Seven ages of Bug

I've not posted many pictures of Bug on here. I presumed everyone who looked at the blog would be a mental. That's parental paranoia for you.

Turns out most of you are lovely.

With this in mind, this week's post is to be a collection of Bug photos.

The special ones.

The ones that show her beauty in such a way that I can never imagine it being bettered.

Until the next photo.

And the next...

Her first few days.

I read stories about the joys of childbirth, about how it's the greatest moment in a parent's life. For me it was awful. We'd planned for a natural water birth, ended up being induced as Bug's heartbeat was erratic. A night of flashing lights, emergency buzzes and doctors running in shouting acronyms and medical speak. Bear was full of drugs and needed me to be strong. I was scared of losing them both and became paralysed. After 12 hours Bug was born by emergency C-Section...

...and everything changed.

Two months in.

We had no idea what we were doing. A blur of three hour cycles: wake, nappy change, feed, sleep. Rinse repeat. Home from work we'd dance to Arcade Fire's Wake Up and Bug would fall asleep on my chest. Bear and I would sneak an episode of Damages before heading towards bed and a three hour cycle that didn't know its a.m from its p.m.

A New Hope.

1977. Star Wars. The first film I ever saw at the cinema. I have a framed poster in the living room. I am wearing a Star Wars t-shirt as I type this. And here's Bug watching episode IV.

In years to come, she'll say "were there any films made after Return of the Jedi, Dad?"

"No," I'll reply. "No there were not."

In other news: we taught the cat to have his bum changed. Get in.

A bundle of smiles.

She is such a happy little girl. Well, she is with people she knows. We're often told by strangers and almost strangers that she's very serious and doesn't smile. At first I'd mumble about how happy she is.

Now I say things like "she just doesn't smile at idiots."

Truth being that she does smile at idiots, just idiots she loves.

Let's take a minute.

Not quick to accept things, Bug spends a great while working things out. When she was wee she'd stare at me for an age:

Who are you? What are you? Why are you?

I've passed her rigorous examinations. I think.

The world, though, is a big place. Long may she continue to give it the attention it deserves.

 

That's how it starts. Later there's running and screaming.

This is her in full flight. It is essence of Bug. Taken at our local library she's chasing one of her friends. This is why I love this photo. She's so happy, and it's because she's with people who love her, people who make her feel happy and safe, who let her be Bug without fear of judgement.

Babusch.

She loves books. I love it that she loves books. Bear and I met in an English Literature seminar during our first week at university. Words are a big part of why we fell in love. With Bug, we made a decision to put her books where she can easily access them. We get through between 10 and 20 a day -- most of them twice or thrice. 'Babusch' is what she says when she wants us to read a story again. Today, her favourite's are Toddle Waddle, Smartest Giant in Town, Mrs Pirate, and Death of a Salesman.

Bye for now.

Xx

PS

Yesterday I had my first fully formed 'Daddy.'

"Daddy," said Bug, pointing. " "Daddy daddy daddy!"

One very happy Daddy over here.

PPS

I wrote a blog a while back about inappropriate warnings on the back children's books:
Danger danger. I have another entry. This is a card we bought for one of Bug's friends birthdays. Firstly, look how old he is! Yey! 2! A big boy. Secondly, look at the warning at the bottom left of the card. Sigh.