dem bones
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Slept on the floor last night - not due to some marital dustup, but because Rebecca came down with croup in the middle of her second birthday party and went to bed so distressed and restless I didn't want her to be alone overnight, so kipped out next to her in a sleeping bag on a Pilates mat (she was too irritable to share a bed with and I didn't want her overheating).
Incidentally, comfortable as a Pilates mat may seem during the relaxy bit at the end of yoga (did I mention I've taken up yoga? and knitting [again]? probably not as haven't had much time to put digits to keyboard lately) I wouldn't recommend spending an entire night on one: turns out I have more bony protruberances than I'd hitherto been aware of.
Pathology aside Rebecca's party went wonderfully well - filled the house with children and refined sugar, dotted a few adults around the place to forestall attempted plummets down the front steps and so I could have the odd distracted conversation about children's literature, the local housing market and, for the admittedly dubious benefit of those yet to procreate, why the people who claim that breastfeeding shouldn't hurt if you do it properly are LYING, and before I knew it I was farewelling the last of the guests and sponging chocolate icing off the paintwork.
Poor little Becca is still coughing like a drain so we're having a quiet day at home, hence unaccustomed interval for blogging. My parents, in town for the festivities, have taken themselves off to the other side of town for religious worship and shopping (apparently these things are now entirely compatible on the Sabbath). Having grandparents to stay providing some unexpected boons: I haven't touched a clothespeg or a dishcloth for several days, and my mother keeps making my father do the hoovering. Result! or, as I believe we say in New Zealand*, score!
Happy Birthday my darling little Rebecca. Who is now uttering complete sentences, conjugating verbs, mastering regular plurals, can count to twelve (or fourteen, I forget which), has colours pretty much sussed and has recently discovered the concept of the joke. What's more, the other day she prefaced the Alphabet Song with something I couldn't quite understand until I realised that it was 'toru, wha!' (Māori for 'three, four!'). Who knew sending her to a childcare centre with a curriculum and a bicultural ethos would reap such direct results?
*The other day a friend informed me that now that we're back on the south side of the globe I should describe large quantities of anything as 'heaps' rather than 'loads'.
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