3/52

Ellery: embracing the (messy) top knot

Aubrey: dig, dig, dig

2/52

Ellery: usual scenes

Aubrey: following in big brother's footsteps (literally)

1/52

 Ellery: usually moving at speed (as a reindeer or a super hornet)

Aubrey: the best playground (in the first shot, he is saying 'ha-yo' to the driftwood horse

51/52

Ellery: absorbed in play

Aubrey: birdspotting

50/52

Ellery: wild as the wind, with dirt

Aubrey: rockpool running

24/52

Bubble delight with Grandma!

It's not often we get visits from his interstate Grands.

So this early morning bubble play with Grandma in the front yard is extra special.

Especially when Grandma teaches you how to blow your first bubble!

Thanks Grandma and Pop for making the very long road trip to see us - we love having you here!

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Oh and may I count the ways in which we love winter? One, for the chance to wear woollens and retro Hawaiian shirts (which makes it our most fabulous weather in my books). Two, for the quiet chilly beaches, and winter beaches always remind me of this amazing roadtrip. And three, for the respite from our very long, dastardly summer.

Joining in with Jodi.

You can see the whole series of portraits here.

23/52

My little companion.

I often wonder what it must be like to have a little girl.

This one, he is all boy.

Or should that be *BOY!*

He smells of Vegemite and sweat.

His engine runs hot. And he is always running, running, running.

Or climbing, digging, sifting, splashing... or down on his belly inspecting ants soldiering through forests of grass.

He is determined and vocal, but the shyest kid there ever was (other than me!).

Always carrying things, here, there... and daily rearranging our house in the process. 

He has a large obsession with lids and buttons, locks and levers. And water. And things that go - the more flashing lights, the better. And smelling e-very-thing.

His first tiny dreadlocks have appeared... and the problem of his fringe (won't have it cut). What to do? For now we're taking the path of least resistance and hoping it grows quickly and out of his eyes. And sticking a clip in it sometimes :-0 

And besides, a boy living at a lighthouse needs a shaggy do.

Joining in with Jodi.

You can see the whole series of portraits here.

21/52

"Winter's coming."

We've been talking with Ellery about the seasons. He knows winter is coming - and rejoices in exclaiming it whenever there's mention of rugging up. We've been donning our woollens. Leaving the beach early as the dark and cold descend. And warming up with cups of tea. (He likes chamomile.)

It gets surprisingly cool here. Exposed to full coastal blows as we are. In a house built for Queensland summers.

We saw the first whales of the season this week, making their winter journey north to warmer waters. I can hardly believe it's our third whale season here! Our first season, he was newborn. On the tail end of the last season, he saw them for the first time. And now, as a soon-to-be two-year-old, perhaps he'll start laying down memories of these amazing creatures.

Thanks to everyone who commented on last week's portrait - I'm a bit blown away by the attention! (We are relieved that the night terrors have been short-lived, thus far.)

Joining in with Jodi's 52 project.

You can see the whole series of portraits here.

gripe

If lack of sleep is associated in any way with higher than average intelligence, as I have heard, then our child is EXTREMELY GIFTED. Though I suspect this is just an ego-petting line in the vein of 'if you suffer from morning sickness your baby will be healthy'.

I feel like we've had more than our fair share of sleep issues.

Catnaps. Nap rousings. Nap refusals. Extremely-late-in-the-day naps. Way-too-long naps. Will only be fed/rocked/driven to sleep naps. Nap wakings that set off seismic monitors along the Eastern Seabord. Bedtime refusals. Night-time wake-ups to the power of this-has-become-my-entire-life-for-gods-sake-just-sleep! Three AM starts. Five AM starts. Five AM starts. Five AM starts. And in the last week, night terrors. (Plus the usual chorus of wake-ups, nap refusals and early risings.) 

When I think back on his nearly two years of life, I recall small spells when the sleep was good. Meaning he only woke up twice at night. 

I am clawing out my eyes through lack of sleep, exhaustion, end-of-my-tetherness. And I am the (only) sound-sleeper of the three of us.

I want my evenings back.

Cancel that.

I want some time back at the end of the day without being so burnt out that I can actually do things.

I am pretty much down to feeding him once during the day - in a quest for a daytime nap - and at nighttime wake-ups. I have had an intense urge to wean. But then I think about the trauma it would inflict on him and give up the idea as fanciful fluff. And there's the small issue of how I'd get him to sleep... though in a very recent development I've had some success with guided meditation at night.

I probably could have just posted a very long uuuurrrggghhhhh. And spared you three minutes.

I am biding my time. And hoping his current spell of angst dissolves. Pronto.

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Oh and Blogger, why doth you change your font size settings so?