One Step Up

Big day! Tara goes back to nursery! What with the great fun she had at induction last week and her professional handling of the baby room at her old nursery only two months ago, she sure will be fine. I will not call in every half hour to find out how she's doing.

Tara Ready...

Behold mummy in a total haze, dropped out of bed after a rotten and incredibly short night, her usually not totally bad choice in clothes devastated by excessive tiredness. Mandatory mantra: I will not go back t0 bed later, I will not go back to bed later, I will NOT...

... Tara Steady... (daddy very steady thanks to Nespresso)

... Tara CHEEKY MONKEY!...

... GO!!!

Tara shouts: "AB!" Or is it "UP!"? Not sure. The meaning I am sure about: "Get me out of here, I have better things to do that just sit about here with Püppi!"

Toy heaven (Not the name of the nursery), spoiled for choice and the first one in, too - bliss!

And then mummy and daddy walked out and left her at the mercy of her new Kindergartentanten who attacked at mummy's orders to - a scandal! - take her SHOES off and - the outrage! - put her in her SLIPPERS! Tara WAILED! And yet mum and dad walked. D***it. Bad start. On the way home a fat splishy blob of seagull poop misses me by half a meter. A sign? Or just a reminder of the task at hand at home?

Mummy: Ready? GET UP!!! NO, Don't go back to sleep! Go! Steady....

Did mummy tidy her mess? Did Tara cry on? And what about the bird poop? A sign, a singular incident or the beginnings of seagully mass diarhoe? All will be revealed in our next entry... but before you leave us, read on about how

SUPER-DADDY SAVES THE CHILDREN
- Linguistic Newsflash -

If I'm not entirely wrong and remember vaguely correctly (from the days when I still had full control over my doings, went to uni, and studied a bit of child language acquisition), then there is a process called over-generalisation. It describes the child's clever approach to classing and grouping things whereby it first learns one word for one thing and then, having observed a similarity between that one thing and other things, applies the name to all things she recognises as 'the same', until, one fine day later, more names are learned, differences understood, and the name is yet again narrowed down to where it truly belongs. Example? Kid learns that the moon is called moon, calls the moon moon, and then proceeds to call every other yellow shiny round thing moon: Cheese, money and what have you.
Now here comes Tara.
As we had established earlier, she had come to understand (congratulations) that she is Tara.
Her pronunciation of that pretty name being a little off, she called herself, as we know, Kaka (Spanish, German, Italian and what have you for poop) (congratulations).
Generously, and as a special Christmas gift to all, Tara had worked out that, joy, other children are like her!
So. This little girl here? "KAKA!" That little boy there? "KAKA!" That group of children over there? "KAKA!"
Tara feels very enthusiastically about other little children. She is a hearty little soul and loves other people. So let's re-run that last impression.
This little girl here? Tara, waving enthusiastically and shouting at the top of her lungs: "KAKA!" That little boy there? Tara, loud and happy: "KAKA! Kaka!!" That group of children over there? Tara, pointing and waving, nearly jumps out of her push chair: "KAKA! KAAAKAA! KAKA!"

I had a lot of explaining to do. In Spanish. Back in Britain, I though, we'd be fine, what with poo being poo. But no. Library singing. Tara loves a little girl that runs about, and occasionally bends over (nappy visible). Tara should sing, hum or wave her hands, but instead points and proclaims at irregular intervals: "KAKA! Kaka!" Until Kaka's mum said, confused: She's not done a poo! And I, who should be singing and waving my hands, have to launch into my explanatory speech, in English.
So I had warned the nursery, as it is so full of Kakas.

Enter super-daddy, or rather exit, with Tara-Kaka on a father & daughter Sunday walk, and back they come, and no Kaka in sight. "NENE!" "NENA!", says Kaka, and points at every boy and girl in sight. In books. In magazines. On the street. At the shops. And, come Wednesday, on the school playground.

Super-daddy, you are a star. Such good timing, too. Saved so many children from the insult that results from the unfortunate marriage of your daughters good name and linguistic over-generalisation.
And super-star Tara, who now knows that she alone is Kaka and the others are nenes and nenas, well done too, and let's see what daddy can do about that unfortunate mispronunciation on the next father & daughter walk.

PS: Talking about 'marriage'. Here's to our two January baby candidates.
Jun - due date today. How's that lil boy doing in there?
Uncle Derek & Karina - the family is relieved to find that you did not get married behind our backs, and before the baby is due on 27.01. We congratulate on having managed to secure a date for the ceremony after all... on 26.01. Erm... IMPRESSIVE timing. IF baby cooperates.