Funny Arlo age 2.10yrs sayings:

You think people's names are a link to what they like...eg:
Shelley; "Does she like Shells?"
Heidi;  "Does she like hide and seek?"
So yesterday when we were reading a book with an Uncle Willy in it...
"So does he like penises?"


We were having a particularly stinky ride in the car with Louie farting (ok, me too...).  We were all grossing out and then you added to the atmosphere and did a poo.  I got you out of the car, changed you and when we got back in to the stinky car you took a great big sniff and said "mmmmmm!  I like my smell, it's like stinky lollies!"

You say "actually" a LOT.  "I think Louie actually did this drawing.  Actually, I helped.  Actually I did lots of it actually.  Actually I think I did it actually."

I've not written about so many of your 'firsts'.  First day at daycare, first night staying at Nanna and Grandad's, first sentences.  And while they feel so crucial, so incredible at the time, I know the details will slip from our memories.  But that is life.  It is wonderful and fleeting and transient and joyful.  But my boy Arlo, know that every first was shared and celebrated, and every day of the last two years have been the best years of my life.  Alongside some of the hardest days of my life.  But they feel distant now.  You are no longer sore and sad and sleepless.  You are quite simply our sunshine boy.  Happy-go-lucky, kind, sensitive, lovely and so, so, so wonderful.  Truly, when I sit down to write about you, my heart leaps to my throat.  I just can't do you justice my Arlo boy, you are exactly what this family needed and we are so lucky you are ours.

You are about to turn two on Wednesday.  Nonna and Poppa are coming to spend the day with you,  Kellie is coming from Wellington in the weekend and we'll have birthday dinners and cake all week.  You'll have cake at daycare the day before, sharing it with your new friends in Juniors...it will be your first day there!  You already love it from your transitional visits, just like Louie you like activity and people and challenges....you've outgrown the Infants room and are more than ready to take on Juniors.  The teachers there already love you, they've told me you are very kind and caring and interested in everything.  The Infants teachers have also said they will be so sad to see you go, they adore you too.  Everyone does.

At home you love to follow Louie around, copying every move.  But you're also finding your own independence and sticking up for yourself more.  You dance and wiggle and jump and play fight with Dad and Louie, saying "I show you, I show you!  Mum, I show you" the whole time.  "What?  What?" is also a constant peep from you.  You don't like to miss out on ANY new information or developments.  You can really talk now, you can tell me pretty much anything.  I love it when this happens as I feel I can really help you when you are frustrated or sad about something, because you can tell me exactly what.  You ask for cuddles a lot which I also love.

I'm missing you and Louie and your Dad right now, you are off in Taupo staying at Nonna and Poppa's, I have to work.  You are going up to see the snow for the first time!  I have told Dad to take a video of your faces when you touch it but I can already see your lovely big eyes full of wonder in my mind.  You are so beautiful Arlo.  I love you so.

Mum xxx

Update!  Apparently Arlo took one touch of the blizzard-y snow and said 'NO!', climbed back in the car and ate snacks while Andy and Louie had snow fights and built snow men.  Good on you baby boy :)

Two or three times a year I get this way, a deep yearning feeling and a need to tap into that which resonates.  I often look to books, to specific authors - Hunter S Thompson, Herman Hesse, PJ  O'Rourke - but more often than not I reach for Tom Robbins.  I gather about me the books I have of his (I should really try and get them all), like good friends comforting me.  Even stacked up beside the bed I feel more at peace, that nearby are Amanda, Bernard Mickey Wrangle, Larry Diamond and all those other characters who tug at the absurd brilliance of living.

But, here, I must admit, the last time I picked up Another Roadside Attraction, a book I must read annually, it felt different.  As I gulped in the pages that usually bind me to a much needed world of sensual spiritualism, profound and preposterous, it felt....off.  I wasn't as transfixed, I wasn't thrown immediately into that state of grace it usually transports me to.  Fuck me if it didn't actually feel a bit silly.

How awful!  I can't outgrow Tom Robbins!  When one's lifetime heroes begin to fall, by death (RIP David Bowie, Hunter S Thompson) or by ones own maturity/de-sensitivity, who or what replaces them?

At 39 and a half, tonight , I still collect my friendly books about me.  I nearly dare not read them but I will.  And I'll hope that they still spark.  That growing old mustn't mean losing everything that once galvanised and gratified.

But...if it does, if I must leave the light of those who brightened my past days, then let me search out new torches in the dark.

I wish to give up social media, with its  promise that it keeps us 'connected' and turn again to wordsmiths, philosophers and poets who can connect us to something greater than ourselves and our little (wonderful) lives.  

I love the new year and all the commitments of change and resolve and betterment!  So far I've exercised, dieted, meal planned, quit social media (twice) and parented better than the whole of last  year.

Long live 2016!  May it be well lit.

The leaps babies make are astounding.  Huge and imperceptible all at the same time.  One day they seem nonplussed about the stacking cups, the next they can sit for many minutes putting one into another on repeat.  When you add dozens of these tiny developments together it's like a flower blooming on time lapse every day.  Mind blowing.

The complete 360 degree turn you've made is unbelievable!  From a pained, emotional, constantly over-tired, refluxy poor wee baby to this chilled-out, joyous little boy is nuts.  You are the sweetest, calmest, loveliest creature...happy to explore a basket of toys for 30mins ++ before the slightest peep for attention, I just can't convey how peaceful and ridiculously adorable you are.  We sit together, on the days Louie is at daycare, me working on my computer (planning a wedding, doing work), you on the floor turning toys over in your hands, shaking them, intently getting to know them.  I watch you for many minutes at a time, enraptured in your rapture.  I can't stop watching you.  I look at your face when Dad or Louie walk into the room, to watch the joy explode in your eyes.  I watch you eating, like a little monkey with your clever, clasping fingers.  I watch you and you catch my eye and smile so wide.  I watch you doze in my arms after your bottle at night, softly opening your eyes to see me and then relaxing back to sleep.  And today I watched you crawl forwards, for the first time!  Shaky and hesitant at first and then shortly after, proud and beaming!  Your world just got a whole lot bigger Arlo, you go discover it, I'll be here watching you, my heart fit to burst.  We have such a strong bond darling boy, you make me so, so, so happy.

I just finished watching 'Boyhood' but didn't feel as moved by it as I had anticipated.  Then I went to check on Louie in his bed.  He was all stretched out, star pose, his body all lengthened and leaned out, his chubby cheeks, long legs....a dichotomy between baby and boy.  The nappy and roundness of his face the only thing really keeping him little, my baby.  And then all the scenes of the movie, the two hour long movie-time growth of boy to man, suddenly seem an incredibly accurate foreshadowing of the next dozen years.  You are mine for such a short time.  All the world awaits you.

I feel a little like we've come out the end of a dark tunnel Arlo-boy.  Your first six months of life haven't been the smoothest with all your poor tummy pains and reflux and inability to sleep.  But pretty suddenly, things are much, much better.  I've stopped breast feeding you which was part heart-breaking, part liberating.  I celebrated six months of successful breastfeeding on our holiday in Taupo and then slowly switched to formula.  Along with the pangs of guilt and worry have been amazement and happiness at how hungry you are, how much better you are sleeping and generally, how much more we are both enjoying life.  

Yesterday I did something I've not done in your entire 6 month old life...I just sat beside you on a mat outside, not talking, not giving you any thing like I'd usually do (toys, leaves etc...nothing), not stimulating you in the slightest way. You sat (preferred modus operandi atm) and looked around,  completely mesmerised at the trees, grass, nothing (!), excited/arms flapping for 35 MINS!! With not a word from me. And then when you finally reached over for me for cuddles, you were so happy. It made me realise how over-stimulated you probably are, with a brother tearing around, in and out of cars, toys, bottles, food, nappies etc etc. You've probably been dying for some time to sit still and take in the world. 

You are very curious.  Turning over toys in your hands for many minutes, studying them intently.  As soon as I pick you up out of your bed your head whips around from side to side taking the room in, spotting any changes I may have made while you slept (a pile of washing, a stack of books).  You're happy and smiley and an absolute joy to be around.  Louie fed you breakfast this morning and you nearly died of happiness.  I could watch you watching Louie for eternity.  And I get to!

Happy half year my river boy, I love you so very much

xxx

Trying to get everything done these days is tough, I have to spread myself so thinly between everything/one that I don't think I do anything justice, least of all this blog.  My poor baby Arlo, if it wasn't for your Nonna (hi Mum!) texting me every now and then lamenting the lack of entries for you, there wouldn't be many at all.  But perhaps if I try to get something little down quickly every now and then, with the odd longer 'ode to thee', I might escape the second child neglect accusations?

Today we had to run about doing a bunch of errands while Louie was at daycare.  You were happy to be bumped from car seat to pram and back again a bunch of times, grabbing a few teeny, tiny Zzz's but mostly gazing about with your enormous blue eyes, squealing at everything.  You are so happy, so, so happy.  It makes me so, so happy because we didn't think you'd ever find life ok, let alone wonderous.  You do this sharp intake of breath when you are overcome with happy emotion, then let rip a big squeaky screech and grin and grin.  Oh you are so lovely!  I almost want to wake you up and have your fuzzy little warm head rest in on my shoulder.

You bath time is when you do a lot of smiling, lying on the bottom of it like you brother did when he was little.  Kicking and grinning and splashing water in your eye only to splutter and flail until you catch my eye and ascertain everything is ok and laugh a bit.

You've got one tooth through and the second on it's way.  You're eating some pear and having a bit of formula, to allow me to take a few photo booth bookings.  Not terrible fussed but we're getting there.  In the last few days you've put yourself to sleep a few times in your cot, you still wake 45 min later but you've even resettled a couple of times on your own, to my total amazement.

Suddenly you are very present, very awake.  Suddenly you are almost five months old.  I haven't minded the first few months slipping by because they were really tough.  But now, like every mum before me at some time, I'd like to pause a bit please.  You are such a delight kid.

I didn't think I had mother's intuition.  With Louie I followed Plunket's guidelines pretty closely, finding most of it made sense.  But Louie was a text-book baby and the 'norm' fitted him well.  With Arlo, we have been on a bit of a different journey, a tough one but one that has ultimately led me to find and trust my intuition.

From our first few days together, pacing the birthing centre all through the night and day with him screaming, I knew something was amiss with Arlo and  I didn't think it was simply the shock of this new world.   Not having any clue what was wrong I wanted help, advice and most of all a diagnosis.

My midwife, doctors, birth centre midwives, lactation consultant, Plunket, Mothercraft, Osteopath, Naturopath....opinions were sought and diagnosis' made.  Dozens of them.  Now I feel we're somewhat near the end of this crazy odyssey and after all the advice I received I now know one important thing....trust my own diagnosis.  As Arlo's mum, only I can pick out our path amongst the well-meaning recommendations of professionals and non-professionals alike.


But some good has come of the whole journey.  While I may continue receiving and seeking advice, I now truly feel equipped and personally validated to make decisions based on MY knowledge of MY baby.  And that alone feels like a load has been lifted.

Poor Arlo Joe, your blog posts are a wee bit less regular than Louie's but it is much harder to find a time when you are both asleep and I'm awake enough to write a coherent paragraph.  In any case, right now I am living the dream and you are both asleep.  Here goes....

You are 10 weeks old.  The sweetest little thing I ever did see.  You look so much like your dad to me, it's actually quite strange looking into your eyes, there is the same calmness, humour and spirit I see in him.  You are already doing little laughs, crinkly eyed smiles and open mouthed grins.  There is a round enamel painting in our room and every middle-of-the-night feed, when we sit and I burp you, you search it out and grin and grin wildly at it, like it is your best friend.  God it makes me laugh every time.

But it's not all been smiles my boy.  You've got reflux which took us a while to work out.  We followed the same path many worried mums and upset babies followed before us, trying to figure out what was upsetting you; osteopath, lactation consultant, family centre, doctor, plunket, naturopath, midwife, Mothercraft...the opinions and suggestions swirl about my brain now, contradictory and never-ending.  Finally we have reached a place that works for us.  I wear you often, in a soft wrap, snuggled up close.  At least once a day I try to settle you to sleep in your hammock or bassinet, you're getting better at sleeping in there.  I feed you whenever you need it.  You have medication to help with the reflux and I've stopped eating dairy to ensure that doesn't flare it up.  We're pretty happy now and having sought all the opinions of others, discarding the majority of them, I'm feeling really confident we're doing good, that you're happy and I'm sane!

And do you know what the best thing is?  You sleep like a dream in the night, just waking once for a feed and a grin at your painting-friend.  You don't know how thankful I am for those stretches of sleep my darling boy.

Oops. You've just woken after a great nap.  I'm going to go and get you up and we'll chat, feed and play with Louie.  I love you my boy.