Happy birthday to Charlie Bear

My gorgeous little Charlie turned two on the weekend!

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I cannot believe that two years have passed since he was born. It has absolutely flown by. Although we have had some long, long days. And nights. And weeks. And months…

Charlie is one of the most frustrating children you could ever meet. He is incredibly obstinate, pig-headed, cranky, stubborn, determined, and temperamental. But he is also, in equal parts, incredibly loving, sweet, fearless, energetic, funny, intelligent, happy and full of joy. At two, his speech is limited to Mum, Dad, cheese and bye. Normally this would be a cause for concern, but his receptive language is excellent, and he is such a stubborn soul, we know that no amount of intervention will make a difference, and he will speak when he damn well feels like it, thanks all the same, Mummy.

I don’t think it’s normal to find your child’s tantrums charming, but Charlie is truly hilarious and absolutely adorable, even while steadfastly refusing to be buckled into his carseat, or trying to climb back into his cot if he feels he was awoken too early from his nap, or trying to retrieve the iPad from him after I feel he has had sufficient screen time for that day. I sometimes don’t know whether to laugh or cry when he has a “sad”. We were at an indoor play centre a few months ago, and he was called a “baby” by some older boys. His little lip went out, and he stomped off across the room, his head down, and his eyes filling with tears, until he stood with his head against the wall. I went over and picked him up, trying not to laugh at our stupidly adorable he was, and also trying not to cry at his emotional depth, that at twenty months old, he understood that the boys were being mean to him. He did recover after a quick cuddle with Mummy and ejoyed the rest of his play…

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We had another little health scare with Charlie last weekend, with his first asthma incident. Charlie was hospitalised for three days at eight weeks old with suspected meningococcal (he didn’t have it, he just had a non-blanching rash that the hospital staff took very seriously), and has had a few cuts that have required emergency room visits over the past two years, so we are no strangers to the hospital at this point. He had a slight runny nose on the Saturday, but by Sunday night, he had a cough and was starting to wheeze. By Sunday morning, he was a wheezing, crying, vomiting mess. I took him to the local medical centre, who provided their usual level of incompetence and sent us home with instructions to go see our usual GP in a few days. Within an hour, we took him to the emergency room. He, of course, vomited all down the front of me as we got out the car, and started to perk up, as children do, as you try and convince a triage nurse that he really is sick. despite the fact he was jumping from chair to chair in the waiting room. Thankfully, they could see how much he was struggling to breathe, and we were taken straight through so he could be given some ventolin and steroids. We had to stay for about six hours after that for the next doses of ventolin, and to make sure it was all working. The ventolin worked a dream, and in true Charlie fashion, he spent a large portion of that six hours standing on the hospital bed and jumping off into our arms, or wanting to run around the pediatric emergency room exploring, and jumping on everything. I’m sure the other parents in there, with their little ones sadly tucked up in their hospital beds, looking on worriedly, must have thought we were insane, time-wasting parents, having a seemingly healthy child at the hospital. I wanted to put a sign on Charlie, “I really am sick, I’m just hepped up on steroids and ventolin right now”.

So that’s my Charlie, and here’s a little birthday video I made, just for fun. It’s reasonably poor, as I just put it together in the iMovie app on the phone, using whatever was accessible on my phone… Regardless, happy birthday to my darling, nutty Professor X.

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