Scene stealer

We are waiting, albeit impatiently, for baby sister to be born, with Alannah convinced that SHE is the one who will do the 'catching'. It is dawning upon her, that BS will not be able to go on the slide, or write, or play tea-parties immediately. We are doing a lot of watching of videos as Alannah went through her own 'blob' stage.

Oozing her lineage

"Don't put your finger there ... BECAUSE ... this will HURT you." "It will STING!" But then ... Buddy will kiss it better. He is in there ... on your BED."

Alannah comes from a long line of shop-keepers - starting from her 4 times great grandfather, John Dunstan Tonkin, who was an iron-monger in suburban Melbourne from the Victorian gold rush until the boom of the 1890s. Then there was her two times great grandmother, Sylvia Irene Veronica Cole, who kept shops in Crows Nest, Gosford, and Hornsby for the entirety of the first half of the twentieth century. So it comes as little surprise when we slaved during our record breaking hot day of 45.9C to create a cup-cake shop. All baked on the premises, regardless of the temperatures beyond the shuttered windows, and closed doors.

Colouring her world

First she drew a circle, anti-clockwise. Then, she said she was adding an eye, and then another eye. I asked if she thought she might add a mouth. A smile twitched at the corners of her own mouth, and her little index finger came up toward me. I asked if her person had any hair, and she chanted 'zig-zag, zig-zag' as the tresses of golden hair fell around the face. I knew I would have to be quick-pronto with the camera, as very soon lines were all over and through it.

Terrible Twos

The 'terrible twos' is a label, and like all labels, is probably as much wrong as it is right. However, being no expert, doesn't stop me from having a firmly held view. As a child progresses from two to three, they start to understand how the world works. And, they start to understand that they can shape some of that world: with actions, and with words. Alannah has quite firm opinions. She knows what she likes to wear, and what she will not wear. Yesterday, she got the sleeves of her trakkie-top wet when playing with water (because I forgot to suggest she roll them up). Nothing I offered her in exchange was acceptable: there was a nice long-sleeved skivvy, but she would not part with the pink t-shirt; there was a nice thin, red cardigan, but she was adamant. She wanted the trakkie-top again. So, I rolled the sleeves up a bit. She is starting to try on some negative behaviours; I think mainly to see what my reaction will be. Not me, because it is me. But me, as the supervising adult. She was relieved when I asked her if she would like to go to the 'thinking place', which is a time-out, circuit-breaker concept that Kirsten has explained to me. I have an idea of how to ameliorate some of this: if it works! I am going to introduce a new activity each session, and make sure that the activity is a challenge for her. She has adored the 'Guess Who' game since I brought it out, and has played with it incessantly. She knows many of the cards off by heart: the names of the people, I mean. But this will have run its course come next week. So today, in preparation, I reorganised my courtyard, a change being as good as a holiday. I like to operate in 'rooms' - I garden like that, too. Change activity by moving to another physical area. I am devising an activity circuit: drop balls into tube; throw small bean bags through hoop; hop into a square and pick up stone; go through tunnel; and, limbo under a rod. I will also get a version of the game 'Twister', as she is a very physical girl. This week, being nice and warm both days, we were solidly back into having water in our sand-pit. Hence, the top images. On Wednesday, she spends the morning with me, and after her sleep Grandad picks her up and takes her to the park to play, if the weather is good. Hence, the bottom images.

'Guess Who' has gone anime

On Monday gone, I introduced Alannah to the board game, 'Guess Who', using the very same copy that I played with my children 25 years ago. The box is stamped 1980. There is only one of the flip-characters broken, all the cards are present, and each of the little yellow scorer pegs is even still present. However, of the 24 characters, only 5 are women, and the deck is not very multicultural. Suffice to say, I suspect it reflects 1950s England, perhaps.

However, when I went into Dymocks in George Street (knowing they have two walls of board-games), I was immensely disappointed. The version on the shelf was called 'Guess Who Extra' and was electronic. Not what I am after for a 2 year old ... nor probably an any-year-old. At the age of two, I modify the rules to suit her evolving ability. We do not play the 'identify by elimination' aspect of the game ... as yet. I will say to her 'Knock over anyone who has glasses'. Which she does with gusto. However, she is not ready for the converse of that 'Knock over anyone who does not have glasses'. The other thing about the electronic version is that the price tag said $65. A misprint, surely.

I did find and (*she blushes*) buy a Travel-sized version put out by a competitor called 'Who's Who'. However, everything is way too small, and the little 'lids' get stuck. Nowhere near as much fun as the larger version. So I came back here and googled, which, yes yes, I should have done to begin with. There is a non-electronic version available, and it has been updated. I include a view of it here. Look at those characters! How 'Astro Boy' are they? Yuck yuck yuck. And their essential identifying characteristics are less obvious. I reckon they are, anyway. However, they are equally divided re gender representation nowadays: 12/12 a piece. However, they also have additional sheets that are able to be downloaded and printed off at home to freshen-up the characters. Some simply do not appeal, but that is probably old sick-in-the-mud me. Characters like: Dinosaurs, Creepy Creatures, Easter, and others. The differences are not defined enough. However, I did not mind the Sports sheet, and will get a bit of higher GSM board to print them out for next week.

Trooping the boards

Dolly, Sheep-sheep, and Punchinello were unwitting participants in this tableau. I always ask if I can bring my camera out and take photographs. She is okay with it perhaps 50% of the time. Alannah is just becoming comfortable with singing songs. It takes a lot of effort to develop a 'singing voice'. But then, she also has to remember the aounds to make, more than the words to sing. She does enjoy it.


I sing songs at the drop of a hat. When the local bus comes around the corner, I burst into song with its call sign and its destination and whether it is going up the hill or down the hill. I can never remember the latest 'tune' I used, but the musical phrases are all found in English folk songs of the 19th century. Often handed down to us as nursery rhymes.


This little song and dance was to 'Baa Baa Black Sheep', which I have now found as a video ... a dreaded video. Why they insist on having adverts in a nursery rhyme, confounds me. So just ignore, or remove the advert near the beginning. Instead of one of the bags being for the little boy down the lane, I always allocate it to 'Alannah Jane' who lives down the lane.


There are so many maturing signs going on at the moment, not just evidenced in the singing. We are also getting a more regular timetable. The mornings are a bit cold (and often wet) to be in the courtyard, so the day kicks off with sorting and colouring-in at the dining room table. We have morning tea about 10am which is followed by a 30 minute reading session. then we are outside until lunch just before midday, with a sleep starting about 12:30pm. I have a firm pattern with getting her to sleep which involves singing about 15 nursery rhymes. I am trying to find time to put these into a book for her upcoming 2nd birthday. Can you believe that Alannah will be 2 years old in under a month!


There is another reading session during the afternoon period, and I ensure there is a madcap chase-each-other session with dress-ups and singing (again!). This week just gone, street-watching came back into vogue, with Alannah even waving to people when prompted. It is astounding how many people wave and smile at her - young people as well as old. We are often out there now with a cat plonked on each of the gate posts, so I guess it is a cute sight.

Who doesn't like NOISY!

Being overhung with deciduous trees, and three story terraces, the courtyard is a challenge in winter, especially if the wind is whipping the leaves around our ankles. But, being troopers (read pig-headed and determined), we carry on regardless. Once we have surmounted the contretemps of the necessity for jackets and beanies. One out of two aint bad ...

We cycle through games and activities. Today's 'must-do' is tomorrow's 'meh'! And 'street-watching' is (temporarily, I'm sure) shelved for the mentally challenging game of 'Noisy'. Remember those little book-shop stuffers (like jelly beans in the check-out at Woolies), the Mister Men books, and their female counterpart. One of them is a 'noisy'. But they aint seen nutin' till they experience my Little Miss Noisy.

She did not need much, indeed any, encouragement to embrace this game whole-heartedly, and to recognise its potential in a myriad of situations. Take a plastic container (like an ex-yoghurt tub) and partly fill it with metal bells, like Morris Dancers have on their socks. Ensure the lid is held on tightly, then shake for all your worth, at the same time yelling at the top of your voice NOISY. Hunch your shoulders, put your finger to your lips, keep your hand still and whisper 'quiet'. Then seamlessly hit the noisy option again. Presto! A game is born.

Of course, there is nothing like a pesky adult to reverse the labels for the action, and, initially cause confusion, then the peak of hilarity. Ah, yes ... the Noisy/Quiet game is a wonder of the modern universe.

At Ma's Place

Frequently, the weather dictates what we do when Alannah comes over to Ma's place to play. My courtyard is wonderful in summer, but quite chilly in winter, requiring a jacket and hat most of the day. If Ma does not wear her jacket and hat, very quickly Alannah dispenses with her's, too. Lucky that Ma is a skinny little runt!

We have moved out of the 'street watching' phase. We used to do two sessions of at least 30 minutes each, but some days now we don' clamber onto the courtyard gate at all. This week it was replaced by cooking.

Fraught times for Ma! Don't fall off the bench. Don't burn yourself. Where did I leave the veggie knife. Ah, no! That isn't cooked yet. And yet internalising it, and presenting an air of equinimity to the outside world. Cooking involved gnocchi with mince, garlic, asparagus, broccolini, a tomato and basil prepared sauce, and fresh chives. Not forgetting the pinch of salt. Just like piggy requests from the picnicking otters in Helen Oxenbury's 'It's My Birthday'.

As Alannah's fine motor skills develop, we are doing more colouring, cutting'n'pasting, sorting and 'writing'. I collect as many little plastic containers as possible and she sorts by shape and colour, endlessly. Tip up. Then 'Abracadabra. Kazoo. Kazaam. Mix me up as much as you can.' You might know it as shuffling.

The toy box (what a grand investment that was!) contains an array of writing implements. One such, is a bag of very small crayons that are generally too small for her wee hands, but good for sorting into colours. And, Alannah discovered this week, for rolling under the coffee table to Sellie, who proceeded to tap it this way'n'that with with her pink-tipped paws, rolling upside down, and suddenly dashing off out of the room to reenter by another door. All to squeals of delight from Alannah.

And then our big 'advance' of the week. I have often sat Alannah at my computer desk, and written words on scrap pieces of paper for her to 'write' as well. She took to this with avengeance this week. Including a one hour session which she allowed me to photograph. No writing from me. And very little colour. She insisted she was not 'colour in' but writing. And that obviously was only done with a black felt pen. You will see a wide variety of pencil grips still employed. I am trying to show her the classic grip and she often gets it. But the dagger grip is a starting point. She can now do vertical and horizontal lines. Exaggerated arcs. And wee pinched little lines. This is the writing. And she knows what she wants to write. Telling me Mummy, Daddy, book, car, cat dog, circle, oval, star. Each time she does an up-then-down mark she says 'Ma' and it is easy to see why. Check out the angle of the head, and the tongue. There was a lot of effort devoted to this session this week. I think she might be ready for her own packet of textas. Only for use up here on my computer table. And, yes, I do have to take to my tabletop with jiffy and a scrubber to remove the over enthusiatic lines!

Talking the talk

I had a wonderful play date today with my 21 month grand-daughter, Alannah. It was a bleak, grey day where the mercury did not break 20C - which is cold for Sydney. We both kept our jackets on all day, but still spent most of the day in the courtyard.

Mummy and Daddy wore flowers in their hair. Mummy also wears a flag. Then you see the apartment and the steps we built.

We had two sessions of 'street watching', two sessions of Lego, read the same book twice ('A Fly went By'), sorted the slide pins into colour tubs and made lots of noise shaking them, then wrote a card which I put in the post immediately after her father arrived to take her home. While we were street-watching today, we watched the post-man cross the road with his heavy back-pack and his fist-ful of letters to deliver. Alannah will find the card in her letter-box tomorrow, which is her home-day with Mummy.

Ma frequently laid down on the job. Whereas, Alannah was 'taken' by her self-named figure, being given a lot of work to do.

When I want to take photographs, I always ask her permission. Often she says ‘NO’ (or today I even heard the variation ‘nope’), but every-so-often I will get a shy grin, a direct look and an ‘Okay’. Recently, on e-Bay I purchased a whole bunch of Duplo figures, because I want the play to revolve around people. I guess we have over 50 now. So we named them – Mummy, Daddy, Alannah, Ma, Grandad, and Pam. And then she spent ages opening the windows, getting the figures out, naming them, and returning them to different windows. She chats continuously, and rarely needs me to interject. Although, I chat about what I am playing, too. She is very good, now, in constructing with Duplo. She cannot build a house or anything like that. That is not what I mean, but she can join blocks together and sort the blocks into same-piles, either by size or by colour.

And our friend just likes to be with us and hear our chatter. When we play Lego he ‘sleeps’ often with one eye open. When we ‘street-watch’, he sits on the brick gate post beside Alannah.

Did I hear someone holler 'play'?

In another place, I am having a discussion about 'play' and how it differs now from when I was a child in the early '50s. I guess we look at our own upbringing with rose-coloured glasses to some extent, and we may also forget some of the things we did and why. I cannot remember back to when I was 18 months old, as Alannah is. However, I do have strong memories from when I was 5 until I was, let's use 10. For some of that time I lived in Hornsby, and for some of that time I lived on a farm outside Denman in the Upper Hunter Valley.

I had neither play-dough nor a sand pit, but I did Matchbox cars, and I did have a dirt patch in which to play.


This week, playing at Ma's, we introduced play-dough. I have no idea whether Alannah has used play-dough much before. She was hesitant on the Monday, but by the Wednesday she took to it with alacrity. For her, it has a very physical proponent. She like the feel of it, and the fact that she can mould it and pull it to bits. She is learning to roll it in her hands, and by next week maybe a ball will result. On Wednesday, I made her a Daddy and I made her a Mummy. We made balls, and snakes, and stars.

We have played with a sand-pit all year. We have play with small cars and trucks for longer than this year. But for the first time on Wednesday, we combined the two. We also used our collection of rocks, and shells, and leaves, to decorate the castle in the middle of our sand-pit, while the trucks brrrrmmmed around in the moat. I suspect this game with be expanded this coming week.

Metamorphosis

It had to happen, of course. That my courtyard garden change into a toddler's playground. Oh, the plants are all still there. They are still growing, and being infested, and flowering, or not. The veggies were a one-season wonder. I get more pleasure from the annuals and the succulents. And they have fewer bugs.


But now that I have a toddler over to play twice a week, THAT is the focus of my courtyard. So, I have decided to transfer the stories about our play-dates from 'Plumbing' to 'Dolwendee'. Back in the years 1982 to 1985 I ran a Family Day Care in my garden in St Ives. The house there was transformed, too. Down on side, there was a go-cart track, with tyres, and planks and a skid pattern into the wall at the bottom. I guess you could say that I have form.

Anyways, look at the difference between these images of Alannah painting, and the shots last week of her first foray (at Ma's place) into painting. For starters, we ditched the smock. Mainly because Alannah insisted 'No more'. Then we got proper artists brushes rather than brushes used by house-painters. And and and ... I put loads my paint into the pots, which caused her to grunt with pleasure.

*Hand on heart* ... this was all Alannah's work, this painting. I did not guide the brush in any way. She would look at me in that way that says 'are you nuts?'