– 9:03 am
The house is asleep. I bet The Retreat where you are is too. Merry Christmas son. We love you today more than we did yesterday.
This time last year we were packing to Riga and bracing ourselves for the plane journey. O’My you’ve grown! I get all that “they grow up so quick” sentiment now. The other day you said “Ateh”, tapping your chest as you said it. We can’t figure out how you made that connection. Neither house can. So yeah, you’re growing up lightning quick. And we’re here for it.
PS – I’m hoping you’re piecing together that Christmas is no big deal in our family. Not by conventional standards i.e. tree, lights, gifts etc. NY’s is though. It’s a Russian thing. I couldn’t care less for either.
At sixteen months, you’re also getting better and better at repeating words. It’s funny when you do it unexpectedly. The other day, I was changing your nappy upstairs and cracked open the door to yell downstairs. “Yo! Can you please take my eggs off the fire?”. I turned back to you and you were going “Yo, yo, yo…” And we were both pissing ourselves laughing. The takeaway is that it won’t be long before you’re swearing at people, not long now.
You have a better grasp of Russian than English too. It’s currently a three-to-one ratio at the moment so that makes sense. I’ve made a point to only speak to you in English so you’re not lost in translation in an all-English setting. I’m trying to save you from that nightmare.
Nevertheless, that’s currently all down the road stuff. You’re still in mumbo-jumbo territory, pointing at things and audibly spewing complete gibberish. Or as your mother calls it, Lianish. We’re learning it and getting better too. For example, “mana” means “banana”. “Mama” is “mama” or depending on the context, it’s anything good. Mama is God. She’s everywhere, all the time and all-encompassing.
Yesterday evening, Liza said to me, “Can you please help me with his attitude? I don’t understand all the smacking and biting”. She’d texted me earlier from the park saying you’d thrown a massive fit and tantrum. This has been happening for some time now and she’d sent me this article that morning on how to deal with baby aggression. I think the biggest issue is you seem to be selective with whom you have this behaviour, very rarely with me. You’re using different strokes for different folks. So this is the other side of you growing up.
Frankly speaking, your mother is quite upset about it. It was clear to see when we hashed it over dinner. She thinks it’s abnormal, I think it’s part of growing up. Regardless, this is one thing to apologise for when you come of age. It’ll buy you a lot of currency. You’re welcome. You owe me punk.
We don’t have a clear path to take towards conflict resolution. I advised implementing some of the techniques from the article but more importantly, being stern when confronting that behaviour. I think her strong face is way too subtle. It’s easy to confuse (as a child) for another expression. For example, you know my “STOP IT” face. When you hear “Aie” with the face to match, you know exactly what I’m on about. I also asked Liza to give some room between discipline and love so you can process the difference. Currently, you might be mashing both together. I think it’s perfectly normal to let you cry a little and come to terms with your actions and their consequences. Your mother may be too quick to hug you. It’s a work in progress and the needle must push forward.
Some weeks ago, Google hosted a kid’s Christmas party at their offices. Looking at the pictures and videos, you had a blast. I think it’s how well-behaved you are in public that makes it for your mother. The education is there (and instilled by your GMama) but a small part of me wonders whether it’s also due to the lack of social skills. Perhaps you’re simply to yourself because you don’t want to engage with humans. I mean, I get it, I don’t like people either, especially in groups. However, this isn’t something that requires an action. I don’t even have enough information to make a call. So just be yourself. Also, your social skills are way better (and we didn’t have to go overboard to get there). We only did a month of babysitting and Valentina is only a call to make for emergencies now.
It was GMama’s birthday December 4 I believe. So your mother made you sign her card. We had (some very good Latvian) honey cake on Alpha Road.
Speaking of emergencies, guess who made their first trip to A&E? Yeah, you won that shitty price. As a precursor to all this, COVID has been dancing between the houses for the past weeks. I’ve been gradually coughing out my lungs this entire time. Your grandparents are still recovering and last night was the first time in a week they could take you for the night. It’s been messy managing the symptoms. There’s a ziplock on the countertop with all imaginable meds in it.
To be honest, we (or at least I knew) this was coming, subconsciously. In the buildup, I wouldn’t shut up about what it would be like and hopefully, your first trip to A&E isn’t serious. Your mother thinks I jinxed your good health. But the night GPops picked you up for The Retreat, Liza had been poorly for days and tested positive. She was very unwell. You were completely fine though and your usual self.
We woke up to several missed calls, on both phones. I sleep with earplugs and every incoming call after 10 pm gets automatically silenced. It was also a school night for me… So yeah, no chance I would’ve heard or noticed them. I’ve however just updated their profile settings on my phone to let their calls and messages through in case something like this happens again. Liza’s up now so I’ve just instructed her on how to do the same.
But it turns out, your temperature had been fluctuating all night, skyrocketing up and down. Your folks had been fighting it with Calpol. Good ol’ Calpol to the rescue. I was thinking about what we would do if we were them and they did the right thing for sure not coming over. Not that late, risking the safety of one and leaving the other with a sick baby.
When we called back in the morning, you were finally sleeping. You got weaker throughout the day but still managed to throw in the odd smile here and there. You’re a hero like that. Just after two, I had to curtail a work meeting (which was near ending anyway) to take you to A&E as your temperature was back seesawing. We also didn’t want to leave it till evil hours at night. Rather deal with this now.
The wait at the hospital was as you’d expect, forever long and painful. Your mother and I discussed whether making that drive into the city to a paid medical facility is a wiser option. Food for thought, for next time.
A nurse eventually came to take some vitals – temperature, blood saturation and the like. Not long after, we were taken into a room away from the general waiting area where the other sickened kids were.
The doctor eventually confirmed my suspicions that we’d been bumped up the queue after the rudimentary test results.
Some more tests, crying and a bottle of milk later, we were given some electrolytes and told we could leave. The Dr said to control the fever and temperature with Calpol and Ibuprofen. Word around town is Ibuprofen is poison. I wasn’t going to argue with your mother. She says most mums (including Maria) agree. So we’re back to Calpol (which gives rashy red cheeks every single time). The next day you tested positive for COVID. Surprise surprise. You were back running around after only two days though. That was the real shocker.
In brighter news, on November 23, your mother and I got court married. She loves my cooking and I need those EU papers. So it works out superbly. I didn’t think I’d be so emotional and so happy. Manu came down from LA and we entertained a small group at the house. He brought you a spaceman who projects the galaxy onto the walls to remarkable effect. You’re a fan, especially of the remote. Every button has had its head smashed in.