goggaland

Bugs are referred to as "gogga's" in South Africa, and Zack has taken to the word "goggo" with glee. In fact, so much so, that he calls everything that vaguely resembles a bug, a goggo. I think it's a zulu word. Anyway, it means that our world is teaming with the little critters. The funniest incident in recent weeks was Zack approaching me with something in his mouth. He was holding 'it' behind his bottom teeth, with his tongue. On closer investigation I realised it was the trilobite I'd seen crawling across the TV unit earlier on. EEK !


Zack was given this beautiful toy monkey yesterday by one of Keith's work colleagues - it looks like Curious George. Zack immediately became attached to his new friend, feeding it breakfast and allowing him to 'suck' his dummy. (- Not sure why I think it's a 'he')
Sometimes I feel that I'm lagging behind as a parent - that my child is ready for greater heights, greater challenges and I'm still catching up with an already-passed developmental stage. What to do ? I don't really have the time to be playing child-development-specialist on top of all my other duties. Perhaps a book would help me anticipate a bit more. Hmm...

Aside:
Zack persists in his biting. It is almost always in frustration now, and hardly ever in excitement. Keith and I are still being firm, but he can get so strung out sometimes that he starts thrashing out and trying to hit you if you won't let him sink his teeth in. I find the only way to deal with it, is to walk away. I won't tolerate biting. And I won't tolerate the hitting either. Zack has to find ways of dealing with his frustration. I find if I try and console him, by approaching him and saying, "X is really frustrating, isn't it ?", this only illicits physical assault. Not quite the outcome I'd hoped for.

Speech development is coming along but it's occurred to me that the dummy-sucking during the day is stunting his speaking. Keith and I agreed a while back that we should only have the dummy/pacifier at night, but when he was so sick last week, we were giving in as he needed to be comforted. Tough call.

My mate Yolande said she never wanted to be a No-Mommy, but I see Keith and I at this stage in Zack's life and we're constantly saying "No! Zack!". I guess it's the phase we're in - approaching the two's and all the willfulness that goes with it. You have to set boundaries all the time, but it can be relentless.

vocal explosion

Zack is just talking, talking, talking. It's as if he's suddenly getting his mouth around all the things that he's been listening to for months. We've been making notes of the news words for a while, but in the last few days it's just exploded. Isn't language an amazing thing ? I was watching my friend Elly's little boy a few months agao and was astonished at how he mimicked her every word, and now Zack is doing it. Of course there's heaps of babbling going on, but for the rest it's great fun.

Favourite word is still 'car'. But that's how it goes with boys !

The Aside:
Coming back to London was a shock to the system. We had a few rough nights and Zack is becoming more and more head-strong. He bit me hard on Wednesday morning at our mum's group, because I wouldn't let him have a 4th biscuit. Lots of screaming and stamping of feet, and then when I confronted him and said "no", he bit me. I smacked him in front of all the mummies. Yesterday we were in Hyde Park, in a playground, and 2 mums came to blows because one's child was being picked on by another (with absent mum). Heaven help you if you raise your voice, let alone your hand to some kid who is pounding yours. What a crazy world we live in! Jackie was saying how strange it is that we are so involved in our children's lives (stimulating them, educating them, entertaining them), compared to our mums who chased us outside to play, and our grandparents who were even less involved (by all accounts - see ITV's new parenting series, Bringing Up Baby). There has definitely been a trend in the last 100 years towards tighter bonds with one's children. The down-side is tho', that we don't trust anyone with or near our kids. There are paedo's everywhere, we're told. Stranger Danger! etc. etc. It puts so much more strain on mums who are already collapsing under the load of domestic duties, and dad's under the strain of providing, supporting. Yadda Yadda. And there isn't always someone to listen to your ranting and moaning. Parenting is not an easy road. It's bloody hard work.

what a crap day !

So Keith takes the day off work and we're planning to join our Aussie mates, Graham & Gayle, at Colchester Zoo. Everyone's raved about the place, and because I've driven up to Chelmsford before (and it was a crap journey), I know the train is the way-to-go. we check the times the night before and see that it'll be a mere 50 minutes from Stratford (our connection from the Jubilee line) to Colchester.
In summary it took us 3 and 3/4 hours to get there with the crap (read, 'staff attitude problems' and 'a lack of ticketing facilities') at Stratford station, too many changes to make, and eventually pulling into Colchester to discover that no-one there knew which bus to take to the Zoo. So we got a cab.
Things improved quite a lot from there: We spent a few hours with the mates (and their 3 children) and saw some great animals - tigers, lions, zebra, giraffes, rhino, crowned cranes, monkeys. Keith was delighted because we managed to stay until twilight and capture some lovely shots, including one of an aardvark.
We got a bus back into town, and then a connecting bus to the station where we'd (please God), get the train back to Stratford. Unfortunately the second bus was driven by minion of the dark lord, who felt that giving me lip while I was trying to pay for our tickets was the way forward. That's public service for you eh ?
What a bloody awful experience ! Why do we bother with public transport ? It cost us more than £40 for travel (PLUS entry to the zoo) and I feel like if we'd stayed at home, we'd have had a jolly nice time.
My advice : don't believe everything they promise you on websites. Most of the time it's just idle chatter. They've got nothing to lose telling you that the journey is easier than it turns out to be. Nothing.

do I sound angry ?

It can be done

I've just returned from 11 days in South Africa alone, where I was greeted with some scorn and quite a lot of incredulity. So many women asked, "How can you leave your baby in London, and with Keith?", and "How will he cope?". Blokes said to me, "I could never look after our little X. It would be impossible." Uh huh, raaaaiiiitttt.
All I can say is Keith did a great job despite his claims that he'd left a trail of destruction in his wake, and had lost things at every outing, and that the house was a tip. All the major appliances are still here and functioning. Zack is fit and well. I could see the floor in the lounge on my return. There don't appear to be any new stains on the carpet. The bottles, spoons and forks were washed up and there was even a bunch of pretty roses in a vase for the wife. It goes to show, don't it ?
I think it's evidence that I've moved on from the South African psyche: "you're the chick, it's your problem not mine (the kid that is)." And so has Keith. He is a completely able father, who has managed to feed, cloth, transport, love and discipline our son while I've been away. And has also had an immense amount of fun and frustration doing so. These are all good things.
Zack isn't a baby anymore, and is far from helpless. He understands instructions, he can tell when we're proud of him and when we want to play. He also know when he's being naughty and if he's going to get into trouble for what he's doing. I missed him terribly, but I needed to go and attend family celebrations. It all worked out very well.