Emily's reactions to Olympic goals

We watched the Canada vs USA gold medal hockey game tonight on telly.

I thought it would be nice for Emily to stay up so she could say in years to come she witnessed Canada getting gold on home ice.

Traditionally, Emily's broken out into crying when subjected to loud noises - bangs, yelling, etc. As Canada fought their way to victory, we had to temper each goal celebration with a hasty "yay Emily and get her involved." Of course, when the USA retaliated, the only voice in the room was Emily going a touch hysterical.

It's hard being a parent.

When the game ended in a draw after regulation time (around 10.15p), it was decided Emily needed to go to bed. Not only did we teach her to celebrate goals, we also kept her up WAY past her bedtime.

It's hard being a GOOD parent.

23 months going on 12

As Emily races towards her second birthday, her personality is becoming much more apparent. Her cheeky grin, her predilection  to making her teddies kiss, and her "terrible twos" temper.

In the past, Em has become moody for one of a couple of reasons - tired, hungry or thirsty. Now, she seems to be figuring out what all parents dread - when something's not going her way, crying and screaming help!

It doesn't help matters that she STILL can't talk, so when a happy go lucky mood turns to a sea of tears in seconds, it leaves Sue and I more than a little perplexed. Skipping to worse case scenarios, I continue to imagine that something's exploded inside (appendix perhaps?) or she's been poisoned and THIS is her last breath.

Of course, it's more often than not her attempt to tell us something, generally that she's not down with the current situation - don't want to be in the pram, grocery shopping isn't a job fit for little girls or there's no way in hell that bath water is going over this head.

All in all, I realise that the placid happy ALL the time Emily is a thing of the past, and that trying to sort out her moods and crying sessions is just the latest in a long line of "I have no clue what's going on with my child" scenario that I will continue to face long into the future

Bean bag sleeping station

Now that we've moved into the new place two things have happened - all our stuff is in one place and Emily feels a bit out of place. No longer are we in the two bed flat, the only home she's ever known. We're in a 3 bed house that's quite odd for her.

However, one plus side for her is that we've been able to get the bean bag out of storage. I imagine all kids love bean bags, but the last two nights running I've come into the living room to find her fast asleep, ensconced in all sorts of beany goodness. It's meant that she's actually fallen asleep when she's been tired, and not done her usual "fight it" stance which usually ends up with her going to bed way too late, and with dark rings under her eyes.

I'd like to think this scenario will go some way to acclimatising her to the new house, as going back to the familiar flat really isn't an option.

Juggling work and children

So far Sue and I have been pretty blessed with regards to our jobs and the impact on Emily.

Today, however, was a different matter. Our firm has recently expanded into a town about 90 minutes away. Today was a day I was to work over there. Best estimate was that I wouldn't get back to pick Em up until about 6.30pm. Then the traffic hit.

Work have been really good about me leaving on time M-W as those are the days I pick Em up. Today was just a bit different, with a late meeting meaning we didn't get on the road until 5.30p, the time I'm usually racing off to get Emily.

Thankfully Sue was able to wing her way out of work to get to Helen's, albeit over an hour later than the usual 6.00pm pick up time.

I'm just really glad we're able to maintain the juggling act of work and child most of the time. If this was the rule, rather than the exception, I'd be a nervous wreck.

A brown present in the bath

We’ve had all sorts of bath time mishaps, including Emily watching the bath fill up and weeing all over the floor.

This evening, however, Emily raised the bar considerably. When I went in to get her out, she was floating around in a brown poo casserole. It was everywhere, all over her toys, lapping up around her legs… She was quite oblivious to it as well which was funny.

For the last few weeks, she’s been doing wicked wet dumps, so the only silver lining you could conceivably grab from this was the brown gifts were quite solid in nature. Solid that is, until I had to airlift them to the safety of the toilet, where they landed with a smeary wet thud.

Needless to say we hosed Em down AND her toys and lived to fight another - hopefully cack-free day!