It's all going swimmingly

You blink and another fortnight passes. Blink twice and Grace has burst our of her four month long swimming regression to chalk off a few widths without batting an eyelid and proudly claiming her first Certificate and badge. Brimming with pride she clutched it to her to chest for most of the day. 

I'll ignore the episode in the pool this week where I hauled her out half way through the class for refusing to let go of my cossy and being generally obstructive... we can't win them all. Avoiding all eye contact with parents in the pool and more on poolside waiting to go in, I'm still torn over whether it was the right thing to do. The ensuing tantrum lasted long enough to make me feel guilty and smart sufficiently for Grace to promise to behave in the pool next week. Little madam.  

Sanity and patience back intact, we've been out to the local village charity event for Yorkshire Air Ambulance. Enjoying the last of the summer sun and a late birthday present from our dear friend Wendy, Grace redeemed herself and I felt human again. 

  

Stop talking, I'm telling a story...

The bedtime routine used to be simple. Clean cut. Bath, a story or two (three on a bad night), kiss kiss, sweet dreams and retreat. Clean. Straight in and out, no messing. 

Not so anymore. Grace has taken charge. 

I can thank preschool for this change. Story circle I think they call it. Where they sit and listen, quiet as a lamb while the reader holds the book a certain way so the whole class can see the page.

Yes, I have preschool to blame. 

For I'm in the throes of 'a squash and a squeeze' last night, the flavour of the day, and all of a sudden I get told to stop! Stop!

"What's the matter?" I enquire, nonplussed.

"You're holding the book wrong!" She tells me, moving my fingers to the spine and turning the book to face the room. "Like this Mummy!" She nods, satisfied.

I pick up where I left off, adjusting to the new position, enjoying our time together. As I draw to a close, I'm aware that Grace is looking fidgety. 

"My turn now Mummy!" She declares, peeling the book from my grip. 

"Really?" I concede, half an eye on the clock.

"Yes, now sit down cross-legged and be quiet. Listen!"

And so I sat. And I listened. So endearing hearing her interpret the pictures in her own way, pebbled with the odd 'be quiet!' aimed at me for joining in or laughing, or something. One book led to two and more. More! MORE! A moment to be cherished.

A bit like the moment at the end of a long day between a child's bedtime and your own. 

It was short last night. A bittersweet combo of Grace finding her storytelling wings and me needing to hit the sack early. 

Night all.

Three and counting

Who would have thought three years ago that we would be where we are today? We've come a long way together, Grace and me. I so want to sit and pen my thoughts and memories, hopes for you Grace, but life is crazy busy just now so I'm bunging this timeline of pictures on here instead, while I can, and just as soon as I can grab half hour to gather my head and put my thoughts down, I want to capture how I see you through my eyes as you turn from two to three years old. Until then, here's a little snippet, some favourites of mine...

3 years old

3 years old

2nd birthday

2 years

1st birthday

1 week old

5 days old

Toad in the Hole

She'll not thank me for writing this, but Grace has reached a new milestone. I'm marking the occasion with a rare pic of Grace and me. Why? To capture that look on her face - slight concern, intrigue, awe... 

Minding my own business as one does, I become acutely aware that Grace has made a discovery. She's found a 'hole' and she needs to know what it is. Quickly. I turn to see her pointing at her nether regions and appealing to me with a quizzical look that says 'am I broken?' and 'what is it?' all at once without uttering a vowel.

I ignore her. Just this once - I excuse myself and carry on drying myself - we're in the changing room after swim class.

She doesn't let up. She asks me again - 'what is it?' and then 'have you got one Mummy?'
Gritting my teeth and with hushed tones, ignoring the other mothers I can hear masking laughs with coughs, politely dressing their own children who don't ask such questions in the changing room at swim class.

'Well', I tell her, 'its something mother nature put there when you were born'.

She nods, seemingly satisfied with my response and content to step into her knickers, hiding the offending apparition.

'Show me yours Mummy!' she demands, tugging at my towel. We argue the pro's and con's of this for what seems like an eternity until she eventually settles for modesty and let's the conversation move on. My negotiation skills were hammered. Out of the woods and with a sigh of relief, I go back to mentally checking off the online grocery order I plan to do when I get home in my head.

'Has Daddy got one?' she brings me back to the hear and now. Toddler Adam in the next cubicle giggles, Grace stifles a yawn. The discovery trail is tiring.

'No sweetie, Daddy is a boy. He has something different'.

'A sausage Mummy?'

And at that moment I realise, amidst the sniggering from the Mum next door, that not only is Grace inquisitive and bright, she's a mind reader as well. Sausages off the shopping list, I make a note to substitute the Toad in the Hole I had planned for supper. It's enough to put you off your food.

Silent Sunday

Grace, two and a half.

Moments like these

With the excesses of Christmas already nagging at my waistline, I'm breathing in and soldiering on as every good Mother and Wife must. To purge we took advantage of a break in the bleak mid-winter gloom to get out for a breath of fresh air in the, erm, fresh air.

It was a glorious day, brilliant sunshine and lots of muddy puddles for Grace to splash up and down in. Cue long afternoon nap from a well worn out little toddler (and Husband)! In the moment in between I've been mulling over all the good things in our lives and how something as simple as a walk in the park can lift ones spirits.

It's been a fickle year. I've been made redundant, a process that left me shell shocked despite having the foresight to see it coming. I've been fortunate to find another job to start straight away but the adjustment is hard when I spent so long in my last. I'm sure I'm going through a mini-mourning for my old workmates and banter! I know the period of change has come as blow to Daisy-woof as well who had enjoyed playing with other dogs all day long for a living and now has to make do with a dog walker, albeit a very good one. And the Husband has lost the indulgence of sleeping in until 7am now that we have to exercise the dog before the work day so he's been out in all weathers jogging the dog the minute the alarm goes off at 5.50am, tiptoeing out of the house trying not to disturb a sleeping toddler.

Grace has breezed through the year, taking nursery in her stride and taking learnings from every waking day. She's accomplished a lot in 2012.... walking, talking, potty training.... singing ('the bingbong song', 'twinkle twinkle little star', 'baa baa black sheep' are on repeat)..... dancing (her firm favourite Gotye's hit 'somebody that I used to know' when it comes on the radio).... and books - reading lots of wonderful stories to fire her imagination. Drawing and painting has come top of her list of enjoyable passtimes and I can see now she's likely to be a leftie. Mummy's little artiste. She's coming on a treat.

So with all the happenings this year, it's nice to find the odd hour to go out as a family to enjoy something simple like walking the dog and splashing in puddles. It clears your mind.

Or at least it helps!

Little Miss Independant

When Grace went to Daisychain nursery for the last time, my heart broke just a little bit. For nearly two years she has been going, her home away from home. She loved it, and I loved that she loved it. She's learnt so much from them, not least of all how to start out in life being little miss independant.

"Gracie do it!" has become one of the most-heard phrases in our house.

Take the bedtime story for instance. We have been reading "We're going on bear hunt" since it was passed down to us from a good friend of mine just after Grace came into the world. She knows it, the way it rolls, whats on the next page. I didn't realise how soon it would be before she started telling us... "No Mummy, Gracie read it!"

Of course she's not actually reading, she's recalling the pattern of the words, remembering the pictoral cues on each page. Nevertheless, my little miss independant is pretty darn good!

"Going on a bear hunt.... big one... not scared.... beautiful day"
"Grass! Swishy swashy, swishy swashy!"
"Going on a bear hunt.... big one... not scared... beautiful day"
"Mud! Squelch squerch!"

it goes on, through the snowstorm, through the river, through the dark wood....

"stumble trip, stumble trip"

to the cave

"dark cave, not scared. Tiptoe tiptoe. It's a bear! Raaaaaaaaaaa!" she mimics a bear at this point, claws ready to pounce!

"quick! back home, upstairs, door, stairs, bed"
"no bear hunt again"
"End!"

I'd video or soundbite it, but I'm not allowed. Little miss independant tells me "No Mummy. Away!"
So I put the smartphone away. I've been told.

And I ask her, has Mummy told you she loves you today?

"Yes Mummy. Love you too. Gracie do it".

And we both go to bed.

News just in

Amidst a busy week juggling garden leave with the mad dash of taking Matt the Husband to the station in the morning, I have found time to start potty training the little one. A bit like my life, I've turned my back on the conventional and instead chosen something a little more oooo. Setting aside a few days where I could commit to being home all day to concentrate on things, Grace started out yesterday morning, day one, without a nappy. No nappy, just big girl pants. And instead of getting her to sit on the potty to 'try' every half hour or so, we're going with a method set out in an e-book by Lora Jensen called 3 Day Potty Training....

.... we remind Grace to let us know if she needs a wee or a poo, and we praise her for keeping her big girl pants dry. On repeat. Like every five minutes. Again and again and again. And the minute we see her start to wee, we run the gauntlet to the potty so she can finish (hopefully) on it, followed by praise and the reminder she needs to let us know when she needs a wee so she can go to the potty and keep her big girl pants dry - because wet pants is yucky!

.... we've just finished day two. Thus far, I'm glad to have waders and a shovel in my arsenal. One full wee on the potty (yay!!!) and one dribble. Many on the floor and nothing to report on the poo-bomb. I'm looking forward to day three. Grace definitely seemed to know what was expected. I was a bit miffed when she did a wee in the bath today as we didn't get to practice after the success of her potty-hit before her afternoon nap. Hey ho. All in a days work. Anyway, wish us luck!!

Another new thing for Grace this week is talking on the phone. She likes to phone her Nanny and Grandpa in Norfolk.... tonight Grandpa was asleep, so Grace was telling Nanny about her day, and singing Twinkle twinkle little star.... too cute!

I'll be checking back in with a progress report in a day or two, there's the weekend left to get the potty training under her belt before back to childcare on Monday.... let's go Grace, I've got everything crossed.

If you're interested in the method described, go to Lora's website here

Back with aplomb

I blinked. It's almost a month since I've felt inclined to blog, Grace has learnt so many new things and before I even noticed I realised I've been distant (if not absent!). Back with aplomb, I've got heaps of stuff I want to offload, starting today with a few pics from our weekend visit to Cannon Hall to enjoy the autumn colours and give Grace her first experience of kicking around in a pile of leaves. Priceless.

Wow! I have never seen a toadstool.. what a gem!

As it happens, Grace spent more time playing in the autumn fall than she did walking around the farm. On the way home she sang through her repertoire of favourite songs, wheels on the bus, old McGracie had a farm, baa baa black sheep... very sweet to listen to. Must try to get a sound byte.

Am currently sat on my laurels with the dog by my side. Will be heading off into the wilds for another walk later. If we can brave the weather... the sunshine of Sunday seems a distant memory for today is blustery and wet as an otters pocket. Darn.

First days

 

Tired after her first day, Grace chomps on a cucumber stick in the car on the way home.

 

Up at the crack of dawn, Grace could be heard calling Mummy, Mummy from her bedroom. I was in the shower so Husband nipped in to raise the blind and say good morning. No Daddy! She wants Mummy. She comes through, doe eyed, pyjamas hanging off her bottom and chats to me while I get clean. Bubbles, she keeps telling me. Sitting on the bed while I get dressed, I prep her for the day. I'm a big believer in setting the day out to Grace so she knows what to expect, what's on the agenda, no suprises. I'm sure this is why most days for us are tantrum free zones. I'm explaining it's her first day at pre-school, that she's going to meet new friends, and play with new toys, when she remembers she can put the foot stool up against the wall in her bedroom to watch for Grandma coming up the road. She spends the next ten minutes there, calling back to me, no, no Grandma (she means she's not here yet). She gets excited when she see's the car - She's Here! she keeps yelling at me from her room.

 

From there, she starts breakfast with Grandma while we finish getting ready for work. Quick goodbyes, and reassurance from Mummy that she's going to enjoy her first day at pre-school.

 

And she does, Mummy's little star.

Grace's 2nd Birthday

My beautiful girl, with her new favourite cuddly!

Blowing the candles out at first puff!

Dancing for the crowd...

Nightmare!

I'm a light sleeper, disturbed often by the dog nudging me to cover her back up with her quilt. Last night was no different, except I became aware that Grace was having a nightmare in her sleep. Lying in darkness, silent apart from the Husband and the dog snoring, Grace was calling out "No... No...." again and again. I listened for a while deciding whether to go in or not, she wasn't screaming so opted to stay put. A while later I went in to check on her, tuck her back in... a doe-eyed girl with Mr Rabbit held tightly to her cheek greeted me... first nightmare... check!

Uh-oh!

Appropriate it seems that on the day Grace masters the linguistics of 'uh-oh!', I find myself peering down a 13 week long tunnel to what will be my first road race... Without dwelling on the nitty gritty of this milestone, if you set me off with the start gun now, I'd be stopping in a little under two miles. Rounded down, I make that a good 4 miles short.

Uh-oh indeed.

Now for those who know me well, running is something one does only to catch the ice-cream van as it pulls away with my chocolate oyster still tucked nicely in his refrigerated tuck-box. I am not a runner. Nor am I particularly interested in exercise or fitness in general. I like my food and lots of it. Generally I dish up healthy family eats as we have a marathon runner and a toddler at the table. And as much as I love to eat healthy food, I like my portions big, and I like a free rein to nibble away at something 'naughty' like chocolate, ice-cream, chips and dips, or whatever the fancy might be.

Step forward the new Heather.

(Yeah right!)

Instead I send her substitute to the podium. Fitness mad, burning calories like crazy and training training training to get a personal best when taking part in Jane Tomlinson's Run for All in York, 13 weeks from now on August 4th.

(The personal best won't be hard, it's my first).

I also want to shift this baby-weight (*read combination of baby-weight and over-indulgence weight*) once and for all. I can't blame it on the baby forever, she's weighing in at 1 stone 8 pounds herself, roughly what this Mummy needs to lose. Holy crapola!

So what's the plan Stan? Well, Stan says I need to kick my butt into gear, set a weekly goal and jolly well stick to it come hell or high water. So here it is. I'm going to start running again TOMORROW. Watch this space for proof. I'm aiming to run 3 days a week minimum and although this will be short distances to begin with (starting at 1.5 miles again), I will be working this back up in the right direction slowly. I'm also sticking with Jillian Michael's 30 day shred DVD which is giving me 20 mins intense work out every night before bed. I'd also like to commit to one swim this week and one yoga session just to mix it up a bit.

I have my weigh in tonight. I've been pretty much on it this week, stuck to plan, eaten moderately, and only tucked into the biscuits once and even that didn't really tip me over the syn count too badly. I'll check in with an update soon, wish me luck!


Let the fitness training commence!

You can stick it here!

Making the hundred metre dash from the car park to the Dentist's in pelting rain, I arrived at the counter dishevelled, wet and a little hoarse for clutching a squirming toddler under my arm. We're early, so I have time to catch my breath, straighten my hair and practice sucking in my muffin top before prancing up the stairs to see Mr Lane, Rick, my long-standing guilty pleasure of a Dentist. We're on first name terms.

We go back eight years me and Mr Lane, then the new graduate, nervously fumbling around in my mouth with his blue rubber gloves on. I looked forward to the visits. I'm now on a 12 month recall and I found myself sucking in air as I step into the room to see the last year has not been kind to Rick. Instead of gazing lustily up into perky young eyes while he prods around the corners of my mouth with his rubber pinkies, I am transfixed by the gloriously middle-aged hairs sprouting precosiously out of his slender nose.

I'm more than a little miffed. My guilty-pleasure is no more.

Instead of lingering in the chair for one last poke, I hop up quicker than you can say 'married', and beckon for Grace to come to sit in the chair. Her feet appear stuck to the floor with toffee dropped by the last patient no doubt. No amount of coaxing can move her closer to the Hairy One, so we coax her with a sticker.

It's her first time.

For me it's rubber, for my daughter apparently it's stickers. The bate works and she points to her chest, gesturing, 'you can stick it here'.

She won't smile for him, but she does do a little lion-roar when he makes the trade which shows off her pearly whites. He's happy with that, he says come back in six months.

I'll remember the day Grace first visited the dentist. I realised it's not only the dentist that has weathered over the last 12 months, it is us too. Matt the Husband has just pointed out that he too has nose hairs. Soon his ears will grow,  his forehead will rise and he too shall become older. As for Grace and me, we girls aren't getting any younger.

I can't believe my little girl has endured her first visit to the dentist, albeit without a smile on her face...

Spontaneous oof

Riding home in the car last night I'm oblivious to the chatter in the back as Grace flits between talking to herself, the dog in the back and me. Sitting at a red light, she motions for me to pass her the plastic toy that has fallen into the footwell, a dog with a party hat on.

She thanks me by saying 'oof oof!'

Precious.

Where'd my week go?

I've been a bit absent of late. Blogging has been a fond memory so I am making a point of putting it back on my map so to speak. Family L have been very busy, trips to Norfolk to visit Grace's Nanny and Grandpa, play dates with friends in the village, Daddy away on business in the Big Smoke, and me left nursing a poorly back and juggling a toddler with work. Wow, long sentence! *Must refine grammar*

Grace has been a little star and I must note these things she is doing for the first time in case I forget...

• Taking great pleasure in jumping in puddles...
• Putting Mama's shoes on and trotting off to show her Daddy... clip clop clip clop...
• Making noises of 'broom broom' as we do the supermarket sweep in the trolley...
• Wanting more, more and still more of row row row your boat, so she can giggle and do the roar of the lion, the shiver for the polar bear and scream for the crocodile. Super cute...
• Saying 'I did it!' to everything she does, like putting her socks and shoes on, putting her clothes in the laundry bin...

I'm hoping to get back on track with the running too but my back is still being a bit of a pain so I am planning on seeing the physio in the village for some advice. As for letting things slip, I am dreading my weigh in at Slimming World on Thursday.

Anyone for bisuits?

2 years and counting

Well Happy Birthday to me! Two years ago today I started this blog on a rainy Saturday when the ironing pile was beckoning and I needed something better to do with my time. What started out as "The Making of Gracie-Wiggle" became "Grace and Me" and brings me to where we are today. 260 posts under my belt and a whole lot of memories.

April is the month of occasions, blog's birthday, my birthday, our wedding anniversary. And Grace turned 20 months. She can now dress herself remnants from the laundry basket, favourites being Mummy's knickers and bra. Plenty of material to play with.

Thanks again for stopping by to read my drivel, hopefully you enjoy some of it.

Ciao for now! x

Moo! said the cow!

Grace and me have had a jolly good chinwag today. It went something like this (and it's still tickling me now):

"Grace, can you say Mama?"
"Mama"

"Can you say Daisy?"
"Baisy"

"Can you say Grace?"
"Base"

"Can you say Cow?"
"Moooooo"

"Grace, that's the noise a cow makes. Can you say Cow?"
"Moooooo"

Love it. The things children say...

Once I was a Pixie...

"Once upon a time I was a Pixie. For 12 months I was safe in the knowledge I was a Pixie. I am a Pixie no more."

Grace has moved up class in nursery to the toddler room or 'Imps and Sprites' as they call it. Cute. But not smooth.

Grace is resenting the move somewhat having got very comfy in the room at the end with her pals Sandy, Doromey and Lydia, and we're experiencing a bit of drama on a morning when we drop her off. By the time I phone at half eight, she's settled in fine and eaten her breakfast but for that nanosecond when I leave her it does rather tug at the old battle-hardened heart strings. Awwww.

She'll be fine.

I just wish she wouldn't cling to my leg for dear life.

Bye bye cot bars!

Stop press! Grace is sleeping in a bed! A moment of madness saw me asking Matt the Husband to do away with the bars and convert the cotbed into a bed.... the very first for Grace. So diddy, the bed, it's cute and we sat at the top of the stairs after lights out last night holding our breath and wondering if the silence was too good to be true. Mummy's little angel climbed in at the end of her bedtime routine, pulled the duvet up over herself, snuggled into the pillow hugging Mr Rabbit and let us turn the light out and leave the room without so much as a peep...
She woke up 11 hours later. A freakishly easy fluke perhaps?

Her daytime nap today was a similar affair. Walked out, shut the door and listened. She chatted to herself a while then it went quiet.... she woke up around 3 hours later. Hurray Henry! If only everything were this simple!! We were bracing ourselves for weeks of havoc - the only reason we started now was because we wanted Grace in a normal bed by the time we go on holiday in May. So the fact she hasn't even batted an eyelid makes me feel lucky... privileged even. Here's hoping potty training goes as smoothly. (I know I'm counting my chickens - there's a little bit of me sitting thinking 'I'm being too gobby here' and I bet I'm in for a night of bedtime bedlam, but as it stands at the moment it's quiet up there so all looking good!)

Grace learnt to nod this week too - she still prefers to shake her head but she's getting in some very vigorous looking practise. We've been out and about with the dog on walks in the early spring sunshine too. I'm aching from that today, so unfit that I am, but Grace seems to have endless energy which is wonderful to be a part of. Here's a few pics I wanted to share with you. Bye for now!

Feeling Hip in Mummy's hat

Stomping along, happy as larry.



Checking teddy is happy with the sleeping arrangements...

Super cute - Grace 18 months