Is it still early days?

We've just had Miri's 2nd Christmas. She is 19months old. This is very weird. Already I can't remember what life was like without her, but more than that, it's hard to imagine her not walking, being less communicative, or even being bald as she was last Christrmas! She is now VERY chatty, has quite a few English words and is just beginning to start putting them in 'sentences' - notably, "It's a baby" (addressed to anyone smaller than her!) "NO! Mine! and most adorably, "There's the moon!".

We'll be moving soon, and we've got the difficult task of working out what things can plausibly come with us, and what has to be sold or got rid of. We did a Baby Fair today, sold a few bits but didn't get rid of the stuff that takes up the most space annoyingly. And of course, we didn't leave empty handed. A significant proportion of the profits turned into a Ninky Nonk and Upsy Daisy. She is VERY keen on In The Night Garden. Which is a shame, because its awful. Not as eye-bleedingly, brain meltingly awful as Waybuloo, admittedly. I swear if Miranda starts talking in the third person or learns yogic flying, I will write Very Stern Letters to the BBC! Ahem. Worse, that show is also on in Canada!!! THERE IS NO END TO THE TERROR!!! I am trying to convince her that TV only happens for an hour a day. Unless Mummy is Very Tired.

Sadly, Mummy is Very Tired quite often. Miri is exhausting! I have had a massive shift from taking her to work in the cafe with me, working 50 odd hours a week AND doing the PhD, to not working at all and having her at home with me all day every day. She would probably be climbing the walls in the cafe nowadays anyway, but in there she at least had other people to amuse her. Now, every day involves finding ever new ways to entertain her, and inventing reasons to go in to town - to get out the house, but that doesn't involve spending money. We are painfully broke - but that is a different story. She has a ridiculous amount of energy - we have to stomp around town, only going where she wants to go - woe betide I try and do anything useful against her will, she lies on the floor, arms and legs flailing, runs off, breaks things, casually shoplifts etc. Then we go to the park, and she says BOO to geese, goes on the swings and generally exhausts me, or Rhymetime where she sings and dances and accidently assaults other children, or Cookie Tots where we get to cook and make a LOT of mess and sing silly songs, or, if I can afford it, Ball Pool and soft play which, unsurprisingly, she adores! Getting her dressed takes nearly 20 minutes and is harder than wrapping a greased squid in clingform. This does mean that it is virtually impossible to do anything I need to do though. It's taken me a week to get round to writing this blog!! Let alone start packing to emigrate!

Canada is in sight, so maybe, given that she is Big and Gallumpfing and chatty and the most brilliant toddler ever, I shall stop this blog when we move. These are not really her Early Days any more. But she is wonderful!

Long time no bloggy

and this isn't going to be a long one because I am knackered!

Darling child has been a beastling for most of the day. A beautiful, clever beastling, but a beastling none the less. I dared to go into Waterstones today. Miranda did not want to go into Waterstones, let alone sit in a queue. So, she kicked and fought until I put her down, then she laid on the floor writhing around and shrieking. When other customers commented on it ("Oh they're all like that at that age aren't they?" or "she's just asserting her independence" - and other, inane, irritating Waterstones-customer-style comments) - she just giggled and grinned her cheeky toothy grin, so it she was obviously doing it on purpose.
She also runs off when you don't want her to, then turns round grinning to check you are chasing her.

Tooth count: 10 full ones and 2 new molars poking through at the top. Decadent!

Vocabulary:
Mama
Dada
Bess (the bear)
MINE!
NO!
banana
ba-bye
hiya
boo
brum-brum (for cars, and also her scutter-bug thing)
Dog and Woof
Moo (at cows)
Fish!

She also understands far more words than we realise at times.. it is getting scary!!

She's 17 months old tomorrow, and we're flying out to Canada on Tuesday. My baby's gonna be a flappyhead!!!

Bad Baby!!!

Carl keeps wondering if Miranda is quite advanced for her age. I don't really know, she is just Miranda. Very definitely Miranda. Inimitably Miranda. She was walking just before her first birthday, she has MASSIVE feet, 7 teeth and about 5 words. Is this normal for a 14 month old?
Not that it matters really, as long as she is healthy and happy. All babies grow at different rates I reckon!

One thing that has come early though seems to be the Getting Cross and Screaming about it phase. I thought this was supposed to be The Terrible Twos? She just has phases of being a Little Beast. At the moment, the favourite games are Flatly Refusing to Eat When In The Highchair. She'll eat anything as long as she's sitting on my knee or running around the house with both hands full, but not in the high chair because schmeeeling food is restricted and there is a handy wipe clean mat underneath her. This is not funny. Neither is her neat little trick of rescuing icky things from out of the bin, such as greasy not-quite-empty tubs of marg or egg shells. Or getting outside and playing with the chain on Daddy's bike. Or ripping the pages of her favourite book. Or emptying my wallet all over the floor and trying to rip up the £20 notes. She actually knows that we don't like what she's doing though. She looks at me and the lip wobbles even before I've told her off or taken away the offensively sticky item - and then when we do scold, we get the whole guilt trip: Real Tears! big lip! howling! Being told off for flinging her bowl full of dinner all over the floor is the worst thing ever and who knows how she will cope with the trauma?!

More seriously (and in hindsight I am including these tales entirely for amusement factor, dear reader) she stole my front door keys the other day, took them out of my bag in the cafe, and I didn't notice. I pedalled all the way home, and had to sit on the step with her in the rain for 25 mins until Carl got home to let me in. I got in a complete panic because I honestly thought I'd dropped the keys out of my trike or left them actually in the door or something and was expecting someone to have got into the house.... I found the keys though. They were in the bottom of Miri's toybox in the cafe.

Today, I got home after a seriously rubbish day in the cafe (during which she wailed all afternoon out of boredom, poor baby, tipped a full bowl of porridge on the floor (she refused to eat it because she was sitting in the high chair at the time), stole a teapot and tried to microwave it, stole half a dozen sticks of sugar and deposited them around the place, tried to suck on the air freshner, played bongo drums with the lid of the nappy bin, and rearranged the books - by moving them from the shelf to the floor. When I got home, I went outside to get the soaking wet washing in, and she slammed the door on me, locking me out!! I had to eventually climb over our neighbours' fence, and tap on their back window to get them to let me through their house so I could get in my front door - I was lucky they were in!! I know she is just being a playful, experimental toddler, but it is getting infuriating!!

In a way, I feel for her. She is getting bigger, and she is realising that the world we provide for her isn't as big as it once seemed. Really hope all our Canada plans come together soon, so she'll have a whole new environment to explore! At the moment, keeping up with her and stopping her destroying things is completely exhausting!!

Oh Canada...

I miss my baby!!!

She is the other side of the world without me!! 
Miranda is staying with her Granny and Grandad (and by now, her Daddy as well) whilst I am in the middle of Canada, on a fact-finding mission and pseudo-job interview. We have actually have the very real possibility of making a new life out here and my mind is all over the place trying to process it all!

I reallly do not want Miranda to grow up in Darlington. There is just nothing there for us as a family; sure, we have some amazing friends and they are the only thing that has kept me sane and relatively contented for the past seven years. But, Darlington is scruffy and run down, the local council seem hellbent on making it worse, there are precious few job opportunities, certainly no graduate jobs. Starting a business here has proved almost impossible due to the total lack of support from the local authorities, and because everyone is broke and the location is so bad, I have too few customers having finally got my business open. The worst thing though, is the people who live around us. Chavs, basically. It's not really dangerous, but we get a lot of hassle - just being yelled at in the street and spat at, just because we dress differently or use long words or have jobs or ride tricycles or whatever else it is that offends these people so much. We've suffered petty vandalism, theft and general intimidation at the cafe as well, so it's not just our street being horrible. I hate it, it depresses me, and I don't want Miranda growing up in that sort of environment - to be bullied, effectively. I want her to be able to be exactly who she wants to be, without having to conform for fear of harrassment.

Yes, we could just move somewhere in the UK, but there are chavs in every town, and given our budget, I doubt we could afford to go anywhere that is chav-free. Of course, it also depends on jobs and opportunities and the housing market and so on and so forth. Whatever we do it's going to be stressful and expensive, so we thought sod it, WHY NOT EMIGRATE!?

Carl and I have been on about going to Canada for years anyway. He fell in love with the place when he cycled all the way across it, years ago before I met him. We went out together to Vancouver and Calgary and I loved it too, but of course, I only saw the touristy bits. But, in a bizarre series of events that are better explained on my coffee blog, I have a whiff of a job offer in Regina, Saskatchewan. So that is where I am.

The job is managing a brand new 'European-style' coffee shop and the owner seems just as daft as I am, given that he wants to employ me just on the basis of my British accent!! The cafe is lovely, (and huge) and it seems a great set-up. I can see myself having a lot of fun working there, and it won't be nearly as stressful as running my own place. That part is a very easy decision.

I have set myself the mission of exploring the rest of Regina as well this week, to see if I could imagine myself living out here with Carl and Miranda. That decision is going to be far harder. Most people's reactions, when I've told them this plan and then usually explained where on earth Regina is, think I am bonkers. Even the locals can't understand why anyone would WANT to move here given the choice. It really is in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the Prairies. I was trying desperately to see as much as I could out of the plane window when I flew in the other day, and just saw LOTS AND LOTS of wide open space, peculiarly regular square fields, tiny farm houses dotted about if I was lucky and the river snaking across the Nothingness. It was such as relief to finally see the city as we landed - you don't see it at all from the air until you are on top of it. It is huge (to British eyes) but it is certainly not hugely populated. There are about twice as many people here as there are in Darlington, but in what must be six times the space! Annoyingly, from my perspective, the spaces between places of interest are so vast, you have to drive, no one walks. I don't want to drive, especially since the trucks are all massive, everyone is on the wrong side of the road, and there are no roundabouts. I will bring my trike, that will freak people!! I ventured 'downtown' yesterday too, went to the only pedestrianized bit with a large shopping 'mall' in it. It was pleasant enough, but it was pretty quiet for a Saturday afternoon in mid-summer. Everyone warns me about the freezing winters here too: -40c have been known, and the snow stays for months...

On the upside though, it is very pretty, very green and very spacious. The houses are lovely: all wooden bungalows on tree-lined streets. I did wonder why so many are single-storey, but as Carl pointed out, why build up, when you can build out? We found a 6 bed house with a garden and basement for not much more than we paid for our 2 bed semi in Darlington. Even in winter, I can imagine these streets still look nice covered in snow too. And the sky is clear, open and enormous - plenty of scope (geddit??) for Carl's astronomy. There are lots of parks throughout the town, and then the biggest area of parkland in the country, the Wascana park, with a massive lake and canoeing and the heritage centre and so on... Miranda will have lots of fun. The whole place does seem more geared towards children too. All the parks have kids' play areas, and even in the mall, there were shopping trollies in the shape of cars and trucks for children to ride around in. There's even a lakeside beach!

And no Chavs to be seen. I even found a Goth shop. YAY!!

After three days, I am very nearly sold on this idea. It is going to be a huge, huge upheaval I know. but I do believe it is the right thing to do. I just wish I could've brought my beautiful baby out here too, and Carl - he has to help in making this decision as well and I would feel far more confident about it all if he could see what I am seeing at the moment.

The other major factor to consider is how far away we will be from friends and family. I do trust my friends to stay in touch - I have friends all over the world and  this is hardly the first time I've done one of these insane trips anyway, and some friends are just as prone to disappearing as I am. It is my parents that I worry about. It is a very long flight which they hate anyway, (although they'd probably love the winter!!). They are already moaning about us taking Miranda away. They don't like her being four hours away in Darlington, let alone 15 hours away in Saskatchewan! I hope they understand why we want to do this though - I get the impression they do, underneath, but it will definitely be a huge wrench.

They have finally learnt to use Skype, so I have been trying to wave at the screen and see Miri on their webcam. She is getting doted on and spoilt rotten I think. Mum also reports that tooth #7 is on its way, so she's been a bit grumpy. Otherwise, she is coping very well not only without her Mummy, but also without Boob. Obviously I've had to stop breastfeeding this week but after 13 months, I think I did damn well with it, and she will be absolutely fine without it now. My boobs have gone huge and tender and rock hard though!! NOT NICE. I look like I've had really bad implants put it and they got so painfully full that I had to go express some milk in the toilet on the plane! Seems to be settling a bit today finally, but definitely NOT a pleasant experience. I made a point of locating a Big Bra shop in Regina yesterday, just in case they never go back to their original size....

So, I have a few more days of exploring, then I'll be reunited with my little family. And unless something goes wrong - I find Canadian chavs, or my visa gets refused or something, Miranda may well grow up Canadian, eh:?Technorati Tags: Canada, travel, chavs, emigration, goth, teeth, breastfeeding,

One Orbit of the Sun Completed!

MIRANDA IS ONE YEAR OLD!!!

Really find that hard to believe! This time last year, I was just allowed out of hospital, and we wrapped her up in her minute car seat for the first ever trip home. She was very slightly orange (jaundiced) and had loads of spikey dark hair.
One year on, and she is currently rocking about on a large wooden snail, (thanks to Aunty Tattoo-Jo), swigging orange juice from her bottle, and singing "doobu-doobu-doobu ayaayuu" to herself in the play corner in my cafe (which also didn't exist a year ago!). She is very much a little person now, but even so, this year has just flown by.

Miri is more or less blond now, her hair seems to lighten in the sun just like her Dad's does. She is 74cm tall (at least, she was last time she kept still long enough to measure!), weighs just under 12kg, has size 5 feet (!!!) and four teeth.

Development-wise, she is walking!!!!! Well almost. We know she can do it, and we even have video evidence of this, but she still prefers not to because she is still quite wobbly, and crawling is still the faster, most efficient option. Nevertheless, the cafe is no longer my own and we have had to construct the Miranda Containment Facility to stop her getting in the kitchen in there! She is also saying "Mum" "Dada" and named her new doll "Diedre" (by holding it going "Deedree!). Unfortunately these words are applied indescriminately, so anyone she wants something from becomes "Mum" and anyone who picks her up for any reason other than food, becomes Dada. Otherwise, she is very chatty, and sings or talks to her toys quite happily in Miriese.

She's still having the occasional boob feed too. I am trying to stop this just because she has been known to BITE with her sharp new teeth, which is excrutiating. We have yet to find any sort of food that she won't eat too, so she doesn't really need breatmilk any more anyway. She regularly has a bottle of milky tea in the cafe with me. However, the other week I had a run in with an idiot doctor. I went to the doctors because I've been having migraines, he prescribed me something, but I asked if I could take it and still breastfeed. He was genuinely incredulous that I was "still" breastfeeding!! He already knew exactly how old Miranda was, but I was quite offended by his reaction. It may not be that common to be breastfeeding at a year old, but it is not unheard of, not abnormal or freakish and certainly not doing her any harm! Surely doctors should be encouraging me and supporting me, not practically ridiculing it? NOT IMPRESSED.

AAaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyway, on her actual birthday yesterday, we had a party in the cafe, and I invited all my friends with children, and also some of the customers that come in with kids. We had SO MANY show up!! Miri was spoilt rotten, as even people I didn't know very well brought presents for her. At one point we had 10 kids in the cafe, all under 6. I fed them all jelly and icecream and they raced around and played with all the toys in the cafe and blew party poppers at each other and made a glorious mess. Needless to say I am completely shattered today!!! Miranda managed a 20 minute sleep all day, the rest of the time she was too excited to even contemplate the idea of a nap. I don't get why she is so awake and boisterous today now! Granny and Grandad came up over the weekend too, and we went to a big play park which she loved, and they took her out while I was working in the cafe on Saturday, and I pedalled her about in the new seat (from the grandparents) on my new trike... all in all, a very exciting few days for a small girl!

Now, she has a rocking snail, a 'scramble bug' (ride on cute thing), lots of new clothes and books, a cuddly springbok from Auntie Karen in South Africa, various plastic noisy things, and Auntie Jopo had the sense to buy her two large toy boxes to put it all in! Carl decided she needed something Big to play in outside, so we got her a swing and slide set for the garden - she loves it!

The party was brilliant, and it was lovely that so many of our friends showed up to celebrate with Miranda. I don't think she actually understands the concept of "birthday" yet but she really enjoyed herself!! I am so proud of my "toddler"!! 

Long time no blog, and many changes!

Miranda is now ten months old...!
I have been rushed off my feet with the cafe and the Phd and every other mad scheme, and despite the exhaustion, I feel so lucky that Miri takes it all in her minute stride. She is very, very social, and really does appear to love the cafe. Most of my customers think she's wonderful, with total strangers commenting on how bright, alert and CUTE she is! Of course, she laps up the attention.

The third tooth is just about visible now, top right we think - it looks as though it will break through any day now.

Miranda is also talking - she babbles away happily to Carl and I, shrieking at things that annoy her or amuse her, gurbles intently at her toys, and makes emotive political speeches, accompanied by wild gestures and appropriately forceful table banging, from her high chair in the cafe. All of this is in Mirandese. She has got the hang of Ds and Bs and Gs - dadababagaga and her favourite: BooGURgoo. Annoyingly, she says Dada all the time but hasn't managed Mama yet. I changed her nappy the other day and I could swear she suddenly yelled "CABBAGES"! More worringly though, she came at me far too close the other morning, grabbed my hair with both hands and said "Braaaaains". Baby Zombie!! Aaaargh!!

At the end of February, we went to stay with Granny and Grandad for a week (leaving poor Carl behind.) They fussed over her no end, insisted on giving her a bath pretty much every night, and we got a Titch-hiker thing that lets her ride around on my shoulders which she adores! Meanwhile, I managed to finish the last chapter of my thesis. I love Miranda with all my heart, but sometimes she doesn't exactly help...:

We went to Miri's second Whitby Goth Weekend too, just for a day trip. Miranda wore a fabulous little Spider suit given to her by Ione Chapman complete with Velcro'd on extra legs. Whitby was a bit quieter than usual, but she had great fun meeting up with our extended goth family - and of course had her photograph taken ALL DAY. I bought her her first doll, a little 'Batling' like a Cabbage Patch kid but wearing black and with bat wings!

A few weeks ago, I also experienced my first Mothers' Day! Bizarre feeling really, I almost forgot it now applies to me. I send off a card to Granny, but then Carl  - I mean, Miri - bought me a Book of Cakes and a bib for Miri saying "Don't Laugh, She's My Mum".

The biggest news though is that MIRANDA IS MOBILE! She has been veryvery close to crawling for so long, but she hated doing it, much preferring me to bend double and walk her around holding on to my fingers. When I didn't want to give myself a bad back any more, she used to wail at me and complain instead of actually crawling. That was until four days ago. Suddenly she twigged and worked out what her knees can do. It really was a case of overnight mobility, on Thursday she was still getting cross when I didn't walk with her, then on Friday she was scooting about on all fours, making bids for freedom out of the front door, getting into the cupboards at work and cruising round the edge of the furniture. She can pull herself up on most things now and there has been plenty of bumped hea-ds and wailing - usually more out of surprise than pain. The floor comes up and bites her when she isn't looking! So Unfair!!

So, the cafe is no longer my own. Jo and I are constantly dreaming up Miri Containment Schemes (possibly involving picket fences - "it's ok as long as you call it a playpen and not a cage!"), and I am hunting for socket covers and feel as though I am constantly vacuuming after she distributes raisins and crumbs and bricks and various detritus around the place. 

 

My little Moomin Cheese is growing up!!

Miri's real blog

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Sleepy, sleepy baby!

So tired, but yet so determined to schmeal that shortbread all over the high chair...

Poor baby has been a bit grouchy recently with the Impending Teeth - she has a day of whinging and not wanting to do anything, then a rough night if we're really unlucky, followed by a very very sleepy day. Nowadays we have got Bedtime back to 9.30, (from 10.30-11pm!) but the disadvantage of that is her total lack of interest in nap time during the day! For why would she want to sleep when there are new people to stare at? Or places to explore in her Walker, where Mum doesn't let her go? Or bricks to bash together? Or sugar sticks to chew? Or paper to rip up and eat?

The midwife or health visitor person or whatever she's called was supposed to visit yesterday. I got a letter offensively addressed to "Parent of Miranda Townsend" (like she only has one), saying she wanted to visit Miranda "at home" on 'Thursaday" and to call if that was 'inconveinant'. I rang and said come down to the cafe instead, but no one showed up. Apparently she'd rung to say she couldn't make it - and claims she'd spoken to Miranda Townsend. I sincerely hope it was an interesting conversation but since Miri's vocabulary is currently limited to ahbababaga-oogaaaabu I can't imagine it was particularly enlightening. Then she said she'd left a message. No message on my answerphone, so I asked what number she'd rang. The number she said was wrong, so someone, somewhere in the Darlington area code has a message about my daughter on their answerphone. Seriously unimpressed.
However, in someways it is a relief. I really couldn't be bothered talking to the idiot woman, I don't see why Miri needs a check up - I haven't yet left her in the pub or anything, and as far as I can tell she is still a Baby. What else is the midwife really going to tell me? Maybe the cafe is not the easiest, comfiest place for her to grow up - but if not in there with me, where should she be? I hate having to justify myself to silly healthworkers, no matter how well-intentioned they may be - there's just no need. Apparently I am going to get another letter (probably equally full of typos) to arrange another visit in March now. I can hardly contain my enthusiasm. I think I may have to let Miri demonstrate her excellent new biting skills....

Toofs!!!

24th January 2011, aged 7 months and 11 days... MIRANDA HAS TEETH!
Two appeared at the same time, bottom front. She has been practicing GNASHING them for the past week and they are extremely sharp! She has only nipped me once whilst feeding, but ye gads.... that hurt.

She also has a Walker thing in the cafe now. She is still determined not to crawl (put her on her front, and she gets frustrated and bawls!) but she can get quite a speed up in the walker! Legs are doing the right thing, but without the walker support the balance isn't quite there yet. I foresee months of Carl and I staggering around like croquet hoops holding her up while she gets the hang of it all...

Oh, and apparently I should have been reading up on "baby-led weaning." This is, essentially, baby eating exactlywhat she wants, when she wants it. Which is exactly what Miranda does. (favourite at the moment being naan bread). I am supposed to have read magazines and baby books to tell me how to let her do it.

My baby walks and has teeth and has dinner with us and I am sooooo proud of her!!

Christmas and Cafe

As mentioned briefly in the last post, we have Afternoon Tease cafe up and running!! I am utterly exhausted, but it is getting there, I am proud of it, and I am also so, so proud of Miranda. She has been coming in to work with Mum every day, and she is so good in there. It is sometimes difficult because when I have a rush of customers, I have to put Miri down and give other people my attention, which she occasionally objects to; but fortunately I have the ever-lovely Auntie Jo to help me out and sing songs about Hippos to her. For the most part though, Miri seems quite happy in there. We have constructed her a play corner, with her soft mat, things to bash, a train set, cuddly toy collection, bricks, a knitted tea set, high chair, and now a proper baby change so she can have her bum cleaned in a more dignified fashion. She slurps on her babycinos in there and orders me about from the high chair, and gets fussed over by friends and strangers. I think, she is interested enough in people and new faces, that she shouldn't get too bored in the cafe. A lot of people, even total strangers, have commented that she seems such a contented baby. I do feel lucky that she is so easy to look after and happy to amuse herself at such a young age.

She is a very social baby though, as became evident over Christmas. We aimed to have a quieter Christmas than normal because it was the first one with Miri, but we still ended up covering half the length of the country visiting relatives. So weird to see family who hadn't yet met Miranda! She was spoilt rotten, unsurprisingly. Of course, the wrapping paper was much more interesting thatn the presents, but she got some lovely stuff. Carl got her a huge bag of bricks and she loves chewing them and bashing them together. Lots of books too, including the Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling. I remember them from when I was young, and I love reading them to her! She also ate and ate and ate, scoffing blended up Christmas dinner including sprouts, and fruit salad and trifle and even a Christmas tree shaped chocolate and bits of popadom and raita when we went for a curry on New Year's day.

She had such an exciting week that she was refusing to go to sleep at night in case she missed something. This began to get ridiculous, especially when I only managed to get her to bed at 11.50pm on 31st Dec, having allowed her to toast 2011 with pineapple juice in her new beaker beforehand. Poor baby was exhausted though because as soon as we got home (we were staying with her Granny and Grandad), she crashed out and slept for 13 hours. It was so lovely sharing in her first Christmas, I hope she enjoyed herself too!

The Musings of Miranda Dione, aged 6 months

Miranda has learnt to type!

 

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Isn't she a clever girl?! 

This does of course make doing anything on the computer - chatting on Facebook, my accounts, even my thesis, very, very difficult. Miri is not stupid. She can see that Mummy and Daddy spend a lot of time playing with computers or phones, and so they must be interesting for her as well. She wants to join in with everything I do!

In some ways, this is a useful development. We have finally got the Afternoon Tease cafe open and so Miranda accompanies me to work every day and STARES at people in the cafe. Her Granny knitted her a soft tea pot and some coffee cups and cakes and things, so she really can copy what I do, or shriek instructions at me from her high chair. She is instantly fascinated every time a new person comes into the coffee shop, and most of the time, she seems quite content in there which is fantastic. She is so good! And everyone admires her which makes me so proud.

The other major development that has taken place in her 6th month has been her sudden love affair with FOOD. Real food. Mummy-Milk is no longer enough. She is growing fast (achingly heavy to carry, nowadays!) and needs more than I can give her which unfortunately means I am constantly knackered and dehydrated - not great when starting a new business as well! We have been blending up what Carl and I have for dinner in the evenings, so Miri's tried pureed spag bol, rice n beans, roast dinner, mash and peas, lasagne and so on. I only sell sandwiches in the cafe, and I can't blend sandwiches, so I've been buying jars of baby food for there. She's on "stage 2" jars already - the stuff with lumps in and can get through 3/4 of a jar a day, plus a home made meal in the evening, and at least five milk feeds too. I am not sure if this is a growth spurt again or just what happens at six months. Still, she is easy to feed. Again, if she can see us eating, then she wants to, and so far she has eaten and enjoyed everything we've given her - with the exception of scrambled egg. I suppose it must be the texture she objects to, given that she eats boiled egg quite happily. But I can't see her ever being a fussy eater, and that can only be a good thing!

It is so hard for me to believe she is 6 months old already though. It has gone so quick. I don't want her to grow up too fast, I love her just the way she is: beautiful, bright, happy, alert, curious and adventurous. I am so, so proud of her!

Babycino

And Miranda herself enjoying her Babycino #afternoontease on Twitpic
CUTENESS.

PhD Mums

It is December, and unbelievably, my baby daughter is nearly 6 months old, and my maternity leave from my PhD is over. I am now faced with the daunting prospect of returning to Sheffield and writing up the last few chapters of my thesis before my new submission date of March 2011. It still seems a world away! Once upon a time, I naively thought that having six months away from the thesis would give me a fresh perspective on it all when I returned. As it is, I've almost decided that everything I wrote before is now rubbish and feel the need to redo it all.
One thing I am looking forward to is the 'brainwork' required for a PhD. Not that motherhood is a brainless activity, far from it; I have learned so, so much about babies, about myself, my capabilities, and also about my parents which I didn't anticipate. But PhDs require a high level of concentration, the ability to focus entirely on such a specific topic in such detail, that you seldolm get to use those skills in 'normal' life - if caring for a 5 month old, very alert, curious baby can ever be considered normal to other students.
The hard part is going to be the juggling; caring for my daughter and giving her the attention she needs and craves as well as writing something that actually has to make sense. I am very proud of my baby, but I do want to be proud of my thesis as well. My priorities have changed, perhaps inevitably, but I remain determined to finish and be Doctor Mummy, even if most of the thesis is written during "nap time"!

A "tame" weekend

Miranda coped fine with the plane ride back from South Africa, we were utterly exhausted, Auntie Jo had looked after the house and it's furry inhabitants with no problems, and we finally put Miri to sleep in her own cot again, had a sauna and managed to get some sleep. The problem was then, how on earth do we top these last two weeks? I am worried that she will no longer be content with my normal routine as it pales in comparison with globe trotting, and she'll get bored. I suffer the same - every time I go away, it is harder and harder to come back. I worry we have inadvertantly passed on itchy feet syndrome to our baby daughter...

Jopo and Grarr

This weekend was not exactly "normal" however, as it was Whitby Goth Weekend. We had our one night at home, and then drove straight to a self-catering cottage my Mum had hired for the weekend at Runswick Bay just outside Whitby. Booking anything actually inside Whitby is impossible since everything has been booked up for months, but this place slept my parents, us with Miri in a cot in our room, and Jo and Graeme who came along too, following us on the bus. We got lost but not majorly lost, but it turns out there is absolutely no phone signal there, so when Jo and Graeme missed their connecting bus and turned up an hour and a half after they said they would, they couldn't phone us, and we had to scour the tiny village trying to find a public payphone! Help! Wilderness!
I love Whitby Goth Weekend. It is daft really, because we don't really do much when we are there. There are bands on, a club night and occassionally other evening events, but I have only ever bought tickets for the evening events once and then decided it wasn't worth it. During the day we dress up and pose and be silly, then go round the stalls at the Bizarre Bazaar shopping for outfits for the next Goth Weekend. Then we eat fish and chips and get nicely tipsy (or worse) in our big gang of friends, which gets bigger every year. Carl never used to dress up at all, prefering to "be an individual" and look normal amongst the sea of freaks. He is slowly getting to it though, particularly steampunk styles!

Of course we dressed Miranda up too. On the Friday she was our Devil Child with red lined cape and a horned red hat. The next day she was all in black and purple; her Granny has supassed herself knitting a little Victorian dress, bloomers, cloak and lacey bonnet. She looked amazingly cute and we got paparrazzi'd all day! There are always hundreds of goth-spotting photographers there but despite our best efforts with my indecently short dress, the multitude of corsets and chris's spikey goggles, Miranda got more attention than the rest of us combined.

Herein lies the rub: should I really be inflicting my own dress sense on Miranda? I am fairly certain she will be extremely embarrassed about these pictures, and pretty much everything about her Sad Old Goth parents when she's older. But really, what is the alternative? She may just as easily grow up to hate pink or pastel colours and will still be embarrassed by us even if we both dressed ourselves and her "normally". I've already written about inflicting femininity on her and I don't really see it as any different. When she is older, she can choose for herself whether she wants to come to Goth Weekend with us, but until then she can be Mummy's Little Vampire, and be admired all over Whitby!

Making an Impact

Today we are in Paris, or rather, Parys.

Parys is a small town within the Vredefort Dome. Not, as I thought, a huge stadium, but the valley of the biggest impact crater in the world. Carl studied the Vredefort impact crater for his undergrad thesis, meticulously mapping the whole area and making 3D models. Carl is supposed to have had his name immortalised in the Vredefort museum as he had donated some stuff to it, but sadly the museum project appeared to have run out of funding and hadn't actually opened yet. So Miranda couldn't see her Daddy's claim to fame unfortunately!

It is difficult to tell that we were standing in an inverted 'dome' though. The area is so huge, you can barely see the edges of the impact structure. The small hills in the distance are the first ring, with others behind it forming geological ripples rolling out from the crater. We did find the tiny Parys museum, run by a very enterprising woman who knew very little about the area's geology but wanted to learn and took down as much info as she could from Carl. The museum had everything from Voortrekker costumes and potjiekos pots, to a very early contraption that made stockings, to bits of shattercone rocks from the impact. Who knows, if we come back, there may be Carl's maps on display next time!
The rest of Parys was a friendly little town, with for some reason, more than it's fair share of antique shops! I found a good coffee shop which did a 'Jozi Blend' of African coffees, and Miranda got foam off my cappuccino all round her mouth. I also finally got to try 'bunny chow' which I have been searching for since we got here. It is a spicy lamb stew with veg, but bizarrely, served up inside a hollowed out loaf of bread! Guess what? Miri liked that too - the bread at least.
By a stroke of luck, we found an absolutely brilliant place to stay. We had a bit of trouble because a place we'd looked up on what passes for mobile internet here couldn't take reservations over the phone and we had to email. We then couldn't find it, and asked in the Parys tourist office, who advised us not to stay there anyway but wouldn't say why! Instead, we took a chance and rocked up at a place called Rietpoort cottage. It was perfect! Beautifully decorated and we got the whole cottage to ourselves, but it could sleep up to seven. It was on a working farm, and in the morning we were greeted by a herd of friendly cows and the four farm dogs that accompanied us everywhere - Miranda was completely fascinated!
The weather has been gorgeous, so sunny that Miri woke up at 5.30am and refused to admit it wasn't morning since the sun was streaming into her room. We went for a hike around the rest of the farm grounds that afternoon and it was wonderful just seeing the view and appreciating the sheer amount of space there. I got my feet eaten alive by huge red ants, and I bravely carried Miri around in the sling, covered in kiddy factor 50 suncream and with her daft sun hat falling over her eyes every few minutes. She started whining every time we stopped for a rest: "keep going mum! Come on! Faster!", but by the time we got back to the cottage, she'd nodded off!
That evening, Carl did an excellent braai outside the cottage, watched by the dogs hoping for bits of wors (sausage). Miranda eventually fell asleep again watching the fire after demanding some of the potato salad. The perfect end to an amazing trip!

Johannesburg

Methinks South African grandad is rather fond of Miranda. We are back in Johannesburg staying with Les and Alana for a few days, and they are both doting on her -according to Alana she is the "best baby in Joburg" and Les is taking photos of her every few minutes on his phone. Even the dogs seem to like her! She has had an exciting few days as well. We were so hot and tired when we arrived from Nelspruit that we went for a swim in Alana's pool. Again, this was far too cold for the poor scrap and she yelled, and could only be appeased with the promise of a hot bath later on. Miranda REALLY likes baths. She sploshes about and even swims if it's deep enough, it is indescribably cute! I think she is enjoying this trip, there is so much for her to take in that I worry she is going to be bored when we get home and back to what passes as our routine!
We took her down to Hartebeespoort dam yesterday because there are loads of craft stalls down there and a touristy market. We needed to find a giant wooden giraffe for the Other Grandparents, obviously. Miri was utterly in awe of the craft market - so many colours and strange sights and sounds, and icecream to try and people admiring her. We bought her a mobile made out of banana leaves and Alana treated her to a little pink babygrow with a lovely cute zebra on it.

She has also been eating more strange things. It was Les's birthday on Friday and we took him out for a meal at The Meat Company (what a surprise!). Miri loved it, lots of bright lights, and she tried creamed spinach, mashed potato, the creamy garlic sauce off my (delicious) steak, and a naughty bit of my amarula coffee. You can only wash enormous steaks down with one thing in this country - very good pinotage wine. Miranda's eyes were fixed on everything we ate and drank, she even drooled at Carl's 500g T-bone. She saw Alana's wine glass, and that was it, she WANTED it. Fortunately she hasn't yet got the coordination to actually drink from it, but she did chew the edge of the glass, dribbling happily. It's kind of sad in a way; I love the way she copies us, but she gets frustrated when her hands don't do what she wants them too, and I feel so sorry for her! Alana came to the rescue and took her for a walk around the mall, in a thinly disguised attempt to show her off to some friends she met on route. By the time she came back, Miranda had crashed out asleep on her shoulder.
Les and Alana are thinking of moving back to the UK, specifically Alana's native Newcastle (yep, small world!). Whereas that would be lovely to have them so much closer, I think they might be in for a bit of a shock. One of the most striking things about Joburg is the vast differences between rich and poor here (a division on racial lines as well as economic!). Alana does not like this photo:

this is the view that greets you driving into Joburg from Nelspruit. It is infact the Alexandra township, not an area average Joburgers really want to show off as typical of their city. There are far worse areas too. We went over to see Lindsay, Gerhard and the kids again, and got lost, even with the Satnav. When we saw the turn off to Tembisa, another township, we realised we'd gone too far. Lets just say it was fairly obvious Lindsay didn't live out there.

In stark contrast, we met up with Clive, another old school friend of Carl's, and his new husband Frank at a veryveryvery posh shopping mall to have "brunch". Brunch involved a lot of guacamole for Miranda, quesedillas for us (which they insist on pronouncing "kwes-ed-dill-ers", not "kessed-eeyas") and lots of promises to keep in touch with her new Gay Uncles. It was lovely to see them, but I was half hoping Miri would do another Pootrastophe to help lower the tone in that place! Very posh, very exclusive, expensive and crying out for a good nappy filling session.
Unfortunately, but not unsurprisingly, the crime rate in Johannesburg is shockingly high, and so to maintain shopping centres like this place, or Alana's beautiful and large house, you need a ridiculous amount of security measures. Alana's house has automatic sliding gates with spikes on them, and an "armed response" burglar alarm. Even Lindsay's house had a similar sliding gate topped with razor wire. Their neighbour has a huge rottweiler and a sign on the gate saying "trespassers will be eaten". The whole effect is to make it feel as if they are all living in their own self-made prisons! I find it quite depressing actually, although I can understand why it is necessary - Les and Alana survived a horrific armed robbery recently. If they do come back to Britain, at least they won't have that to deal with. But then again, if they come back, they are not going to be 'rich' anymore, even in Newcastle. I have caught myself thinking it would be lovely fo Miranda to grow up out here; if not Joburg, then maybe somewhere like Nelspruit or Hazyview. It is lovely, if it weren't for the crime rate. Or the snakes.

Full of beans!

I found coffee!! Or rather, a lovely lady called Veronica found me coffee. Carl went to school with Veronica about twenty years ago, and through the wondrous medium that is Facebook, they were able to get back in touch. Veronica is now married and has a son called Joshua and an adopted daughter called Thembi. They live about an hour away from Karen and co in Hazyview, so we toddled off up there to introduce Miranda. I get the impression Carl quite likes showing off his beautiful little daughter!

Veronica had got in touch previously about Sabie Valley Coffee Farm - obviously one look at my Facebook page told her that I am a coffee geek. So far I have been starved of good coffee since I've been here! I had a few at a chain coffee shop called Mug and Bean, which were fairly decent (though on quantity not necessarily quality, I got a "bottomless" cup and drank three while I had the chance!). Karen is convinced it is bad for you and won't drink it, but that could be because she only buys "Frisco" - instant soluable "coffee" with chicory in it. I have braved it on occasion this week just because I am feeling caffeine deficient, but I really wish I hadn't. Yuk. Vile creation.
So, I was really surprised to hear about Sabie Valley, I had no idea South Africa produced any coffee at all! Turns out, they produce a whopping 50 tons a year, if they are lucky. The owner, Tim, didn't say if his was the only coffee farm in the country, but did say that many had given up farming the stuff during the early 90s price crash. Sabie Valley only survived by starting to roast the coffee and open the farm as a tourist attraction. Tim told the same story that I've heard all over the world: that there is no money in growing coffee, all the profit is in roasting and import/export.

The 8 hectares of Sabie coffee are all arabica, and harvesting here takes place between March and May, so of course we missed it, but I did get to show Miranda some baby coffee trees and she tried the strangely sweet fruit. I did try and explain my waste project, and found that, interestingly, they do not use the fruit as fertilizer, as they've found it just attracts too many pests. In all the excitement, I forgot to ask what happened to the water used for washing the coffee. The Sabie river runs through the bottom of the farm, and Veronica had packed us a picnic to have by the river bank. We had all gone swimming in the river too, and Miranda taught us a new word: "gur-yarhur", meaning "It's cooooold!" Poor baby! The water was clean and clear, and I couldn't see any obvious signs of coffee farm run-off, but Veronica warned us not to swallow the water for fear of 'belhalzier' disease. I neither know what that is nor how you spell it but it does not sound fun!

We had gone swimming because it was stinkingly hot, over 30 degrees. Although the roasting room smelled amazing, it proved too hot for poor Miri and Veronica took her outside to play with Thembi. Tim does his own "bushveld" roast, somewhere between medium and dark roast. Of course I had to try it all, and it was good, very earthy and nutty like most of the African coffees I've tried. Carl's favourite. I think I preferred the dark roast though, it had more flavour. I was talking so much as ever, that I never got round to trying the espresso. Doh. Nevertheless, we washed it down with huge slabs of chocolate cake, which Miranda enjoyed a great deal.
I came away having met a new friend in Veronica,  another coffee-geek, 4 bags of beans, slight sunburn, and a very sleepy daughterling. A brilliant day. We even saw a barn owl when we got back to Karen's too!

New Experiences

Yesterday we saw hippos! Shaun took us down to the river ('Crocodile River') that runs through the farm, and there were 17 hippos in a big family group, splopping about in the water and occasionally surfacing to bask in the sun. Magnificently ugly beasts. They definitely knew we were there, and kept eyeballing us from a respectful distance, but were otherwise unbothered. Miranda glowered at them for a while and then decided she wanted feeding. Milk is still far more interesting! This is why I am taking thousands of photos and writing these blog posts - sadly Miri won't remember any of these experiences. It may well be a good thing; the other morning we nearly ran over a huge black mumba snake lying in the road and it reared up at the car!! Freaked me out totally but fortunately Miri remained completely oblivious.

One new experience she is getting to try though is solid food, specifically, South African solid(ish) food. Karen seems to think, at four months, I shouldn't be breastfeeding as much as I do and we should be weaning her. I have noticed that Miranda takes an interest in what we are eating and everything she grabs goes straight in her mouth anyway. And she needs to cut this first tooth that is growing on something, I guess. I think my milk maybe tasting slightly different too: the South African diet is basically meat, meat, more meat, a bit more meat for extras and a portion of meat on the side. All red meat, too though Shaun graciously allowed some chicken (well marinated, of course) on the most recent braai. We are not giving Miranda any meat besides braai-flavoured milk, but we are giving her little bits of our food to try. She liked bits of potato and mayonnaise from potato salad, tiny pieces of tomato, baked beans, banana and yellow rice from when I tried babotie (a Cape Malay dish of a sort of spiced meatloaf with raisins in, topped with an egg custard and served with yellow rice and plaintain - odd but delish!). Of course I know these things aren't good for her, but we gave her such tiny amounts it couldn't do any harm. She seemed VERY keen though!

In the cause of being sensible and healthy, we bought her some 'Purity' first baby foods, as recommended by Lindsay, a vegetable one and a fruit one, and bravely tried to feed her with her favourite green rubber spoon. At first, she was more interested in the spoon and tried to chew it, meaning the orange goo just went straight down her front. But little by little, the vegetable one disappeared over three feeds. The fruit one was not a success, but she still ate a bit of fresh banana too.
Karen took us to the nut factory, where they process all the locally grown nuts and some fruits. The factory shop sells huge bags of the things very cheaply, so we stocked up. I got a big bag of dried fruit - apricots, apple slices, peach halves etc to try Miranda with. A few pieces of apple disappeared and then she got very very attached to a slice of peach, just sucking on it and producing copious amounts of orange drool. We wandered round this little place with lots of craft shops and a winery, and I bought her a handmade cuddly warthog. We sat down to have some lunch and the floodgates suddenly opened. Too much dried fruit and vegetable goo on a little stomach adapted to a milk-only diet does not produce pretty results!! Two explosive, brown lumpy nappies in quick succession... Ew ew ewww. Worse, the apple appeared to have gone straight through her, whole and undigested. Sign enough, we think, that maybe poor baby isn't quite ready for solid foods. However, the look of pride and satisfaction on her face after filling those nappies was priceless!

Billingualism

Miranda was born in Darlington, Co. Durham, to parents born in Sheffield and Wakefield. This makes her a genuine northerner. I am very proud of this. However, I really hope she doesn't end up with a Darlo accent!
I can't decide if i'd prefer that to her having a South African accent though, not that that is really likely. I just cannot get used to it. Carl's dad has this strange combination of Yorkshire with a strong Afrikaans twang. Alana, originally from Blythe in Newcastle sounds completely South African now, to the point of constantly referring to Carl's dad as 'Liz' not Les!! Karen is British born as Carl was, and her husband Shaun is from a German family, but you would never know it now. We were greeted with cries of "howzit boet?!" before being offered braai with 'brud' rolls and "lettuss", and before long even Carl had flattened his vowels and was talking about the British favourite of "fsh un chups".
Lindsay's eldest daughter, Olivia started jabbering away to us in Afrikaans until Lindsay firmly told her to speak English. Gerhard is Afrikaans born and bred, and he speaks it to the children at home, so it is easy for them to pick up. Over here too, kids have to learn both English and Afrikaans at school, so most stand a fairly good chance of growing up billingual. Olivia is being home schooled in both languages as she is not yet school aged (They very sensibly don't start school til they are 6 here). I can't teach Miri Afrikaans, although Carl can try, but I can speak to her in Spanish as best I can, and I hope she picks it up. Supposedly if she learns more than one language now, her brain is 'set' to be able to learn more in the future, and she won't find it as hard in later life to pick up other languages.

The 17th October was Olivia's 5th birthday, and we got her a kid's mini laptop with some little games with it. She absolutely loved it! Gerhard was a bit worried that she would turn into a computer addict and urged her to play outside instead, - a view I can agree with if he hadn't then started playing games on his mobile! But the laptop games are at least vaguely educational. One is a translator with silly games that should teach her a bit of Spanish. I hope to hear her speak a few words when we next see her! (which will probably be when she's 8 or 9, sadly!)
Miranda seemed to love seeing her cousins though; (technically they are her first-cousins-one-removed, I think.) Olivia is such a sweet little girl and really tried to play wth Miri, dancing her cuddly Pirate in front of her and so on. Abi wasn't quite sure what to make of her, I think, and they both stared in wonder at each other for quite a while. I got a few cuddles with Gabriel too but he is too small to take much notice of Miranda. The vast majority of the time he was asleep, feeding or being burped anyway. When I did hold him though, it felt so strange - I know Miranda must have felt like that a few short months ago, but he felt so tiny! It is amazing how quickly they grow and change.
I have really enjoyed being around so many small people and it is lovely to see Carl playing with them all so well. Maybe there will be more tiny cheeses in the future... The distant future, that is.

Nelspruit/Mbombela

Today involved a mightily long journey from Johannesburg to Nelspruit to the farm where Shaun and Karen live. Shaun maintains all the machinary on a massive orange, avocado and macadamia nut farm, and they live on site. The place is absolutely amazing from our point of view, so lush and green. The perfect place for a kid to grow up, too. At the moment, Carl's neice, Lindsay is here as well. Lindsay is technically Miranda's only first cousin, but there is an age gap between them of 23 years! Lindsay is now married to Gerhard, and has three kids, Olivia (nearly 5) Abigail (15 months) and Gabriel (5 weeks!). So poor Karen has a houseful of babies!

Our journey should have taken us four hours, and would have done if it weren't for South African roads. These parallel Peruvian roads in their ridiculousness. The main free way out of Joburg has four lanes in either direction, and seemingly no speed limit. Worse, no one has any sense of lane control either, and we were frequently overtaken on both sides at once, which was more than a little unnerving. Outside Johannesburg, it got worse: two lanes in either direction, again with no lane control but also, no central reservation, so if you wavered over the painted line just a fraction, you could end up hitting a truck coming head on at 120kmph!
Of course, this sort of system invites accidents, and about 20 miles outside Nelspruit, we got stuck. We never found out exactly what happened, but whatever it was involved the police, ambulance and a massive tow-truck to remove the cars involved. And then they closed the road. Everyone still on the road (ie, us!) just had to sit there and wait for it to clear. We moved about 100 yards in 45 minutes!!! Aaargh. Poor Miranda had been asleep while the car was moving but woke up as soon as we stopped in the traffic jam. She was bored and hungry and had filled her nappy, and was highly pissed off. Her pissed off cry is deafening, but there was very little we could do about it at that point!We eventually got through the accident zone, and then promptly got lost. There is a new road, built for the World Cup stadium over the summer, which completely bypasses Nelspruit, and once you are on it, you can't get off. And there are no sign posts at all because they are trying to change the name from Nelspruit to Mbombela, and all the signs say Mbombela and we didn't realise it was the same place. And of course, my phone was rapidly running out of batteries, so we couldn't call Karen for directions for longer than a few minutes. And it was getting dark. And Miri was yelling her head off....

Once Carl had realised we were on the new road, he exercised his right as an almost-local to Insane Driving, and did a U-turn on the dual carriage way (sometimes the lack central barrier is a useful thing!). We randomly found a drive-thru KFC and parked there, tried to pacify Miri, and got Shaun and Gerhard to come and rescue us! Turns out we were incredibly, frustratingly close to where we needed to be, and that this new road actually cuts through part of the farm!! Never mind. We were welcomed with beer and yet more braai (exceptionally good boerewors!), and all three kiddies. Last time I saw them, Olivia was only 18 months old, and the other two hadn't even been thought of. Olivia is now a beautiful, sweet little girl and very much her own person, Abi has the most expressive face I've ever seen on a toddler and lovely spikey strawberry-blonde hair, and little Gabriel looks so tiny and sleepy in comparison with Miranda who is only 3 months older than him. Surreal. Miri seems fascinated with her new cousins though and got over the trauma of the long car journey very quickly when she had been fed, changed and became the centre of attention again! I think she will enjoy her stay here.