Hooray!!! It's Miss V's Birthday!!!

We ate cake for breakfast.
We ate cake for lunch.
We ate cake for dinner.

We sang.
We danced.
We partied.

We celebrated.

In a rare moment of calm this afternoon, Miss V decided to make a birthday card for her Dad.
When she asked me if she could make Daddy Kewl a card (can you really make someone else a birthday card for your birthday? Is that even allowed?!) I told Miss V that she absolutely could, and that I thought Daddy Kewl would LOVE it if she made him a card because then he gets to be part of her birthday celebrations.

Here is the card she made (if you look closely you'll see it opens backwards - kind of appropriate, I thought!):


And her message on the inside:


Awwwwww!

Yes, Miss V, your Daddy absolutely is missing you. He also loves you, very, very, very, very, very much.

Happy Birthday, darling child.
Love from Mum and Dad.

WORM SPROUTS

Miss V, "Mum?"

Me, "Yes Miss V?"

Miss V, "Didn't you know I am vegetarian?"

Me, "I do know that, Miss V. We are all vegetarian..."

Miss V, "But mum - how come you put worms in my dinner?"

Me, "I didn't!!"

Miss V, "You did.. Look.."

Me, "They are bean sprouts, Miss V! They come from a plant."

Miss V, "Mum, I am almost three now you know. You'll have to do better than that."

Me, "It's true! Bean sprouts grow from seeds!"

Miss V, "Can I just have cereal?"

Me, "You can have cereal after dinner if you're still hungry."

Miss V, "Can't I have cereal for dinner a'cause I'm not hungry?"

Me, "No, Miss V. This is your dinner. You can eat around the worms - I mean bean sprouts! You can eat around the bean sprouts if you don't want them."

Miss V, "Can I just go hungry?"

Me, "If you'd prefer to starve your body of nutrients, ok... But I'd rather you ate some stir fry."

Miss V, "I'd rather not ear worms. Thanks."

*Sigh*

...... And so, for our next project, we will be growing bean sprouts.

Tell me again

"Mummy?"

"Yes Miss V?"

"Tell me the story of when daddy died?"

"In the morning, early early early, even before the sun was up, daddy started poking me in the ribs to wake me up. He poked, then he tickled, then he started jumping up and down like a frog on the bed to get my attention. When I was awake he lay down next to me and said, "Guess what? We're pregnant!!!" ... And he was right! You were a teeny tiny little baby growing in my tummy, and your daddy knew all about you..."

"Even before you told him.."

"That's right, even before I told him! After lunch daddy had to go to his deli to make some food and drink some coffee. He left in his car, then he came back again because he wanted to tell you how much he loved you, and he did that by rubbing my tummy. Then he left in his car again... Then he came back AGAIN to tell you he loved you even MORE!!! He left again and this time he called us on the phone as soon as he got to the deli to tell us all that he loved us all very very very very very very much. He called lots and lots and lots that day..."

"Every half an hour all afternoon..."

"... Every Half hour, all afternoon. On his way home, dad stopped at the shops to get some chocolate so that we could all celebrate our teeny tiny baby growing in my tummy. It was after J and F's bedtime and daddy knew that, so he called from the car to say please please please could we all get up again so we can have a Miss V party with him! He was so very happy and so very excited about his teeny tiny jelly baby."

"Me!"

"You, Miss V! There was another man driving home that night, too. He had made some bad choices that evening and his body wasn't very good at driving. The man wasn't paying enough attention and so he caused a car accident. He drove into daddy's car and there was a big crash. Cars are big and heavy and much tougher than people, so when they crashed together daddy's body got broken and stopped working..."

"... And that's when he died."

"Yes, that's when he died. But daddy is always always always so very excited about his teeny tiny baby V, he is always celebrating your life and all we have to do to celebrate with him is wake up and think of chocolate! And you know the very best bit, Miss V?"

"Daddy is happy because he knows that we know he loves us lots, and lots, and lots, and LOTS!"

"And lots and lots and lots!"

.....

"Mum?"

"Yes Miss V?"

"Tell me again?"

Silly Caterpillar!

Reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar book to Miss V...

Me: "..... On Saturday he ate through one piece of chocolate cake, one ice-cream cone, one pickle, one slice of swiss cheese, one slice of salami, one lollipop, one piece of cherry pie, one sausage, one cupcake, and one slice of watermelon! ..... That night he had a stomach ache!"

Miss V: "Of course he got a stomach ache! I bet the chocolate cake wasn't gluten free and the ice cream wasn't dairy free and the lollipop had too many pes-er-tives and the sausage wasn't vege-ti-an... Silly caterpillar! Doesn't he know how to make good choices?!"

Me: "And there was no sympathy for the very hungry caterpillar, was there Miss V?"

Miss V: "No. Silly caterpillar."

Me: "The next day was Sunday again and the caterpillar made a great choice! He ate through one nice green leaf, and after that he felt much better!"

Miss V: "Well, that's something, at least. Silly caterpillar."

Indeed...

Magic Moment

Miss V was born with a phobia of phones. She got it from me and from an experience we shared when she was in my tummy.
On the night Daddy Kewl was killed, he rang me on his way home from work. He was hit by the drink driver while we were talking.
As much as I am thankful that in a way I was with him when he died, we never got to finish our conversation or say goodbye and that unfinished phone call was stuck on replay for a long time.
So, it is no wonder really that Miss V and I do not like phones!

Mostly I am okay with phones now, but Miss V is still not keen on them. In an attempt to make phones fun for her, I took the girls on a mission a few months ago. We went to the discount shop and I set down the challenge: Find as many phones as you can!

Together we scoured the store in search of our communication treasures - and we scored well! We left with a bag full of 14 new (toy) phones! When we got home we played lots of games with them. I practised juggling them, Miss J had fun throwing them into a bucket from a couple of meters away, Miss F did magic tricks with them (making them disappear by hiding them in different hand bags!) and Miss V used them to play fetch with the dogs.

Having achieved a good level of phone fun, the next step was to practise talking on them. Miss J or Miss F would make fabulous phone ringing sounds and I would answer the call and pass on messages to them. "That was your god mother. She says hello, and she is making snot pie for dinner!"

Miss J and Miss F caught onto this very quickly and became great role models. They started answering phones themselves and passing messages on to me. "That was Whip. He says hello and your shoes are smelly!"

Then there was the "Hello Song". Miss V's unicorn sings this song... Imagine the most annoying, catchy, lame tune you have ever heard. Multiply the annoying factor by 2. Now add these lyrics... "Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, how are you? Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, how are you? Thank you, thank you I am fine and I hope that you are too. Do do do do do."
To infinity.

It drives me bonkers, but Miss V loves it. So we sang it - Every time the phone rang.

For all of our phone antics, Miss V still does not want to speak to people on real phones (and that's OK. I'm sure she will warm to them when she is ready). She is starting to get used to speaking on toy phones though. After watching her sisters and I talking and laughing and passing on hello's she is now quite comfortable chatting on them herself, and although the phone may not be plugged in, she certainly has connections.

One day this week I heard Miss V talking on her phone. I didn't catch much of her conversation, but when I walked into her room she had a message for me.
She put down the phone, looked directly into my eyes and said,

"That was dad. He says goodbye."

Potato or Vagina?

A few days ago, Miss J, Miss F and I learnt about syllables. It wasn't a planned lesson, but when the word came up in conversation and they asked about it, it was a perfect teachable moment.

I explained the concept, then we "clapped out" their names and once they had a good understanding we moved onto fitting different words into songs.

We started with seven po-ta-toes (more!), then in our garden we grew seven tom-a-toes, seven pine-ap-ples, seven ba-na-nas, seven cu-cum-bers and seven dal-mat-ians (Whip the dalmatian was standing in the veggie patch).

Later, while all 3 kewl girls were playing with their babies, Miss J helped Miss V to count them. Upon discovering there were four babies, plus themselves makes seven, Miss J and Miss F came up with another version of the Potato Song...

"One vagina, two vagina, three vagina, four. Five vagina, six vagina, seven vagina, more!"

They spent all weekend singing it at the tops of their lungs - Including through the main street in town. Yesterday I heard no more vaginas and assumed they were past this particular craze.
I thought wrong.

Today at the park Miss V was playing with another young boy on the see-saw. He started singing, "Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up, horsey..." and Miss V joined in. When they were giddy enough, the boy asked if she knew the Potato Song and he sang, "One potato, two potato, three potato, four. Five potato, six potato, seven potato, more!" Adding in the accompanying hand gestures.

Miss V replied, "It's not po-ta-to! it's va-gi-na!"
Then she sang, "One vagina, two vagina, three vagina, four. Five vagina, six vagina, seven vagina, more!" Complete with Auslan signs and a Pip! and RAY! at the end.

I don't think the boy was quite ready for a dose of Miss V's girl power...
He ran away screaming.

Miss V - kewl girl that she is - just looked at me, shrugged her shoulders and said, "No more vaginas for him then."

Oh yeah! That's my girl!

Broked

Yep. In two places.
Well, it's actually fractured in two places, but as the kewl girls struggle with F words I thought "broken" would be a safer explanation.

As you may have gathered, my foot took on a bowling ball and my foot lost.
"Ouch" would be the understatement of the century.

I have been feeling very sorry for myself - Six weeks of immobility! - What's that F word again?
This afternoon I was sulking on the couch while the girls were making tents with my crutches. Miss V left the game and her big sisters to come and see me. In my sour state, I was more focused on snapping at her to be careful of my foot than being appreciative of her concern. She braved my bitterness though, and squeezed in next to me. She patted my head, looked sadly at my foot and said, "It's broked, mum..."

Then she handed me the sticky tape and said, "Here, now we'll fix it."

Awwwww!

(And again, ouch!)

Heads or Tails #46

Heads or Tails - The Tuesday Meme
This week theme is: HEADS - Anything starting with the letter O


Obganiate: To irritate someone by constantly repeating oneself.

Miss V and I seem to have this down to a fine art.
In fact, we are so good at it we can irritate each other simultaneously...

Mum? Can I have a smarshmellow?

No.

Mum? Can I have a smarshmellow?

No.

Mum? Can I have a smarshmellow?

No!

Mum? Can I have a smarshmellow?

NO!

Mum? Can I have a smarshmellow?

NO!

Mum? Have you had enough of repeating yourself?

Yes.

Can I have a smarshmellow?

No.

But MU-UM!!!

Can I have a smarshmellow...?

In the end, I'm not sure who is more irritated:
Me, by constantly being asked the same question... Or Miss V, by constantly getting the same, dissatisfying answer.

Either way, I am OVER smarshmellows!!

Magic Moment

I love tax time.
I love working with figures... Finding ways to be clever and different within a system.
Talking to my accountant is exciting and our conversations are always interesting and progressive.
Organising receipts and statements and making estimates and adjustments and calculations is such a fun way to spend every evening.
Oh yeah - I love tax time...

Almost as much as I love positive self talk!

In all seriousness... This year is actually a big step forward for me. It is the first year since M died that I am getting involved in my taxes.

As a couple our finances were greatly intertwined. Even though M had his own business and I had my own work, we also had a shared business and our marriage, our children and our choices meant that tax time was very much a family affair - Something I'm sure most couples relate to.
We were both fairly good with numbers, and we really did enjoy working with figures and finding ways to be clever and different within a system. We'd sit together in our own world of calculations, occasionally coming together for a comparison or a congratulations when we were on roll. M - smarty pants that he was - would always remind me to take a "brain break" every couple of hours and then he'd make me laugh by asking, "Is it hard being so smart?".

Since M's death, the thing I have struggled with about tax is that even when a person dies, their records don't. M is no longer here, but his business, our business and the results of our choices are still alive and kicking. Or more to the point, alive and taxing.
For the last 2 financial years I've left everything to the accountant and a financially savvy friend. I preferred to deal only with the idea of doing tax without M, and not the reality.
This year I decided it was time to stop hiding, stop pleading ignorance and take responsibility...
Time to get real.

So this week I've been doing our taxes. I've been talking to our accountant and organising receipts and statements and making estimates and adjustments and calculations.
I've spent hours sitting in the office alone - Half the time working, the other half crying.

Yesterday, after a good hour of tears followed by a good hour of calculating, Miss V came in to see me. She climbed on to my lap and sat for a while, sucking her thumb and stroking the side of my face as I worked.
Then she turned her body to face mine and leant back into my line of vision, telling me it was time to focus on her now.

I put my pen down and kissed her forehead. Miss V sat for a moment, then reached up and tucked a few stray hairs back behind my ears. She looked into my eyes, holding my gaze and melting my heart, then she asked,

"Mummy? Is it hard being so smart?"


To read more Magic Moments or join in with your own, head over to Mountaingirls Musings.

The fine art of feeding

I've been breastfeeding for a while now. I nursed Miss F and Miss J until they weaned themselves when I was around 6 months pregnant with their sister. Then Miss V arrived and she has been nursing for two years. My point being - I think it's safe to say that by now, we have it down to a pretty fine art.

So, imagine my confusion when tonight, instead of latching on properly, Miss V missed her mark. She missed her mark by a lot. I looked down at her sucking away happily, seemingly oblivious to the fact she was a good distance away from her target.

Then she looked at me and said, "Yum. Chocolate."

Umm.. Note to self: Chocolate goes IN mouth. Not down top.

The Polar Present Surprise!

Budding photographer, Miss F, was in charge of photo-documenting the kewl Polar Present yesterday. Consequently there are a LOT of photos. And I do mean a lot. This is a link to a slide show featuring 36 of her best shots. This is the very, very, short list, down from 280 something.

Because you do not have the parental obligation to be interested in every single one of them, here are a few of my favourites (just please don't tell Miss F)...

Birds eye view (AKA A great excuse for Miss F to stand on a chair):
Side view (image 1 of 100):
It's melting! Sort of!
Hellooo out there...
Side view again (image 34 of 100):'See' shells:The last one before bed:The last last one before bed:

And of course, the morning after:

The Polar Party

Our house turned into a Polar Wonderland today.

A Polar Wonderland that for two magical hours, became a Polar Playground for 15 Polar Bear Cubs.

There was painting and dancing and music making...
Much eating and drinking...
Lots of laughing...
Plenty of love...
And that was just the Mummy Bears.

The Cubs went chocolate frog fishing, paint walking and pony riding...
They passed many parcels and pinned many tails...
Hats were made, then worn...
Cup cakes were iced, then eaten...
The sound of party blowers filled the air...

And the Polar Present Surprise was unveiled:

Miss V's birthday treasures, suspended in a block of Polar Ice!

Nanuk led us on a treasure hunt.
We followed his clues through creeks...
Around corners...
In and out of trees...
Over hay bales...
Under icicles...
Into igloos...
And up snowy mountains...

'Till finally, we found our Polar Prize.
The cake:

Pip and Ray made a guest appearance...
Treasure was hunted and stashed in party bags...
Then the ice started melting...
And it was home time for the visiting cubs.

More on the Polar Present tomorrow...
But for now...

Shhhhh!

Birthday Cub is sleeping!

Miss V's Vocabulary

Yep, it's all about Miss V this week. This is another post in her honour, and there is still a polar surprise to come...

This one isn't all love light and bliss though, 'cause that would just get boring!
After a couple of comments about Miss V's talking skills I thought it only fair to offer a slightly different perspective.

When we got home this afternoon, Miss V did not want to get out of the car. She insisted I shut all the doors and leave her alone. I obliged, and I went back frequently to ask if she was ready to get out.

These were the words she threw my way when I opened the door at 5 minute intervals:

5: "NO!"

10: "Umm.. NO!"

15: "NO!"

20: "NO!"

25: "NO!"

30: "Ha ha! NO!"

35: "NO!"

40: "NO!"

45: "NO!"

Then my personal favourite..

50: "Access denied, fool!"

That would be a NO then..?

Miss Two

Today's celebrations kicked off with presents in bed at 4:30am.
Pip and Ray are out in force.
We ate cake for breakfast.
We ate cake for lunch.
We wore cake for dinner.

Oh yes, she may be only two, my girl, but she can hold her own in a food fight.
Especially her food fight, in honour of her birthday.

More celebrations still to come... Including one mighty impressive Polar Present.
It is the very essence of kewl.

Stay tuned!

Two

Soon my little baby V will be 2 years old.
Miss V, who has been "almost 2" for months, is now really turning two.
Next week.

So lately I've been reflecting on the past two years, and last night, we had a moment.
We were nursing when Miss V stopped, looked up at me and said, "I'm happy. Are you happy, mum?"

To fully appreciate the kewlness of this moment, a little history is necessary...

When we found out I was pregnant with Miss V's older sisters, Daddy Kewl and I spent hours upon hours talking about our future. We talked about our own childhoods, about those family traditions we wanted to pass on to our children and those that we didn't. We talked about experiences we wanted our children to have, cultures and communities and people and places and ideas that we wanted them to celebrate. We talked about our own values, both as people and as parents. We imagined hundreds of "what if?" scenarios and would constantly throw "what if?" questions at one another, to "test our parenting styles". We also imagined thousands of different lives our children might lead and different paths our family might travel.
We laughed hysterically at ourselves, too, because we knew there was no way we could possibly imagine how our lives would change, or what our parenting styles would be like!
Then the twins arrived, and we laughed even harder.

The day we celebrated Miss V's impending arrival was also the day of Daddy Kewl's departure.
In the midst of my grief, I was terrified I was going to have a sad baby - That I would pass all of my pain on to her and that she would be born sad.
The thought that she was feeling what I was feeling and that this would be her first experience of life was almost more than I could stand.

All through my pregnancy, my greatest wish was for Miss V to be happy. This was the only scenario I wanted to imagine for us and the only "what if?" I could entertain.
I vowed that every day I would seize the happy moments and experience them with every fibre of my being. I vowed to find as many as possible, to celebrate them with my girls and to be thankful for them with all of my heart.

Next week, we celebrate two whole years of incredible, fabulous, amazing, magical, joyous moments, and I am thankful for these with all of my heart.

Last night when Miss V stopped nursing, looked up at me and said, "I'm happy. Are you happy, mum?", I looked into her eyes and the purist joy filled every fibre of our being.

Yes, Miss V. We are happy.

Precious

I ran into S, a work colleague and friend, in town today. She is a fabulous, loud, over the top, light up the room, best friends with everyone kind of gal. When we get together the results tend to be somewhat, well, loud and over the top. Today was no exception.
After we air kissed about a hundred times she announced to the world that she was wearing her "washing day undies" and they were currently "exploring the great divide". Then she unleashed her affections on the girls.

F and J have met her before and they both adore her. They giggled and twirled and air kissed like there was no tomorrow.
It was a new experience for Miss V though, and my kewl, calm and collected little earth girl was not so impressed.

S: "Who's this little cherub then?! Aren't you just the most precious little gorgie porgie thing I've ever seen?!!"

Miss V: "No. I'm V. And you're standing too close."

Darling S was speechless.

Leaps and bounds

At 2 years old, Miss V has already mastered the alphabet song!!

Actually, better make that the "A B C" song...

A, B, A, B, A, B, C.
A, B, A, B, abby, abby, C.
A, B, C.
A, B, C.
A, B, C, B, A, B, C.
A, B, C, B, A, B, C.... Now I no more A B C!

Pip!
Ray!

Miss V Moment

Constantly ringing phones drive me nuts. Not because I don't want to talk to people (although sometimes that's true, too), but because the shrill ringing interrupts wherever I'm up to in my day. It interrupts my 'being in the moment'.

The phone has been ringing almost non stop today. After the fifth call I hung up and muttered, "What's with the phone today?"

Miss V looked at me oddly and said "It's ringing..."
I agreed that it was indeed ringing. A lot.
She took on that oh so patronising expression and, speaking very s-l-o-w-l-y and clearly, she said "Phones a'sposed to ring, mum."

My 2 year old thinks she's smarter than me.

Welcome to the family, Nanuk

Just before turning 2, J and F began fearing monsters. They'd point to a door, or around a corner, or under the bed, or even up a tree and tell me that there was a monster there. I'd talk it through with them and try to find out what the 'monster' was, but it didn't seem to be a creature that logic could vanquish. We decided if the monsters didn't have to be physical beings, neither did our protectors.
This is when Tiger joined our family. He is a monster scaring extraordinaire, able to put the nastiest of creatures back in their place with a single "Roar!". From that day forward, every time the girls would spot a monster they would call on Tiger and together they would "roar" the sorry beast into oblivion.

Yesterday Miss V spotted a monster. Usually her older sisters are on hand and they quickly send Tiger in to battle. Yesterday, though, Miss V was on her own. I was about to jump in and remind her that her protector was merely a roar away, but something stopped me. It was one of those moments where time went all funny and I seemed to be frozen. I watched as Miss V called on a different protector.

Instead of a "roar", she gave a growl, then lowered her head and growled again.
She announced "Monster gone", and my sense of time kicked in again. I told her she was very strong for dealing with a monster and asked her to tell me more about how she scared it away. She told me, "Nanuk help(ed)." Nanuk is the Inuit name for a Polar bear and Miss V has been fascinated by them since we saw them at Sea World not long ago.

So welcome to the family, Nanuk. I hope you decide to stick around.