Ode to Piglet: My busy, butt-scooting bubs

Piglet’s just turned 10 months old and has been keeping me real busy. Welllll …. to be fair, it isn’t just him. There’s Puppy, always with a hop, skip and a jump, and Lamb who sticks to me like velcro besides.

Hence my 2 week break from blogging recently.


… Piglet …

1) Piglet’s a super butt-scooter. I’m in no hurry for him to walk.

Take your time, Piglet, and just be. Mama’s watching the baby years disappear WAAAYY too fast.


2) He’s tried going out of the bedroom while my back was turned. Just to find out what made his siblings disappear out of the door in such a hurry.

Don’t forget to shut the insect screen door behind you, P.


3) He gets into stuff.

Of course, Piglet, you should.


4) Note: I have no time (or interest) in ensuring that he wears “boys bibs”. Grab whatever on hand. That’s survival.

You won’t mind, Piglet, I’m sure. You’re more Big Picture than that!


5) He picks up and attempts to eat all my mama-failings (aka. dirt) left on the floor because I crash into bed without vacuuming the evening before.

Gulp! Nothing major I hope.


6) He’s extremely interested in any kind of floor cleaning activity – sweeping, mopping, vacuuming. He wants to be carried whenever I do it, and starts whimpering whenever I stop. Watching the broom handle go back and forth is totally intriguing.

Oh yeah. Mama gets some good strength training while she cleans. Crack the whip, baby!

That explains the no-blogging of 2 weeks.

Oh yes, I’ve said that already. See? I’m losing it a little.

It’s Friday!! I’m in love.

(Sorry, The Cure is ringing in my head.)


7) His favourite food these days is any kind of fruit (durian excepting) and cheese on toast. He’s tried an interesting array of food, including Indian food like thosai, naan bread, and palak paneer. Two weeks ago, he got into some homemade pizza and loved it.

Yeah. Go on. Eat with your wee hands.

And try some dahl this weekend.


8) He’s still breastfeeding without a hint of formula over the horizon.

I’m not quite sure what to say about that, P. Enjoy it as long as it lasts.

And try to stop biting me there.


9) He belly laughs and has a rollicking sense of humour.

I love your laughing face, P. I can’t wait for your first joke.


10) Sometimes, he wakes up and says, “Ehh???” Like, where did YOU disappear to, Mama?? You left me to hang dry in the cold! If I’m next to him and give him the slightest glance, all the sunshine of a million mornings appears on his face.

There’s so much more to you, Piglet. You’re every bit a darling.

Want a little brother or sister to play with?


(Well now. That last bit was just to shock you, dear readers. Happy weekend!)


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It ain’t over when you think it’s over

The scent of the morning air, fresh and crisp after a rainy night, hit us the moment we stepped out of the house.

Never mind the fumbling around earlier, scrambling to get together cream cheese on toast, banana apricot cake that I thought we’d better eat up before it got bad, and bottles of water. Never mind Piglet clamouring around my feet in the kitchen, trying to reach for – what was that? – a piece of paper sticking out of the rubbish bin. Hey, butt-scooting baby No. 3, it’s time to hang up the trash.

It was going to be a great day.

Everyone was up earlier than usual so I planned breakfast in the park, hoping to catch the morning dew. Food, ball, frisbee and a spare nappy for Piglet in a bag, we were good to go.

We were early enough to catch the hive of activity at the park. There was a large group of line dancing women, mostly in their mid-50’s, jiggling their booty on the basketball court with pop music blaring away. Happiness! We seated ourselves at the edge of the court and I handed out slices of toast. Puppy and Lamb couldn’t sit for long. They were soon up on their feet, eating and staring at those ladies.

Nearby, a band of elderly folk were doing qi-gong. A pair was playing tennis. I was bent over, trying to negotiate toast through Piglet’s mouth when Puppy cried, “Look! Fans!” I turned and saw a group of elderly women doing some slow moves with crimson coloured fans. After a few minutes, they used swords! Faint, mother, faint.

“What’s that they’re doing?” the bunnies kept asking. I didn’t know.

Toast and cake done with, Puppy and Lamb started playing basketball on the empty side of the court. Puppy was delighted to get quite a few shots through the ring and Lamb was just plain happy, bouncing away and throwing some. Piglet sat contentedly on my lap, munching away. I drank in the sights, the breeze, the laughter, the music, the smiles of joggers passing by. We didn’t have kindergarten to rush to, we had all the time in the world.

Well, almost.

After lots of basketball, some frisbee, swings, tunnels and slides, the sun climbed higher in the sky and the groups began to disperse.

I wish I could’ve said that everything ended as well as our morning trips to the park usually do. But at the end of our happy hour, I had on my hands a squealing Lamb who’d bruised his shin on a step and a rather squirmy baby who kept wanting me to walk some more. I scooped Lamb up with my other free arm and tried to calm him down.

(Ask me about arm wrestling, I can beat any average man now. It’s just something I fancy thinking, so indulge me.)

We got home pretty smoothly, but all hell broke loose at the bathroom.

Tell me how to persuade a sweaty, dusty and screaming 3 year old to let you clean up a wound. Tell me how to stop his older 5 year old sister from screeching because she’s mad at you for trying to torture her little brother by cleaning up his wound. Also, the butt-scooting baby’s started wailing because his older siblings are bawling at the top of their lungs.

Anyway, all that finally got sorted ….. kind of.

After a mid-morning snack, poor Lamb again received the short end of the stick.

It happened this way. Piglet finally fell asleep after I spent 20 minutes putting him to bed. I went downstairs and was only 2 minutes into school time when he started crying. I rushed upstairs to settle him, but Lamb soon appeared at the bedroom door, pushing it open and shut numerous times until the sound woke Piglet up for good.

I yelled. “Why did you do THHHAAAAAAAAT???????”

Apparently, Lamb loves seeing me.

Tons of guilt, apologies and hugs later, Lamb tells me, “I’m so happy, Mama.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I have a Mama,” he says, and reaches out to squeeze my hand.

The crimson fans, swords and dancing ladies are quite the bomb, but my kid surely takes the spot.

Tomorrow, I’ll be doing it all over again. Trying to feed Piglet in his high chair while someone calls out for a butt wipe after a poo, and another bunny requests tooth-picking services because she can’t continue chewing her lunch with That Thing stuck in her teeth. And, because I’m lucky, it’ll all happen at the same time.

Remind me to draw a deep breath. I’ll smell the fresh morning air and think of my Lamb with a Mama.


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