Tag Archive | iPad

End-of-week observations

Dear Max

Some observations from the week:

– Adopting a dog from the SPCA or any welfare organisation is a good thing to do
– The new section of Sandton City is amazeballs
– When someone is feeling guilty, or they know they’ve been shits, or they are very small, they can’t look you in the eye, and it’s hard for them to greet you
– Whisky Live is fun, and I now have a penchant for Glenmorangie
– We have a beautiful new dog (more to follow soon)
– I think I need a stern talk with myself, and Woolworths chocolate chip yoghurt. OMG. I think I have a problem stopping at just small carton. In fact, it’s pretty much futile just buying one
– It was pointed out to me that I have 20G of apps on my iPad

Til next week,

The one with your first “haircut”

Dear Max

So last week I decided to take you for a trim, even after the poll on this blog showed a very strong no to lobbing off your locks. So I thought I’d go the quarter road, and take you for a trim, just to neaten and get you looking like your mom actually tends to you and brushes your hair every week or so. And everyone knows, that the word “trim” in hairdresser speak actually means “please cut as much as you’d like off, and go wild with the scissors. You’re the boss”.

And that’s how it felt as your blonde curls got hacked off (allow me some drama here) and fell into my lap (and iPad, on which you were playing in order to distract you from the irritation and boredom of getting your hair cut). And I sat and got quite teary about the change, but then once it was done and most of your tresses dusted off my lap and iPad, I looked at you, and realised how cute/handsome/grown-up you look with your new fro. Your hair looks in good shape (after years of working on women’s magazines I should know that a great cut does this), and you look like a gorgeous well-kempt little dude. Your dad loves it too.

And as the old saying goes, hair can always grow back. But let’s face it, it never really does the same… and often there’s nothing wrong with that.

Here’s a look:


Just after (you even got a sucker)

Some more handsomeness…

Your new bedhead...

Building a Lego tower taller than you at Sci-Bono

Love you,

It’s the small things in life

Dear Max

How proud you make me! You know how to switch on the iPad, slide the on button, find the “kids” folder and get to whichever app you fancy. Now I *know* this might not be higher grade, but I’m impressed. Not only are you tech-savvy, but you’re developing all the time.

And as your mom, I’ve decided it’s my right to take joy and pride in the small things, because so many smalls make for big happiness and a huge heart, and really really make parenting so much more rewarding.

So next time I Facebook a pic of a haphazard drawing of yours, or Instagram a picture of you pushing a wheel toy with your friend Luca, or get tears in my eyes when you say “dankyooooo” when I give you something, I’m cementing my place as a proud mom.

Which is why every “milestone” is felt, written down or stuck in a scrapbook or your memory box. That’s how I roll with the small good things.

I love you, my iPad “expert”




Where you’re at now…

Dear Max

I so understand what people mean when they say that kids just get better, cuter and more “rewarding” as they develop. Not that I didn’t think you were perfect and rewarding and cute before, but jees, you’re upping your game each week.

So here’s what you’ve been up to, and how you’re developing. It’s amazing how your small acts and milestones leave large imprints on happiness and pride in my life:

– You love drawing with any writing instrument you come across (before Rex takes said writing instrument and chews it – I’ve lost a couple of Hello Kitty pens in the process)
– You shout “aaaaaarghout” to the dog when he bugs you or tries to eat whatever’s in your hand
– You love pointing at people in pictures and objects when I ask you where they are
– * When you take something from someone (eg food or a toy), you clap out of gratitude before you take it
– You blow on food to cool it down
– You had your first fringe haircut yesterday – you loved it! Much to my horror, you took the scissors afterwards and tried to emulate me (I assume) cutting your hair. Good news is that you didn’t succeed – your long shiny curls are here to stay for now.
– You know how to work Tom the Talking Cat on my iPhone and iPad all by yourself.
– You’re feeding yourself really ably with a spoon.

Love you long time…

* This is something I’m so proud of – that you already know the concept of gratitude. It makes me happy that your two other “moms”, Mavis and Vee, have instilled their practice in you.

Funny Maxisms this week

Dear Max

Along with your rapid development and change come such cute anectodes and funny actions that I *need* to record them here. And in case some of them worry you and you think “How could my parents let me do that”, please know that no animals, parents or babies were hurt along the way.

Some of your cute moments this week included:
– Taking cans of food from the pantry and putting them in your toy shopping cart
– Taking two forks out of the drawer and gently poking at Rex
– Walking to the park – and I mean walking – and you playing in every water puddle you came across. You particularly liked the puddle at the park, and splashed water and dipped your whole body in the mud pool.
– Coming to Rex’s first puppy training course, and going around to all the dogs and patting them. The trainer was not only impressed with how calm I was, but how good-natured you were, and how you helped the puppies socialise with you. She said you are welcome to come to any of the lessons! Proud moment, plus Rex learnt how to sit! Let’s hope he has now learnt how to not shit in the house.
– Sharing food with Rex – for example giving him some of your fruit, him licking what’s in your hand and you carrying on eating it, and you eating half of his dog biscuit (I need to add here that I made these biscuits so I know what’s in them, and they’re actually quite healthy. Like human biscuits without the sugar, and with added parsley and mint for good breath).
– Watching Dad play Angry Birds on the iPad, then flinging yourself from one side of the bed to another. This may or may not be a reaction to the slinging of birds.

Have I also mentioned that you were overall cute and brilliant again? You’re the best.

Love Mom

Bubbly and braais

Dear Max

Today is the last day of the year, which means tonight is traditionally a time to party to welcome in the new year. I look forward to this evening less than I do a visit to the dentist, or getting up in front of a big crowd for a spot of public speaking. I dislike New Year’s Eve. A lot, and I’d rather clean up 10 20 of Rex’s poos off the carpet than be forced to celebrate with lots of people. And it’s not that I’m negative about the new year, or am dreading it – I’m actually excited and optimistic about 2011. Rather, New Year’s Eve is often a time of frenetic last-minute plans, drunks, and extreme pressure to do something cool, have fun and count down to 2011 in the most jovial way.

Over the years, on New Year’s Eve, I’ve, in no particular order:
– awkwardly hugged strangers
– left parties early to avoid the awkward hugs and kisses
– had shoe polish smeared on my face
– been stranded without a way home
– been too drunk and sick to make it to the new year
– stood awkwardly while all as a singleton, all my friends snogged their boyfriends at midnight
– been vomited on
– experienced a leak in the ceiling causing us to abandon ship and miss the turn of the year
– fallen asleep early because I was too depressed to stay awake until 12am because I wasn’t having The Time Of My Life.

My best New Year’s Eves have been spent at home with Dad, with some bubbly and a braai (and perhaps an attempt to beat my Boggle-for-iPad score), with no pressure to do anything/hug anyone/be the picture of happiness/stay awake until 12am! And even though most people now assume we stay in because of you, and because we don’t have a babysitter, it’s actually how we roll these days.

And tomorrow morning, we’ll hopefully wake up with a spring in our step (that is, if Rex hasn’t eaten another of your toys or caused more carnage in the house), and go for a run, with you in the jogger. And that, for us, is a good beginning.

Yours in at-home celebrations