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June 28, 2001
Pixie is 19 months old!
And she is more gorgeous than ever. I love this age, and I know I've said it before but it's simply GRAND. We have so much fun, and the days seem to speed by, lost in reading Dr Suess books, visiting friends, watching Winnie the Pooh videos and chasing my little giggling girl around the house. Pixie is fun, and funny, and apart from sometimes being bone-crunchingly tired, I have nothing to complain about at the moment.
We're enjoying our first winter in Canberra, and although the neighbourhood is often magically shrouded in fog and frost all morning, it doesn't feel like a house-bound winter at all. It often falls to minus 6-7 degrees C overnight, but by the afternoon it is clear and sunny, albeit a tad chilly. I've never seen this much sunshine in winter in my life before, and it's only rained 3-4 times since we moved here last December. We're loving the sunshine but the ground is bone dry, and a number of the trees and shrubs in our yard have died. Eek! I'm religiously watering the garden, but it feels insanely odd to be watering the garden in the depths of winter.
I am in love with this house. It is so fucking warm and comfortable. Central heating is the best thing since…well, since I discovered automatic transmission. It's always warm and toasty in this house. I'm sure our winter bills will scare the bejeesuz outta me but hey, by the time they arrive it'll be too late. Lately I've been pondering our move interstate, and I'd have to conclude that it's all turned out brilliantly. I like it up here, the city is pretty and interesting, the countryside is gorgeous, the weather is invigorating and powerful, our house is large and comfortable, I have huge plans for the garden, and we're making lots of friends. I'm meeting more people than I have in years, people (mostly mums) of all shapes and sizes and types, and I'm enjoying myself. It's remarkably liberating to be starting all over again, a little like reinventing yourself. I find I'm freer up here to reconsider who I am and what I want, and I'm really starting to enjoy the "suburban life." Funny the curve-balls life throws at you, but I'm surprisingly flexible at the moment, and simply enjoying the changes being in a new city, climate, and house are bringing me.
These days I spend many hours lost in a warm wash of suburban fantasies. I day-dream about beach holidays in summer with my then 2.3 year old squealing and splashing in the water, her curls getting bleached by the sun, her skin turning golden brown. I fantasise about inviting all our "new" friends over for backyard BBQ's in spring …warm Sunday afternoons with the kids splashing in the wading pool and playing on the swing-set we'll be buying Pixie for her birthday, sitting under the pergola sipping iced tea and home-brewed ginger beer, admiring my lush green garden! I've even started planning the Pixster's 2nd birthday party…crazy I know but who can resist. I am thoroughly enjoying these simple, achievable fantasies, and I'm not at all bothered by my lack of ambition. I am content to simply roll along at the moment, enjoying the cuteness of Pixie's toddlerhood and the simple pleasures of my new-found suburban lifestyle.
Pixie at 19 months is funnier than ever. Children are so incredibly cute and clever at this age, aren't they? Pixie spends a lot of time running around, and watching her run never fails to bring a smile to my face. She's got the funniest duck-waddling run I've ever seen! She runs on tiptoe, arms flailing around, head wobbling, a huge grin on her face, and she looks like a dipsy fairy. I get her to run in public places as often as I dare, simply because she looks so incredibly small and cute and hilarious amongst the drab seriousness of the big wide world.
The darling girl has become incredibly affectionate and clingy in her old age too. She OFTEN asks for a "cudd, cudd" (cuddle) and when you hold her she says "niiiiice." If you ask for a kiss she'll hold her little face up to yours, sometimes with her cheeky mouth wide open for a wet one. And she has become quite upset recently about 'Dad-dad' going to work. She'll cry when he leaves in the morning and she'll come racing up to find me in bed (yes, I'm a lazy sod). I pull her under the covers for a warm cuddle and I explain, "Dad-dad has to go to work, and Pixie stays home with Mum. Pixie and Mummy stay home together." Then she'll often wander around the bedroom pulling Jai's clothes out of the drawers saying "Dad-dad, Dad-dad, Dad-dad." It's adorably cute.
And I am relieved to announce that her fussy-eating phase has passed. She's eating reasonably well again, although dinner-time is o
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