The Little Miss Rockstar Blogs

Guest Blogger In Action

Hello everyone,

I was actually working on another post but because of the intense interest in my daily schedule (like, 2 people actually asked Mummee and one of them wasn’t even Daddee) here it is. Btw, brevity is the soul of wit, when an Older Baby decides to nix the hour(s)-long sleeps for 20 minute power catnaps throughout the day. And I don’t see why this can’t be done at night either.

Any time between 4 – 6.30am: Wakey wakey. If Mummee or Daddee are lucky, my petition to start the day will be before sunrise. Because if it’s still dark out, I can be convinced to go back to sleep and may sleep in all the way til 6.30am, I am not unreasonable. Though no black-out curtains or blinds could possibly fool me into thinking dawn isn’t here yet. If the sun is up, then so must I be. It is a chirpy, Glee! song just waiting to be written. If I had one, my cellphone would be ringing right….. now, with the rights to that song.

I don’t buy all this It’s Almost The Height Of Summer It’s Getting Lighter Much Earlier crap either. When I learn to speak, I shall ask Mummee who died and made her queen of when I wake and sleep.

If my parents are very lucky, I’ll oversleep sunrise a little, before rolling over, pulling myself up in the cot (very proud of this skill), and Ngeh-ing the occupant of the Ikea sofa bed next to my cot awake to get me the hell out of jail.

6.30am: All the normal ablutions performed by an Older Baby to make herself presentable for the new day involving, but not limited to, a fresh diaper and something to chew on while I wait for breakfast to be ready. Neither needs to be edible.

To Fling, Or Not To Fling – Guest Blogger In Pensive Feeding Chair Shot

6.45 – 7am: Breakfast. Normally an Ella’s Kitchen or other imported organic pureed selection with beef, pork or lamb in it, fortified with extra servings of veggies. My pediatrician is always on Mummee’s back to have congee and fresh purees of the kind some local working mummies told us they prepare once a week in ice cube trays for helpers to pop into congees as and when instead of the imported stuff, but a) I hate congees/ rice. Ditto breads btw, though I’ll eat a bit if Ko-ko feeds me some of his – only because I adore him, all the while I’m thinking Who Actually Likes This Crap b) no freezer space and Mummee will go insane (more than her usual amount) from keeping the helper from storing raw meat/fish near my pristine puree ice cubes c) I don’t care for an extra freezer just for breast milk and puree like what Mummee’s girlfriends like to do in case we one day need the space when I grow up and request a pony for my birthday.

I eat stuff better with extra veggies in it – there is a famous fossil named Goldie Hawn who is so ancient she should look like one of the Egyptian mummies in Ko-ko’s I Wonder Why books but in fact she still looks vaguely human and I think it’s because she has lots of greens. (As I mentioned in my accessories guest post, it is the responsibility of every Older Baby to not let herself go as she ages.)

I provide running commentary as I eat. Feel free to take notes here, I don’t mind being quoted or imitated (but I don’t appreciate constructive criticism).

Ready?

My go-to comment of choice about my meals is “PPPFFFFFTTTT.”

When I’m not drowning you out by gabbling over whatever it is you are trying to say, or sing, there is also “PPPFFFFFTTTT.”

Whenever I’m done eating, usually in about an hour (you try ingesting 5 huge tablespoons of rice cereal plus half a pack of beef/ pork/ lamb mix and extra veggies when your stomach is the size of a golf ball), I repair to the sofa where I pick up a few toys and wave them maniacally about for another hour. Unless I’m at the piano where I pick up a few toys and wave them maniacally about for another hour. I usually do this to a background noise of Baby Einstein, Baby TV, or various music CD gifts.

9am: Mummee would have finished expressing her breast milk/ walking Ko-ko and the dog to the bus stop and so us girls will be all ready for adventure! This means a walk to a nearby park (sadly I can’t be in the same park as the dog because the one that allows dogs also allows mosquitos), a toddle about the outdoor pool just downstairs, or a paddle in one of the two heated indoor pools a bit further away. I don’t quite understand why Ko-ko took 4 years to kind of like water, I think it’s just brilliant.

Guest Blogger Posing With Mummee (a.k.a. The Arm, in Future Action Shots)

Like so:

10.30-11.30am: This is where the fun really begins. Because this is when Mummee tries to put me down for a nap <snort>. My personal best has been making it all the way to 3pm with just one 20 minute catnap. Talk about real sense of achievement. I have then tried to repeat this feat with varying degrees of success, and am pleased to report most days I have the upper hand (well, d-uh. How can you possibly win, arguing someone whose trumps are “NGEEEEEHHHH” and “PPPFFFFFFTTTT”? Silly Mummee. Speaking of which, I should patent my Guaranteed Argument-Winning Phrases. I have a whole repertoire of gabbles too. They are especially effective in the wee hours of the morning if you want to upset someone.)

On days when I don’t sleep, Mummee has me potter about two different dog-hair-free play areas, constructed by pushing bed against bay window. I have successfully trained Mummee to value quality over quantity time when it comes to any kind of “learning” a.k.a. reading/playing with educational toys. (See note on Argument-Winning, above.) Ready for my secret, Older Babies?

<whispers> If your mummee just drones on and on with yawn-some books or blocks, either fling everything off the bed while gabbling disarmingly, or crawl away and potter about elsewhere. The disgusting truth is, if you smile and gabble charmingly, you have a good chance of getting away with whatever else you insist on doing. There are actual world leaders who still employ this trick today.

Mummee sometimes doesn’t do an activity for days and days, waiting for when I feel like it. I think this is the most desirable result because a) there’s a lot less time and energy wasted convincing me to do something and I usually reward Mummee with some success – limited, so as not to spoil her, you understand – and b) I do the activity when I feel like it (as how everything in the world should be until I grow up to be Ko-ko’s age.) Interspersed with this is also:

1-1.30pm: Lunchtime.

4.00pm: Average time Ko-ko gets home from school, having dallied at the playground after he gets off the bus. I’m usually at the door to gabble delightedly when he gets in – because it means Mummee won’t try to make me nap again until after he’s read his school reader to me. She tried it once, boy did I set her right, she’s remembered ever since not to bother trying again til I’ve had my Ko-ko Fix. Some days he goes to “Chai-nese” or other activities, I’ll usually nap contentedly after I’ve seen him out the door. Just so I know he’s really gone and no amount of screaming my lungs out brings anyone back.

One of the games Ko-ko and I play. Ko-ko calls it Sausage Roll. I call it Find Ko-ko.

5.00pm: Short, less-than-an-hour nap, unless I’ve held out not napping all day, or else have had 3 very effective 20 minute power naps (something else I’m proud of and should patent – highly recommended for When Mummee Thinks She Should Get To Do Anything Other Than Entertain Me The Whole Day)

6.00pm: Dinner time. More maniacal waving and flinging of toys and books. On days Ko-ko is out, I can be convinced to eat pretty fast with the promise of a fun bath time with Ko-ko when he’s back. (We don’t actually bathe together, but it is a bathtub filled with water, bath oil and bubbles). This is because I discovered that if I hadn’t finished eating by the time Ko-ko was done with his bath and already in pajamas, I wouldn’t get to join him.

Lesson learnt: You might have to give in a few battles to win the war. (You’re still taking notes, right?)

Guest Blogger In Action Eating Educational Toy

8.00pm: More reading/ playing with educational toys while Mummee keeps an eye on me as she eats her dinner all bunged in a bowl on the bed. She did this with Ko-ko too, and I can’t wait til I’m old enough to dig my hands in her bowl and explore the textures the way she used to let him do when she got home from work. I don’t see why I don’t get to do that now she doesn’t feel guilty about being away all day at work anymore.

9.00pm: Average time I’m moved into my bedroom. Notice I did not say sleep. This depends on how I feel the day has gone. Typically I require one of 2 nightly rituals, either a 20 minute cuddle along with nightly prayers, or else a second nightly prayer and put down ritual.

Throughout the night, I can be convinced to stop kicking about if/when I wake for the occasional night cuddle if someone gets really mad at me. Knowing how far to push my luck is an art form. Mummee left me to cry it out a couple times. I did. And then I threw up everything I ate and so she doesn’t do that anymore.

If you are an Older Baby therapist, please analyze this accordingly. No, scratch that – let’s send Mummee to therapy instead.

And that’s my day, Dear Readers.

Til the next time, this has been: