Category: The Squishy Files

Sleepless nights

Sleepless nights

It seems we have reached the night-terrors phase.

At around 3 this morning Elizabeth screamed, as in damsel in a horror movie screamed. Attentive parents that we are we naturally leapt out of bed and ran to her – no jokes, we live in an area with many venomous snakes, and one regularly hears of people, and especially children, being bitten by a snake in their bed, so naturally we assumed the worst.

When we got to her she kept saying “fork, fork” inbetween sobs – fork is currently her word for anything sharp, which only increased our fears. While the wife held her I took all her bedding and mattress out of her cot, but nothing there, and we couldn’t see any bite or sting marks on her skin, so assumed it was just a bad dream.

So I lay waiting the next two hours for my alarm to go off with the Minion’s feet in my kidneys (not taking chances on invisible snakes we took her to our bed where she promptly decided lying in a position perpendicular to us was most comfortable).

Come morning the missus takes her to her room to get dressed, and she start speaking of the fork again, except now it sounds more like pig (if you’re horribly confused right now, the Afrikaans words for fork and pig differ by only one syllable – “vurk” vs “vark”). Apparently a pig was trying to smell her, and she wasn’t having any of that.

(Your guess is as good as mine where she got the idea of a pig sniffing her – the only pigs to which she has regular exposure is one with a last name Bank and another with a first name Peppa…)

Anyway, come bedtime all goes well – getting dressed, storytime, the regular routine. Until the wife tries to leave the room. Total hysterics. The pig mustn’t smell her. She wants to sleep in our bed. She wants us to stay with her.

Apparently this is a phase they go through, which means it will pass (hopefully soon). Pigs, though? Wherever did she get that one?


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The Minion says…

Came into the house (my home office is in an outbuilding) and The Minion came running saying “Daddy, Daddy, I’m watching the sun-story!”

That would be Tangled.

Other favourites include the ball-story (Inside-Out) and the balloon-story (Up). (The balloon-story causes no small amount of distress once the balloons start popping.)

And Moana, but for some reason that’s just Moana

A letter to my daughter on her second birthday

A letter to my daughter on her second birthday

My dearest Elizabeth,

How time has flown. Once again it feels like I last wrote a letter to you just the other day, but it’s already been an entire year! Two, now, since the first time I’ve held you.

Since the last letter you’ve learned to walk, and run, and crawl (in that order), you’ve learned to talk, you’ve learned to throw a ball and catch it, and to jump and to skip. It is amazing to see how fast you learn and pick things up – your mum and I have to watch what we say around you these days, as you’re starting to repeat everything you hear. You give the best hugs ever.

You are fearless, in a way that both awes and terrifies me – I constantly need to remind myself my job is to teach you to get back up when you fall, not to prevent you from falling. Seeing the way in which you seek out new experiences, the way you go off exploring on your own without us holding your hand…I wonder if I was ever that brave. Never lose that. The world is there for you to conquer.

One piece of advice – when you don’t succeed at something, take a deep breath, and try again. Frustration is natural, but that way lies the dark side. Don’t give in to the dark side. One day we’ll talk about when it is okay to quit and walk away for good, but for now, keep calm, keep trying, and figure it out. You are unbelievably smart. I’m sure there’s nothing you won’t be able to master as long as you set your mind to it and keep at it.

 You’ve made a phenomenal success of your second year, as I knew you would. The next one will be even better, and I’m glad I can be a part of it. Happy birthday.

Love,

Dad