Conflict resolution 101

Another new word from Thumper today. It happened when I was visiting a local primary school, the one that BallFiend will most likely attend.

The school tour was organised by The Librarian and when she told me about it, I asked if I could tag along. She was there with LittleMissF and The Bibliophile and LittleMissIz also joined the tour. Both MasterF and MasterW were at kinder. BallFiend was also meant to be at kinder, but was home sick, with Gran minding him.

So the six of us were in the Principal's office, listening to him talk about the school, or at least trying to with three active toddlers mucking about. I had taken along a magnetic drawing toy to keep Thumper entertained and when she left it unattended on the table, LittleMissF started to play with it. Moments later Thumper noticed and started to throw a tantrum... and then I heard it: "Mine!".

It seems we have arrived at the terrible twos, about 5 months early.
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Budding accountant?

This morning, Thumper amazed me again: she counted to three. I was preparing her nappies to go to creche and had two piled up already. She pointed to each one, saying 'one, two'. This wasn't surprising - she has been counting two items fairly often recently, blocks, fingers, etc.

But then I added a third nappy and she said 'one, two... (thinking for a moment), three'.
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Fully sick

The name of today is Monday. BallFiend has been learning the days of the week at kinder. He came home one day and said to me, "Mum, did you know there are seven days of the week?" and proceeded to recite them to me: "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Sunday, Friday". A few days later, he had it down pat: "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday".

Anyway, Monday is swimming lesson day, and an exercise in logistics requiring military precision:

• 7.00 am: Get up out of bed (harder than it sounds when Thumper has woken us up at 3 am and kept us up till after 4 am). Get myself showered and dressed, leaving DeepSpice to tend the young'uns... that is, start on getting them dressed and fed.
• 7.30 am: Discover that DeepSpice has got as far as getting breakfast cereals into bowls on the bench and milk out of the fridge and on to the bench, but not actually poured onto cereal yet. Spot kids playing, and still in PJs. 
• 7.35 am: Find clothes and dress the slippery eels kids. Dressing Thumper is relatively straight-forward, except for those times when she does her over-cooked spaghetti impersonation and goes all 'boneless'. Thankfully, she's decided to be al-dente today. BallFiend takes a lot longer because: (a) he dresses himself; (b) he has to hold a ball whilst dressing himself; (c) he has to run about the house playing with said ball in between putting on each item of clothing. 
• 7.45 am: Sit Thumper in the highchair with a bowl of Vitabrits. Place BallFiend's breakfast on the table. Sit down and attempt to eat my breakfast.
• 7.46 am: Get up to replenish Thumper's bowl of Vitabrits. 
• 7.50 am: Encourage, cajole, nag, suggest, nag, remind, nag and shout at BallFiend to: (a) come to the table; (b) eat his Vitabrits; (c) 'turn around and eat facing the table and stop dropping food on the floor!'; (d) 'keep eating and stop playing with your spoon/placemat/ball/other distraction'; until a sufficient quantity of breakfast has finally been eaten... 
• 7.59 am: Hand damp face-washer to BallFiend and use another to wipe up Thumper, the mess on and under the highchair. Extract Thumper from highchair. Quickly wipe up mess on floor before Thumper walks through it. 
• 8.00 am: Start packing kids bags, making snacks to take to pool. No sandwiches for lunch today because there's no bread, again. 
• 9.30 am: Encourage, cajole, nag, suggest, nag, remind, nag and shout at BallFiend to put shoes on, go to toilet, get ready to go, etc., etc. Change Thumper's nappy.
• 10.00 am: Departure, Take 1. Strap Thumper into car seat, ask BallFiend to get into car. BallFiend announces "I have a poo!". Unstrap Thumper and return to the house. Assist BallFiend with wiping up after the event. Encourage, cajole, nag, suggest, nag, remind, nag and shout at BallFiend to put his pants back on, flush toilet, wash hands, dry hands. All things that he would be able to do much more quickly if he would only put down that ball for a moment! 
• 10.15 am: Departure, Take 2. Strap Thumper into car seat, ask BallFiend to get into car. BallFiend rants that he wanted to be strapped in first. Briefly consider unstrapping Thumper then decide to weather BallFiend's tantrum instead, in the vain hope that he will learn an important life lesson (which he probably will, but that won't come back to benefit me for another 25 years). Strap BallFiend in. Strap myself in, start engine. Drive down driveway. Realise I have forgotten Thumper's blankie. Turn off car and return to house (leaving kids strapped in). If someone is fool enough to kidnap them, then so be it.
• 10.30 am: Departure, Take 3. Return to car with blankie. Drive off to Gran and GrandPaul's house. Deposit a protesting Thumper. On our way again.
• 10.45 am: Arrive at swimming pool. Quickly help BallFiend change into bathers (amazing how cooperative he becomes when it is all about getting into a swimming pool). Time for 10 mins of playtime until the lesson with Nuccio. 
• 11.00 am: Lesson starts. Quick chat with The Bibliophile, MasterW and LittleMissIz before nicking out to cafe to start reading the next book for my bookgroup. 

After the swimming lesson, I dragged a protesting BallFiend to the change rooms. He wants to play in the pool longer. But I know he needs to go and get fed, ASAP, before a hunger-induced meltdown occurs. We join The Bibliophile, MasterW and LittleMissIz at a local eatery, as we often do. Today it is Al-Alamy for some Lebanese pizzas. Part way through his cheese calzoni, BallFiend announces that he won't eat anymore because he feels sick. Not like him at all, as he loves cheese and simple carbs, which is all that the cheese calzoni is, and he is usually starving after swimming. But then he and MasterW start running around the store, so I dismiss the idea that he is really sick. They go up and down the aisles with all the loose nuts in tubs. I chase after him and tell him not to go near the nuts (BallFiend has a serious nut allergy).

Then BallFiend and MasterW settle in front of the drinks fridges and start rolling BallFiend's "soccerball beach ball with a bell in it" back and forwards, continuously getting in the way of passing customers. ThePupperMaker arrives with her son MasterD (whom we know from 3 year old kinder) and the ball rolling game gets taken up a notch, then it is back to running around the aisles next to the nuts.

We decide to make a hasty exit and The Bibliophile suggests that I drop BallFiend off at her place so that he and MasterW can have a play while I do my shopping. We wander back to our cars, with our cute little boys holding hands and chattering away to each other. Then head back to The Bibliophile's house. Once there I stop for a cup of tea and shortly after, BallFiend resumes his complaint about feeling sick and wanting to go home.

I dismiss this at first, as he often gets into a sullen mood these days with no obvious reason and/or claims to be sick as a means of getting his way. But as I watch him over my cup of tea, I can see him looking more and more pale. His posture looks awkward and uncomfortable. He says he is cold, yet it is a beautiful 24 degrees. I touch his torso and feel heat radiating from his skin. OK, so he has a temperature and he really is a bit sick. So I ask him to lie on the couch and wait while I finish my cup of tea and get ready to go. He refuses at first, insisting that he needs his dummy and blankie to rest. Five minutes later, he is sound asleep.

I carry him to the car and drive home. Then carry him to his bed. Seconds later he starts vomiting... I catch it in the only thing to hand: his precious blankie. I clean him up, take his temperature (just under 40 degrees) and give him some Panadol. Then he vomits again. But he feels marginally better now and lies down, falling straight back to sleep. By now it is about 3.30 pm and I ring Gran and GrandPaul to ask them to drive Thumper home.

At 7 pm, I wake BallFiend and check his temperature again. It's come down to 37.8 degrees and he is much chirpier, but still feels sick. So I get him ready for bed and convince him to drink a little bit of water (he refuses a Hydralyte iceblock or apple juice) . He's asleep again by 8 pm, and Thumper not long after.

Thankfully, has DeepSpice put on the washing, so I don't have to deal with cleaning up all the vomited on things (including my pants!). Here's hoping that he is all better tomorrow and more importantly, that Thumper doesn't catch it.
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Articulate tot

Today Thumper said

• towie (for tower) when building a tower of blocks
• "read this story", and then
• "put it in the zink" (sink) when she wanted to throw her toy in the sink

Since when does an 18 month old kid make a 5 word sentence!
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Tantrums 101

In the past week or so, Thumper has just started doing really cute tantrums... the sort where she lies on her back on the floor and kicks both her legs up and down simultaneously whilst crying in that put-on sort of way.
And it gets better, as of today, she no longer just drops to the floor, banging her head on the timber floor boards, instead she has learned to carefully get down on hands and knees, then carefully lie on her tummy, then carefully roll over on to her back and only then to proceed with the tantrum.

I remember SingingCheese telling me about toddlers who did this sort of thing when she was BallFiend's carer at creche, and that her strategy for dealing with tantrums (whatever the style of tantrum) is to simply laugh. Well, Thumper is certainly making it easy for me to laugh at her tanties!
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What was that Igglepiggle?

Act 1, Scene 1: 
The lounge room on a gloomy, grey afternoon. DeepSpice is reading "In the Night Garden... Igglepiggle: The bouncy jumping game!" to Thumper.

DeepSpice: Once upon a time in the night garden... Igglepiggle was out for a walk when he heard a funny noise. What noise did he hear, Thumper?

Thumper's rear end goes pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, right on cue!


DeepSpice and I laugh hysterically for a good few minutes. DeepSpice abandons the book-reading.
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Date Night

Way back in July last year, Tim Minchin announced his next tour: Tim Minchin Vs the MSO, playing in Melbourne on February 25 and 26, 2011.

At that time, Thumper was 10 months old and I figured that 7 months should be enough notice to organise a babysitter. So DeepSpice and I decided to go, and happily VolubleK decided to come too. (Unfortunately in December/ January, the timetable for VolableK's relocation to France was brought forward and so she ended up missing the concert. But at least she gets to be in France eating lots of CHEESE!) I reactivated my membership of the fan club so I could get the fan club code that would allow me to buy pre-sale tickets. (Unfortunately, the code wasn't sent to me, so I spent a few days of emailing the promoter before I eventually got the code 'violin' but still was about to secure reasonably good seats... row Y.)

Then I booked up Gran and GrandPaul for babysitting and went about distracting myself with other things so I wouldn't get too impatient waiting for the big night. 

At the time of booking the tickets, Thumper was happily breastfeeding morning, noon and night, and often having a few sups (snacks) in between, and neither of us had plans for her to stop. So I assumed I would still be feeding her in February and that we would go to the concert and come home straight after. 

However, on 13 January, Thumper suddenly stopped breastfeeding. Just like that. Up until the day before, she had been having 3 - 5 feeds a day. Coincidentally 13 January was also the ten-year anniversary of my mother's death. And on 14 January, it was my first day back at paid work after 18 months maternity and long service leave. A perfect storm and I felt miserable: grieving for my mum, greiving for the end of my breastfeeding relationship with Thumper and having to deal with all this on my first day at work. 

Thumper's weaning from the breast at 16 months was slightly less of a shock to the system than when BallFiend did the same thing at 13.5 months of age. At least I had some experience of the sort of emotions I was going to feel. And I had done some preparation for that day that I knew would eventually come... I had made a mental list of things I was going to do once Thumper weaned... all things I couldn't do whilst still breastfeeding. And top of my list was a night away with DeepSpice, sans kids!

The last time we had been 'child free' for a night (actually two) was back when BallFiend had a practice run staying with Gran and GrandPaul in preparation for Thumper's arrival, about 20 months ago. Back then, I was too uncomfortably pregnant to make the most it. 

So, as the date for the Tim Minchin concert approached it occurred to me that this could be the right time to start my post-breastfeeding life with an entire 'night off'. DeepSpice raised the idea with Gran and GrandPaul. Gran was happy to have both kids overnight, but GrandPaul was rather hesitant. But after a few days of some gentle persuasion and it was all agreed: we would drop the kids over after lunch on Saturday, then pick them up on Sunday afternoon. 

I was getting more and more excited as the date drew closer, as evidenced by my frequent Facebook status updates informing anyone who cared to read them. Whilst web-searching for suitable accommodation in St Kilda, it occurred to me that FunkyOrganMan and ThingMaker may well be going to, so I tracked them down on Facebook, with very pleasing results: yes, they were both on Facebook and yes, they were both going to the Tim Minchin concert and yes, they were both going on the same night as us and yes, they were also planning to stay overnight in St Kilda! Jackpot! We arranged to meet for dinner before the show. 

Then calamity struck... Gran and GrandPaul had made last minute plans to attend a birthday lunch on Sunday and wanted us back bright and early (11 am) to collect the kids. My plans for a lazy Sunday morning sleep-in, followed by lunch in St Kilda were thrown into disarray. After coming to the conclusion that stomping around the house expressing my disappointment didn't seem to be doing much good, I did some quick thinking and phoned CutLuce... "would she and DesignerMonkey be able to mind the kids from 11 am on Sunday?" I asked wishfully, not expecting that my sister, with her busy social life, would be available. But as luck would have it, she said yes! I was overjoyed. I rushed to the internet and completed my booking for a B&B. 

Our night away went off almost perfectly... we were a lot late dropping the kids off to Gran and GrandPaul, so instead of checking into our B&B at 2 pm as planned, we didn't get there till nearly 4 pm. Having slept badly the previous night, I decided to have a quick afternoon nap, then we dressed for dinner and headed out to Cicciolina's for dinner with FunkyOrganMan and ThingMaker. Much wine was consumed in two short hours (with ThingMaker picking up my slack) and then we ambled down to The Palais for what turned out to be a fantastic concert... exceeding my expectations. At interval I raced out to the mechandise stand and handed over my credit card: one CD for me, one for VolubleK, a DVD of Tim's previous tour (which we didn't get to go to due to Thumper's then extreme infancy) and a "Rock 'n' Roll Nerd" t-shirt for DeepSpice.

After the concert, we chatted for quite a while with FunkyOrganMan and ThingMaker, then wandered back to our B&B. In the morning, we were served a yummy cooked breakfast and then spent some time wandering around Acland Street. Mother guilt had me seeking out little gifts for our little ones - a hypercolour foam ball for BallFiend (which he subsequently lost at the swimming pool the following Monday) and a box of tiny Dr Seuss books for Thumper (which she has progressively been trashing), and a thank you gift for CutLuce and DeepSpice (iPhone app fridge magnets). We had lunch at Gypsies Bar & Cafe, then strolled along to the St Kilda market, where DeepSpice bought himself a new belt and we found a nice handmade soap to give to Gran as a thank you gift. Unfortunately, we didn't find a suitable thank you gift for GrandPaul, but at least he can be happy in the knowledge that we didn't buy him an ugly, touristy trinket that he has to pretend to appreciate.

Then it was time to come back to reality and start our (long and tedious, thanks to Punt Road) journey home. 

On arriving home, we found BallFiend curled up on the couch with dummy and blankie, watching TV and Thumper, who had just woken up from her nap, nestled into DesignerMonkey's arms. Neither child was the least bit interested or excited to see us. It appears that we should have stayed away longer. Much, much longer... 

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Toddling delight

She's 18 months, already!  A walking, 'talking' tot. Where did the last year and a half go?  

Thumper, wearing a lovely summer dress,
brought back from Bali by CutLuce and DesignerMonkey.

Thumper frequently mimics us and works hard to fit in to the family. She has developed a good appreciation of balls under her big brother's tuition. She likes to join BallFiend in playing with playdough, drawing with crayon and painting. Her skills with a fork and spoon are exemplary - she uses them with greater dexterity than some four-and-a-half year olds I know. She even mimics me when I am rubbing moisturiser on my hands. Very strange! She loves to carry her potty around the house and practices sitting on it, but mostly it is used to hold toys or her cup of water. 

She runs about with a cute waddle, arms held out from her body for balance, shrieking with delight if BallFiend is chasing her. She always busy, carrying small books and toys from one end of the house to the other. It takes less than 15 minutes for a tidy house to be transformed by Whirlwind Thumper, with debris scattered everywhere. And it is worst on days when BallFiend is at kindergarten... though I haven't worked out why yet.

She sleeps well, going to bed about 7.30 pm and lying in bed awake until BallFiend is brought to bed 15 minutes later so she doesn't miss out on hearing DeepSpice's 'talking story'. Dressed in her warm pyjamas on cold evenings, she looks just like Teletubbie! Mostly, she goes straight to sleep and doesn't wake until 8.00 am the following morning (unless BallFiend wakes her earlier when he is in need of an audience). Although sometimes our nights are interrupted by her screaming in her sleep... no idea what sort of thing a toddler would be having nightmares about. 

Her language is amazing, with an ever-growing vocabulary of spoken and signed words. Most recently she started saying "cheese", after we played the Cheese song from Tim Minchin's Heritage Orchestra album (which I got at his recent Melbourne concert). She loves to read books - she is always coming up to DeepSpice or me with a book in hand saying "read, read". I am continually impressed with her ability to follow directions of two steps (eg. pick up that book and take it to your bedroom). Singing is another favourite activity - currently her favourite song is Baa Baa Black Sheep, which she wanders about singing: 'baa baa baa baa...' 

Sadly however, she cannot possibly by my own child as she loves shoes and hats, playing with dolls (her 'baay-bees') and doing feminine things like playing with toy kitchens, dolls and pretending to mop the floor! I'm not too worried though, as she spends more time playing with toy cars and trucks than BallFiend ever has.

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Neighbours

We have been living in our house for nine years now. It's on a main road and lacks that sense of community spirit that one tends to find in the quieter back streets. Across the road from us are several blocks of flats and units, many of them rental properties so there is a high turn-over of residents. Immediately to our East is a single story, ugly, brown brick, nouveau-wog house. The shutters are almost always down. And on the Western side is a large, two-story, brown brick, ugly nouveau-wog establishment; so large that our guests to mistake it for a block of flats.

to our East

to our West

When I say large, I mean enormous - the monstrosity fills most of the block. It's windows overlook our driveway and have a view straight into our bedrooms. At the front, the house has 'classy' white balustrading around the balcony and a driveway paved with large orange tiles. Not pretty but fortunately we usually can't see too many tiles as they are covered by the fleet of cars that belong to the household. A household of 3 people! There's the dad 'G', his wife 'C' and their adult son 'M' who really ought to have flown the family nest while he was still in his early thirties. They are frequently visited by their adult daughter who has married and spawned and now lives around the corner.

I first met G soon after we had moved in. A friendly-enough chat over the fence. This happened a few more times, and sometimes just a quick wave hello as we passed in the street. But things started to go a little bit wrong. One day I came outside to find G up a ladder painting the balcony of his house, on a ladder which had it's base in our driveway. He was positioned right over our car. Luckily no paint had dripped on it yet. I told him that he had no right to come onto our property, especially without asking first and told him to leave. Another time, I came home to find him in our driveway, digging around in the garden bed along the fence line - apparently the dirt from our garden bed was coming under a gap in the fence and he was trying to plug the gap or something. Again I told him not to take the liberty of coming onto our property. After this incident, we put a padlock on our gate.

Then we started renovating our place. First step was the garage which we extended to create room for DeepSpice's planned woodworking workshop. The original garage had an annoying 30cm gap between the fence line and the side of the existing garage. On his side of the fence, G had years of hoarded crap piled up - old timbers and sheets of corrogated iron, etc., high enough to be covering the gutters of our garage, which were now rusted out as a result. He seemed annoyed at having to move it when we started building.

We were told by Council that our new garage wall extension would either have to be right on the fence line or we would have to leave a 1 metre gap between the wall and the fence. We chose to build on the fence line (our yard is not big enough to allow the luxury of a one metre gap). This seemed to annoy G and his son, and from this point, he started making our lives difficult. Our building works were held up while we attempted to discuss the issue with G. Then G would not allow the builder to remove the fence so he could access our garage from the other side of the fence during the building works. So our builder had to do everything over the garage roof. Once the building was finished, there was just a small gap between the fence and the garage wall of about 10 cm. A week later we discovered that G had pulled down the fence and claimed this 10cm gap for himself. He also took the liberty of painting our Colourbond downpipe and guttering in a horrible shade of brown to match his house.

Several more annoyances have occurred since. For example:

• Visitors to G's house frequently park in the driveway blocking the footpath, which apart from being illegal, is simply annoying. When I am out with Thumper in the pram, I am forced to walk on the busy main road, around the offending car. Despite asking the drivers of these vehicles not to block the footpath, they keep doing, because they are too lazy to park in front of a neighbouring house and walk 20 metres along the footpath. 
• G places his rubbish bins in the middle of our shared driveway crossover, so that once the truck empties them, they end up in the middle of our driveway, blocking the way if we need to drive our car out. 
• Cigarette butts end up in our driveway, a long way back from the road. So I have my suspicions that they throw them over our fence. 

The way things are now... we don't like 'em but mostly we just ignore them and can speak civilly if the need arises. So DeepSpice and I were very puzzled a few days ago when a letter arrived from the Department of Justice (DoJ) inviting us to a mediation session at the Dispute Settlement Centre regarding 'an issue of concern' with a 'Mr D'. There was no mention of what the issue of concern was and we had no idea who this 'Mr D.' was. I looked the name up in the telephone directory and discovered that it was in fact G, our neighbour. And finally after two days of telephoning the DoJ, DeepSpice finally got hold of a real, live human being who could tell us what was going on. Apparently G has a problem with the pittosporum trees we have planted in the garden bed along the fenceline! He wants us to cut them back, or more likely he probably wants us to cut them down and concrete over the entire area. We could not believe he would go to the DoJ rather than just talk to us! DeepSpice does recall G having asked on two previous occasions for us to cut back the trees branches that extended over his fence line. We told G that if he wants to prune the trees he can (legally he has the right to do so as long as he does not damage or kill the trees). 

So that is the f-wit who lives to our West. 

Turns out, we have one on our East as well. An Italian family of nona, mother, father and their two kids have lived there for about 4 years now. I have often spoken to C, the nona, as she has seen me outside with my babies (when Thumper and BallFiend were still babies), and everyone knows that old Italian women love babies! However, I have barely laid eyes on the rest of the family. The household is a bit strange too, they seem to own a taxi business and there are always taxis arriving, getting cleaned and then leaving again. 

The man also has an expensive hobby of restoring vintage cars, and he likes to take them for a drive now and then. That is fine, except that he warms up the engine in his driveway, in a spot that is about 2 metres from our lounge room window. Our house is an old weatherboard, not particularly well-sealed. So all the smelly exhaust fumes find their way in through the gaps, and the noise of the engine resonates throughout the house. Very unpleasant and not helpful when trying to settle a screaming baby. So a few years ago, when BallFiend was a baby, DeepSpice went around and politely asked if he could please warm up the engine out in the street. The man begrudgingly complied and has mostly done so ever since. 

Over the past year or so I haven't seen the kids or their mother around, so I suspect they might have separated and the mother and kids have moved out. After recent issues we have had with father, I would not be surprised. A few weeks ago, at about 10 pm, a noisy power tool started up, a sander or something, in the garage at the back of their property. By 11.30 pm when we were definitely ready for bed, it was still going. DeepSpice attempted to go around and ask the neighbour to be quiet, but couldn't gain access - ringing the doorbell was unlikely to be heard by the man all the way down in his shed and the driveway gate was locked. So we put up with it and DeepSpice went around to speak to him the next day.

This guy had a serious chip on his shoulder! He carried on about 'you and your perfect life' and that if he was doing something illegal (which he in fact was) we should call the cops. We would never consider bothering the cops with something like this, especially if we had not first tried to speak with the neighbour. After all, for all we knew, he may not have been aware that he was bothering us. Anyway, DeepSpice convinced him to stop the noise by 10.30 pm (which is 2.5 hours later than EPA noise rules allow for).

A week or so later, we received a scrawled note in our letterbox:

  

So now it turns out we also have a f-wit who lives to our East. 

I have been talking to DeepSpice about moving house on and off for the past year or two. This really makes me want to move sooner rather than later!

PS. Sorry for the very long post (rant), but I feel marginally better now.

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