If only mum had bothered to wash my breakfast off my face
before the photo shoot!
Friday, January 28, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Dictionary for a 2-year-old
Noogit = Music
As in: I turn noogit on and dance now.Mucha = Very much
As in: I love it mucha!
Gool = School
As in: I a big girl, I go to gool now mummy.
Apicous = Octopus
As in: I love Henwy (Henry) the Apicous mucha!
Jammin' = Jasmine
As in: I Jammin'
Wahahowom = Watermellon
As in: I have wahahowom now I finish dinner.
Lello = Yello
As in: Red and lello and pink and green...
Palers = Flowers
As in: I pick pink paler mummy?
Friday, January 14, 2011
Orally Anxious
Beau is a big boy. He has cankles, and his arms look sausages intersected with rubber bands. He's got a gut most life-long beer drinkers would be impressed by, and cheeks so chubby you want to take a big bite out of one.
But despite his impressive size, Beau doesn't like to eat. Well, anything other than breast milk that is.
And now it's got a name. A nurse specialising in delayed eating has labelled him "Orally anxious". Freud would have a field day.
Believe it or not our 75th percentile 8 month old will only swallow avocado, mushy weet bix, cottage cheese and plain yogurt. Stewed apples? No thank you. Mashed pumkin? No way. Banana? You've got to be joking! Even flavoured yogurt (his big sister's idea of heaven in a bowl) will be met by a screwed up face and a lot of tongue thrusting until the whole lot has been purged.
Apparently orally anxious babies don't like new textures or flavours and prefer bland, smooth foods.
Here's what happened when I gave him a piece of pumpkin yesterday.
Beau defied the laws of physics by breaking it up into more particles and spreading them further than humanly possible. It also gives us a good indication of what he would have looked like if he was a ranga (AKA fanta pants. Google it peeps!)
 |
| Mr Sausage Arms |
But despite his impressive size, Beau doesn't like to eat. Well, anything other than breast milk that is.
And now it's got a name. A nurse specialising in delayed eating has labelled him "Orally anxious". Freud would have a field day.
Believe it or not our 75th percentile 8 month old will only swallow avocado, mushy weet bix, cottage cheese and plain yogurt. Stewed apples? No thank you. Mashed pumkin? No way. Banana? You've got to be joking! Even flavoured yogurt (his big sister's idea of heaven in a bowl) will be met by a screwed up face and a lot of tongue thrusting until the whole lot has been purged.
Apparently orally anxious babies don't like new textures or flavours and prefer bland, smooth foods.
Here's what happened when I gave him a piece of pumpkin yesterday.
 |
| Ranga Beau |
Beau defied the laws of physics by breaking it up into more particles and spreading them further than humanly possible. It also gives us a good indication of what he would have looked like if he was a ranga (AKA fanta pants. Google it peeps!)
Uh oh
It would seem that we've been a little too efficient in Jasmine's toilet training. The last two nights she's taken off her nappy during the night (because it was wet, she tells me in the morning) and has woken up in a wet bed.
Uh oh, Mummy!
Uh oh, Mummy!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Holidays
Mum once said to me that you never get a holiday when you're a mother. I never understood it. I mean, I got to go to the beach, play when I wanted to, eat ice-cream and there was nutritious food on the table every meal, as usual. And the plates would disappear afterwards. Plus, I had a clean sheets to sleep on no matter where we were, clean clothes to wear, toys, books, and entertainment in the form of Sal, Mum and Dad.
Mum... now I understand!
But it has still felt like a holiday these last few weeks. The weather has been warm, and we've spent some time down the Mornington Peninsula which has been a lovely change of pace.
Two absolutely thrilling events have taken place since I last blogged.
Firstly... JASMINE IS TOILET TRAINED!! We're up to about 3 weeks straight of no nappies except for sleep time. I am super duper proud of her. She makes a big announcement every time she needs to go, "I need to do a WEEEEE, Mummy!", and is so proud of her undies that she lifts up her dress to show most people we walk past on the street, "I wearing undies!"...must figure out how to curb that one. She also likes to tell me in crowded places that "My undies stuck up my bum, Mummy!" and then fishes around to dig them out.
We've had a few slip ups, the most notable of which was when she went out on the grass to do a wee, and did a poo in the middle of the lawn instead! She was particularly proud of that one and I had a few moments fearing another poo-tug-o-war. Another entertaining accident was when we were all eating dinner together and Jasmine started to do a wee while she was at the dinner table. She just looked down with her hands and mouth full of food, and kept chewing as she watched as it flowed through her undies, down her legs and onto the chair then onto the floor. Quite the spectacle.
One morning last week she somehow managed to miss the toilet altogether (I wasn't there at the time - she will sometimes disappear now and come back announcing "I do wee on toilet, mummy!"). I only knew about it when I heard her cry out. She'd made a lovely big puddle on the floor, which she was quite upset about. We had a big cuddle and as I cleaned it up I told her how proud I was that she'd tried to do a wee on the toilet on her own.
The other huge news is that the ice-cream man made a visit to us when we were down the peninsula. Now I don't know if you Canadians are familiar with the tinkling music announcing the approaching promise of ice-cream, but here in Australia it is one of the wonders of summer. ICE CREAM! In a TRUCK! Coming to your HOUSE!
Anyway, the day it arrived Tim and I were out the back getting dinner ready when we both pricked up our ears to the sounds of Greensleeves. Our eyes met across the deck and without speaking we each grabbed a child and raced through the house at top speed. I was so thrilled. My heart was racing as we tumbled out the door, and there, around the corner came the ice-cream truck! I almost wet my pants with delight! (But thankfully didn't. Thanks for the toilet training, Mum and Dad. It's come in very handy over the years).
Unsurprisingly, someone who ate an ice-cream the size of her forearm didn't eat any dinner that night. Ahh, the joys of summer.
Mum... now I understand!
 |
| The Little Lawrences on holiday |
But it has still felt like a holiday these last few weeks. The weather has been warm, and we've spent some time down the Mornington Peninsula which has been a lovely change of pace.
 |
| Holiday Reading |
Two absolutely thrilling events have taken place since I last blogged.
Firstly... JASMINE IS TOILET TRAINED!! We're up to about 3 weeks straight of no nappies except for sleep time. I am super duper proud of her. She makes a big announcement every time she needs to go, "I need to do a WEEEEE, Mummy!", and is so proud of her undies that she lifts up her dress to show most people we walk past on the street, "I wearing undies!"...must figure out how to curb that one. She also likes to tell me in crowded places that "My undies stuck up my bum, Mummy!" and then fishes around to dig them out.
We've had a few slip ups, the most notable of which was when she went out on the grass to do a wee, and did a poo in the middle of the lawn instead! She was particularly proud of that one and I had a few moments fearing another poo-tug-o-war. Another entertaining accident was when we were all eating dinner together and Jasmine started to do a wee while she was at the dinner table. She just looked down with her hands and mouth full of food, and kept chewing as she watched as it flowed through her undies, down her legs and onto the chair then onto the floor. Quite the spectacle.
One morning last week she somehow managed to miss the toilet altogether (I wasn't there at the time - she will sometimes disappear now and come back announcing "I do wee on toilet, mummy!"). I only knew about it when I heard her cry out. She'd made a lovely big puddle on the floor, which she was quite upset about. We had a big cuddle and as I cleaned it up I told her how proud I was that she'd tried to do a wee on the toilet on her own.
The other huge news is that the ice-cream man made a visit to us when we were down the peninsula. Now I don't know if you Canadians are familiar with the tinkling music announcing the approaching promise of ice-cream, but here in Australia it is one of the wonders of summer. ICE CREAM! In a TRUCK! Coming to your HOUSE!
Anyway, the day it arrived Tim and I were out the back getting dinner ready when we both pricked up our ears to the sounds of Greensleeves. Our eyes met across the deck and without speaking we each grabbed a child and raced through the house at top speed. I was so thrilled. My heart was racing as we tumbled out the door, and there, around the corner came the ice-cream truck! I almost wet my pants with delight! (But thankfully didn't. Thanks for the toilet training, Mum and Dad. It's come in very handy over the years).
 |
| Beau likes ice-cream too! |
Unsurprisingly, someone who ate an ice-cream the size of her forearm didn't eat any dinner that night. Ahh, the joys of summer.
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