Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Naughty Buttons Turns Two

A couple of weeks ago Ivy turned two. I feel the baby in her slipping away as she turns into a little girl. I still spend so much time with her that I know almost every thought that crosses her mind – I’m familiar with her whole world, her every friend, her every reference. I know what she means when she begs 'Havitapoon, Mummy!' (I want to eat this cheese with a spoon) or 'Singa flippy hat, shake it, Mummy'' ( Pretend you are a dancing scarecrow). Part of me wants it to always stay this way. But as she starts spending time at day-care, and I don’t see everything that she experiences, she grows more and more into her own person, and away from Mummy.

It’s so beautiful, but it breaks my heart a little bit. Is it wrong that I am desperate for her to go to bed at the end of the day, and yet would like to carry her around in my handbag for the rest of my life?

At two, Ivy is fascinating to watch. It’s all about ‘no’ these days, as she learns about her own power. Asking any question: ‘Can you put on your shoes?’ or ‘Are you ready for lunch?’ is an invitation for her to respond in the negative. To be Not-Mummy. Her only real power is to thwart her parents – and she loves to use it.

At two, Ivy’s dramatic flair is growing, and so is her love of comedy. These days she likes to pretend to be sleeping when you try to eject her from her car seat, put her clothes wackily on the wrong appendages, hide things behind her back, and try on the fake crying voice she uses when she imitates the baby: ‘Waah, waah’: to get sympathy. She knows a good gag when she’s pulled one - she tries to hide the smile of delight at her own wit, and can’t quite manage it.

At two, she spends a lot of energy ordering and making sense of her world. She uses her own name constantly. ‘Up, Ivy.’ ‘Please, cheese, Ivy.’ ‘Please, Ivy, pants off, Ivy.’ Her ‘friends’ (stuffed animals Dodo, TJ, Warm Tiger, Mousie and Norah) play a changing cast of characters in the ongoing play of her life. She uses them to act out everything that happens and everything she thinks about. Her friends get into trouble for disobeying Mummy, tipping water or biting each other and get sent to the corner. They fall over, hit their heads and have a cuddle. They get stung by bees and tread on bindies. They sit on the potty, breastfeed like Teddy, somersault like Daddy and play naughty games like jumping on the bed.

Ivy’s passions are many: jumping, laughing, Thomas the Tank Engine, books, motorbikes, tipping, underpants, cake mix, the beach, somersaults, blueberries, olives, The Wheels on The Bus, her grandmothers, big girls, any kind of straps, and drawing eyes, ears and silly men. She is charming, funny, affectionate, curious and has a whim of iron.

'Ivy do it' is her favourite phrase.


  1. this entry mde me cry and cry and cry. i know exactly what you mean. me and tilda all over!

  2. Ummm... I think you might have Shelley's kids.


Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.