By Mel Cooke, Freelance Writer
DEAR DIARY,
YOU DON'T know that you are getting older until your children's birthdays come around. Rinsi will be one year old in less then a week and I wonder, where the time has gone. I don't feel any older, I don't look any older (stop snickering, Diary) but Asmahani-Aza Erin McLean Cooke is one year old, so 12 months must have passed.
It must have been a good 12 months for her, Diary, 'cause that grin of hers sure does make her look happy. She is also the proud owner of four chompers two on top and two below which she uses to full effect. Heck, I came home a couple days ago to find her brandishing a chicken leg bone or, rather, parts thereof, triumphantly. How parts of it got on top of her head, I don't have a clue. Let's just say she was crowned with a piece of fowl.
Diary, I saw Rinsi with clips in her hair for the first time and I had to laugh. This kiddo's red (yup, red like her Mommy's used to be) hair is barely long enough to comb, but there she is with some Teddy Bear clips barely hanging on.
She cute y'see.
She has this space between her top teeth which I just cannot identify the root of. More cuteness, though. Of course, she is stepping strong these days. Heck, she even tries to "boing" on the bed like her sister Mansie, but those leetle knees barely crack. They get on fine, though Mansi takes her big sister (at two years old) role most seriously. She doesn't hesitate to lift yes, lift Rinsi out of harm's way, or lead (more like drag) her away when she feels the situation is warranted.
Diary, she doesn't feel the need to put a stop to Rinsi's cassette destroying ways, though. They are both fascinated by CDs and cassettes, but especially the latter. They have found this fascinating dark brown thing that, no matter how much of it you pull out there is much more to come. Dammit pickney, that's my Fredlocks album with Black Starliner that I spent months looking for!
I swear, I am adding up all the damage they do to take it back from their allowances, or maybe I'll just rip up some stuff of theirs when they get older. Heh heh.
DADDY SOLOMON
I need some pointers in this Daddy sharing thing, though. I got them two 'Beach Bum' outfits and thought that was that. Diary, was I wrong. One of them, Mansi's, had this little bag. And it was pure war. Rinsi started hollering and grabbing, Mansi started hollering and holding it out of her reach. So I said, "Mani, let Rinni hold it for a minute or two," and took it from her. Pandemonium to rockstone! So I came up with a solution. I gave one the left handle and the other the right and they walked around hooked to the bag for the couple minutes it took for them to forget all about the novelty of it.
I know, I know, just call me Solomon Mel. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
When you come home, they both participate in the welcome run and dance. Mani's is faster, so by the time she is making her third circle at high speed and chanting "Mommy, Mommy", Rinsi is just coming down the low step to the front door, grinning over her shoulder. She is coming, though.
Mani is soaking up so much stuff it is scary. She is like an old-time high-capacity sponge. A couple days ago we were all on the verandah when she came around to us, her eyes flashing in triumph and her voice bursting with pride: "House, Mommy! Mani house!" When we investigated, she had used some wooden cut-outs to make a double-walled, four-sided structure, complete with some smaller ones inside for people. After she had called everybody to see her architectural wonder, she promptly pulled down one set of walls, arranged another structure, stood between them, threw out her hands and declared: "Two house!"
Houses, baby, houses.
Maybe that is why she is clamouring to go to school. Or maybe she wants to go to school with her mommy. Whatever it is, she declares "Mani want to go school". Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.
TV ADDICTION SETTING IN
She is watching too much TV, though, Diary. She was on the bed with her Teddy, which has a red scarf around its neck (you know, the cape thing). She promptly jumped off the bed, ye ole Teddy in tow well airborne, and shouted "Mani is a superhero, Mommy, Mani is a superhero!"
Blasted Power Puff girls.
I also think of her as my personal potential little axe murderer. She loves to take my tam-looking headgear, pull it right down over her face and run around the place growling (well, as deep as a two-year-old can growl).
And Diary, she is not averse to complimenting us dumb adults when we meet her exacting standards. Like when she demanded that C write "Mommy Cooke", just like how she is always writing "Amani Cooke" (it is a series of circles, but let's not mark her too hard, okay?). When C complies she says, "Good job, Mommy, good job."
Diary, the greatest thing is when we are all together on the bed and playing around. Mansi "boinging", Rinsi standing and falling as Mansi boings and tickles and hugs all around.
And Diary, Mani has learnt an important lesson as well. Last night she came to C and I on the bed, flung her arms around both of us, kissed us both in turn (me first, heh heh), got up, boinged and sang a family song that she alone knows the words and melody of.
Yup, she has learnt that affection is not competition.
Good thing, Diary.
