19 January 2008

Fresh air, routines, and horrible bus journeys

Our weekly rhythms are getting more, well, formal I suppose. We seem to be up at a regular time, snacking napping and going out at regular times. The internal pattern of our days is working so well, and the flow of our week as activities come and go from the magnetic weekly chart, it all makes a kind of sense. Different every day but not in the most important thing - and although Morgan is really still breastfed totally on demand we have what I hate to call a timed schedule! Our habits have just fallen like this, without intent or plan, and against my personal inclination. I don't feel tied to the clock though, so it's all... Working. Not what I ever thought I would find myself writing in this or any life time.

Getting out every day is essential for me. I just feel so much calmer with them when we're out, and they listen to me more sharply through necessity when there is more going on. The fresh air matters too, all the more for not having much use of the garden yet. When we have a planned day of quiet around the house we have to break it up with a trip to the park across the way (still bereft of swings but not without trees) or a walk to the corner shop for milk or potatoes or similar. It seems very orderly - very what I read about other people and not ever to date about myself!

One thing Morgan is being really trying with is the bus journeys that are part of almost every day. She hates to be still right now, and always wants to explore everywhere properly. That includes busses and she will squirm, cry, try to pull herself out of the sling, cling to bars as we pass them, scratch and hit me, shout no no no no no NO, point at the floor and look cross at me, try to take my clothes off, anything to get me to release her to play.

Before it was enough if the bus was moving and she could see stuff but not any more. The only thing for it is to nurse her, big old baby that she is (including that lovely habit of turning around to loud noises exposing me to the world). Either that or put up with the screams all the way (and endure bruises and funny looks along with it) - it kind of makes a mockery of my "buggy free zone" badge on the change bag. In fact I'm tempted to remove it out of shame. I'm pretty certain that she'd be just as keen to be out and playing if I tried to take the buggy into town.

She's finding things so frustrating, everything is set up to stop her from trying all the things she wants to try and doing all the great fun things she's sure she can do. Life is not very friendly to small toddlers. The only way I can think of making it easier on her is to walk into town every time but that's pretty tiring for Jenna's little legs. It's just not fair. She also thinks that teeth are not very fair - she has three and they hurt her. She is quite clear about what she wants me to do, take the owie away. She even points and gives me those expressive baby eyes.

Oh and Jenna magnetised the TV yesterday, fascinated by the lovely colours it turned. She told Martin when he got home, "I made a rainbow on the telly but Mummy didn't like it!"

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