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June 4, 2001
**Pixie Bella's Eighteen Month Review….PART TWO!**
Okay, so here I am again, attempting to finish what I started last week. Life as a parent huh? It's full of disruptions and unfinished business!
Now I'm sure there were a few more things I wanted to capture here, in this review, but for the life of me I can barely remember them now! So if this half of the review reads like a drunken ramble, blame my house-guests…ha! Yes, we had house-guests here for 5 days last week, which is why I didn't finish the Pixster's review in one foul swoop! But boy, was it ever fun to have our friends visit us up here in our new abode! It was a couple of old friends we shared a house with back in our good old days of communal living, and their three year old daughter and one-year old twins. One of the joys of moving to a new city and state is that friends and family come for holidays! One of the sorrows of moving to a new city and state is when you have to say goodbye and you realise how long it'll be before you see them again! SIGH. But we had fun while it lasted: cooking serious food at 8pm after all the little ones were tucked into bed, drinking numerous bottles of wine every evening, showing them around our new city during the day, watching the kids play and fight together around the house and at the multitude of playgrounds we frequented…Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Mind you, if I ever have to load the dishwasher AGAIN I'm sure I'll scream! I swear I spent half of their visit loading and unloading the damn thing! It was perpetually on, humming and sloshing away. God, I have no recollection of how I lived before it though. Ewwww, dishpan hands, NEVER AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE!!!!
Now, enough small talk about housework! Blah! On to the business at hand….Pixie, Pixie, Pixie….hmmmm? Where do I begin?
**From the Mouth of Babes**
The Pixette can talk. Yes, it's now official, SHE CAN TALK. This morning she said her FIRST ever sentence. Jai was reading her a book called 'When I go to the Park' and when he got to the bit where the child is swinging on the swing, Pixie charged over to the backdoor, tried to open it, and said "'Wing, car, go!" (interpretation: let's jump in the car and drive to the swings!) Ha-ha-ha!!! YIPPEE, the girl can TALK! And she has a huge vocabulary now, it's growing wild, like mould on the bathroom tiles! But then again, it's NOTHING like mould really, because I have no desire whatsoever to wipe it away. Mind you, there's a couple of words creeping into the girl's repertoire that need a good squirt down with heavy-duty disinfectant! ARGH!
Yes, it's true, the inevitable has happened…GULP! As some of you might have noticed by now, I tend to swear a lot, and the other day when I was lifting Pixie out of her car seat I thought I heard her say "shit." Now the rebellious teenager inside of me wanted to crack-up laughing and start bragging about this new accomplishment to any old granny that would stop and listen, but before my smirk had time to burst into a giggle the far-reaching implications of this little development hit me across the face like a slap with a wet fish. What would people think if they heard my innocent, wide-eyed, ever-so-tiny, curly-headed cherub say "SHIT"??? And far, FAR WORSE than that: did this mean I had to GIVE UP SWEARING?????????????????? Fuck! Fuck! Fuckety-fuck!
Ever since that fateful day I've been noticing exactly how often I use such colourful language. And I'm afraid I might have to start a soap-sud-diet because I swear AN AWFUL LOT!!!!! In the last few days Pixie has been heard, on many, many occasions, to be chanting "sh-it, sh-it, sh-it" as she goes about her business around the house. Both Jai and I have been too dumbfounded to react, but we have started to notice that she says the dreaded "S" word when she's climbing onto her little foam couch to watch TV. This gave me pause to HOPE that this little development was nothing more than a speech-impediment, and that my little Pixette was simply saying "sit" with a bit of a slur. But yesterday when I tripped UP the garage stairs as I was carrying the Pixster to the car (yes, I'm seriously clumsy), and the 'S' word bounced off my tongue like a grasshopper on speed (ie. as quick as a wink), I heard a voice on my hip echo with a cute little "shit" of her own. HELLPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!! If I don't give up cursing my little Pixster is gonna end up swearing like a drunken sailor at a brothel…at the tender age of TWO! Isn't there a law against that or something? I'm scared shitless (…oops!) that the parenting-police will find out about it, hunt me down and fuse my lips together with industrial-strength super-glue!!
Oh well, despite this dark little cloud on our horizon, I'd have to say that life in the babbling kingdom of Pixieland is generally all blue skies and smooth sailing. Pixie is learning words so fast that she'll be filling ALL the quiet spaces in our life with silly chitter-chatter in no time at all. And I LOVE IT! I am so excited and proud of her. This really is the grandest of all developments!! And it's an amazing RELIEF when the little people finally learn to talk. It takes some of the hit-and-miss guess-work out of this parenting-business, because they can finally ASK for things they want. Mind you, they also learn to say "No" an awful lot, which can be rather frustrating. "Do you want some custard?" No. "Do you want some yoghurt?" No. "Do you want some apricots?" No. "Do you want to go to bed?" NO. NO. NO!!!!!!!!!!! ARGH!!!!!!!!!
Pixie says words with her own adorable little accent and sometimes I go out of my way to get her to repeat a favourite word over and over and over. She has a favourite TV show where one of the teddy-bears is called "Amy." Now Pixie calls ALL teddy bears "Amy" and the way she says it is SO FUCKING CUTE that I'm forever pointing out bears to her and saying "who's that?" just so I can hear her say "Amy." I tell you, it's like licking the inside of the Cointreau bottle…I'm squeezing every last ounce of cuteness out of Pixie at this age, I don't want to miss a drop! This has to be THE CUTEST AGE EVER, and I hereby declare myself to be madly in love with eighteen month olds…they are simply DIVINE…well, except when they turn into mad feral wildebeests….
**The Other Dreaded "S" word…**
Yep, you guessed it. SOCIALISATION.
Oh yes, I can hear you quaking out their in cyberland at the mere mention of the word, so feel free to crouch under your desk in fear and dread. I completely understand.
Am I right in thinking that it's one of every mother's most embarrassing moments to find themselves in a social situation where their dear sweet child, the spawn of their own loins, their own FLESH and BLOOD, runs rampant through the social group, terrorising the other babies??? Guess who's shoes I've found myself trembling in this week???
Yup, Pixie has been a horror this past week. It started with our three year old house-guest, whom Pixie had a bit of a cat-fight with: pulling hair, scratching, biting. The three year old was mad keen on Pixie, but she tried one too many times to organise the Pixster and boss her around, and Pixie WILL NOT be bossed around thanks very much!! Later in the week when Pixie found some innocent little boy standing in her way at gym class she grabbed him by the ear and tried to drag him away. Ouch! And then, when I had a girlfriend and her sweet one-year-old over for coffee on Friday she yanked the little girl's hair, grabbed her by the jumper and tried to push her away. IT WAS MORTIFYING! My little Pixie is turning into a bully!!! And Jai and I are covered in bite marks from her viscious little surprise attacks throughout the week.
Now it is very tempting to simply blame the old man's genetic stock, because I have it from the horse's mouth that Jai's sister was a terrible bully at primary school, terrorising all the girls and boys in the playground. Now, I love Jai's sister to death, but Pixie does bare a striking resemblance to her, and to my aunty, whom my mother tells me was always fighting with someone or other during her childhood years. This begs the question: Are the genetic cards stacked up against the Pixie-piper? Will I find myself the mother of the most feared girl in the school-ground??? And how will meek and mild little me handle that??????
It really is daunting to consider HOW to socialise our children so they can make friends. I mean, what exactly can I do to help the Pixster become likeable and popular? It is probably my first instinct to keep OUT of her social life and let the kids fight it out amongst themselves, but I worry terribly about what the other mother's will think. Will they hate my child? Will they be offended and upset when Pixie hurts their children? Will I spend my whole time going around apologising for Pixie's rampant behaviour? Will they decide I am a BAD mother because my child acts this way??? ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
I'm trying to be sensible about it, and reason that it's a normal phase that most children go through, and that I shouldn't over-react, but it's HARD! I really feel RESPONSIBLE when Pixie hurts another child, like I should be exercising my parental authority (ha!) and preventing it from occurring, or punishing her when it does. And another thing I've realised, it's pretty damn awkward when you find you have to discipline your child in PUBLIC and you haven't got a friggin CLUE how to go about it!!!
I'm beginning to wonder if I'm not trying to socialise Pixie too early. Maybe it's all a bit too much for her, and she's becoming aggressive because she feels overwhelmed? It's tempting to withdraw from social situations until she's a bit older and more able to handle her feelings, but then what about me? When do I get to try and make friends and enjoy other people's company? Not that I can do much of that with Pixie tagging along anyway. She tears around at such a ferocious rate that she requires CONSTANT supervision, and I barely get to sip a cup of tea, let alone finish a conversation!
Man, this parenting gig is a challenge, isn't it?
**Livin' the Suburban Dream**
Well, it's hard to believe that we've been living up here, in Canberra, for SIX MONTHS already! Time flies like a speeding bullet these days. It's dangerous! Here we are, buried deep in the suburbs, in our nondescript brick house, living the suburban dream. I mean, how many people dream of living in a comfortable house, in a comfortable suburb, in a fairly prosperous city, with an adorable 18 month old, a devoted husband, a couple of credit cards, a dishwasher, a sunken lounge room and a paved outdoor entertainment area???? Well, I for one, have NEVER indulged in that particular fantasy but here I am, living it out. And it is strange to admit that it ain't half bad, sister!
This is a life changing realisation for me, because I came from the kind of "scene" where the suburbs are considered to be 'black holes', dangerous places where you and your individuality might disappear forever, never to be found again. From where I came from it was cool to live in a funky apartment close to the city, spend all your spare cash on cd's and books and alcohol, wear second-hand clothes, meet friends at cafes to discuss movies over strong espressos, and pretend to be a brilliant poet, or song-writer, or musician, or photographer, who was waiting to be discovered for the genius that you are…NOT!
Ha! Ha! Ha! I laugh at it all now, that's what having kids does to ya! It turns your head inside out, shakes out all the garbage, and then slaps you back together again. Life seems far more "REAL" out here in the suburbs, and quite frankly I couldn't give a rat's arse if I'm living the most normal, boring, uncreative existence on the planet. I used to dream of writing a best-selling novel and buying a chateau in France, now I dream of swing-sets in the backyard and holidays at the local beach town, watching my suntanned toddler frolic in the waves. Life is simpler, and less ambitious, but it's fuller than ever.
Jai and I were walking through our national war memorial yesterday, a place that brings life into stark perspective, and Pixie was walking inbetween us, holding each of us by the finger, and I thought, this is beautiful. I looked across at Jai and we both looked down at the teeny-tiny curly-headed tot inbetween us and this moment was just as beautiful as a painting, or a symphony, or a poem. Our daughter is a beautiful unique creation, there's no-one quite like her on the planet, and everyday she challenges our hearts to grow deeper, our minds to grow more lateral, our lifestyle to grow more flexible. Having children might just be the ultimate form of creativity, and I'm starting to realise that the simple joys of family life are seriously under-rated (in some circles anyway!).
So I am happy, buried deep in the suburbs in my extremely comfortable brick house. I am in love with my dishwasher with the same fervour I used to feel for Simone DeBeauviour! Ha-ha-ha! And life with central heating is as comforting as a café latte at a trendy café! Hee-hee-hee! We are thoroughly enjoying life in our new city, despite missing our family and friends. It's good fun to be tourists in the town where you live: visiting the museums and galleries and parks and gardens and markets for the first time. And I am madly in love with the climate up here. The weather is divine: endlessly sunny days, cool crisp evenings, frosty mornings, and the air is alpine fresh (we live near the mountains!). This city is much quieter than Melbourne but it's a welcome change of pace. It still has everything a city needs, but we're right on the edge of the mountains and the countryside, so it's like living on the cusp of both worlds. We take Pixie to playgrounds with views of rolling hills and grasslands, where kangaroos graze near the carpark (it's true) and you have to watch you don't stand in roo poo! Later the same day we're off to the National museum to check out the story of our nations progress in one of the countries most funky and modern architectural landmarks! Yep, it's fun here, everything's new and exciting and we have absolutely no regrets about moving!
**Number Two???**
Well, with family-life finally hitting it's straps, Jai and I occasionally find ourselves wondering about baby no.2! I mean, hell, what's the suburban dream without another little tacker for Pixie to fight with and chase around? Yes, I'll admit, I often catch myself wondering WHEN would be the right time to consider another baby. I used to fantasise about having a gaggle of children close together in age, but I've woken up from that little daydream with a large jolt. My god, I don't know how the rest of you do it, but quite frankly, the thought of two children under two years sounds like MASOCHISM to me. I seriously doubt my body could take it, let alone my SANITY! Mind you, I'm beginning to feel that I'm recovering A TINSY-WINSY BIT from pregnancy and the rigours of the first year, but I still feel like I need a little more time, thanks very much, before I decide to double my workload! EEK!
But I'll have you know Jai has put in orders for a fat, droopy, boy-baby next time round, the sort that simply eats and sleeps his way through the first year. Sounds alright, but being slightly insane I still fantasise about having a gaggle of girls! Whatever the case, we've decided Pixie needs to be a bit more independent before we could handle no.2, so we have to get her through the terrible-two's, toilet-training, and get her sleeping though the night before it'll seem like a possibility! Mind you, when I find myself with a lifestyle devoid of nappies, boob-feeds, tantrums and disrupted sleep I would be an absolute IMBECILE to get preggers again and give it all up!!!!! Ha-ha, the dilemmas of parenthood never end, do they??
**And on that ominous note…**
You can now heave a big sigh of relief, because TH-TH-THAT'S ALL FOLKS!!!
But wait, I have some BIG, BAD NEWS to share…..yes, the time has finally come. It's time for me to wind-down my diary writing commitments…ARGH!!!!!!! I've been giving this a lot of thought, and I've realised that I really want to read a novel again, sometime in the next year that is, and so I have to free up some quiet-time for myself. The only quiet time I get these days is during Pixie's one-hour day-sleep, when I usually find myself here, tapping and surfing away. Now, don't get all teary-eyed on me, I have no intention whatsoever of giving up diary writing altogether. NO WAY, you can't get rid of me that easily!!! I have thoroughly enjoyed keeping a record of Pixie's life, and meeting all you cyber-mums has been an added bonus. But I really can't keep up with weekly postings any more. And so, I'm going to write ONCE A MONTH, on Pixie's birthdate. That way I hope I'll always be able to write half-decent up-dates that have been EDITED (wow!), and I'll have time to answer my message-board mail, AND I might find the odd moment to READ A BOOK….ambitious, I know.
So folks, I'll be back on the 25th of June for Pixie's 19 month up-date! And the 25th of every month thereafter, so write this in your appointment books: "Monthly rendezvous in Pixie and Eloise's cyber-lounge-room, 25th of every month!"
Until then you'll find me madly answering all of the wonderful mail on my message-board!
Much love to you all,
Eloise and the babbling Pixster.
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