Inquisitive

 

It was the best compliment someone had ever given to Tiger.

We are often told how cute she is, how smiley, how cool she looks in her little sunnies, how amazing her eyes are. We're used to that, and we know each of these comments is true - Tiger is an adorably quirky-looking baby , and a very happy one. We know that and we are proud of her happiness and her funny eccentricity. 

But the best compliment Tiger received was not about her looks or her sunny personality.

We were walking down the Very Long Road together and we passed an older man and his dog, sitting by the chemist. He smiled broadly at me and at Tiger. "Hello," he said to her, and to me he said, "She's an inquisitive little thing, isn't she?"

My heart swelled. Because it's true. Tiger is inquisitive. She's curious about the world, fascinated by everything: trees, flowers, birds, grass, carpet, shiny things, Mummy's necklaces, her own feet. Everything is amazing to Tiger. She loves exploring and discovering and working out how things tick.

I am unbelievably proud of this and I love watching her do it.

"Yes she is," I replied to the man. "Thank you."

He smiled again at Tiger and tipped his hat at me and I walked away hugging my little girl even more tightly.

She is cute. She is happy. But it's her ardent interest in the world around her; her constant thirst for knowledge that makes me most proud.

My girl is inquisitive. And it's wonderfully lovely.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

Every Little Thing Gonna Be All Right

There are times - often - when I worry I'm doing a bad job as a mum.

These worries mostly occur when I think about Tiger's daytime naps, which are still sporadic and still occur not in her bed but on top of me.

I worry I'm denying her the skill of being able to settle herself in a bed during the day (though she does a great job of it at night time).

There are also little things that make me question myself, on a day-to-day basis, like when Tiger gives herself a little scratch on the nose because I've missed a sharp fingernail, or when I knock something over and think "what would have happened if I'd knocked that on to Tiger"?

These are the thoughts that keep me up at night, the thoughts that occupy my mind and make me think "Deadbeat Mum".

But yesterday, as I shared with him one of my latest anxieties, Daddy Bear said something that shook me up and changed my perception of what really constitutes a worry.

"Twelve months ago," he said, "when we didn't even know if Tiger was going to make it, if you could see into the future and see that your biggest problem would be Tiger not sleeping well during the day, and that this bothered you so much, you would have thought, 'what a bloody idiot'."

Daddy Bear's words hit home. The fact that Tiger isn't a great daytime sleeper?

Not. A. Big. Deal. Not when you compare it with the struggle she went through to get here. She'll grow out of it. she gets to grow out of it because she is alive. She is also healthy and happy and, in the end, that's actually all that matters.

Don't worry about a thing, because every little thing gonna be all right.

It will be. Because Tiger is here. She is alive. And she is lovely.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

Sitting Tiger, Proudest Mummy

My little girl is Officially Not Little any more.

Not only is she in a Big Girl Car Seat and a Big Girl Pram AND a Big Girl High Chair, as of yesterday ...

SHE IS A SITTING TIGER!!!

All by her little self.

Sure, sometimes she does still randomly and without any concern for the Brains In Her Head, she hurls herself backwards, so a Mummy or Daddy arm needs to be as fast as a Shane Warne arm to ensure no big oopsies.

Sure she wobbles like a bowl-full of jelly.

Sure it makes her Very Tired Indeed, keeping her little self upright for long periods of time (it reminds me of someone learning to skateboard - it's still very much a balancing act for her), but ....

SHE IS GOSH-DARN DOING IT.

She just decided, yesterday, that it is something she would like to do, and so she did it.

Because that is how my Tiger rolls. She just sets her mind to something and by golly gumdrops, she does it and she does it GOOD.

Stuff all this "adjusted age" nonsense. Stuff "milestones might be all outta whack because she was born a touch early". Phooey to any sort of "special needs". Tiger is hitting this "being alive" thing right out of the park.

Yes, I'm proud. Yes, I'm being a Braggy McBraggerson.

But my girl?

She's every bit as awesomesauce as she is lovely.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

Summer. Tiger Style.

Yesterday was HOT in the city of Launceston.

The kind of hot I - and Poppy S - adore. The kind of hot Grandma V and Daddy Bear hate.

The kind of hot that makes all thoughts of productive days go out the window in favour of much sitting and lying down and Eating Of Cold Things.

I had grand plans for yesterday involving Boxes and Putting All Of The Things Inside Of Them.

In the end, what did Tiger and I do?

Erm. Notsoverymuchatall.

We stripped down to various stages of nakeyness (*shakes fist at people who decided babies can be nudey in public but grown-up peoples cannot*) and sat on the deck and ate cold pumpkin (Tiger) and cold cake (Cackle Mummy), and made sympathetic noises at suffering Mephy Danger.

We played some Taylor Swift and Cat Empire and Josh Ritter.

We worked on our crawling by wearing a Very Cute Watermelon suit, courtesy of Grandma V *.

We had a cool bath.

And then we ...

Oh no. Wait. That's about all we did.

And it was glorious. Summer days with Tiger are extra-especially lovely.

But, sadly, while it was a wondrous day for me and Tiger, people in the south of our beautiful state were suffering. Our thoughts and hopes go out to those who lost homes and businesses and to those who are still fighting horrible fires. Our hearts ache for the animals who were injured and died in the blazes.

Sadly, Summer can have an ugly side. Which is why small moments of bliss with those you love are so gosh-darn important. Life is fragile.

Beautiful moments in a sunbeam are what it's worth living and fighting and persevering for.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

* Ahem. Please see below for All Of The Cute.

FFS Friday

There aren't too many bad things in my life. How can there be? I get to spend all day with a glorious Tiger, the weather is sublime, I have books to read, CDs to listen to ...

But there are just a couple of slightly less than lovely things going on at the moment. Things that put the Fish in For Fish Fingers Sake. Here they are:

Parenting with glandular fever is hard. FFS

Parenting with migraines that have re-emerged is also hard. FFS

Parenting with glandular fever and migraines and a baby who has decided she doesn't want to sleep much due to teething is especially hard (though she is delightful when she's awake but NEEDS SLEEP). FFS

My new Taylor Swift CD appears to be faulty. FFS

I forgot to buy washing liquid at the supermarket yesterday, so I have to drag my glandular-fevery-migrainy bottom out to the shops today at some point. FFS

Thatisall. That is the bad stuff. And I'm letting it all go, because that's my mantra for this year and also because concentrating on the good stuff is so much nicer. And the good stuff is a cuddly, sleeping (for now) Tiger on my belly, a cup of hot-ish coffee beside me, and a day of sunbeams ahead of me.

UN-FFS-SAKE.

In fact, FAALS.

(For Actual, Awesomesauce Loveliness' Sake)

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

P.S. For more (hilarious) FFS, go to http://www.dearbabyg.com/

Thankful Thursday

Here are the things that mean something:

Tiger's enormous smile as she gazes up at me in her cot every morning.

Sitting with her in sunbeams, listening to pop music and watching her delight as a bird hops across the garden.

Her little belly, on show today as it's too warm for singlets.

The way she strokes my face, my hand, my arm, so gently, as I feed or cuddle her.

Her ability to change and adapt and take on new challenges without fear or fuss.

Her chubby little legs and ENORMOUS feet.

The long eyelashes that seem even longer in the sunlight.

The way she breathes more heavily when she's concentrating hard.

The cheeky little grin she gives me when she knows she's being naughty.

Her new "head on chest, bottom in air" cuddles.

Reading stories together, hanging out washing together, walking together, just being and breathing and existing together.

Squeals of delight, grunts of frustration, gurgles and coos and "ngahs" and "ayeeees" and "shmerrrs".

Me and Tiger.

That's what I am thankful for.

The rest doesn't matter.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

Letting Go

This morning, in the silvery dawning light, I held my still-sleepy baby girl tightly in my arms and kissed her fuzzy head as she made the noises of waking.

I stroked her hair. I kissed the funny little strawberry mark I love so much. 

I smiled at her.

She smiled back.

Her eyes were so, so blue.

"Ngah," she said. "I love you," I replied.

And in that moment I didn't give an Actual Hoot that I didn't do the vacuuming, or that we did not, in fact, do any packing while Daddy Bear was on holiday, or that the house is a bombsite, or that I had washing backed up, or that the kitchen floor needs mopping ...

I let it go.

I gave in to just loving her.

I let myself just be. Just enjoy her and not worry about the bad stuff.

Because I have all I need in that little smile and those big blue eyes and those squishy little arms.

She is everything.

She is a gift and a privilege and so, so, so, so ...

Lovely.

~ Love, Miss Cackle