Goodness Me, What a MESS!

Moment, kurz mal's Baby ablegen und vielleicht ein wenig drumherum aufräumen, wo Tara grad nicht im Haus ist...

Tidy up time! Quick! Drop the baby and one, two, TIDY!

Also, ich begrüße es ja durchaus, dass Tara inzwischen gelernt hat, sich allein zu beschäftigen. Ganz toll, dass sie nicht mehr morgens laut weinend am Bett steht, weil sie aufstehen will, und ich noch nicht für action zu haben bin. Ganz toll dass sie dann die Spielsachen rausholt und innerhalb von 5 minuten quer durch's Zimmer verteilt - brilliant, dass es dazu auch einen narrativen Plot gibt, kreativ und originell, wie den hier unten abgebildeten.

Mess! Tara is Father Christmas, her sleigh on the left and lots of toys for everybody everywhere!

Tara: "I'm Father Christmas! Ho ho ho! I brought you lots of toys, everyone!" - kippt Leo's Spielzeugkiste um - "Here, lots of toys for Leo... a book, Hoopy-Loopy..." - Leo's Geschenke werden neben ihn auf's Bett gelegt - "... lots of toys for my babies..." - alle anderen Sachen bleiben auf dem Fußboden.
"This is my sleigh!" - platziert die umgedrehte Spielzeugkiste neben dem Hocker, zerrt all 12 gefalteten Spucktücher aus und breitet sie sorgfältig über dem Schlitten aus. Dann findet sie sich ihr fürchterliches Plastikzugtiergeräuschklavier, lässt das Ding laut eine aufdringliche, schräge Melodie auf 'Ente' singen (was der verzweifelt klagenden Muhkuh vorzuziehen ist) und singt obendrüber Jingle Bells als b das eine was mit dem anderen zu tun hätte.
Dazu: Einen Korb ungefalteter Wäsche und einen Beutel Windeln. Ho ho ho. Ich will nicht aufstehen. Nie wieder. Aber halt! Es ist ja Kindergarten! Wenn ich uns doch alle irgendwie aus dem Haus kriege, kann ich den Tag ohne weitere Verwüstungen - und ohne Plastikmusik - verbringen!
Wior schaffen es mit einer Stunde Verspätung zum Kindergarten und Leo und ich verbringen den Tag mit einem schönen Buch warm im Bett. BLOSS NICHT vom Buch hochgucken.

If I get out of bed, lift my eyes off my book and child and face the mess, I'm dead sure I'll faint

Wer natürlich wochentags im Bett liegt, mit dem schlafenden Baby kuschelt (das nie mehr als 30-60 minuten schläft, wenn man nicht daneben liegt, aber locker 3 Stunden packt, wenn man sich duzukuschelt und ab und zu im Halbschlaf ein wenig Milch nachfüllt) und Bücher liest, darf dann am Wochenende die Hausarbeit erledigen.
Waschtag also! Mal eben das Baby ablegen und sortieren... Oh, da kommt Tara um die Ecke...

Weekend washday

... und eine Minute später liegen zwei Kinder auf Wäschehaufen auf der Ecke, aber nicht lange, denn dann findet Tara es wichtiger, dass die Lulila ihr eigenes Bettchen kriegt, und guck mal Mama!, da liegen ja ganz viele von meinen Unterhosen auf dem Boden, die ziehe ich mir jetzt alle übereinander an...

Ugh, what is my underwear doing here... let me put it back on...

Also, sie sind ja süß, meine Äffchen, aber das Ding mit dem Monsterchaos und der Plastikmusik... gut, dass Jose ab und an hinter uns herräumt und inzwischen ganz gut darin ist...

(Wenn ich ein wenig aufgeräumt habe, kriege ich vielleicht ein paar Fotos von den Spaniern in Netz...)

(Truly, sometimes I just want to sit on the floor and whimper quietly...)

The Rice Krispie Treat Report

To make rice krispie treats with Tara, you need:
* One Tara and one contented little brother
* rice krispies as per recipe,
* butter AND marshmallows
* one broom, child size, and one adult size
* one egg
* foreign inspiration (like from other people who have not yet blogger their pictures!)
* a lot of time to kill with both kids, like when Papi is on his way to the airport to fetch the in-laws (my in-laws, that is, not his).

Also, you need to read the rice krispie recipe in full before before you go shopping, so as not to just think "rice krispies... yeah well kind of obvious... butter, yeah I got butter," and then come to realise back home that you also needed marshmallows. (On the plus side, going down to the shops twice means double the fresh air, and double the time spent doing meaningful activities.)

Step 1.: Get ingredients together

So, after two trips to the shops, Tara excitedly cooks up a storm. Rice krispies go everywhere, with the first load being generously assigned to her mouth and the floor. Never mind - we have brooms of all sizes as well as a healthy appetite, and cleaning up your own mess is just of the same educational value as baking up a storm. Talk about a storm... Jose's daughter is very good with brooms, at every angle.

Step 2.: Generousbly clean the rice krispies out of the kitchen. They are everywhere.

Next, you actually allow your Tara to do the hot stuff herself, with, obviously, plenty warning about the dangers of hot pans and hot marshmallows. They melt in the most fascinating fashion. (That alone was worth the effort!)

Step 3.: Melt butter and marshmallows.

Talk your Tara into not eating up all the marshmallows, then stir in the rice. Fascinating gue.

We pat it into a form and while I stick it in the fridge (i.e. turn my back), Tara climbs atop the kitchen table. We've just successfully handled hot stuff, why not next handle gravity, ey? We talk to daddy at the airport until two grandparents emerge with two suitcases containing about two tooth brushes (and 40 kilos of Spanish foods and presents). Quote Tara: "Hey daddy, guess what! I'm sitting on the table like a monkey." Yep, true.

Step 7.: Announce treats to daddy at the airport

And finally, ta-da, we have reached the great big moment: We will sample rice krispie treats that all our friends think so much of. Tara takes one nibbly bite... "Ugh... Mummy, I don't like them any more... you can have them, and daddy, and abuela and abuelo. Can I have my egg now? Round, like Arthur [at nursery]." Ah. Well. Well then. All for me, as daddy and abuela and abuela sure as hell won't touch the stuff - totally besides the fact that they will, in just under two hours, unpack about 3 kilos of Spanish sweets from their suitcases, along with an expected 15 additional kilos of cheese and meats. Cooking sessions is over and rice krispie week is about to start, if only for me.

Last step: Eat that food which you think is tasiest even if that may be a boiled egg...

I Love My Baby...

... and my baby loves me right back!

Winter, Again

Leo and I had set off to look at a house which turned out too cramped to consider buying, and by the time we come back out the sidewalks are slippery with snow. By the time we are back home 15 mintes later walking is quite a feat, and going to pick Tara up from nursery just an hour later is, well, difficult. But nice - crunch crunch crunch. I can't wait to get my girl home to play in the snow with - my excuse,as if I need one - but Tara's a bit tired, having already made a snow reindeer with her friends and thrown plenty snowballs at the "grown-ups" but a single snowball against her window is enough to tempt her out again to play with her silly old mother. ("Silly"... "old"... ha ha ha!)
I turn my back this way, and she scrambles onto her trampoline to bounce in the snow. I turn my back that way, and she's put so many footmarks into the garden there's hardly any room left to teach her snow angels, but we just about squeeze two in: one - if I may say so myself - rather elegant, tall and slim mummy angel, flap flap, and one charming, small, pudgey smudgey baby angel.

Flip flap flop

Podgey stodgey baby angel

Cold snowbaby Tara retires into the warmth of the kitchen, and I finish my little project, The Abominable Snowbaby, by myself. Dedicated to Leo, who is sound asleep on his father's shoulder or some other warm irregular place.

The Abominable Snowbaby

The Abominable Snowbaby suffers a bit over night, spits out his dummy, possibly in an attempt to mature and grow over night, but to no avail: By the time Leo and Snowbaby meet, he's slumping and on his way to meet the angels. Accordingly, Leo spectacularly fails to be impressed.
He pats down the snow - cold - then looks away in a tired 3-month-old way. I should have given it boobs, maybe.

Snowman? Been there, done it... give me something more exciting, mother!

Pillefüße und Rosa Socken

Aaaah-HA! Nach Tagen angestrengten (und anscheinend sehr befriedigendem) Lutschens und Halten der eigenen kleinen Hände, scheint Kleiner Mann entdeckt zu haben, dass er noch mehr Hände hat als gedacht... wenn man die Pillefüße nicht zum Laufen benutzt, und die kleinen Hände nicht groß zum Greifen, ist es ja schließlich mehr oder weniger dasselbe. Das saß er also und starrte und strampelte und starrte noch ein wenig mehr, und als er bemerkte, dass Mama auch starrte - durch dieses kleine interressante Ding mit den netten orangen Licht und dem hellen weißen, das Leo so interressant findet - da war sogar ein großes Lachen drin.

Genug gestarrt - zurück zum Wäschefalten, wenn die Berge Wäsche nicht wieder zwei Wochen ungefaltet im Schlafzimmer rumstehen sollen. Für den Sohn, der sich mit dem Begucken seiner Schuhe befasst, sind da natürlich ein paar Socken drin, die das Ganze farblich ein wenig aufmischen und vergrößern - zum vereinfachten Gucken quasi. Dass Socken in unserem Wäschekorb meist rosa sind, macht da gar nichts, Leo findet's klasse, und lutscht prompt die Handsocken wieder wäschereif. Socken, Hände, Füße - alles ganz toll!

Rosa Socken für alle!

Und wenn man sich seiner Füße bewusst geworden ist, ist alles gleich noch mal doppelt so interessant. Man kann so rum auf dem Sessel liegen und die Füße begucken, oder anders herum die große Schwester. Und die hat dann sogar auch rosa Socken an.

Three Months "Kleiner Mann"

We were at the doctors two days ago for his second set of jabs, and as we were walking past a very new baby it finally struck me just how big he already is! He's ginormous!
Without further ado, here's an over view. I'm giving you: Leo G., at 3 months!

Growing, growing... grown! (Well, to 3 months)

Objects of greatest interest: 1. Mobile, 2. any inanimate thing held in front of face, 3. Tara, moving.

I'm staring my toys down

Most reliable smile extractors: 1. Daddy, 2. the mobile, 3. toys wiggled in front of him.

Hey giggles!

Biggest areas to still work on: 1. Falling asleep alone, 2. Staying asleep when put down, 3. Sleeping on inanimate surfaces (i.e. not mum or dad... or, really, any other willing adult).
Most likely to hear from Mummy: 1. "Ich hab dich lieb, kleiner Mann." 2. "Wassislos, Stinker." 3. "Tasse. Das ist eine Taaasse. Tasse. Henkel. Heeeenkel. Zum Trinken, uh-huh? Taaaasse."
Most likely to hear from Daddy: 1. "Blilililiillllllip?" 2. "Ping!" 3. "A gu-gu-gu-guguuuuu? Ping!"
Most likely to hear from Tara: "Aaaaw, I love you little man." 2. "Hey what's up?" 3. "Leo guck mal!"

"Aaaaw, I love you, Little Man!"

Three favourite acivities: 1. Being held and bounced/jiggled, 2. Bathing (full bath with mummy), 3. Nappy changing time (inc. mobile-gazing & massage)
Makes him cry furiously: 1. Waking up and finding himself put down/alone, 2. Being shown a boob when hungry and not having it immediately, 3. Being picked up and put down seconds later.
To soothe Leo: 1. Boobie (+/- stroking temple), 2. bounce & jiggle, 3. Bounce, jiggle and sing. Most recent firsts: 1. Holding a toy when given, one week ago. 2. Puking half a cup of milk back into mummy's neck line, yesterday. 3. Batting at, and getting his hands on things, today (pram toys, mummy's plate) (discounting the countless instances in which he's got his hands entagled in my hair)

Grab it - wave it - oops, it's gone!

People, people say he looks like: 1. Papi, 2. Tara, 3. his uncle Derek (but it seems only I see that.)

For all those that say Leo looks just like Jose

Most recent acquisitions: 1. Ergo baby carrier (organic, with baby inset), 2. Play mat with activity bow, 3. Baby entertainer / play centre. (Ugh. This is expensive shit. We better have another one to justify all this, ey, Jose?) (Jose talked me out of number three, for now. It STILL is expensive, all of it, and I shall NOT delete the content of the first brackets!)



PS: Three things I meant to have started by now (and what I've achieved): 1. Lose all baby weight by now (Ha! Ha ha ha.) 2. Become a yoga freak and very fit (attended 3 classes at the gym, over 4 weeks - and the other day I managed to carry socks down the stairs and switch the DVD player on, intending to do an exercise video), 3. Convert the blog into a photo book (Have come to terms with Jose having deleted most of the pics of days 1-12, and nobody being able to retrieve any/more than a few)
Three things I reall really need to get done now: 1. Post the last Christmas gifts out. 2. Properly say thank you to his many well-wishers and gift-givers, 3. Given 1 & 2, there is no 3.

Tara and The Allen's Special (For Tanya)

Flashback! Tanya special!
I found these while browsing Tara's pictures at Leo's age. (And for all that are not Tanya, you can see how my babies look different after all, three months down the line!)










Tara is comfortably dressed in clothes that I got too small for Leo a month ago...

Now, Tanya, where is that picture of me and Jas at one of our Mirch Masala lunches? I know there is one...

My Lion Baby

Na-na-na-naa-naa... Mine is CUTER!

Is there anything as adorable as a naked chubby lion cub lifted up to the adoring public? Naaah, can't think of anything! Even if I'm lifter-upper and adoring public all in one, and potentially resemble that old monkey slightly (not in wisdom, but in big bags under eyes and messy hair?).
Voila: I'm giving you one Leo cub of the day, possibly in transition from changing table to bathroom sink for a quick wash, maybe just dangled in front of his father (and the camera) for some extra adoration of his semi naked little self, extra cute with underwear on his head. Who cares? So cute!!

Cutie with odd headgear clutching and sucking his fists

(Second set of jabs today and barely a tear - I was pleasantly surpised after he raised hell the first time round.)