Down's Syndrome screening

Got a letter from the hospital this week, to say that our Down's syndrome screening test results are in. Obviously they can't tell whether the baby has Down's but can give you a risk indication. Because I'm over 35 years old, the NHS offer a Nuchal Translucency scan as standard at 13-14 weeks. My results have come back as "low". There's a lot to think about there... I'm not the worrying kind, so I've tried not to think too much about what we would do if we found out there was something wrong with the baby. The language is also very emotive - "wrong" can be a horrible word when you have a Down's child - nor is "disabled" very helpful. "Challenged" has become more of a joke, than a describer. I wonder about 'dis'abled and 'un'able? When they say a child has a learning 'disability', it makes it sound like it can be overcome - and I suppose in some cases in can. But what about those children who don't overcome ? Are they labeled 'unable'. All a bit un-politically correct, and bad psychology to say "can't" I suppose.

I'm still feeling pretty tired despite being at 15 weeks now. I keep wondering what's happened to that 'energy boost' I was supposed to get after the first trimester? Maybe parenting a toddler took it away. My back, or rather my coccyx is killing me - I keep getting nasty twinges when I'm sitting on the floor (you do that alot with a toddler), when I'm lying down (as often as I can), and when I'm walking. Funnily enough, walking in Wales with Zack in the backpack - all 17.6kgs of him - was really not painful at all. I would say that's a testimony to my Merrell's: definitely the most comfortable outdoor shoes I've ever owned; probably helped that my posture was more 'normal' because I was worrying about the backpack instead of the pain.
Zack is thriving and I made a note of his height on his 2nd birthday : 88cm tall.

musical memory

This is one of those "chuckle" moments.... We were driving to mum & tot's group today and Rihanna's "Umbrella" was playing on the radio. After lunch I caught Zack singing, ' ella, ella, eh eh eh'. How fabulous is that ?

Two years old

He got a micro scooter for his birthday. They are already very attached, so getting dressed was a saga.

Our son's 2nd birthday, and we have the standard parent response : "Can't believe that it's exactly two years since we were sitting, stunned in a hospital ward, staring at a tiny baby, sleeping soundly". The time has certainly been a fast train rushing by. Mum tells me the time goes even faster when they're teens, which I can believe because I feel like we live each and every day with Zack - at his pace - sharing his discoveries, developments, experiences. When he's a teen we'll be sharing so little of his day-to-day life.

Zack says "Happy Birthday ebbybody", because he doesn't like it when we sing only to him. So Happy Birthday everyone celebrating with us !

Second Scan of baby #2

For the uninitiated this is just another of those wierd ultrasound pics with blobs of white and black and who-knows-what-they're-looking-at ? For the rest, it's a moment of excitement and joy at seeing that our little bub is doing oh-so-well. Compared to the last scan, baby now fills all the uterine space (how fast they grow!) I'm feeling less sick in the evenings, and I'm getting over my aversion to coffee shops (tho' still not drinking the stuff), and the tummy is visible to all. We finally seem to be "in" the system, following a few false starts with our local midwives. We're grateful that we'll be in line to deliver at the new Barkantine Birthing Centre, which is not far from our flat.
There won't be more scans for some time - next one due only at 20 weeks, ie. May - so we'll have to make do with watching the tummy grow, sore back, painful hips, smaller meals, heartburn, ah yes... now I remember.

It's another year for babies: so far we've welcomed little Jamie Hundermark in Johannesburg, Jaykob in New Zealand, Abigail in Romford, Julia in Dublin, Holly in Jo'burg and now baby Samantha in Reading. Busy time eh ? Congrats everyone.

Samantha born to Karen & Andrew on 8 March

Ruby's 2nd birthday

Pudding & cake time ! the kids tuck in.

Zack tentatively holds one of the guinea pigs

Caitlin tickled pink with the purring guinea pig

Caitlin & Anokye, Trish & Amy

Who dat ?

I feel like my emotions have run the full gamut of late, from delight and joy at the things Zack says and does, to pure desperation when he is 'contrarian' and will not do anything you ask him to. This coupled with the announcement that we are expecting our second child in September, means that I really am not the most rational being in E14 (our postal code) right now.
I was very grateful when chatting to an acquaintance 2 weeks ago, that her son was also a head-banger, and now a biter. She was very sympathetic about it and also very relaxed, which gave me hope for the future. I know it's 'just a phase', but that's no comfort when you're right in it, so talking to someone who's been through it makes me feel a little better.
Zack's latest thing is to say "who dat?" when he hears a noise outside / in another room. It is just too cute. He'll often suggest some answers too, but they're pretty repetitive, "Daddy?" or "Kelly?" or "Nana?". Another thing that happens all the time is him saying "Amy's house" and now "Harriett's house", when we're in the car - like he's telling me where we're going. The truth is that Amy lives in Australia - which I've explained numerous times (with map), and we visit Harriett on Thursdays. It's amazing actually that he already associates directions in the car with a destination.
Another association that he's got sorted out, is that waiters or waitresses bring apple juice. So when we're in a restaurant with friends, Zack will catch the eye of the passing server and say "Apple juice" in an expectant kind of way. At this point, I'll get the enquiring look from aforementioned staff member. Then Keith and I will laugh. Remarkable little people.

Night terrors

Zack wearing Kelly's UGG boots

I'm writing tonight because of the absence of something, rather than the presence of it. Zack has had episodes in the past where he's woken sometimes once, sometimes three times a night, crying uncontrollably and will not be comforted. Books call it "night terrors" but I'm not 100% convinced. Zack wakes up (or seems to be awake), but is really freaking out completely. You try and pick him up and he thrashes and twists so that you cannot hold him. Any attempts to sooth him verbally or touch him / stroke his hair, encourages more violent protestation. It's really very distressing as a parent. On the positive side however, he goes back to sleep quite quickly without more intervention, or the need for milk / a blanket.
And to conclude, it's the absence of these episodes that I'm celebrating. We haven't really had any in quite some time (remember mummies measure everything days and hours), so I'm very, very relieved. It also equates with a better night's sleep all 'round, so I'm grateful for that too.
Now all I have to get right is limiting the liquids in the evenings so we aren't waking up soaking wet. Ah potty training – I see thee but I know thee not.

First Scan of baby #2

so much

You can well imagine how I'm feeling with more than 8 weeks of development to catch up on here on the blog. Zack has grown and matured so much - he is STILL biting (worse than before but more rarely), but knows how to be completely charming, flash that smile, work the room. He can be very affectionate when he wants to be, yet he also knows how to wield his will. He wishes everything could be his way, but ain't that the way of toddlers ? It seems like time is rushing away, as he gets more confident on playground equipment, speaks more, understands more (uh-oh), and sleeps better at night (thank the Good Lord)! He is not a baby any more and having weaned him of his dummy while in NZ, we feel like most of the hard stuff is done. Potty training is still a hope and a dream - altho' he's quite curious he has no interest in sitting on the toilet or a potty, or anything. He can name it, and sometimes tell me when it's happening but that's as far as we've gone. The general consensus is that they get there in their own time, so I'm not pushing. What's worse : a 4-year-old in nappies, or a 4-year-old with a dummy ? Attending nursery is going to cure Zack of the former because in the UK children have to be potty-trained to attend school. We've ticked off the latter, so I suppose we're on the road, one way or the other. I do pity parents with school children, with dummy in mouth, being pushed in a pram, but there you go. We all make choices.

I thought it was going to much harder than it was.

Ah, the joy of antipodean summers – the inflatable pool / castle
includes hours of fun at no charge, weather virtually guaranteed.

Visit an associated site

Hi regular blog readers. If you're looking for news on what Zack's been up to then please visit the blog I'm keeping while we travel around New Zealand...

http://nzr0adtrip.blogspot.com/

See you there for the travelling toddler news.

vocabulary explosion

Zack is entering the field of speech with gusto. The vocabulary to date is :
Mikkis = christmas, man, morning, two = his favourite number, two dummies, gone (open hands), bikkit = biscuit, neigh = horse, moo = cow, baa = sheep, goggo, boat, mahkoo = monkey, milk, apple, 'na = banana, chicken = meat or fish, zack, yes, ta-too = thank you, please, go, jump, ladder, whee = slide in playground or any slope to run down, bird, duck, cat, duggy = digger, dogggie = dog, bag, open, close, ut = up, down, door, teeth, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, toes, knees, tongue, tars = stars, ball, truck, shoe-shoes, car, ow & sore, sock, wet, dirty, bee, glasses, belly-button, hullo, bye bye, mummy, daddy, no-daddy, amy, baby, bok' = brocolli, cheese, banket = blanket, potty, poo, wee-wee, bite, stop, choo-choo = train, taxi, row = as in row row row your boat, pull, push, book, cooking, by'ikle = bicycle, tower, tunnel, key, rain, puddle, mountain, beep beep - reversing or excuse me. He tends to lisp his "s's" which I'm sure will pass in time, so we're doing well.

sugarlump

my son is a genius - he can jump !!!
I'm not sure what this means, but I am well impressed that he can do the two-feet-off-the-ground thing. My book says that 25 - 30 months is the time for jumping, so.....
Zack is 4 months ahead on the jumping scale.

Hope all my competitive mum friends are reading this and feeling Whoah! intimidated.

You see I can say that because Zack walked at 16 months, has just started putting sentences together, etc. etc. I must celebrated the small victories - this is a competition don't you know ?!

Damn You Peppa Pig !

For my sins, I bought a copy of Peppa Pig's DVD. We now watch Peppa every other day. I get disappointed when I put on CBeebies and they're showing an episode we have on DVD, eg. Piggie in the Middle. Lord! You gotta know things are going spanner when you're lipsynching Peppa Pig while making breakfast.

So you're wondering why I'm cursing her name... well, L-A-U-N-D-R-Y is why! Zack is a mimic. Which means, that he also "loves" jumping in muddy puddles. So, Wednesday morning, we're on our way to the mum & tots group and there are puddles everywhere. EVERYwhere! Zack's little trousers are too long, so I roll them up. Which means that there are lovely (read v absorbent) cotton linings on the outside, sucking up every little splash and sploosh. All the puddles are mixed with petrol, car oil, grime, yuck, eek and blah ! How on earth am I going to get all that gunk out of his trousers when we get home ? Where do I put his little soggy legs when he's in the car ?

Damn you Peppa !

Blimey

The words are just tumbling out, but they're matched with the emerging will. Zack is stubborn and knows exactly what he wants - how he inherited those traits from us, I do not know? Latest "strop techniques" are slapping, pinching, and the newest of the new - hitting his head against whatever's nearby. It's fine when it's your chest, but not funny when it's your throat, neck or face. He has started biting his own hand again, when he can't get his way in public.
I am incredibly torn about the whole dummy issue at present. I take a firm line during the day, and don't let him have it unless he's sleeping. But the truth is that he sleeps at nursery without it, Mondays and Tuesdays. I do give in when he's going off the deep-end and we need to be somewhere (public) for an extended period of time - if I don't, any kind of social interaction becomes untenable, and I feel "ruled" by a beligerent 20 month old. The truth is that it REALLY calms him down, and will change the situation completely, if he has it. I can see that the Demise of the Dum must come. Perhaps sooner rather than later eh ?

Today we said "mango" for the first time, and we've been spending alot of time on "look" too. I have said "do this, NOW" alot this week, so that's been incorporated too. Altho' saying the word does not equate with obedience, or a sense of urgency.

I have bought a book on development so that I can keep pace with things for the next few years. It's entitled "Bright Start", and is broad in it's scope. After reading the first few chapters on Zack's age group, I was very encouraged by their stand on 'sticking to your guns' (ie. boundaries), being the best gift you can give your child. Zack doesn't like "No" one little bit. A friend of mine is currently working in a social services position where they remove children at risk, from their families, and she said that most of the teenagers she deals with who have huge problems have been allowed to rule their families from day 1 - no boundaries only leads to disaster.

Are you afraid to parent ?
It has occurred to me tho' that living here in the UK, creates its own kinds of phobias. You are always told by "authority figures" (sometimes an author, sometimes a govt child-care worker, sometimes a TV guru, sometimes by another mum, very often tho' it's source-less) that you aren't equipped for this job : You don't really know how to feed your child, discipline your child, raise your child, x your child, y your child. As a result, most parents, who are already feeling decidedly skittish sans-sleep, are driven to the mires of insecurity. "Yes, you're right," they cry, "I am rubbish at all this. Please won't you sell me the means to do it." [Ka-ching!]
Talking to a mate who has 2 kids and is raising them on the continent, it was mentioned that it is not out of the ordinary for a parent to leave their child sleeping at home in the evening, and quickly nip out for 20 minutes to the newsagent, or a pub. Yes, and that means exactly what you're all thinking : the child is at home ALONE. Now, in the UK, you would be imprisoned for that. Funny how social conventions change, and nowadays are underpinned by this culture of fear:

• There are paedophiles everywhere – I can't turn away from my child in a park
• Someone might break in and take him/ her – I can't leave my child asleep in the car, in my garage
  
• I can't nip down to the station and pick up my husband (because it's late and freezing) - there might be a fire at home, and there'd be no-one to rescue our child

Yes, these are all very plausible threats, but exactly HOW real are they ? What are the stats ? How many paedophiles live in my street ? How many kids get stolen out of locked cars, in closed garages, in middle-class neighbourhoods, every day ?

Keith: In each of these scenarios, the consequences for our lives (ie. the loss of a child) is SO great, that any discussion of the realistic probabilities is overshadowed by emotive debate. We regularly put our children into situations (eg. letting them play on a swing) where the probability of the loss of their life is far higher than the above scenarios, but because these are the ones that make news headlines, we react irrationally (with fear) to them.

Toilet Training begins:
We recently bought a toilet seat and step. Zack is like clockwork in the evenings, and will make a poo straight after dinner. We are yet to catch him in time to deposit it in the loo, but he is learning that it goes into the toilet and then flushes it away with a 'bye, bye' to boot! I am encouraged by his awareness. We may get him started in the next little while - won't that be wonderful ?

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.

Och Aye Wee Laddie

Brushing teeth with the first brush we could get our hands on.

Our home in the Highlands for a few days in September - Gairloch

Zack and I catching up on some sleep after lunch.

Wonderful time with Pia & Geoff

We've just spent ten wet days in the Scottish Highlands. Zack made friends with man and wee beasties alike, and seems to have mastered a few new words. To the current vocabularly we can add,'Juice, Duck, Ladder, Down, Pughhghgghghg (the sound of a car crashing), Car, Bus'. It's amazing actually, how much he understands these days. His favourite of all time tho' is 'Car' - said with such conviction that it's hard not to respond. Bless his little socks.
New frustration mechanism is biting his own hand - usually the right one. So he has lots of marks on the top of his hand. Oh dear me.

He has so enjoyed the time with my mum - I discovered them in bed this morning reading Richard Scarry classics, with loads of pointing and "Car" exclamations.

This evening, sadly, is 'farewell Nanna'. It's all gone by so quickly.


Zack tells us all about Scotland from his guidebook

dream

I don't set alot of store by what I dream at night, but last night I had an odd one: I was sitting on a very blue & green mohair type rug with a friend of mine from PE, Fiona. We were having a long chat about life and kids, and then I noticed that someone had spilled, what looked like Calpol, on the rug. I rushed off and fetched a sponge and some soap and tried to get it out. It was really difficult (Mohair is so fibrous), and by the end of the dream I remember not being completely satisfied with the results.

meaning ?