La la laaaaa!
Patrick isn't rolling yet. I know it's not a competition, but my friend G whose baby (K) is three weeks older than Paddy told me K has been rolling for about 5 weeks now. This is probably because Patrick hates tummy time, so he never spends any time there to roll.
But Paddy has a far better skill.
On Saturday, I had just finished feeding him and had i-tunes going on the laptop next to me. Paul Kelly's "From Little Things" came on and so I started singing along. I don't have a great voice, but I love to sing. I'm one of those strange people you see in their cars singing away to their heart's content, oblivious to the world around them. So Patrick has been exposed to singing for all of his life both in- and ex-utero.
It shouldn't have suprised me then that he started singing too. I know what you're thinking, he was just babbling. Noooo. These were long, breath-long vowel sounds: "Aaaaaaah, ooooooooh" and the like. Not his usual "Hah, heh, ho, burlap". And when I stopped singing, so did he. When I started again, so did he. Yes, of course he was just imitating me, but that's an imitation of me singing.
And that's far better than rolling, in my book.
T and I regularly say that we don't care what he does in the future (as long as he doesn't join the army), and if it comes down to a choice, I'd rather have him intellegent than sporty (although, I should know that the two are not mutually exclusive- despite writing poetry about gloom and doom like any good goth in my youth I was also a state champion sportsperson. I just joined teams that had black uniforms. Or at least I wished I could).
On a different front, I am happy- no, I am overjoyed to report that the magical bonding has happened. He's my baby. He grew in my womb. I'm no longer waiting for someone to knock on the front door and collect him (although sometimes I wish they would). I can't believe how much and how deeply I love him. We were out for a walk the other day and came to a railway crossing; I knew there was no question if a train came I would save him and not myself. It's astounding (in a good way).
Bonding. It doesn't happen overnight, but it does happen.
But Paddy has a far better skill.
On Saturday, I had just finished feeding him and had i-tunes going on the laptop next to me. Paul Kelly's "From Little Things" came on and so I started singing along. I don't have a great voice, but I love to sing. I'm one of those strange people you see in their cars singing away to their heart's content, oblivious to the world around them. So Patrick has been exposed to singing for all of his life both in- and ex-utero.
It shouldn't have suprised me then that he started singing too. I know what you're thinking, he was just babbling. Noooo. These were long, breath-long vowel sounds: "Aaaaaaah, ooooooooh" and the like. Not his usual "Hah, heh, ho, burlap". And when I stopped singing, so did he. When I started again, so did he. Yes, of course he was just imitating me, but that's an imitation of me singing.
And that's far better than rolling, in my book.
T and I regularly say that we don't care what he does in the future (as long as he doesn't join the army), and if it comes down to a choice, I'd rather have him intellegent than sporty (although, I should know that the two are not mutually exclusive- despite writing poetry about gloom and doom like any good goth in my youth I was also a state champion sportsperson. I just joined teams that had black uniforms. Or at least I wished I could).
On a different front, I am happy- no, I am overjoyed to report that the magical bonding has happened. He's my baby. He grew in my womb. I'm no longer waiting for someone to knock on the front door and collect him (although sometimes I wish they would). I can't believe how much and how deeply I love him. We were out for a walk the other day and came to a railway crossing; I knew there was no question if a train came I would save him and not myself. It's astounding (in a good way).
Bonding. It doesn't happen overnight, but it does happen.
posted by jen at 3:52 PM
2 Comments:
that's great!
also, i forgot to mention, i love the red coat below.
Go grrrrrrl! I'm so happy you've bonded nicely now and can reap the rewards instead of feeling like you're toiling away for nothing. That must have been hell! I hope your PND eases up a bit for you too babe. Seth despises tummy time too. They tell you at the child health clinic that it does all these wonderful things for their neural development, eyesight and motor control - but they don't tell you how to stop the little buggar screaming when he's face down!
Also - I know you'll appreciate this - I've written to the anaesthetist telling him that I was upset at his fuck up of my spinal and have refused to pay the gap fee of nearly $400. He's already got the money from medicare and my health fund - I'm refusing to fork out cash for a service I wasn't happy with. It's unacceptable in my books (and probably yours) for him to ignore me telling him my tongue was numb and I was extremely faint AND then leave theatre before my case was finished. He shouldn't have messed with a post-anaesthetic care nurse. We get pissy when our SBP is less than 60.
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