M-Shed - by Theo

After a rather disastrous park trip this morning - Rosie wanted to be carried the whole way and didn't want to go on anything when she got there - we decided some indoor exercise for our tiny toddler was in order. So we bundled ourselves into Granny's Go Kart, picked up Aunty Hermione in Clifton, and headed to the M-shed on Princess Wharf.The huge ex-warehouse, which used to house the Industrial Museum, is now a free Museum of Bristol past and present (in fact several of the exhibits are left over from the Industrial Museum days). We've been there with Rosie before, with varying degrees of success - Rosie can become quite fixated on an object and will refuse to be torn away from it for ages. That's fine when the object in question is an old Anderson shelter that she can just walk into, but when it's one of the many keyboard/screen interactive activities around the museum it's a different question. They just aren't quite at Rosie height, meaning one of her devoted slaves... sorry, parents, has to hold her up, which gets tiring pretty quickly.

Much more entertaining for us was the dress up section, where visitors could try on police and fire fighter outfits. Rosie kept putting the helmets on back to front, and often ended up looking like an extra from Stars Wars. With only one minor tantrum (after we stopped her from scratching at a Beryl Cook original) we managed to extricate Rosie from keyboards, through the 'magic' doors and home for tea.
M-shed: highly recommended, especially if you have a toddler to exercise.

What am I learning, what am I teaching...? By Kate

When you make a cock up, ask yourself, "What did I learn from that?"

Somebody far wiser than I suggests this as a more constructive way to deal with own-goals than guilt-ridden self-flagellation. It makes a lot of sense. It's a way of accepting that we all make mistakes and those mistakes can actually be useful opportunities to grow as a human being.

As first time parents, we make a lot of mistakes. After all, it's a huge, new, intricate area of human relationships we're navigating. No one gets it right first time. Which is bad luck for Rosie. A friend of mine put it this way: "Your first child is the practice one."

It's just as well Rosie doesn't require us to be perfect. Good enough will do fine for her, luckily. Although I expect we'll come in for a bit of a hammering for certain things she reckons we did or didn't do when she hits her teenage years and early adulthood. That seems to be par for the course.

So we're learning all the time. And so is Rosie. How to use and understand her body, how to talk, how to socialise with other people, how she fits in with the world....and that's before she starts on things like reading, writing, arithmetic, sport, music etc. etc. The sobering thought is that as her parents, we are Rosie's Number One teachers. She learns the nuances of handling human relationships by observing and mimicking Theo and I primarily. There's nothing like that knowledge for putting your own behaviour in the spotlight.

Every day I find I'm asking myself, "What are we teaching Rosie in this situation?" For example, if Rosie refuses to touch the food we have given her and instead insists on something different, our acquiescence to that request would teach her that she doesn't need to make an effort with unfamiliar or less-favoured foods as she can rely on getting an alternative.

If Rosie throws a wobbler about something we regard as important (having her teeth brushed, for example) if we were to give up on what we were doing, we would be teaching Rosie that tantrums are a good tool for getting what she wants (or stopping something she doesn't). A recipe for more tantrums, in other words.

That doesn't mean we should ride roughshod over all Rosie's personal preferences. She might be tiny, but she's still a human being and deserves to have her opinion heard. So we try and offer her choices - okay, the choices are limited to outcomes we find acceptable, but at least she's being offered some toddler-sized autonomy. "Rosie climb in the buggy, or Mummy put you in the buggy?" is one we often have just before she settles into her pushchair for her lunchtime nap. (The answer is almost always, "Rosie do it!")

And one more piece of sage parenting advice I'm coming to fully appreciate: "Pick your battles." Some things just aren't worth a fight. Whether or not Rosie wears her slippers indoors really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. If she doesn't, her feet may be a bit colder than otherwise, but it's no big deal. On the other hand, if she doesn't allow us to help her clean her teeth, there's a very real risk of tooth decay, so that one is non-negotiable.

Navigating life with a feisty toddler is a huge learning experience, that's for sure. For all of us.

Rosie's talk - by Theo (chanelling Pat Hutchins)

Rosie the toddler went for a walk.

She walked through the "parque". Around the "agua". Over the "ball". Past the "doggle-oggle". Through the "door". Under the "bees" and got back in time to shout "dame!"

Rosie's speech is coming along rapidly, in both English and Spanish, from maybe only 10 words at the beginning of July to more than 50 now. She still expresses herself in single words, which are not always used correctly, as can be seen in this video from the morning we left Madrid.

"Dame" ("give me" in Spanish) gets used as a general expression of desire (e.g. "open", "take", "lift") rather than its more specific meaning. Meanwhile, pretty much anything with floppy ears and a tail is a "doggle-oggle" or a "oof-oof" (except for cats which are "miaow-miaows"). It's interesting which language she chooses - for example she says "agua" rather than "water" and "mas" rather than "more" but "please" rather than "por fa'" and "glasses" rather than "gafas". Some words could go either way - "yo-go" could just as easily be "yoghurt" as "yogur". Other words only get used in certain situations - for example, when pretending to answer the phone Rosie will say "si, si, si" but otherwise never comes out with the Spanish for "yes". There doesn't seem to be a pattern however, and so far she hasn't learned many equivalent words in both languages (except Mama/Mummy; Papa/Daddy and usefully, pi-pi/wee-wee and poo-poo/ka-ka). It's funny what words she picks up though - she says "cool" a lot, something she obviously gets from Kate and I, while earlier this evening she clearly articulated something that she definitely hadn't heard us say (ahem): "f*ck it!"

Heading back to Bristol - by Theo

The hardest part of travelling over 1500 miles in two days by boat and car with a 17 month old toddler? Keeping her entertained in the queue to board the ferry! We were among the last to board (meaning, as is often the case, we were almost first off and cruised through immigration - no strike delays for us!) so we had to go through the full repertoire of Rosie entertaining: taking her to see the dogs in the pet lane; showing her photos on the digital camera; letting her clamber about the seats; reading her books and so on.

I think nearly everyone within a 100 metre radius had heard her yelling "Dame!" by the time we were called forward. Typically she had just done a poo and we were in the middle of changing her....On board Rosie was a dream, charming everyone from the Captain down. It was a late sail - 9pm - so after a quick run around to try and tire her out, we all crashed in the cabin, Rosie sleeping through in the travel cot we'd booked, despite the strangeness of the surroundings. She still woke up early though.

We were very lucky with the crossing, it was very smooth and as a result I wasn't troubled with mal de mer the way I had been the previous year so could help Kate out with Rosie. Much fun was had, especially with the toy doggies in shop.

We were also very lucky with Rosie's naps - she's obligingly slept well for us on the drive up to Santander from Madrid, and then napped so well in her buggy in the cabin - 2 hours - we were forced to wake her up - we then had to wake her up again from her nap in the car on the way up to Bristol from Plymouth. Still, a rested if slightly wired Rosie is way better than a cranky one. She had a huge grin for Aunty Hermione, who came with Richard and a delicious veggie lasagne to help us move in to the house in Redfield we're renting from our friend Dave. It all worked out perfectly. Even the weather is being kind.

Swimming and so longs Part 2 - by Theo

Rosie is still on a two nap regime (of her own choosing) which means that heading anywhere is always a logistical challenge in order not to end up with an irate toddler. This theory was duly put into practice when Jon suggested spending Sunday in Cercedilla, a mountain town in the Sierra to the north of Madrid, where there are some swimming pools fed by mountain springs called Las Berceas. There are of course plenty of swimming pools in Madrid itself, but with temperatures due to hit 38 degrees in the city, the relatively cooler temperatures of mountains definitely appealed.

With this in mind I took Rosie out for a mega-playground session that morning in order to get her nice and worn out, with the hope she would sleep happily in the car. We then arranged to meet Jon by the metro stop - he lives near us, but was coming from his girlfriend's in Canal. He was slightly late as he had popped back to his flat to grab his swimming trunks. Sure enough, shortly afterwards, Rosie nodded off in the car and slept most of the way there getting about 45 minutes nap-time. Less than she usually has, but we figured it would even out with a slightly longer than normal nap on the way back.

Las Berceas is gorgeous. Two large pools with deep and shallow ends set among lush lawns under shady stands of pines trees surrounded by forested mountain slopes. Absolutely stunning. The approach wasn't the most pushchair friendly, but do-able, passing under the tree-top rope walks of the adventure park next door. We found a shady spot and set out our rug and Rosie's play tent. It was about this point that Jon realised he had somehow, despite making a detour to get them, forgotten his swimming trunks. Kate and I tried hard not to laugh too much. We soon solved the problem though, as I lent him my (non swimming) shorts to swim in. This meant I later had to walk back to the car and drive home in only my (rather skimpy and tight-fitting) boxers. Kate did take a photo, but I'll spare you.

The water, when we did get in, was extremely refreshing - just what was required. After our attempts to entice Rosie into the water the previous day we didn't even bother trying her in the pools - much too cold for her liking. She was quite happy though, chasing after balls that weren't hers, counting pine cones and later walking around the adjacent picnic site (occasional tannoy announcements reminded the swimmers that picnicking wasn't permitted on the lawn.)

Refreshed and fed, we headed off about 3pm to let Rosie have her second nap, though we were soon no longer refreshed as the car was like an oven and the air conditioning is badly in need of a recharge. Still, she quickly dropped off and stayed asleep even when we pulled in to Canal to drop Jon off. As he jumped out I noticed something under the passenger seat - his swimming trunks!

Swimming and so longs Part 1 - by Theo

The first of our three bathing and bidding farewell dates saw us gatecrashing a lunch party at Kirsty's down in Rivas. Kirsty had invited round some friends and their children from the Sticky Fingers playgroup, some of whom we knew, for a roast chicken lunch (hence, why we hadn't originally been invited). I was pretty impressed with Kirsty pulling this off seeing as she's 6 months pregnant, the mother of a toddler and her husband was away in Almeria! Kudos! So, with 5 babies and toddlers napping, and a newborn mewing in her mum's arms (Kate kindly took over so the mum could eat) we added ourselves to the merry chaos. Well we had to - we had to return her play ring that we'd borrowed, as we'd forgotten it last time we'd visited.

We forgot it this time too, so I spe... drove in a sensible fashion back home to get it while Rosie had her afternoon nap. Doh!Kate and I both enjoyed a swim in Kirsty's pool, though Rosie was not keen in either the main pool nor the paddling pool, preferring instead to attempt to build the world's largest ball collection (her current obsession) and hang around in the sitting room.

It was a lovely day and we're really going to miss Kirsty and Juanmi when we get back; it's a real shame we won't be around to greet their second child or see Emily Grace grow up, nor the general relaxed, laid-back attitude towards children that seems to prevail here in Spain.

Not that the hispanic love of children rubs off on everyone. As we lazed in the pool one of the other mothers present mused wistfully about how great it would be to have a swimming pool. "Well" I said, "most of the new build apartment blocks have a communal one and they aren't that pricey." "Oh god no!" replied the mum of two "then I'd have to share it with other people's children! Horrible!"

Sunday with the Lahoz-Frosts - by Theo

We had a lovely day out today at Kirsty, Juanmi and Emily's place in Rivas. It had been far too long since we last saw them, so we invited ourselves down - I cooked to try and compensate for the invasion!

Rosie and Emily seemed to get on fab; it was really the first time that Rosie has properly acknowledged her and responded to her. Rosie still wasn't sure of course - our daughter is nothing if not cautious - preferring to sit next to Emily and point but not-quite-touch her. However they both enjoyed doing a bit of wordless call and response at various points, particularly (and hilariously) over lunch. I think Kirsty was a bit miffed that Emily, 22 months and bilingual, wasn't showing off her English and Spanish vocab!