Who Are You? Who Who? Who Who?

Remember in December when I packed off my not so little boy and sent him to pre-school a whopping 9 hours a week?  And for those 3 hours on each of those 3 afternoons I would cry when I got home because I thought I was breaking him.  I thought that my already anxiety ridden ball of WhoNeedsToLeaveTheHouseToHaveFun was going to turn into the toddler version of that guy who still lives in his Mom’s basement when he’s 45 and just does a Butthead type giggle whenever any female speaks within 20 feet of him.  And honestly, the outside world needs his cuteness in it, so I couldn’t be turning him into a hermit.

Everyone tried to be supportive and offered up their own anecdotes about when their little Alfie or Olivia first started and how they would cry a bit and didn’t want to go.  The only thing is that their children weren’t having full on panic attacks at the sight of the school shirt.

So I crossed my fingers and started to bribe Noah.  Each day he went through the whole three hours without crying he’d get a treat.  Some days he’d score a little car and on others he would get a special snack.  And just when my momma expressed concern that he’s start expecting the reward for doing something ‘normal’, he started to change.  He’d still get a bit nervous before going, and sometimes there would be sniffles when we got there, but one day he just up and walked away when we got inside and went about his day.

Hello?!  Where’s your detachment disorder?! Where is your need for one more hug.  Just one more!!  And why don’t you want to take your school shirt off?? It was like a practical joke.  I’d be dreaming of the moment to arrive but couldn’t believe it could actually be here.


21 june school

Then different key workers would say random things when I would drop him off or pick him up: “Noah’s so lovely” “It is great to have Noah back from holidays. I really missed him. ” “Noah had the all of the kids laughing” “Noah is the sweetest boy” .  Of course, I wanted to be able to just believe everything because it’s a wonderful feeling when someone else says things that reflect what you think about your own child.  But I am me.  I smiled and nodded and gave a “a ha haha” when I thought appropriate and figured that everyone got the same lines, because I am cynical to the core.

Plus, I’d never seen Noah at school beyond the drop off and pick up.  Parents are welcome to volunteer, but not if you have another child with you.  I had to rely on their word for how each day went.  Not that I don’t ask Noah as soon as we get in the car, but some days I get told he had an alligator sandwich for snack, so his word isn’t really worth that much.

The first time I got to see him in a setting with other children and an authority figure he wasn’t related to, was at Mini-Strikers.  Oh the joy that came over him as soon as he walked into the village hall.  It was like a whole different child crossed the threshold when I opened the door.  Okay, his listening skills… need work.  But it wasn’t a disobedience thing as much as an overflowing with excitement.  He shares well (until someone snatches his ball/racquet/beanbag and then sulks a bit), interacts with the other children, adores Mr. Andy and wants to include Amy in every activity.  It was and continues to be an amazing thing to see.


22 june Mr. Andy

So I shouldn’t have been, but totally was, overcome with emotion when at a Teddy Bear’s Picnic that the pre-school was part of, I got to see Noah interact with the staff at the school.  My little Nervous Norman was so comfortable with them, so happy to share his excitement and achievements.  And the responses they gave to him completely warmed my cynical heart.  Their smiles were genuine, their affection honest and they were as happy for him as he was for himself.  The best part was that they didn’t even know I was watching since I was with Amy trying to keep her from jumping off of a balance beam.

My baby boy is growing up in so many ways.  I am so proud of him and so so happy for him.  We’ve got roughly 3948 more anxieties to work through, but this has been huge.  I have no idea what happens when he walks through the doors of his school, but whatever it is … works.   I am so sad now that he will be leaving at the end of the month.  Let’s hope I don’t break what they’ve fixed because Noah 2.0 ROCKS*!!!


22 June race


22 June balls

22 June run

*Noah 1.0 ROCKED too.  But this version is even better!


1096 days later



You are three.  THREE.  How is this even possible?  Everyone says that 0-1 is jammed full of changes and that it goes by so quickly, but they don’t tell you that 1-2 is just as full and well 2-3 is bursting at the seams.

This past year, all traces of my oversized newborn with the huge dark eyes have all but disappeared.   Sure, you still like a cuddle from your momma (or MOMee these days), but you are definitely a big boy now.

Noah 005e

Aside from the whole diaper thing.  That’s right, Internet, my son is three and isn’t potty trained.  Guess what, we don’t care.  He’s not interested and it’s not a race.  So thank you for any words of wisdom you were about to bless us with, but we’re all full up.

Anyway, where were we.  Oh yeah, the change from 2-3.   A lot of kids start talking in the 1-2 year.  Not you so much.  And when I say so much I really mean not really much at all .. like nearly none.  In fact, you held tightly to your chest the 4 or 5 words you needed to say and used signs and other methods of getting your point across to communicate the rest.   Holy frustrating, Batman.  There were tears .. lots of tears.  From you, from me, from the neighbours who had to listen to you and me.  But on the 31st of August, right after you turned 2.5, you said ‘dane’.  Yeah, I know, not a word.  But it was what you were calling a plane.  You pointed at the sky and showed me a dane.  And then another one and another one.

Although you were already quite the toddler, it was at that moment that you started shaking the remaining baby away.  The little 1-2 year old that had hung around since your sister came along was finally ready to leave.

1st March 2009

As excited as I was, it was a bit sad to lose the last of my baby boy.  You’d always been a pretty independent child .. aside from bedtime where you want one of us to Criss Cross Apple Sauce you or count to 100.. or foot rub.. back rub… etc.  But with words, came less dependence on me.  It was both liberating and sad.  Luckily, your little sister is made of Velcro and I couldn’t mourn the loss too long.

To think of it, before the words came, you started to assert your independence.  Like when we flew to Jamaica and you thought you were plenty old enough to go to the bar yourself  .. and not even 2.5.  Or help yourself to the ice cream that called your name all hours of the day.

This year you did a lot of traveling.  It kills me that you will not remember these trips when you get older, because each one had a huge impact on how you developed from 2 to 3.  Jamaica saw you lose some of your fear of letting me out of your sight.  It took a while, but when you warmed up to Zed and Kadie you acted like you didn’t need us.  It was great!!

noah is 2


When we got back, your relationship with Nanny went from strength to strength.  You started to abandon your ‘warm up’ period and in fact would barrel through the door and head straight for the toys in the living room.  It doesn’t hurt that she is willing to play whatever game you want .. even if that game is jumping up and down … and up and down… and up and down….

After a few months at home, we went to Canada where you got to see all of your cousins again and Christian for the first time.  We’d thought that you and Calleigh wouldn’t take any interest in each other, but you actually played together.  That trip marked the first time since you were 4 months old that Daddy and I went out to dinner without you.  We were terrified, but you were a star; a sad star, but a star anyway.  You started to talk a little more as you seem to do whenever Kadie and Zed are around and you became addicted to Dora.

2 to 3 seems to be the period where you started allowing girly things into your life.  Dora and Peppa are you favourite drawn women ever.  I am sure over the next year or so you’ll start distancing yourself from them saying that it’s for girls, but for now you love them.  And it’s cute.  Annoying when you demand to watch them when they aren’t on, but cute.

Once again you returned with more words and better communication.  Your friendship with Nanny got even closer and you started to ask to go to her house.  Though your best friend remained ‘Adie’.  You hated her touching your things, and pretty much still do, but you loved that she shared her things with you, laughed with you and also thinks your parents are a few clowns short of a circus.   It’s cool, we know we are.

At the end of the year came the trip that completed the transformation.  We packed up and went on the longest plane ride we’d ever gone on and land in ‘Yeagas’.   People say that Las Vegas is not a town for children.  That it is an adult’s playground with nothing for midgets to do.  Oh how we showed them wrong.  You LOVED it.  From the moment you landed, you knew this was a place built just for you: fountains that sprayed up into the sky, roller coasters on the side of the street, people dressed up like Woody and Hello Kitty, volcanoes, pirate ships, a monorail, buses and police cars.  You ITCHED to play a slot machine but gave in to just watching the lights and hearing the sounds.

And best of all, you got to share it with Adie and Zed and Kadie.  It was the first time since you were born that there was NO warm up period.  You saw them come into the hotel and ran straight for them.  And once again, your speech started to come on leaps and bounds.   With so many things to see, so much to eat and so many modes of transportation, you just HAD to speak.  There was just too much to say.

I think of all the trips you’ve been on, this is the one I wish you could remember the most.  And not just the ladies in sequined bikinis dancing on parade floats in the sky throwing beads for you and your sister.  I wish you could remember the awe, the excitement, the pure happiness that you felt when you were there.  Though if you could remember, I’d hope you would forget the few naughty times when you ate way past your feeding time and sometimes way past your bedtime.

Noah's Party 116

After Las Vegas you came home and started pre-school. Oh it was ugly. Tears. Begging. Pleading. Falling asleep to avoid being there. We thought we’d broken the happy little dude we’d brought home from Yeagas. But over Christmas and through the next two months, you started to warm up a bit. The tears decreased and although you still hated the idea of going, you allowed yourself to have fun. And all the while the speech kept coming. So much so that I’ve finally had to start watching what I say, because you proved everyone right when one of your first words was one that shouldn’t be in a nearly 3 year old’s lexicon. But you were right, he WAS a dickweed!

And so here we are.. three years later and you have continually grown and changed and made us laugh, cry and swell with pride. You have a smile that could defrost the coldest womb and eyes that can get anything they desire. You are smart, clever, funny, rude, naughty, happy, grumpy, loving and silly. You are everything a Mommy and Daddy could hope for in a little boy. I can’t ask any more of you, other than perhaps to sleep in a little later and go to sleep a little earlier. Oh, and squeezing my thigh fat .. not so cute. There is a big difference between baby thighs and mommy thighs.

Aside from that… you’re perfection in a mischievous but totally beautiful bundle of little boy. Thank you for making all of our lives a little brighter, a bit more exciting and a lot more crazy.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Baby Boy.

Noah's Birthday 127e

Noah's Birthday 128

Momma loves you.


Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Never let it be said that real men don’t cry. We do. Especially when strange women come into our house and start stripping us of our overgrown, out of control, poofy curly hair.

This is what happened to me yesterday. I had heard the rumblings. My Mommy was all excited because she hadn’t “touched” her hair since October. At least that is what she kept saying, but I see her touch her hair every day, so I think she was a bit confused. And she also kept mentioning “Family Haircut Night”. Awesome! At least I thought it would be because she seemed so excited. Only I had no idea what the heck a haircut was. I know my Daddy went to get one when we were at the mall once and my Mommy and I went around and ate Italian food at a Food Festival, only to meet back up with my Daddy and there had been no haircut.

So what was I to do when this cape was put around me!? My hands were lost. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to break free, but then I just froze in fear because she started touching my hair. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I didn’t like it. It didn’t hurt, but the fear of the unknown took over and I cried. That’s right, I cried. I could feel the air hitting my neck and couldn’t get over that it had taken me 17 months and 3 days to grow my mini afro and now, it was gone. What was I going to look like when I was done?! Was I going to recognise the Man in the Mirror? Were my curls still going to be there?!!?

My Mommy tried to ease my fears with hugs and fruit pouches and even my soother. It didn’t help. I even cried when it was done and when I saw my Mommy in the chair with that same cape on!

But, now that it is over, I’ve got to admit something: I’m still cute. In fact, I may be even cuter than I was before. Judge for yourself. The pictures below are before during and after.

Me and My Hair on Wednesday (the original date for The Cut)
29th - 1

29th - 2

Friday Night Before The Cut


During The Cut

No More Scissors!

Showering the hair off
Hair today.. gone tonight

After The Cut
Front and Wet

Side View

The Morning After The Night Before
a new man

from the back

Now I am really going to impress the chicks at the wedding on Sunday: a suit, a haircut and Crocs. Sweet!


Fork Goodness Sakes!

I have no photos of what was a monumental occasion in my life, but I know you’ll all believe me when I tell you…

I’ve mastered the Fork.

That’s right. Last night I sat down for dinner with my Mommy and Daddy and ate the whole thing with my fork. Only twice did I try and use my fingers to help, but the Mess Police (a.k.a my Mommy) was right on the case and told me “no fingers, just the fork”. And I did it. Every bit of pasta went from my bowl to my fork to my mouth. Oh, except the one that bounced off of my lip and landed on the chair.

My Mommy and my Daddy were so impressed with my skills that they kept praising me after every fork to the mouth. It got so exciting that I started to clap for myself every time that I did it and then made sure that my Daddy was clapping along too!

My Mommy was actually so impressed, that we did it again today for lunch. Once again, I cleared the bowl with no attempt at using my fingers. Though I did keep trying to hug my Mommy with my messy fork in my hand because I was so proud of myself.

And after all of that hard work, they rewarded me by giving me pizza for dinner.

Back to my caveman ways!


I’m the man now, dawg.

I know what you’re saying to yourself. “Ooh, Noah turned 1 and now he thinks that he is too good for the rest of us”. And in your mind, I would probably look all older and cool … like this:

Can you hear me now?

You’d be right .. and you’d be wrong. I am 1, but I’m not too good for you, ’cause I’m the same old me. I’ve just been recovering from a birthday weekend which was sandwiched by fevers and teething and those evil vaccinations.

I have a whole lot to tell you all about my birthday weekend, but in the week since I turned 1, it would appear my Parents are trying to grow me up even more than I have already!

My Mommy keeps trying to sneak me back into my crib. How rude is she? I think I am going to tell my cousin Adam that she needs to go on the top of his Rudie List. I mean, okay, my crib is cool and I love being in my room. But once you are used to a King sized bed (Super King in England), how do they expect me to want to be back in Baby Jail? Sheesh.

You're Joking Right?

As if that weren’t enough, my Mommy even had me making dinner the other night. Well, alright, I may have exaggerated slightly there. I wanted to help and I thought it was going well, but apparently my help became more of a hindrance when I started flinging things on the wall, counter and floor. What? If tabbouleh is good for our insides, why isn’t it good for our feet?!

Stir It Up...

Something I’ve taught myself over the past week, is how to throw a proper temper tantrum. My Mommy was in shock the other morning when I was playing with the nail clippers, decided to try and clip my cheek and then lost it on her when she took the nail clippers away. Like, hello?! I was playing with that. So what if I could get hurt? I could get hurt in the bathtub, but my Parents make me go in there! I could fall out of the swing or go so high that I get all wrapped up around that bar above my head, but my Mommy insists on having me sit in there when we go to the park.

Plus, if you know my Mommy, you’ll know that I didn’t invent the temper tantrum, I’m just working on perfecting it. Check out this shot and tell me that I’m not getting really close!

But I want it!

I’ve just got to work on not falling for her dirty distraction tactics when I decide to have a tantrum. My Mommy is quite clever sometimes. Just don’t let her know it because it might swell her head, and let’s be honest, it’s already kind of big as it is.

When I haven’t been mastering the naughtier side of Toddlerhood, I’ve been setting little goals for myself and achieving them. First, it was this clapping thing. I was so tired of everyone making fun of the way I clapped. So I’m not a sheep. I like to march to the beat of my own drummer and clap the way I think clapping should happen. But one little guy can only take so many snickers and giggles and “assistance” in clapping. So I decided that I’d give in this once to the pressures of society and clap like a “normal” person. And don’t tell anyone, but I really like clapping .. especially when I watch Countdown! Those clever people deserve claps!

Clap On

My other goal is a bit more ambitious. There is this guy out there in TVland that they call “Hef”. Somehow he made a lot of money and lives in a house that is way bigger than mine and has a yard that is so big, that he has his own zoo. And he has his own pool!!! Oh, and he has lots of girls around him all of the time. Well, I have been looking at him and wondering why he has all of this and I don’t. I thought maybe it was because I was too little, but then I chased a girl at Gymboree and she giggled just like the girls that hang out with “Hef”. So, I decided that the only reason I can’t be him is because he’s still around. But I’ve heard a rumour that he is REALLY old .. I’m talking older than my Daddy even.. and that he won’t be around forever. With that inside information, I’ve decided to work on my Hef.

Hef In Training

So far, so good. Though my Mommy says that I’ll get a lot further in reaching my goal if I don’t poo in the hallway anymore. Apparently the chicks don’t dig that.


Happy Valentine’s Day!

Love was in the air today .. or perhaps it was the smell of the tandoori chicken and keema naan I had for dinner. Either way, it was a good day. I had pancakes for breakfast, got to taste my first ever cupcake (or fairy cakes as they seem to call them in my homeland), and got to drive Daddy’s car.

Okay, okay, the car may not have had keys in it, but that didn’t mean I didn’t get to play with all of the buttons, mirrors, steering wheel and radio. After being strapped in my seat for so long whilst we waited for my Daddy to get the food, my Mommy released me and gave me a taste of freedom like I’ve never known. I was over the moon. Who knew the front seats were so much fun?! No wonder my Mommy stopped sitting in the back with me. That food could have taken forever for all I cared, because once my Daddy returned with it, I was relegated to the backseat and I let them know I was not happy. I let them, the rest of Milton Keynes and the neighbouring villages know that I wanted nothing to do with the second class citizen business. I wouldn’t even take my soother because I was too busy yelling and crying.

But then they let me out when I got home and I gave my Mommy a cuddle and kiss and she let me share her dinner and all was well once again. I had salmon, chicken and lamb tandoori with lemon rice and my Daddy’s keema naan and I washed it down with a lime and my Daddy shared another cupcake with me.

Oh, and I got TWO Valentine’s Day cards. One from right inside my house (from my Parents ..duh) and one all the way from Canada!

There were no chocolates or roses or big red teddy bears, but there was food and cards and driving and dancing and that is what life is all about.

I hope your Valentine’s Day was as good as my first one ever!

14.2.09: Dancing and Driving from Kirsty B on Vimeo.


Then and Now

Me on the 5th of January 2009:

Sand Man

Me on the 6th of February 2009:

Snow Man

This is just wrong in so many ways.


Moving On Up

Now that I’ve got this crawling thing down and am starting to get braver and braver with my standing, I thought I’d take the opportunity to explore the stairs.

My first attempt was on Sunday, where I successfully got from the bottom to the top in under one minute! Although, at the beginning I stopped to spend time posing for the camera. My Mommy quickly realised that to get me moving again she’d have to wait at the top for me … and it worked. Only she used the camera that she doesn’t know how to get the videos off of, so I had to wait a while before I could share the news with everyone.

Luckily, they gave me a second chance today. And when the opportunity presented itself, there was no holding me back. Aside from the few seconds when my Daddy thought it might help me to remove my pants. Good thinking! I was off like a shot!

The Start

Up another step


Once again, my Mommy decided to wait for me at the top. What she didn’t realise is that this time, I was on a mission. I wanted to beat my previous time, so there was not much time for staring at the camera.

Up up and away


And I was successful. Though my Parents were faced with one problem when I got to the top. I wanted to do it AGAIN! And I’ve not quite mastered the art of going down the stairs, so my Daddy had to keep blocking me from doing my normal dive/lunge/jumping off of the edge.

It was exhausting, yet exhilarating and as a reward … I got to have a bath! How amazing is that?!

My Mommy managed to get a few seconds of my ascent on a video she knows how to put on her computer, so you can watch me in action.

I cannot wait until I can take more than two steps at a time and I can try this WALKING! My Parents aren’t as excited as I am about that for some reason!

Stairmaster from Kirsty B on Vimeo.


I’m Still Standing

Well, I try anyway. I can only last about 6 seconds at a time, but I am trying. On some days I even try to walk, only to discover that I don’t quite have the hang of it. Usually I find this out when my coconut hits the floor. That is about the time when my Mommy and Daddy realise that I’ve decided to be adventurous again. If not because of the loud CRACK that is made by the contact, then by the wails of pain and shock that come from my tiny body.

But a few bumps and bruises cannot keep this good man down. Nope, I’m full of determination (my Mommy says I’m stubborn) and desire for freedom. Plus my knees are starting to hurt and my tummy is getting tired of me dragging it on the floor when I’m too lazy to crawl properly.

In fact, the other day, my Mommy decided to take yet another video of me. She thought that I was just making my way to the walker to have a little play with the buttons and potentially have a little walk. She thought wrong. She couldn’t believe her eyes when I decided to reveal my true intentions.

My Mommy would like to point out that although the bag looks close to the highchair .. it wasn’t nearly as small a gap as it looks.

I Get Around from Kirsty B on Vimeo.


Can’t Keep A Good Man Down

Since the last time I posted, I’ve turned a whopping seven months old. That may seem soooo young to most of you out there, but I’ve been waiting for this my whole life!! I have taken full advantage of this new mature age of mine and have been developing my mobility skills rapidly.

It’s been the greatest week of my life, even if my Mommy and Daddy tell you different. They’re just jealous because I am having so much fun while they keep complaining about having to catch me and hide things and put stuff away higher and higher as I keep finding my way to the “naughty” stuff. So what if I like to chew a little on the cords attached to the cool things that turn on and off in our house? If you had to feel these teeth trying to break through your gums, you’d be looking for some relief too!

I used to be able to feed this habit of mine by finding things on ground level, but soon realised that there was a whole new world waiting for me if I just stood up. Like the tv!!! Who would have known that the Coolest Thing I’ve Ever Seen could get any cooler just by standing up and getting thismuch closer to it?

Noah high 5s Tom

Check it out, I’m almost the same size as the little dude on the screen! I keep getting in trouble though because I forget that I’m not supposed to wipe my fingers all over the screen. It’s too tempting to just reach out and touch the other world that the TV People live in.

The tv is not the only thing on that table that I love. The telephone lives there too when it is not attached to my Mommy’s ear or hidden under the sofa when I’m done drooling on it and leaving phantom messages for my Nan and Granddad.

Hello, Operator?

After I mastered climbing the tv bench, I thought I’d put my new skills to use somewhere else. I could have gone for the sofa or my highchair, but I decided to put a little excitement into my Parents’ life by deciding to pull myself up in the bath!!

Up and Out

My poor Daddy, he was on “Don’t Let Noah Drown” watch and I threw him right off with this move. Luckily for him and possibly for my pretty face, the bottom of the tub was too slippery for me to walk right over to my Daddy and give him a giggle. Soon though, soon. But once I got up in water, I knew that there was something else to master.

And I’m not even talking about the one stair that I managed to climb when I was playing on the stairs with my Daddy!

That’s right, there was something that had presented a challenge to me for quite a while. I’ve studied it carefully when my Parents were not looking, and until I turned seven months old, I was not sure how I’d be successful. However, all it took was one try. Or at least that is the story I’ll tell since no one was there to witness the attempt, only to see the successful end result.


My Daddy had put me down for a nap when I decided that I wasn’t quite ready to sleep. I didn’t cry or call out for them, instead I played around a bit and then my Mommy heard the rattling of the cot and was quite confused. My Daddy ran up the stairs to make sure I hadn’t hurt myself and he found me standing at the railing bouncing up and down with a very proud smile on my face. He burst out laughing and then my Mommy ran up to see what the commotion was, and by that point I too thought it was funny and was laughing along. In fact, I think my Mommy was the only one not laughing. Though to be fair, from what I could tell, she didn’t look like she was breathing much either.

That is when my Parents decided that putting up the stair gates they purchased a couple of weeks ago might be a wise idea. And I couldn’t agree more!! At first I didn’t even notice the new addition, but once I did, I made my way over to see what all the fuss was about. I wasn’t sure I liked that my Daddy could be on one side and that I was stuck on the other, so I decided to ignore it.

At least, that is what I led my Parents to believe. Inside I was working out how I could use it for my amusement. Sure enough, as soon as I was let loose on the living room floor this morning and I watched my Daddy walk upstairs, I crawled myself over and began my climb.

Stairway to Fun!

Two words: Too Easy.

This climbing thing is becoming second nature. The falling also seems to be a strength of mine, though my Mommy says I am a “Drama Queen” because sometimes I forget that I haven’t actually fallen and I cry anyway.

Next up … Walking!!!

Watch Out World, Here I Come!