When I tell people how old the Bear is, they shake their heads in sympathy, squeeze my hand and say, ‘terrible twos, it’ll pass’. That is before they proceed to tell me about the ‘threenagers’.
I’m doing the Bear a disservice. She has grown up to be an absolute joy (not that she wasn’t before). They’ve taught her well in nursery. There is a fixed routine and she thrives in it, five days a week, 8am to 5pm. The Bear moved into the next class up just before Christmas and has started wearing a school uniform. It was all we could do to stop her from putting it on during the Christmas holidays. She loves wearing her beloved uniform and she runs into school everyday looking forward to fun, music, games and independent play.
I often joke that her dad is a rockstar, and it is apparent that the Bear has inherited his musical talents. She plays the xylophone whilst singing Twinkle, twinkle, little star. Other favourite songs are still Wind the Bobbin up, Jingle Bells (accompanied by handbells) and One, Two, Three, Four, Five….Once I caught a fish alive.
Her favourite word at the moment is, wait for it (drumroll please)… ‘No’. Do you love Mama? No. Do you want milk? No. Do you want to eat? No. Do you want to say yes? No.
If you ask her to do something which doesn’t suit her (e.g. put on your cardigan/shoes/or let’s walk), she throws herself onto the floor in protest. Honestly, child.
The Bear adores Peppa Pig. Every evening when we come home from nursery, she asks for Peppa Pig on telly. I deliberated in my head whether we ought to be spending our time playing games (she plays all day in school), reading (she does that in school and before bed anyway), something more educational (I know lots of Tiger Mums but I’m not one of them), but we’re both shattered after a long day and what’s wrong with a bit of telly for a bit of a laugh (Daddy Pig is hilarious. I don’t know how Mummy Pig puts up with him). Thanks to Peppa, she can say ‘that’s disgusting’, dinosaur, jelly, ball, helicopter, chickens, rabbit, sheep…
Now don’t get me started on stickers. The Bear is mad about them. We have them stuck to the floor, our shoes, socks, hair… everywhere! Forget fancy presents. A book of stickers is all she needs!
We have a bookworm in the house. The Bear received lots of good books from friends over Christmas. I try to limit bedtime stories to two books, but she somehow talks me into reading double that. Her favourite book at the moment is Superworm.
The Bear now has an awareness of the important people who grace her life. Grandad, Breda, Rose, Vee, Grandpa, Ibu, Maima (her friend Jemima), her nursery teachers and friends, and recently, Meg our cleaner (or miracle worker, as I call her). She still breaks my heart when she says she doesn’t love me, but is quick to pacify me with a cuddle.
Thankfully, the Bear is still keen on food and is happy to eat what we eat. However her table manners leave a lot to be desired. She refuses the highchair and stands on her seat to eat her meals (but not in nursery obviously). Earlier, she screamed out loud and bashed her cutlery on the table whilst out for breakfast. One man shot us a menacing look and left the cafe. Oh dear. But her’s a photo of her sat at her table, with her bib on and looking ever so well-behaved…
We love you darling Bear, strops, snots, sweet smiles and all. We are blessed to have you in our lives and hope you’ll always be happy and healthy.
Love you to the moon and back xxx