Dim Sum Mum - Tess' Little Pieces

the charm of the jay

when he grows up, jasper wants to be like The Jungle Book's Baloo the bear.

baloo gets to sing, play around, laugh and eat. that's pretty much jasper's guide to good living.

although he's our oldest triplet, jasper has a firm, unshakeable belief that he is the baby. and thus should be accorded privileges like being carried everywhere, not having to stand up in his crib when it is time to get out, and singing row row row your boat endless times in a, well, row.

if you understand jasper's belief that he is the baby, you understand jasper. he doesn't like to complicate life by thinking. that's someone else's, like a grownup's, job. he spends a great deal of time looking perplexed by life's odd ways.

you would imagine that jasper would very much desire to be spoon fed, but as a matter of fact, jasper enjoys feeding himself. largely because the size of mouthfuls shoved into his mouth (with straggly bits pushed in by fingers) his mother would not allow.

although he was the last of the triumverate to walk, jasper doesn't walk or run a lot. unless he wants to, like when a bowl of popcorn is brought into the room. he has this helpless face that makes people stoop over him, lift him and move toward the direction he needs to go. his wail is pathetic, and considering how growly his voice is, very high pitched.

physically, jasper is a winner. his body shape is very much like sebastian's, broad shoulders and stocky build. he is slimming down now that he can walk, but you know he is going to have considerable shoulders. jasper is the one child who has my mouth and my oval face shape. (carys' is my dad's, sela and sebastian have caldwell face shapes.) jasper can look like mcharles at times (the nose), but he also has a look of my brother about him. jasper's hair is a blondey-ginger. his calling card is probably his big blue eyes. long ginger lashes surround the eyes, and jasper is not adverse to giving you slow flirtatious looks out of the corner of his eyes, combined with a half smile. he likes people, and he likes people helping him.

while jasper is very easygoing, he is also very quick to tears when life doesn't go his way. being forced to walk is a prime example of life's cruel backstabbing measures that reduce the jay to a mass of quivering sobs.

he is musical and amongst the helpers jasper and sela tie for the favoured baby award. sela because she talks and sings, jasper because he smiles and dances. they sound like a reduced jackson five, don't they? he's adoring of sebastian, and mummy. he's not a mummy's boy, per se, because jasper has realised that loyalities and labels like mummy's boy limit his options as to who might carry him around. he's anyone's really. he likes younger kids and unlilke his sisters has no desire to play with older ones.

i gave quite a detailed description of carys' personality, but i cannot do the same for the jay. i'm sure there are still waters running deep, but at this stage of the game, he is no shakespearean figure. he is quite simply, and lovably, jasper. with a grin, and a game for everyone. he is absolutely charming.

he's not planning on running the universe,(or a marathon) unless you can do it sitting down, while eating. but he will certainly cheer on the person who does.

carys deeply cares

it surprises people when they realise that carys is the shortest member of our household. her long limbs and small frame lend her that illusion of height, as does her implacable will.

she is stubborn. and she is sly. while silence from jasper or sela means they are absorbed in something, unless i can see carys, her silence is disturbing, because it means she is up to no good. sela gives commentary as she climbs, while carys goes about her business quietly. remember she used to pull books of the bookshelves? she's given that up. nowadays she pulls wine bottles off racks, drags out a pair of trousers, a sweater shoes for her mother to wear (she does get points because the clothes often match well), lines out of knitting. she is sly. and oh my, she is smart.

she doesn't say much, but she concentrates. and fixes her laser beam glare on you. unblinkingly. with the expression never changing. she absorbs. she listens. she learns. scarily. i think carys will be the first of my kids to say a swear word.

she's not adventurous, but when her mind is set on something, she is unstoppable. she is self-protective. she reveals little about herself, but knows exactly what sets others off.

she used to have tantrums in the playground and would emerge from them all grotty. those days have passed. these days if her wishes are not granted, she withdraws into herself. stores up the injustice, and carries on. revenge is best served cold, is it not?

her laughter is an explosion. completely unexpected. she gives polite smiles, or else her mouth opens and his hoarse little voice erupts into a belly laugh. she refuses to sit quietly in the bathtub, she smacks the water and screams when drops cover her face. she screams when we rinse what we optimistically call her "hair".

children who had the vent. for substantial periods of time often have hoarse voices. given carys' fey appearance, her demi moore voice is a massive contrast. she doesn't talk a great deal, her clear vocabulary consists of 15 words. but suddenly a mood overtakes her and she gabbles. she will give a one minute monolgue. often she will jump around at the same time. and then the full moon in her mind's eye receedes, and she is done, and subsides again. i don't know if she wants to reveal as much of herself and her passion as she does at those times, whether she can control it.

she is the child who most loves animals. possibly it is because she relates to them. i am a little untamed too.

although she has given us many stories for laughter, i don't write about carys in the joking way i write about her siblings for the simple reason that she is not meant to be taken lightly. she is an intense personality. she is a velvety purple, changing shades as the material is moved back and forth, and as light catches different nuances.

carys is not an easy child. she is impassive, reserved and often i do not know what she is thinking. then there are the other times. when she belts across the room to me, when i am holding her and for no other reason then the fact we are together she leans to me and explodes into laughter, grasping my shoulders tightly, celebrating all she has earned and been given.

carys has fought for life. she doesn't have memories of the fight, but there is a pulse, a place in her that remembers. i watch her running, and she is exultant. intense. she wants this life.

my candle burns at both ends it will not last the night

but oh my friends and ah my foes

it gives such lovely light

and she does.

she fascinates me.

i love my nosy parker

sela cracks me up. in the crack goes my heart sense of the word and in laughter.

i had made the huge sweeping assumption that it was only tough on the adults that all four children are racing around the place in diverging directions. well forgive me, because the walking apparently has created a huge challenge for sela, our diva in training. she has such a tough time keeping tabs on everyone this way.

i watch her crane her neck to see who is doing what. when i call sebastian for dinner, her head twists around in a way that would get an exorcist running and she pipes after me in a high worried voice, "sehhh-beeee! sehhh-beee!" and then with those defined eyebrows pulled slightly down, she scans around until her laser beam eyes focus on him. and then she relaxes.

some would call her extroverted, i would call her nosy. she needs to know what the others are doing and what they're playing with. or what they're eating. oy.

and there is no chance that this child will ever be bilingual...she doesn't even grasp english. she has been screeching the word "share!" for a good five months now. but oh, what's this...her definition of the word share is :

share (v): a derivative of the name "sela". originally a noun, meaning "property of sela". in contemporary english means, "give to sela".

the little madam will walk over to a friend, sibling or stranger, grab the item she is coveting, say, "share" and walk away. she is so definite.

and she is climbing everywhere. on top of the dining room table, courtesy of the chair. on top of the sofa, even. i suspect she is honing her climbing not for exercise or because the heights are there, but because she has realised the vantage point is superior and she can efficiently keep track of events from lofty heights.

yet this miss madam is also the girl i find climbing into her crib when she feels it is bedtime and never complains once in bed. this is also the girl, who if she is sucking her thumb outside of the aforementioned crib, will stop if i say, "sela" and motion with my thumb. and the diva in training is also the child who will dissolve into tears if i speak in "too strict" a voice (which as you can imagine i do on a semi regular basis). and she is the most helpful child when it comes to clearing up. (i think this is because she likes the praise, but possibly i am doing her an injustice.)

she dances and sings, she fights for sole proprietorship of my lap and gives me sticky kisses. at night when i creep into the nursery to check on my four, she opens an eye, and holds on to my finger for a moment, giving me a sweet blurry smile. she is demanding, yet easy to please. there's nothing complicated about sela. quite simply, she loves, and she loves having what she loves all to herself.