Perception. It’s a funny old thing isn’t it? We all look at the world in a different way and my personal perception of the world has changed over the years. But in the past few months, as Holly has become more active and aware, I’ve found my perception of the world around us has changed once again and the simple things in life bring much delight to my 21 month old.

She’s gathering words at breakneck speed and using them with much gusto. Her list of words, growing every day, consists mainly of favourite foods, cuddly toys and people. And they’re practised at every given opportunity, no matter the location or time of day.

The beautiful abundance of flowers in a number of our neighbours’ gardens evoke giggles, squeals of delight and chants of ‘daisy, daisy!’ at every turn. What’s more we have to stop to examine almost every actual daisy on our walk to the local shops – a feat that adds at least half an hour to every five minutes of walking. Our frequent drives along the seafront are punctuated by the announcement of the sea’s presence every few metres. And having encouraged her use of sign language from an early age, Holly has a lovely mix of words and signs to express her needs, emotions and requests. She’s even started to make up her own signs, making comprehension of her constant chatter difficult for the unprepared onlooker.

Who needs expensive, space-robbing toys when one has the delights of the world to keep a toddler happy? Holly is never more satisfied than when she’s exploring our postage stamp of a garden, moving gravel from one corner to another, splashing in the shallows of the sea, listening to the birds singing at her from the trees or kicking her penny floater ball around on the green space over the road. These are the things she loves to do most in the world. Get her paddling pool out and equip her with a container or two with which to slowly empty said paddling pool and she’s in toddler heaven.

‘Birdies’ are spotted, aeroplanes traced across the sky, dogs waved at and patted where possible and cars receive a good old yelling at as they pass on by. And her joy in every aspect of her environment has, pleasantly, rubbed off on me too. Her Daddy and I find ourselves constantly looking out for things to point out to Holly; cows to ‘moo’ at, sheep to ‘baa’ at, ladybirds to ‘ooh’ at and cats to ‘meow’ at.

The three of us can spend many long, happy minutes chatting about the waves crashing on the beach, gazing at the small colourful windmill catching the wind in the back garden, replaying the recent thunderstorms in one word sentences and enjoying bubbles floating and popping, swirling and dancing.

And so it seems that, in a time when life is sometimes a complicated beast, perhaps a view of the world through a toddler’s eyes is just the break from the rat race that some of us need? Why not get out there and enjoy the countless lovely things that many of us have long since forgotten to notice?

There is indeed a lot to be said for the simple things in life.

by Helen Bowman © 2012

Helen Bowman is a freelance writer, editor and proof reader who lives in Whitley Bay and works with small companies, individuals and groups to write, edit and proof read articles, press releases, website copy and all forms of the written word.

Contact her on 07725 196929 or at helen@in-the-detail.co.uk for more information.

 

My baby is not such a baby any more. As you read this, she is 18 months old and toddling around the place with all the urgency (if not the lane discipline) of a 100 metre sprinter. But for the majority of those 18 months I’ve struggled inwardly (and sometimes not so inwardly) to find the courage to leave her to sleep overnight with her grandparents.

I always knew that the first time would be the hardest and that time came just a few weeks ago when Holly was around 16 months old. I admit, the problem with leaving her was entirely in my own head. Nothing to do with her. I knew, after all, that she would be absolutely fine and more than happy to stay at her grandparents’ house without us being there. But leave her I had to and, with a couple of events which necessitated not having her with us booked into the diary, we took the decision to have a practice run.

Holly was packed up and taken round to her Nana and Grandpa’s house for a lovely Saturday night sleepover. She was her usual, happy, carefree self and bounded into her grandparents’ house with glee aplenty. For me, however, it was a rather different picture. I’d spent the whole day dreading the drop off. Wishing the time to slow down and for the evening to just not bother arriving! But arrive it had and I was forced to admit that it was time to deposit her in the very capable hands of her grandparents and take my leave.

Were there tears? Tantrums? Refusals to accept the situation? Yes, absolutely. From me. Holly, on the other hand, was fine and dandy. She took it all in her stride, played with her plethora of toys, drank her milk and drifted peacefully off to sleep.

And so, it came to pass that my lovely husband and I had a whole night free. To do whatever we pleased. We could go out for a meal, go to the cinema, meet friends, have a few drinks, go to a party, go and see a show. Oh, the possibilities were endless… But instead, we chose to go home, lock the front door, place the telephone in an accessible spot should we be needed at short notice and wait the night out until such a time as we could go and fetch Holly back in the morning. OK, so we watched a film at high volume without the worry of waking our sleeping angel with loud explosions and overinflated chase scenes. But could we break the habit of talking in hushed tones in the kitchen or tiptoeing up the stairs to bed? Could we heck as like! For these are the things we do now. Our daughter is now such a massive part of our lives that even when she isn’t in the house we can’t help but think of her in everything we do.

What greeted me when I went round to pick her up at 9am the next day (I had to hold myself back from rocking up at 6am!) was a chirpy, happy little girl playing chase with her Grandpa, delighting everyone with her tinkling giggles and cheeky mimicry. The smile and cuddles she gave me as I walked through the door melted my heart and made the whole experience totally worth it (almost!).

So now we’ve made that momentous step in Holly’s life (which fazed her not one bit), I think hubby and I will arrange to actually do something next time Holly has a sleepover. Why not? Let’s push the boat out, eh?

by Helen Bowman © 2012

Helen Bowman is a freelance writer, editor and proof reader who lives in Whitley Bay and works with small companies, individuals and groups to write, edit and proof read articles, press releases, website copy and all forms of the written word.

Contact her on 07725 196929 or at helen@in-the-detail.co.uk for more information.

 

As a family we have now reached a happy, exciting and stimulating time in our little girl’s life. Now is the time when the firsts in her short life start coming thick and fast. Probably the most groundbreaking of these is her first steps.

Friday 13 January 2012. This day, unlucky for some, heralded a momentous occasion in our little family. That was the day our mini lady took her first solo steps – and boy oh boy has she enjoyed it ever since. I’m convinced, having witnessed a few wobbly, slightly unsure steps in the days preceding this date, that she made her decision to make a break for full on walking based on the fact that she had a full and encouraging audience that day. In a moment of pure coincidence both sets of grandparents had turned up on our doorstep within minutes of each other and the opportunity was obviously too good for Holly to miss. With all eyes on her and six pairs of hands poised for uproarious applause, she rid herself of all supports and ventured out on her own. With the sound of whoops, hollers and delighted clapping in her ears she came back for encore upon encore until her initial wobbly steps turned into crazed and confident strides right before our eyes. I managed not to cry (much).

Anyway, since discovering her new found freedom Holly has become an entirely different little character. She loves being on the move and will rarely sit down. Now she can reach new heights, scale new obstacles and hunt out new adventures.

With her new found mobility also seems to have come an awe-inspiring stealth the like of which I’ve never seen before. She can cross the room in a second, squeeze herself into the tiniest gap and disappear from view only to reappear in a totally different part of the house with the board book of ‘The Gruffalo’s Child’ in hand, ready for a reading session.

Every day, without fail, I find myself with company in the bathroom. No sooner have I stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed than I see the door glide silently open and a small shape, blurred by the pattern on the shower curtain, slip deftly into the room. The little shape progresses down the length of the bath, makes a grab for the curtain and pulls it back as fast as lightening to reveal her beaming face in a ‘Peepbo’ style. “Dah!” she calls in delight, bringing to mind an image of a tiny magician revealing the pinnacle of her best trick – Tah dah! And nothing makes her happier at this stage than to drop one or more of her precious soft toys into the shower with Mummy, culminating in an altogether soggy experience for all concerned.

And her new ability to view the world from a higher position is causing a number of challenges for us. Probably the most amusing of these is Holly’s penchant for ‘posting’ small objects in all sorts of unusual hiding places. Up until now I’ve found a two-dimensional orange in the mobile phone pocket of my handbag, a handful of pegs in my coat pocket and a miniature wellington boot tucked very snugly inside my own walking boots.

In this wondrous new stage of parenthood, who knows what other surprises are lurking out there? I, for one, can’t wait to find out.

by Helen Bowman © 2012

Helen Bowman is a freelance writer, editor and proof reader who lives in Whitley Bay and works with small companies, individuals and groups to write, edit and proof read articles, press releases, website copy and all forms of the written word.

Contact her on 07725 196929 or at helen@in-the-detail.co.uk for more information.

 

“Are you going to go back to work?”

I don’t know how many times I’ve been asked this particular question since my firstborn’s arrival back in 2010. But the answer is always the same.

“Oh yes. I intend to. I run my own business so I work from home. Holly’s such a good natured little thing so I’m sure I’ll be able to work with her at home with me. Perhaps while she naps during the day, and I’ve put loads of toys in my office so she can play while I’m busy – it’ll be great!”

Little did I realise that the flashing lights of the wireless router under my desk would prove so appealing to my darling girl. And so at least once every ten minutes I find myself, head under my desk, retrieving a little wriggling mass from amidst the wiring. And after the third time of retrieval she begins to realise it isn’t a fun game and that I’m really not going to let her play with the electrics – that’s when the squealing starts. Distraction works wonders in this situation and the squealing stops. But it’s at this point that I realise I’m sitting on the floor playing with Holly and not actually getting any work done. Time for a change of plan.

And so I bring the laptop downstairs, the plan being to sit and work whilst Holly plays in the lounge, the home of all her favourite toys. Plus this room has been more carefully baby-proofed than my office so there are no flashing lights or tempting crawl holes for her to make a bee-line towards. Sorted.

Except of course, now that Holly is a five star cruiser, a laptop on Mummy’s knee is the perfect height for her little hands to begin communicating her creativity. And what better way than to ‘help’ Mummy with her writing? And so it has come to be that much of my recent work has been punctuated with little gems such as:

Sfrqde gvvdfd ogfhgdsv qw3weewdfbwre45 \\yA7FDoooooo

I think additions like these bring a little ‘je ne sais quoi’ to my work – wouldn’t you agree? It also turns out that my 14 month old is a little computer genius, such are her skills to turn on facilities in my Microsoft programs that I didn’t even know existed – I have such a gifted child!

I’m sure there will come a time when my ‘working from home during the day’ dreams will be realised. My writing will be prolific while my daughter busies herself with one of her quieter toys (OK, that’s probably where my dreams become fantasy). But until that time I’m more than happy to stow my laptop away and make day time ‘Holly time’. Working evenings and weekends are here to stay for the time being and I wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, back in 2006 when I started out on my business venture (when Holly was but a twinkle in my eye and I hadn’t even met her Daddy yet!) the major driving force was the thought of having the flexibility to be able to work my own hours and spend as much time as possible with my children. And so it has come to pass.

Right, time to finish up and put the laptop away before Holly wants to offer her opinion once again. Until next time.

by Helen Bowman © 2012

Helen Bowman is a freelance writer, editor and proof reader who lives in Whitley Bay and works with small companies, individuals and groups to write, edit and proof read articles, press releases, website copy and all forms of the written word.

Contact her on 07725 196929 or at helen@in-the-detail.co.uk for more information.

 

I remember (albeit vaguely) the lazy, hazy days of my childhood and hold dear some very fond memories from that time. Summer holidays seemed to stretch into eternity and a day, a week, a month, held endless possibilities. So much to do, so much to see, so much to learn.

As those delicious, warm and fuzzy memories soften a little round the edges, I truly hope that I’ll remember them for many years to come. But what about the years ahead? Is it just me, or is time and everything that it sweeps up in its blustering path now hurtling towards me at break neck speed? Does it swallow me up in its veritable whirlwind and spit me out on the other side, my head spinning, my feet throbbing and my heart aching for a little more time with my daughter as a baby? Yes, it undoubtedly does and its increased speed and fleeting, lingering touch is something that terrifies me.

Did someone accidently (or perhaps on purpose) press the fast forward button around this time last year, placing me on the fast track of life? Perhaps it was Holly? Maybe she triggered something within me, as she was born, meaning that now, life hurtles by at a terrifying rate, never to be slowed to the protracted, languid pace of life we all once knew.

Is this what parenthood is all about? I mean, time has passed faster and faster as the years of my life have increased in number – of that I have no doubt. But since Holly burst into our lives, my husband and I both agree that we’ve entered some kind of warp speed. Simple jobs that used to be completed in one afternoon now take careful planning, many aborted attempts and several days to come to fruition. Months disappear in the blink of an eye and meal times come around with alarming regularity.

Is it something to do with living by such a routine, necessitated by living with a baby? Perhaps, as a child I took no notice of the hours ticking by. My schedule was the responsibility of my Mum. I cared not for timings, timetables or itineraries. Now, as a Mum myself, timing is so important. Nap times, meal times, play times, changing nappy times, bath times, bed times… the list goes on.

And no sooner was my little one born than she smiled her first smile, enjoyed (perhaps overstating it) her first meal, cut her first tooth, sat up for the first time, broke into her first crawl, babbled her first nonsense sentence, stood her first stance and called me ‘Mama’ for the first time. All these things have happened, and many more. And still she’s only one year old. Where did that year go?

I know that I am incredibly lucky and we have so many wonderful, happy memories to make in years to come. But seriously, why does this magical, enchanting, heart rending time as the parent of a baby have to be gone in the blink of an eye? Is it some kind of cruel trick of nature? This has been, bar none, the most amazing time of my life so far and I’ve loved every millisecond, no matter how fleeting. My only slight regret is that it had to go by quite so quickly. Everyone always said to me “Make the most of it, they aren’t babies for long”. And this, just like many of the other clichés in life, has turned out to be alarmingly true.

I know that time marches on. But could we maybe rein it in to a sedate plod rather than a frantic gallop? Please?

by Helen Bowman © 2011

Helen Bowman is a freelance writer, editor and proof reader who lives in Whitley Bay and works with small companies, individuals and groups to write, edit and proof read articles, press releases, website copy and all forms of the written word.

Contact her on 07725 196929 or at helen@in-the-detail.co.uk for more information.