy. I watched her go, my two-and-a-half year old big girl.


I was holding a slumbering baby in my arms, looking out of our bedroom window at the snowy scene, when the car pulled up. I didn't think anything of it at first - we often get people parking outside our house - but when the two men got out, I started to take notice.

There was something odd about the way they were walking; with purpose but slowly. They were both dressed in dark clothes and looked determined, as if they were actors in a film. The first guy looked back at the second and pointed towards our house. The second walked towards me, through the entrance to our front garden and towards our garage door.

I started. What was he doing coming in through our garden? Suddenly I noticed a thumping in my chest and an urge to run. I went through to the bathroom where Marek was showering. 'There's a man trying to get in our garage!' I told him. He turned off the shower and looked at me 'what?' 'There's a man in our front garden' I said. 'It looks like he's trying to get in the house.' It sounded silly as I said it. Something from a film again or news item, although the adrenaline pumping round my body made it seem all too real.

Marek jumped out and grabbed a dressing gown. 'Get the phone' he said, and went downstairs. I went down to the sitting room and looked out. I couldn't see anything, although the car, a blue peugeot, was still there. I heard Marek on the ground floor, opening the shutters to see into the back garden, opening the internal garage door to see if there was anyone there. When he came up to the sitting room he was carrying one of the girls' walkalong toys. 'There's nobody in the house' he said. I looked at the toy. 'What were you going to do with that?' I giggled.

We went back to the window and Molly stirred in my arms. I jiggled her up and down and she settled again. 'There is someone there.' Marek said and took the phone from my hand. 'Is it 100 for police?' he asked and I heard my pounding heart again. It only got worse when we went through to look out over the back garden and saw the flickering light of torchbeams. 'They're trying to get in round the back!' I gasped.

Marek opened the window and looked out as the first man, torch in hand, came round the corner of the house. He made a noise and the man looked up. Just as I thought this is it, the crunch point, where things could all go terribly wrong, the man spoke. 'Police monsieur!' he said. Marek showed him the phone. 'I'm calling the police right now' he said. 'We had reports that there was a suspicious character about' the man continued. (you're telling me! I thought) 'There has been a burglary a couple of doors down and we thought we'd check out neighbouring areas.' How do we know he's telling the truth? I wondered, but he went back round the front and joined his colleague who had been in next door's garden. Suddenly the dark clothes and set expressions were less sinister and clearly an inconspicuous way for police to explore out of uniform. Before getting back in the car, the first officer stood in the street and radioed through the results of their investigation.

We went to bed. It took longer than usual to get to sleep; a long time before my heart slowed to normal speed.

Saturday, March 2, 2013


The thing about number two is not that you don't worry as much, but that the worry is a little more in perspective. Whereas with the first one everything is critical and forever, you know by the time the second one comes along that everything is a phase. If she forgot how to breastfeed one week that doesn't mean that when she's relearned, she won't be so enthusiastic about it that she puts on a kilo in 2 weeks...

This applies to number one too. Just because she has made a fuss about bedtime for the last few nights doesn't mean she won't grudgingly accept the routine tonight and go to sleep without a fuss. And just because we were losing our minds last weekend, feeling like every exchange was a mini battle doesn't mean she can't be a little charmer this weekend.

Every tough time will pass, it will pass, it will pass...