Monday …. birthdays and wine estates …..

Isabelle turns 4 on Monday, 10 June 2013.

She is in the running to be my favourite child.

I know people say “I love all my children the same” … yeh, I think you do, but you love them differently.

I have different connections with each of my children, and I like different things about them.

I know I should be “like and sharing” more “if you love your child then like this image” but I am not sure I like them enough all the time to do that.  If I start sharing all that crap on Facebook then I can’t sit here in my cushion of sarcasm and judge other people who do.  It is a little burst of joy I have, please do not rob me of it.

I like it about as much as I like the one where people are telling me how much they love their sexy husbands on Facebook status updates — for the love of gd, get a room, get off Facebo0k, make him a pie or something.



If that shit floats your boat, please carry on as you were …. am I the only one who wants to stab people who like and relike and then share this shit?

But I digress ….. Isabelle is a challenging child.

She is four (on Monday) and her speech is probably that of a 2 and a 1/2 year old.

She can make the sounds, can sound out the alphabet, and the word if you do it with her, but she has an inability to plan a word, so in her hands you end up standing there and not having a clue what she is rattling on about.

We have done speech therapy, and I must be honest, I am not sure it is working.

I am not convinced she would have made the same level of speech progress if just left to get on with it.

I get what she is saying about 70% of the time, the other 30% I am standing there with a furrow in my forehead while she is saying the same thing.  Louder and louder.  And I still have no idea what she wants.

Eventually it results in me yelling: “use your words, I do not know what you want” and her then starting to escalate the demand and scream and cry at the same time.  Usually when I am trying to drive, and she is in the back of the car and wants me to do something.  While I am driving.  It sometimes involves me taking off her shoes.  Just to reiterate I am driving, and she is sitting in the third row of a van …..

Because she struggles to be understood she tends to throw wobblies (a nice word for going off her fkn face in the kitchen) because she wants something.

She knows what it is, and is screaming it at us, and we are standing there handing her the tomato sauce, a spoon, a small unopened bag of cookies, a tin of tuna, change for the blind, when actually she would like a glass of Pinotage.

She is the youngest in our family, and probably the child we fear the most.

Hands down she would beat Connor and Georgia in a bare hands fist fight.

I think Connor and Georgia have realised arguing with her is pointless because if she does not get what she wants, then odds are she will kick you in the groin.  On the up side she says “kick you” very clearly, so we do praise her every time with “well done Isabelle” – I sense we might be sending a mixed message.

Monday is her birthday.  Her birthday is overshadowed every year as Georgia has her birthday on the 20th, and we do a combined party – but only with Georgia’s friends.  I am not sure Isabelle has realised she has not had a birthday since she arrived, but she is not saying, so we are taking that as a non-issue.

This year I was planning to send cake to school and maybe organise a face painter or something.  But instead (because I can’t get a face painter) I have decided that I will spend the day with her.

Have a Isabelle Day.

I will send her to school in the morning with cake, so she can still celebrate a bit with her friends, and then I will collect her at 12h00 and we can head out and do a nice lunch and find a play area.

She can then walk around Toys R Us and choose a present for herself – maybe stop at a wine estate, I think she will like that.  I think once she has gone to Toys R Us, I will be such a hero, I could probably take her to a three hour reading of Moby Dick, and I will still be a hero!

The one benefit of working for myself – if we discount the risk of financial insolvency, and the constant nagging sensation that maybe you really need to spend more time on bizcommunity and get yourself a damn job – is that I can take off a few hours and spend it with Isabelle on her birthday, and do not have to fill in a pile of paperwork, nor weasel up to my boss with tears in my eyes.

Cool that!  Happy Isabelle Day on Monday (and happy David D’Aguiar Day on Monday as well!!).