In 70 years time ...

Today (Sun 11th Sept) we celebrated your Gramps' 70th birthday, seeing the family at Pizza Express in Reigate.  It was a lovely, sunny day.

While we ate our fish and chips at dinner, Daddy explained to you that 70 years ago there were no colour tvs and that there was no Internet, and no mobile phones.  He asked you what you thought might be new in 70 years time.

"Radish pumps and polka dot ambulances," you said, without any doubt.

I love your imagination!

Zingers

You came up with a couple of zingers this evening.

"I wish people didn't have to work and they got their money from somewhere else because I miss you when you're at work."

"I love Mummy the best but I love you a lot too. Kidding! I love you both."

Then you wouldn't go to sleep so we lay in the back garden and made up names for the constellations.

I love you, Pen.

Hospital

I am writing this on Friday 21st Nov as Minnie is under general anaesthetic, having her hearing tested as part of an assessment to see whether she is a good candidate for a cochlear implant.  It is not particularly invasive, but she needs to be still for the test, and toddlers rarely stay still.

She has had a few GAs in her time, and I always cry when she goes under.

Coming back into hospital pulls up so many feelings. I feel helpless as a parent as I can't take her place as she goes through all her tests and procedures. I feel frustrated at the whims of fate and the random statistics that landed her with her condition. And I cry. Mostly because there is nothing else I can do to help.

Except try my hardest to be a good parent, and show Minnie that she can thrive and take strength from this adversity.

And know that she is one of the lucky ones.

Coming into the Evelina Children's Hospital, I see children dealing brilliantly with much more debilitating conditions than Minnie's. And when I see them, I am inspired by their strength and quietly grateful that our load is as light as it is.

The NHS is amazing, and Minnie always seems to be looked after by the smartest and most smiley people.

Sometimes I speak to Penny about being a doctor, but maybe Minnie might be so inspired by the amazing people she sees, maybe she might want to be. 

Or not ... and I am grateful that she will hopefully have all those choices open to her.

There are lots of appointments to see if she is a  good candidate for a cochlear implant (or 2!), we should find out what the team recommend early in the new year.

Computer Game Nerds

We are, indeed we are.

Although neither Daddy or I play as many as we used to (especially Daddy), we do remember that we developed our relationship under the watchful gaze of Super Mario (on the Nintendo Gamecube?).

Every now and again we plug the Wii in and indulge ourselves in the wonder that is the world's most famous Italian plumber.

Daddy even downloaded a very old game a little while ago, 'Super Metroid', which he enjoyed playing very much.

I wonder when you will be ready to play on the Wii with us ...

From Cargo to Companion

For so many years, I have taken you with me to shops and around on my daily adventures.  As a small child you have been attached to me for your wellbeing and your simple cares, whether nappies or toilet visits, food, drinks and of course to be loved and looked after.

With Min-Min on the journey too, I have found that I have avoided shops, high streets and complexity completely, taking you both out of temptations way.  Instead, we go to parks and places where you can have fun, explore and be yourselves, rather than feel restricted in an adult world of tasks and function.

But things have changed over the past couple of months.

I have realised, my bright sparkling Penny, that you have become the most wonderful companion.  You have always been interesting to talk to and full of genuinely thoughtful insights.  But now, I desperately want to take you out with me if I am going into West Norwood or Brixton, so we can chat and look around shops and learn about the world together.  Daddy is often happy to take Minnie, so we can have some time just the two of us.  Quality time.

Of course, it helps that nappies and tantrums are no longer a factor.  But you are starting to feel more of a like-minded companion to travel through life with me ... and I love it!  One day, your sister will also be big enough to join us on these trips, and we can all explore the world together :)

Forgetting the Basics

You speak so eloquently, that Daddy and I talk to you like you are a grown up.

Which is why the speech therapist had to remind us to sing nursery rhymes and talk in baby talk to Min Min, as it is helpful for her development of language.

I can't wait to talk to her, just like we can talk to you!

Three uncles

You had a phase of going to bed late. The night after Minnie's Welcome to the World ceremony you called for me at about 9:30pm and I sat on the bed to have a little chat.

"You're up late, what have you been thinking about? Have you been thinking about seeing Gramps and Marion, Granny and Grangrad today?"

"No, I've been thinking about Minnie's party."

"What about Minnie's party? That it was a fun day?"

"Yes. And Uncle Andrew, Uncle Matthew and Uncle Dan were there. Three uncles!"

"You know, they're Minnie's uncle's too."

"Yes, we share them."

Minnie's Welcome to the World

Just as we hosted a Welcome to the World ceremony for you, Minnie had one at the start of this month. Once again, a huge number of our friends and family came and had a great time.

We announced Alex as Minnie's fairy godfather honorary uncle.

Mummy did a little speech about your name and read Oh The Places You'll Go by Dr. Seuss, Alex read Sneezles by A. A. Milne, and Daddy said this:

May all years as difficult as this one end as well as this one.

Yes, this has been a difficult year for us. But, looking back, not a bad one. In fact, looking back, our overwhelming feeling is of gratitude. Immense thankfulness for all the gifts we have received.

Our biggest gift was from Minnie. We were expecting a baby, we were not expecting a fundamental lesson in living our lives.

The day to day routines of pouring out breakfast cereal and toddler negotiations were washed out in a new depth of perspective. We had a chance to step out of our normal routines and really appreciate what we have – and we came to the conclusion that of all the people to whom a sick baby could have arrived, we were glad she came to us. Normal life was suspended and we had a chance to ask ourselves what’s really important?

The second gift was one which you all came here two years ago to celebrate. Penny. Her energy and vitality were a tonic during those early days of Minnie’s life. It was impossible to be upset when she was around, being sparky and delightful. She was and still is an empath to the core, affectionate and kind. Her daily distractions and lively intelligence gave us faith.

The third gift was from all of you. In difficult times, friendships and family bonds are tested, and you passed the test with flying colours! Our heads are still spinning and our hearts brimming at the amount of love and support that has flowed our way. Thank you. We love you all so much.

A tiny example of this love and support, among many, was on a Monday four days after Minnie was born. We were visited in the hospital by three wise people bearing gifts.

Seeing Minnie so tiny and helpless, subject to the excellent care of the nurses and doctors, but also the capricious whims of the universe, it was hard to know what to do to help. For us and for those surrounding us.

So these three wise people took their feelings of sympathy, support, hope and solidarity and embodied them in their gifts, all of which reflected their personalities. Like talismans, the gifts seemed to hold mystical properties, all of which helped to reinforce the atmosphere of healing and positivity.

First there was Norris. Ever the creative person, she gave each of us a small animal bead. For Minnie there was a dainty butterfly, so she could fly above the confines of her little incubator cot.

Then came Alex. Inspired by the sacred creature of the goddess Minerva, he brought her a cuddly owl. Clever and strong, this owl watched over Minnie in her hospital cot as she made her recovery. The owl still perches by Minnie’s cot and has been named Alex.

And then Greg. A recent father himself, he still managed to find the time to come to see us in the hospital. And he gave us a beautiful porcelain Buddha, hand crafted by his own father.

These gifts symbolise what we wish for Minnie. They remind us to rise above the strictures of daily life and remember what is important. Beads. Owl. Buddha. Creativity. Wisdom. Love.

I’ve spoken a lot about gifts. Life is a gift. My wish for ourselves and for all of you is to maintain that sense of clarity. May all your lows be outdone by highs, and may we all continue to be thankful for what we have that is most important. Thank you, and happy new year.

About Breastfeeding

Mummy here.

I finished breastfeeding Minnie today (Wednesday 22nd January 2014).  I didn't realise it a the time, as I was lying in bed at 6am letting her feed whilst trying to sneak in an extra few minutes of rest, but it was her last feed.  And probably my last feed.

I have loved breastfeeding.  Truly the lazy mummy's way out, it comes with a unique set of joys and mild annoyances.  Sure, you end up stretching the necklines on all your prettiest tops, and can't wear anything high necked or unstretchy for months on end.  And of course you get occasional nibbles as baby finds their sense of mischief at the same time as their teeth.

But there are endless joys:
- That feeling of closeness to your child that can't be reached in any other way.
- That feeling of pride, being the source of the nutrition that helps them grow, being strong and healthy.
- Being the ultimate source of motherly comfort.

I am lucky.  Feeding came easily to me, to you Penny and also to Minnie.  No mean feat, given that the slight diffusion issues she had when she was born, where her MRI showed she may have some damage in the part of her brain that manages feeding and swallowing.  But Min Min took to the bottle well in the hospital, and to breast feeding too, and I was very grateful as it meant she could be discharged more quickly.

But with Minnie, I had to fight to feed.  6 weeks of expressing while she was in hospital at the beginning of her life was followed up by a 3 week hiatus over the summer while I couldn't feed due to my tonsillectomy, a combination of lack of nutrition, painkillers and antibiotics.

So I intended to feed Minnie till her first birthday, just as I did with you Penny.  But, with a little help from my friends, I realised I was doing it for the sake of it, not because either she or I needed it or enjoyed it.

We were down to two feeds a day, first thing in the morning and before bath time:

• The morning feed consisted of her being unsatisfied, given my milk levels were low, and me desperately trying to keep her latched on as I tried to catch a bit more sleep.
• The evening feed became a token effort, with her rejecting ever more as she started to eat an enormous pile of food for dinner, with no room left for milk.

Minnie's first birthday is in 3 week's time, so we are only finishing a little earlier than planned.

I am a proud breastfeeder, I would encourage any woman to try it.  In most cases, it really is the easy way, to the extent that you feel put out when they start weaning as you need to take food everywhere with you, when for 6 months it has been dispensed from your chest.  I also am a strong believer in a happy child needing a happy mother, so if breast feeding really doesn't work for you then bottle feeding is not failure or a disaster, just different.

My two cents ... 

Your tree

I painted a tree on your bedroom wall when you were recently away in Greece. And I love it. To me it represents the robust foundations of your family, and the beautiful variety of life captured in the colourful and golden leaves.

Oh, and there is a rabbit!

I know better than most that small children can be an obstacle to creating good art, but sometimes you can be both the catalyst and the inspiration.

I hope as you get older there will be more good art created for you, your sister and for me

Bye bye Stockwell Road

From Emma's Facebook page today:

"Dear lovely Brixton flat, thank you for being such a good home for almost 7 years. For hosting fun parties and for being safe and cosy when we brought home our two tiny daughters. For having a shop opposite that never closes, so Charlie Fish can go out at 4am on Christmas morning to buy milk in his pyjamas, and for being in the middle of one of the funnest and most vibrant places to live in London. We love you, big kisses xx"

Hospital

Your little sister Minnie goes to hospital a lot, for blood tests, blood transfusions and other assorted clinics.

Recently she went in for a bone marrow biopsy, to try to finally figure out the reason why she has been so sick.

Every time Mummy goes to hospital she is reminded that we are so lucky that Minnie lives at home with us, and is happy, and generally healthy and growing.  A lot of other families are not that lucky.

So hopefully we will have a full update in August as to exactly what she has, but we pretty much know it is a rare kind of anaemia... but we can still hope that she will continue to get better as time passes.

Terrible Twos

You're usually very affectionate with Minnie, but for the last couple of weeks you've occasionally decided to get a rise out of her/us by being aggressive, slapping her or once even biting her. All the books say that this is a normal toddler reaction to having a new sibling - a phase that should quickly pass - and that the best way to respond is to calmly explain that hurting Minnie makes us all sad.

What the books don't say is that it's really hard to remain calm. Seeing you be so suddenly and uncharacteristically mean, and hearing Minnie's pained and frightened cry, is extremely upsetting.

You've been big enough to use normal chairs for a while now, so the high chair has been left in the spare room. Whenever you do something naughty you spend a few minutes on the high chair until you're ready to come back and apologise. But it often seems like you're not taking the punishment seriously. I suppose it's a testament to how safe and loved you feel that you find it hard to believe we're ever really angry with you.

Thankfully your behaviour is delightful far more often than not. (And you even seem to have overcome your brief phase of having a five-minute screaming fit for no reason at pretty much the same time every day...)

Happy 2nd Birthday Penny!

"Happy 2nd Birthday to the unique and indefatigable Penny. Already articulate, funny and empathetic, I am very proud to be her Mum."

Penny and Breastfeeding

Towards the end of my pregnancy I stared having conversations with you about the new baby drinking special milk from Mummy's breasts, so you wouldn't get weirded out by it (as you stopped breastfeeding in April 2012).

However, given everything, this has not been the case.  I have been expressing all my milk so it can be frozen, and stored ready for when Minnie is ready for it.

So you have not been seeing me breastfeeding but expressing instead.  And it has intrigued you, though like everything you feel it is perfectly normal, as your whole life is about new experiences.

The funniest point was when you grasped my little manual breast pump, lifted your top up as if ready to use it, said "no boobies" and then pulled your top back down again.  Hilarious!

And I am now using a fantastic pump, thanks to Claire, which means I can be an efficient milk machine for Minnie at home, as well as using the pumps at the hospital.  Let's just hope she improves enough to need all this milk ...

The Penny Factor

I had an emotional realisation today.

With baby Minnie being so unexpectedly sick, the last few days would have been incredibly difficult were it not for the outpouring of love and support from so many of our friends and family. But one person above all has helped us be strong, and that person doesn't even realise it.

You.

Your energy and vitality are a tonic. It's impossible to be upset when you're around, being delightful. And you are an empath to the core.

Moreover, if baby Minnie had been our first baby we might have doubted our capacity to create a healthy child - we might have been plagued by fear. But you are robust and intelligent and full of life. You give us faith.

With you, we are an indomitable family unit, ready to face whatever may come.

My Yaya

You know who your Yaya is, but I had a Yaya too. Even your Yaya had a Yaya!

Here's a picture from 2001 of me and your mum with your Yaya's mum Erika, and your Yaya's Yaya Hella.

I loved my Yaya very much; she was a very kind, brave and inspirational person. She taught me many things, but there are three things that stand out:

1. Accept generosity gratefully. It can feel awkward when someone gives you a generous gift, but be careful - the standard overly polite British response of "you shouldn't have" risks devaluing the the gesture. Instead, accept gifts with a big smile and plenty of warmth.

2. Be wary of making your friends jealous. Good friends will support you through life's ups and downs, but when your life is on a high be careful not to boast too much - you might unintentionally touch a nerve and make your friend feel bad about their own life.

3. Respect everything (except authority). Respect is the single most important virtue in life - respect for every single person that you meet, speak to, read about or hear about. Most human problems in history have been caused by lack of respect for others. But always question authority - respect the person not the uniform. My Yaya survived the Nazi extermination camps, and sadly experienced occasional anti-Semitism even in her old age. She once told me a story about a washing machine salesman who heard her German-sounding accent and saw that she was buying a Braun product, and ignorantly assumed it would be safe to make a horrible comment about it being a shame that the Jews weren't finished off during World War II. Instead of marching off in a shaking rage (which is how I felt at hearing this story), or slapping him, she stayed for half an hour trying to understand why he had made the comment and educate him about what had happened in the war (about which he knew almost nothing). It takes a brave person indeed to respect even those who persecute you.

Family Resemblance - Daddy

Everybody (friends, family, strangers in the street) tells me how much you look like me.  And they are right, but when I look at you I see glimmers of your daddy too... and above is the evidence!

Family Resemblance - Smiths

A little while ago I thought I would investigate who you look like, so above is a collection of baby pics... parental Smiths at the top; their children on the row below; and your daddy, you and me at the bottom.

What do you think?

Not your uncle

We were helping Alex move into his new flat. It's actually hard sometimes not to call him uncle Alex, not because he's particularly avuncular, but as a way of emphasising that he's a close friend of ours and we'd love for you to have a relationship with him too.

Doesn't just apply to Alex, of course. The same temptation holds with all of our close friends. But you only have four uncles and two aunts. Plenty enough as it is.

Mind you, I'm sure your uncles on your Mum's side are working on finding you a couple more aunts.