OK, so we'll never make it into the top ten of fascinating, or even regularly updated, blogs. I try my best and am always thinking about entries. Honestly I am.
So, instead, here's a round-up of the most important Summer goings on.
Friends to Stay
We had lots of visitors for a while including visits from Max's future wife and her family. She bit his toe, which was not a good start, but by the second visit they started to get along really well, which was very nice to see. We also had a lovely weekend with ex-ante-natal-class friends and their kiddies who are supposed to be Max's buddies. Problem is, Max wasn't really very nice to them though a little bit of a poke, a punch and a pinch is understandable when a 19 month old has his space invaded. But whilst these little angels packed away their blueberry pancakes and happily trotted around Regensburg holding on to their Mummies' hands, our little 'angel' was running riot, throwing food around the city and heading into the path of oncoming traffic. It really was a lovely weekend but clearly the little man didn't like sharing his Mummy, and his Mummy felt woefully inadequate. Funny thing is, it's always Mummy who looks bad when the angel turns into a devil isn't it? It's always Mummy who is paranoid about what on earth locals can be thinking especially as German kids always seem so well behaved and their parents appear to be in complete shock when they see my lunatic live-wire. And yes, I do see Max as an extension of myself and I do feel as though I, personally, am a failure and that all my offspring will turn out to be mass murderers when a grubby hand lobs a tomatoey gnocchi at a passing Regensburgher.
Paranoid women should never become Mums. Another blog entry in the pipeline...
Nursery
Max does love nursery though. They told me he is only 'lieb' (loving) and is a 'Traumkind' (dream child). At nursery, when you put food in front of him, he picks up his spoon or fork and eats it (although he does sometimes still use his hands). He hugs other children. He runs around independently and plays nicely on his own. He doesn't cry or complain or pinch or bite or kick. Henceforth, Max will be taking residence at that local nursery.
Really and Truly a Mama at Last
This shouldn't really be my blog entry. It's Marion's show. At long last, after months of intrusive and, frankly, idiotic questioning, friendships undermined, bureaucratic hurdle upon bureaucratic hurdle stumbled over, Marion has officially adopted our little man. A lovely day. Even Staines was sunny and bright. A lovely moment – flowers for the 'new' Mama, nice words and smiles from the Magistrates, a toy train for Max (from the magistrates) and lots of family in attendance as well as a tear shed by the proud Great Grandma. Max didn't even mind the long drive home too much (well, I did have my fingers in my ears for the last stretch).
Back to see 'Mangar'
Max's Grandma used to be known as 'Mangar'. But he has grown up a lot since then and can say 'Ganma' properly now. And Nannak Dayf (sounds like Klingon but definitely means Granddad Dave). Even when Skype isn't working (most of the time), Max is screaming 'Hiyo Ganma' at the computer at the top of his voice. He loved visiting her and especially his beloved 'goggies' who scare him when they bark but most of the time thrill him to bits. He got to catch up and meet lots of family properly and almost behaved himself some of the time!
Only downside was that Max got really clingy with his Mama. When she was there, he needed his Mama to comfort him and his Mama to pick him up. And he certainly didn't want his Mama to be in another room for anything longer than about 15 seconds. Just shows you that biology has nothing to do with it. Marion is as connected as any biological Mummy could ever be and Max, so far, even prefers her to the one who carried him and pushed him out! Mummy feels slightly inferior at times over this and slightly left out and ever so slightly hurt and annoyed. On the other hand, if he wanted me to carry him around all day, my back would be well and truly knackered. So why is Max like this with his Mama? (Nice) answers on a postcard...
Still no friends and Max is ill
Well actually, Max isn't ill any more. He was ill, coughing, moody, moany and worst of all not eating. Max couldn't go to nursery. Mummy couldn't do any work. Mummy went into meltdown and made sure the world knew about it. Only problem is that the world is still quite small right now. Poor Marion got the brunt. Now Max is on the mend (little left over cough but not much else) and everything seems a little brighter. Still no friends (apart from the neighbours and their wonderful kids who take Max out to play at the park on his tricycle for hours on end) but once swimming and music and tumble tots (not to mention some crazy aerobics stuff I've gone and registered myself for) starts, life will take off. Won't it? Maybe we should have moved to Berlin.
