beckity

Our daughter gets English from her Mummy, Polish from her Daddy and French from the creche and much of the outside world. The poor kid is drowning in languages but instead of picking one, or using some words from each Elsie has decided the way to approach this is to add her own language to the mix. Ah-Duh is hello. She says it mostly when holding a phone (mobiles, toy phones, remote controls... the kid's world is FULL of phones) up to her ear, but has also been known to use it while waving to welcome someone in. Give her a real phone with someone on the other end though and Elsie is at a loss. She goes quiet, gives you a worried look and backs away. Phones are supposed to be talked at - they are not supposed to answer. Also, she has been perfecting her phone chat over the months and now can go for several minutes, chatting, laughing at her imaginary counterpart's jokes and 'mm'ing in agreement on occasion. I love it. Mo-mo is butterfly; accompanied by hand-flutterin...

As we got onto the bus to the airport before 7am on the day the Big Canadian Adventure was due to begin, I couldn't help but sigh at all those hours ahead of us. Work had managed to keep me so occupied in the days before our departure that I had managed, until that point, to put off thinking about what 16 hours of travelling with an 18 month old would be like. Not just any 18-month old either. Our daughter - remember? the one with the big lungs and stubborn will? Now, over 24 hours later, as I sit in the dark of a Vancouver night - my body confused into being awake when all the extended hours of the previous day should have been more than sufficient to persuade it of the benefits of being asleep - I cannot believe how quickly the time passed. The short connecting flight was a dream. Ok, the baby belt was not a big hit and it took some serious book and food diversionary tactics to stop the tears, but baby did good! We got to Frankfurt with our spirit and smiles intact. The thr...

I turn away from the laptop as I feel the tissue tugged from my hand and Elsie trundles off with it in both hands. As I watch, she brings it up to her nose and wipes side to side. I can't help but smile as she hauls herself up the step to the toilet, throws the tissue down into the bowl and drops to her knees, shuffling backwards back down the step. She's got the routine down perfectly.

Chat Elsie holds her toy telephone to her ear... if her ear were on the back of her head. 'Uh-der!' she says, pausing for the response 'thuh-beliting-no-limi-nuh' her face is deadly serious. 'ah-nuh' she finishes. 'Puh-sh, puh-sh' she says, holding it out to Marek. 'There's the Polish coming out' I smile as Marek takes the phone. Prosze! 'Ra ra!' she exclaims, seeing her puppy. I move it to one side and recover Bagpuss from the toy box 'Ooow!' she says, right on cue. 'Me!' I correct, 'meouw'. She gives me the kind of look she's honed. It says 'whatever.' Eat We know when she's hungry because she tells us; one hand, finger ends brought together, comes quickly and sharply up to her mouth several times. Once she's delivered the message, she takes herself off to the kitchen, just to underline the urgency. She no longer wants help getting the food to her mouth though. Once you've prep...

2011 didn't start off too well. I was lying on a camp bed on the floor of a children's hospital ward as the fireworks screamed all around. I got a 'bonne année' from the mummy of the baby in the next cot, and the nurses popped champagne corks in the corridors, but I wasn't too thrilled about this new year. Baby Elsie was red and sweating in her cot, overcome with a fatigue I wasn't used to seeing, and I was sick with worry about this little creature who had only been alive a few precious months. Those sleepless nights in the hospital gave me plenty of time to worry about another central figure in my life. I thought about Mum; in between chemo, the prospect of a transplant and difficult months of recovery ahead. We spoke on the hospital phone; words of encouragement about Elsie doing little to calm my distracted mind. Elsie recovered, the hospital non the wiser for what had brought her in. We continued to get used to our new roles as paren...

She knocks the tower over, triumphant squeals despite the fact that this is not the first, not even the tenth time this has happened in the past few minutes. She toddles over to the scattered blocks and I scan the shelves for something else. Elsie may not be bored of the build-tower-topple-tower-build-tower game, but Mummy needs something new. Spotting the perfect thing to draw my little girl away from her beloved blocks, I bring the bird to my lips and give a short sharp blow. The bird lets out a squawk and Elsie turns her head quickly, letting the blocks fall to the ground and allowing herself to be drawn to this new game. She comes over quickly, head tilted slightly, the edge of her mouth drawn upwards giving away the anticipation she feels. I bring the bird back to my mouth and blow into the wooden whistle again, seeing her face lift as the magic repeats. Soon her hand is out, reaching for the toy and I hand it over explaining what to do. ‘Just like bubbles’ I explain, as she p...

She looks over to the box, filled with its furry bodies, legs and ears poking out of the top, a muddle of genderless animals waiting to be cuddled. She toddles over and, not seeing what she wants, starts pulling at the limbs, flinging the teddies to the left and right as she searches for Teddy, her special bear. Once he has been located with a triumphant ‘Eddy!’ she clutches him to her body with an arm, left hand holding on to a fluffy ear, right thumb locked firmly in her mouth. She wanders into the hall and catching sight of herself in the mirrored cupboard door, pauses a moment, watching herself cuddling the bear. She seems to like what she sees and gives herself a grin, even takes out the thumb in order to see her whole face. A sideways glance as she moves away and she’s on to the next thing, trailing Teddy behind her.