Cousins and Siblings (or News thereof)

"Ok, everybody! Watch me!" as Tara would say: Watch me and my cousin "Baby" Maja and tell me if you can see any similarities between us!
Honest, if you find one I'll blame it on the photographs, because I really can't see one at all, and it's nothing to do with the fact that Tara is twice her age now that Maja has come over to spend the summer (or rather two weeks thereof) with us.
Hang on, they both like baby dollies... and the cars... and the dolly pushchair... and, well, everything that the other gets to first, really... or maybe it's more a case of Tara spontaneously realising how much she likes and needs this very instant the things Maja has just decided to want to play with... oh, I'm not sure... I think I'll just stick with: my, how different they are; it's amazing!



Still, the occasional little struggle or pinch can't hurt their overall affection for each other. Maja screeches with delight when she lays eyes on Tara in the morning, and Tara is wanting to know exactly where Maja is when she gets up in the morning or comes home from nursery. Maja likes to express her fondness for Tara in spontaneous big hugs (Tara's not fond), while Tara keeps an eye on Maja and tries to make sure she does not hurt herself: "No, Maja you can't go outside, there's no grown-up outside, come back inside!" (Maja is not impressed).


Tara will make an excellent big sister! (And I realise how glad I am there's a significant age gap of over 3 years!)
Talking of which, we've been to our 21 week scan at which an elderly scan lady went over every layer of baby she could get hold of to confirm that our baby was of perfectly average appearance, of perfectly average health, and of perfectly average size - I didn't need her to tell me that I was having a perfectly average preganancy with perfectly average levels of discomfort, weight gain, mobility issues and slightly above-average skin problems. Tara in turn didn't need the lady to tell her that our baby is a perfect baby boy. Just like she knew I was having a baby before I realised, she knew she was having a baby brother, and had told us so matter-of-fact when asked on the way in.

Waiting for baby's 21-week scan

I guess that means noone will fight her for her dollies and dolly push chairs on a regular basis in the near future. Great news, isn't it?

And on that note we're off to Germany for the next two weeks, to eat a fresh Italian ice cream every day, and of course, to check out Maja's toys. Bet you there'll be something worth fighting over!

Snap: Newsflash

See that sweet little open mouth? It's somewhere in the middle of listing people Tara wants to marry. The conversation went like this:
Tara: I'm gonna marry Daddy!
Me: ARE you?!
Tara: Yeah. I'm gonna marry Papi. And Mami. And Tante Claudia. And Kajina, and Maja, and Onkel Derek. And Daddy, and the tree (!), and Papi. Like Cinderella and the prince.

A strong contender for statement of the week, I think.

Big Z

I've got a major crush on my sleeping beauty at the moment (aside from the regular major crush on the child awake). To the point where I'ver started collecting picture of her sleep.
*Sigh* too cute.

Sleep starts of with story time (obligatory).

Bed too small for rotating child.

Baby Isobel for cuddly company. Company helps.

Parental company is better and she falls out of bed for it. "Daddy, help me a little bit!" (This is a direct order.)

Mind you, she falls out of bed with or without company.

Fell asleep with mummy on little mattress. "Mummy, help me a little bit, ok? Lie down on my baby mattress!" (This is a direct order.)

Transfer to mummy's bed after some 3 hours. Obligatory.

A fake! Giggling child, not sleeping child.

Bedtime starts at 7pm, right after dinner. We follow the order of face & hands, teeth (fight), pyjama, and varying numbers of stories by varying readers while sitting in bed. If mumy is last, two songs follow. Then comes the inevitable. "Help me a little bit, ok?" Read: Stay with me until I'm asleep and don't you dare take off before, ok? Ok. If you're lucky you get away with holding her hand. If you're less lucky she grabs hold of your nipple (damn uncomfortable and only affects mummy), or asks you (i.e. demands) that you lie down with her in her bed (no way) or alternatively on the floor (way).
(This, of course, must change back to the no-fuss process we used to follow until a number of months ago, and we've started at working towards independent sleep again. "I need to go and do some work downstairs but I'll come back in five minutes to check on you, ok?")
Sleep arrives, parent steals out of the room (if we haven't fallen asleep on teh floor), and Tara sleeps for 2-4 hours until she wakes up and can't go back to to sleep unless she gets promoted to a place in mummy's bed.
Truth is, I can't fall asleep if she's not there. Truth is also, I love looking at her at night, and even having a small heavy leg flung across my throat has its charms. Ah, my cuddly wuddly girl.

Snap: Nasty Casty Came Off Today

Phew, the awful cast came off today and we've recovered one sweet arm that's only slightly less tanned than it's twin. I'm glad to have it back not only cause it means I'll no longer get whacked with it in the middle of the night. Tara was scared and worried at first but equally happy at the latest when her mum gave her her promised hospital present - bribery for bravery ;) - of a new handbag with one pound of spending money. To buy what with? Ice cream, of course. "Hmmm... deLIcious!"

Mad Monster (Self Portraits)

Have we got anyone fooled into thinking that Tara likes having her picture taken? Hah! That would be because I take gadzillions of pictures and then select the best, i.e. the ones where she's actually, accidentally, looking rather than patiently studying the floor until the offensive camera has been removed. Occasionally, however, she remembers that she can have some input on what kind of pictures I get to take, and that's when she loves to pose for me. In poses she chooses. Like this.




Mad monster. Grrrr... And then she looks up and laughs about the fun we've just had, and forgets I still have that camera. Ha!

Sunburn

The rain is back (what else...) but I've still got that sunburn on my foot to proove that a sunny weekend on a windy beach really did happen! (And, of course, a few photos - well, actually 138 edited down to 23. What a tough job!)
Ok. We are not exactly the most naked lot on the beach this weekend, and certainly not among the lunatics in the water, but with a windbreaker or two it's nice and sunny. (And let it be said that those windbreakers were quite a job to buy. Sold out all over town, with a total of one left to go after we'd snatched up those two.)

English Beaches. Windy.

In England you dress to please yourself, not anyone else. That includes beachwear.

But then, of course, what matters most is the picnic anyway... although others may think that there's nothing like a nap with their head stuck under a specialised war magazine. Well.

"I like my egg... Can I have ice cream now?"

Safe and snug behind the windbreaker (and burning my feet like an utter idiot), I'm making sure that every member of the family gets their fair share of sun.

Getting bigger and bigger and bigger (as Tara says)

Tara makes sure that all get a fair share of attention and kisses (though for now she definately gets the most).

*smooch*

12 Things You Only Get in Spain

1. Tons of presents.

2. Beaches, complimentary heair cuts and weather good enough to strip down.

3. Quality time with Titi Isa.

4. Cute new babies.

5. Chill time for everybody.

6. Cheeky princesses.

7. Yummy curly mummies.

8. Correspondingly posh grandparents.


9. In short, Spanish weddings... which Tara thinks preciously little of...

10. Sweeties for breakfast.

11. Steady and vast supplies of sweeties for everyone at "Lo de la Loli".

12. Fat. Way too many sweeties.

(But maybe you can at least partially also blame the fact that new babies can also be had outside of Spain.)