Swing Low

Ok just for once I approve Dads recycling obsession. These are old roof batons also left over by the builders. Even the rope was found in the river below and is genuine mountaineering standard. As all the tall trees are in the valley my swing was simply attached to the roof overhang on the patio. I really can’t get enough of being pushed and let him know by loud wails if I’m removed  before I’ve had enough. One really has a tough time training this parent of mine. You would think by now he would know a girls needs. 

Sandman

Can you believe this. Durban is famous for their beaches that stretch on for kilometres. All I get is this little patch of sand in a box Dad knocked together from old roof trusses left over from the alterations. I am practising my sand sculptures like those guys at the real beachfront. Who knows maybe l’ll get a few tips one day. This sand is also pretty damp after all the rains so to add insult to injury I have to sit on a water proof bag. As soon as those holiday barriers come down on Durban's beachfront i will demand the real thing.

Electrical Short Circuits

 

So the special doctor that looks inside my head says there are some odd electrical firings going on even while I sleep. He wants me to take this syrup stuff three times a day. Not only that, my now squeamish Dad took me for a blood test but asked the nice nurse ladies to do it in the back rooms. I made sure he could still hear my screams as they poked me with a sharp needle. Alls well that ends well and blood is normal. Bad news is after three weeks they do it again to see if the epilepsy medication agrees with me.In the meantime those that know these things said I must get a pegboard to help with my fine motor skills. Well Durban simply does not have any so Dad made me one with scraps from his garage. Will have to do for now I guess. He is such a cheapskate and says I only get pretty colours when he finds some safe paint that I can chew on.

Just in Case

Today Dad did the oddest of things. First he keeps me awake all morning then gives me something to sleep then still tries to keep me awake. Eventually he bundles me into the car and off we go for an EEG scan. I am now in my second wind and refuse to sleep. At the hospital I eventually give in for twenty minutes which is enough time to connect me up to look like a Christmas tree. The nice lady records my brain patterns which the special doctor with the nice toys will analyze next week. Apparently they are searching for any sign of seizure activity which is all related to some kind of trauma or “insult” that I had around my birth. I am already favoring my right hand which should only happen at the age of three. I have also been trying to stand up but only manage to arch my back on all fours like a yoga pose. Otherwise the special doctor was pleased with all my other tests and said only time will tell. He told Dad to organize me some playmates to hang out with. I could have told him that long ago. Oh yes as soon as I got home I slept for the next ten hours. That will teach them to keep me awake when I want to sleep!

Riding High (13 months)

I must say the view from up here is interesting. Right now I think I have a lot more hair than Dad does. Then again I have never had a haircut in thirteen months.  Weighing in at 8.2 kgs I am now crawling around the house in my own inimitable fashion. Dad is sure relieved and I suppose now he expects me to start talking and walking. In the meantime we await the big appointment with the clever doctor on 24 October when once and for all we will dissect all those scans and reports. I have news for him though as I know i will pass with flying honors.

The big One

So I’m now one year old already. Friends family and neighbours gathered with me to celebrate this grand milestone. So many people and so many presents. Thank you all. Dad said he will ration them out to me so I don’t get overwhelmed. What a cheek!! it’s my party after all. My big sister (she with the red hair) also turned 25 today and when my party ended hers started. I was packed off to bed while they danced the night away. Life just isn’t fair but you wait my turn will come.

The Big One

Can you believe I am nearly one year old already. Yes good people I am personally inviting you all to my party. There will be food and drink and balloons and all that party stuff. The cake has been ordered already. So make sure you update your busy diary and make a note for Saturday 20 August between 2 and five in the afternoon. If you need directions my Dad will sort you. Just call him on 082 570 5364. See you there.

Had it with Scans

  I hit the eleven month mark and Dad drags me off for another scan. This time he starves me from one in the morning and promises to feed me after the scan at about eight. We get to this big hospital at the ungodly hour of 6.30am and proceed to wait and wait and wait. They then tell him they can only do me at 9.30 as the nice man that puts you to sleep is running late. By now my tummy is rumbling something serious and I need food and drink badly. I start to yell and cry but they ignore me at first. Eventually Dad throws his toys out the proverbial cot and attacks the management. They try to calm him down and he threatens to walk out. Eventually they call my number and down we go to this humongous machine. I am very unhappy and crying and thrashing about. This sleep mechanic then holds me down and proceeds to gas me unconscious. Dad take one look at this and bursts into tears. I was so embarrassed. One of the nurses even passed him a box of tissues. Can’t imagine what they must have thought. I drift off and they drug me further. Half an hour its all over and am I ready for food. I knock  down two bottles and as soon as we are home I polish off four servings of food. This fasting stuff is not for me. They give Dad a CD showing  the inside of my head which looks like a scary movie. Once again the report is so so with no major problems. Once again I told them not to waste so much money. Dad still insists on a breakdown from one more baby brain expert before he calls it a day and lets me be me, small head and all.

PS Dad blames the fuzzy picture on the magnetic waves. I say he needs to sharpen up.

On your Bike

Today  Dad reckons I am ready to hit the road so to speak. Thanks to Sharlene Versveld who gave him this special backpack thingie I now have to tag along with him on the beachfront. I mean there are over seven kilometers of cycling trails there with lots of nice eating places en route. It was such a long cycle that I dropped off to sleep in my little cocoon . Trouble is I’m getting heavier so Dad better buy one of those attachment seats to take the load of his aching back . In the meantime I cling on for dear life as he dodges all manner of skateboards and learner bike riders.

Look no support

I agree that last bath shot was not a true reflection of my sitting abilities. This one is the real thing. Can you believe Dad is taking me to Entabeni hospital on the 15th July for an MRI scan. I have to be there at 6.30 in the morning. They will put me back to sleep and have a good look into my head. Bet they wont find anything amiss but one needs to be sure.

I’m sitting pretty

Yes folks that’s right. I am officially sitting around these days. In fact I can sit for ages playing with my toys before I get bored and roll over backwards. I can also stand if Dad holds my hands. My weight is slowly but surely increasing now that I am eating more fats. (7.2kgs)  I am also learning to put food in my mouth and hold my own bottle.I am still working on this crawl thing and can assume the position but am happy just bouncing like a frog for now. Give me a little more time and I will take this place apart. Dad still wants to take me to another pedio neuro something to look into my head. Not sure why but I guess I have to comply as after all he buys all my food and stuff. Will update you all again soon.

A tough One (9 months)

Normally when people accuse one of having a big head it is a derogatory remark. Now the thing is this that the special Doctor they call a paediatrician tells me I have a small head. Dad rushes me off to this nice man after the clinic sister said my skull has already closed over meaning that little hole that us babies are born with to allow space for brain growth has done its thing already instead of waiting another six months or so. The Sister said they might have to cut a piece of my skull out to make way for my expanding brain. Well the good Dr would have none of this and simply said my brain had stopped growing and thus the skull bones had fused over already. Did Dad go into a panic or what? He then rushes me off to have a scan where they strap me down in this weird machine that sounds like a dishwasher with disco lights. I lie very still and as usual all the staff are amazed at how good I am and no sedative required. The scan results are pretty bland and nothing to report. I could have told them so but no they insisted on this outrageous expense. Dad then calls in his connections to give me a full assessment on my motor skills  speech etc. I once again pass nearly everything with flying colours bar the crawl and chat thing. Now they expect me to do more tummy time and other exercises to build more muscle. I am also being fattened up with cheese and meat for the first time. What next? In the meantime I continue to charm everything in site and do my own thing with laughing and kicking my legs like an Irish dancer. Ok so my head is two measly cms below what it should be. Can I help it if I am so cute and look like a little doll in perfect proportions. All the other babies I check out seem to have these monster heads and small bodies. I’m special and will prove the Dr’s wrong . Watch this space. Oh yes Dad has eventually calmed down especially when I give him my special smile.

Eight and a bit

My first Easter and they give me this chocolate egg wrapped up in shiny paper. I know I have five teeth already but this could still be a tough one to crack. No one has cut my hair ever, so now I have long bits that curl up from the original hair and the rest is new hair. Dad wants to cut them off but is faced with a barrage of protest from my admirers. What is a gal to do?

Read and Write

I am only eight months old and Dad expects me to start reading books. It’s all very well looking at pictures but I have no idea what those strange symbols mean. Surely us babies and kids can mess about until they send us off to that place they call school. So for now Dad can just read for me when I feel the need.

A dogs Life

 At seven months I get introduced to Patches who belongs to Dads friend Rodney. Now I don’t mind the occasional pet like a budgie or goldfish or even the family cat. I do however draw a line at over friendly dogs trying to kiss me. Still Dad says it’s all part of growing up and building my immune system. All very well for him but this hound is a little bigger than me so just a tad intimidating. Otherwise all well and glad Dad is home after his trip to Libya.

Six Months

So I have hit the six month milestone. The scale proves I am now dead on the 6kg mark Apparently this is when I am supposed to start sitting by myself. Actually I still need a little support but am getting there. The solid food is going down a treat and my favourite is apple and paw paw. I found another nifty place to park off on Dad’s big size ten feet. I love smiling and laughing at anyone who does the same to me so it becomes contagious at times. When Dad whips out the video to record this I give him the serious stare as he still has no formal contract with me regarding filming rights.

At Last …”Real” food 02 Feb 2011

Dad took me to visit Sister Elisabeth today as I am almost six months old and have two teeth on their way. She was very happy with my progress and my weight of 6kgs. She declared that I am ready for the real thing. So tonight I had my first taste of baby cereal. Not too sure how to deal with this but I guess I could get used to it. I was shocked when Sister Elisabeth said i could chew on old chicken drum sticks. Does this mean Dad has first chew then I get the bare bone. What kind of parenting is this? I want a second opinion please!

Moms 40th

Mom always said she was going to have a massive bash for her 40th birthday. A whole Abba theme with lots of dancing and singing and all her friends. Life doesn't always work out that way and we just have to adapt and be thankful for what we have which is bountiful compared to many people on this planet. We lit a candle, had some cake and chatted about moms dreams and ambitions. 

The Great Outdoors

I think Dad is taking this green stuff too far now. He expects me to lie around outside and stare up at the clouds and trees. What if some passing bird lets loose on me?  Actually I quite enjoy it and can sustain about twenty minutes of this fresh air thing. Dad must just watch for those blood sucking mozzies which leave little bumps on me. Soon I will have the strength and ability to roll over.

Visiting Day

Today I went on a road trip. What started out as three men and a baby became two men and a baby. Dads friend Rodney had to excuse himself as he was feeling poorly. Budgie sat in the back with me while Dad did the driving. First stop was Express Media, Moms old workplace. When I arrived the work in workplace was removed as the entire office gathered round to fuss over me. With everyone wanting to hold and cuddle me it was just too much and I let out a few wails and retreated to Dads familiar arms. Not too sure of this effect I have on people but I’m sure it will dissipate  when the cuteness factor wears off. After that it was back into the secure car seat and off to Salt Rock to visit good friends. What a busy day! Thanks once again to Express Media for the supply of nappies they presented me.

Trees are Us

Dad says I have to plant at least one tree per year. He started me off by planting  this Wild Pear (Dombeya rofundifolia). It will grow to about five meters and have lots of pretty white flowers in the spring. The bark can even be used for heart and stomach complaints. Dad believes trees are the most important thing in the world and without them life will not survive. I can see I still have so much to learn. I already know that I can spend hours lying on the grass outside just staring up at the trees moving with the wind. I am so lucky I don’t live in a concrete jungle.