Thinking Allowed: Tova turns two in Tasmania

Tova is unashamed of her milk addiction. The last thing she says before going to bed, and the first thing she says before waking up, is "Breast! Breast! Breast!" I wish I could say we had a better cue word for the act of breastfeeding…a few come to mind, such as Rainbow! I love you! Gumtcha! But alas we are stuck with waking up each morning not with a cock-a-doodle-doo, but with an urgent "Breast! Breast! Breast!"

Like a rooster, she has her own internal alarm clock which ensures she is the first up each morning. Knowing this, we set the alarm clock for bright and early yesterday morning so we could uphold our Norwegian requirement of waking up the birthday girl with song and breakfast. Ironically, after getting ourselves all ready, and waking up the other children, we all sat around sleeping Tova, prodding, poking and cooing at 8 am to no avail. Tova would not wake up. Sophia seized the opportunity to do things Tova would never let her do if she were awake, i.e. stroking various parts of her face and assessing them for texture. But this is Tova. Entirely adorable, inappropriate and unpredictable in her own way.

Tova turned two much like most kids her age - with lots of joyous exclamations interspersed with tantrums. And so we raise two thumbs to Tova, who is now doubly as cute, doubly as talkative, and double the trouble she was last year. She's a girl who knows her own mind. She likes to say "Mamma, me peepee toilet, chipchipchips!" but adamantly refuses to go on the toilet. She knows Sophia's name yet insists on calling her Bazha. She was happy to blow out her two (unlit) candles but only had a couple bites of icing. She still has less than a dozen teeth but they're big and chompy.

She's like a puppy and a comedian all at once. She coaches Sophia on the toilet, peering into the toilet and yelling "Coming!" She already has pronounced tastes in music, listening to Tula Tula on repeat and demanding that we sing ABC and Amandus Dokkeman a dozen times a day. Her favourite places include the climbing gym, the tow truck, the park and the swimming pool. She loves nature, especially stones and sticks.

Australians, meanwhile, love Tasmania. It's generally claimed to be one of the more beautiful parts of the country. Maybe people love it because it's different.

And now we know firsthand that it is beautiful. Its beaches are golden, its mountains are high (the highest in the country) and its land is fertile and abounds with fruit, alcohol and dairy of various sorts. It reminds us a bit of our travels in New Zealand, and this is probably at the crux of what is so appealing about it - Tasmania is very different than mainland Australia. It lacks that dry, deserty feel and is much less spread out; in a day, you can sit on a bone-white beach, explore seaside caves, then zip up to a mountainside trail. We've learned in our time in Tasmania that we really don't think much of old cars breaking down while you're on vacation in Tasmania. But we like Tasmania because:

+ The oceans have that emerald green shimmeriness where you can see your own limbs in the water

+ Much of the island is rural and wilderness. The coastline is jagged and spangled with caves, gorges, blowholes and grottoes.

+ It's just the perfect size for an island - you can get out to the get depths of the wilderness, but if you get a flat tire it's just an hour or two to help.

+ And when you get a flat tire, three men will pull up in pick-up trucks and roll up their sleeves

+ Beautiful beaches, gorgeous mountains, fertile farmland - really what more do you need?