jmgoyder

I used to jokingly call Anthony ‘the missing link’ (as in the scientic term for something that is somewhere between an ape and a human), and Ming, ‘the alien’ because when he was born he so resembled ET (remember that movie?) This picture shows you why….

It was January, one of the hottest months of the year in Australia, when we brought our little alien home from hospital. As neither of us had ever had a baby before, I remember Anthony driving us all home at a snail’s pace, terrified that every bump in the road would somehow injure the baby in the back of the car in an oversized baby seat. I sat in the back next to Ming, watching him sleep and beside myself with excitement that he would soon be home with us.

Those next few days were bliss. Ming would mostly sleep and Anthony and I would spend hours just looking at him in his bassinet. As soon as Anthony came inside from milking the cows he would go straight to Ming and gaze at him. We were both in awe of him and the delight was almost overwhelming. Our smiles stretched our faces in ways they’d never been stretched before.

We were ridiculously proud and couldn’t believe it when others didn’t gasp in wonder when they saw Ming. When I finally got brave enough to take him grocery shopping with me, I was astounded when we were not surrounded by crowds of admiring people, and relieved when grannies came up and stroked his bald head, smiling at my permanent grin.

The ecstacy of those first few weeks of Ming’s life was so potent that I can still smell it now – the flowers in the garden, the pooey nappies, the mown grass, the perspiration under Anthony’s arms, steak cooking on the barbecue, the milky burps, the softness of that bald little head, the cowshit scent, wafting into the house from the dairy, the frangipannish sunlight streaming into every room, the little dachschunds as I held them above Ming’s bassinet so they could have a look, and Inna’s 4711 perfume that I found in a drawer during that first week.

Perfection.

Ming was nearly 12 months old when he experienced his first Christmas. Anthony and I had bought him a big toy truck and one of those small, plastic ride-on cars. Both our families had followed the pillow-case tradition so, after Ming was asleep, I carefully wrapped the two big presents, then, with some difficulty, stuffed them into a pillowcase and put this at the end of his cot.

Then, underneath the Christmas tree, Anthony and I put our presents to each other and lots of little things for Ming. The final touch was to fill a red stocking with chocolates for Ming and sticky-tape it to the mantle-piece, near the tree.

I was so excited that I couldn’t fall asleep until around 2am, then I woke up at 4am, still excited! So, by the time Ming and Anthony woke up, after 8am, I was almost delirious with anticipation and exhaustion. I couldn’t wait for Ming to see the pillow-case but, when he finally did get up, he didn’t even notice it – and I had to point it out to him.

We all clambered onto the big bed and emptied the pillow-case out. Ming looked at the two enormous wrapped presents and then gave us his wise-owl look, as if to say, What the hell is going on?

“Father Christmas has left you two presents, Ming,” I said, excitedly but he still didn’t respond. He just sucked on his dummy and watched us grin at him, probably thinking we’d gone slightly mad. I suppose I’d expected him to just magically absorb the Christmas presents thing and, I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed by his lack of spirit. Even when I showed him a picture of Santa with a big sack of gifts on his back, he remained impassive.

“Open one of them for him,” Anthony whispered, so I began to gently tear the wrapping paper off the toy truck to expose one of its wheels.

Well that was the only trigger needed. As soon as Ming saw that wheel, he spat his dummy out and his bewildered expression transformed instantaneously into an enormous grin. “TWUCK!” he repeated over and over, tearing at the wrapping paper ecstatically. Even if I’d been able to anticipate that moment and had a camera ready it would have been impossible to capture Ming’s glee when the truck was finally exposed in all its glory.

Once Ming had opened that first present, he very quickly cottoned onto the idea and went crazy for more and his continued delight was contagious.

We most certainly set a precedent that first Christmas. Its magic permeated Ming’s psyche so effectively that when, the following year, I once again woke up at 4am, it wasn’t my excitement, it was Ming’s that woke me. He was standing next to the bed, patting my cheek with one hand and holding a very full pillowcase with his other hand.  His little face seemed to glow in the dim light of dawn.

“Mummy,” he whispered seriously, “Fava Quistmust happinded again!”