Ravings from the Lindenwood Madhouse

Back to school, and afternoon scheduling craziness!

2012-02-07T11:04:00.000+11:00

The big girls went back to school last week. It was a relief to have fewer children at home, especially since the house was a chaotic mess, with our renovations having started two weeks previous (two weeks which we spent staying with my dad in B_________).

A couple of big first occurred last week, also. On Tuesday, the boys headed off for their first day of preschool. Where did those 3 years disappear to??? I still had Z at home, so we left the boys at preschool and headed off for a girly shopping day. The boys did not bat an eyelid, and even when I returned to pick them up at 3.30pm, they waved happily, then continued what they were doing. Way too independent!

Wednesday was Z's first day of school. She happily headed off with her big sister G, and hasn't looked back. She didn't even miss a beat when I had to arrange for someone else to pick her up on the second day - all part of the fun of being at school apparently!

And here we are nearly a week later, and it's my first Tuesday without ANY children. What on earth will I do? Well, I have to go and look at guttering. And try and choose an external door for the new laundry. And I was going to squeeze in a Costco trip, but that might have to wait till another day (with the boys).

As for after-school activities, they started this week. A total of six dance classes between us all on Mondays, three for A and one for G today, and one for Z tomorrow. Still, it leaves us Thursdays and Fridays free at this stage, although we'll lose our Friday once hockey starts in second term! These are the things we didn't think about when we planned our larger-than-normal family. Scheduling five is going to be a disaster.

And a little photo blog entry

2012-01-11T12:44:00.000+11:00

The boys on their 3rd birthday:

All the gang on G's 7th birthday:

The girls on Christmas Day:

The maddest of the Lindenwood Madhouse:

The gang waiting at the airport for our flight to Fiji:

And it's 2012

2012-01-11T12:25:00.000+11:00

The years are just flying by. Which, in those rare moments I stop to think about it, makes me a little more aware of my own mortality that I want to be. Thank goodness I have 5 children to keep those moments to a minimum!

Things are looking hectic already and it's only the second week of January. As of Monday, we're starting renovations to the back half of the house. Reasonably major renovations, involving the moving of the kitchen and laundry, the creation of a walk-in pantry in what used to be our formal dining room, and a whole lot of levelling out of sloping driveway to create an outdoor entertaining area.

Of course, this is the work that was supposed to be done in September/October last year. It was due to start on September 5. Then about the middle of August, the stock market "shat itself" as the Madhouse's resident stock market expert would say, and said expert called the builder and said, "We're putting it on hold." (We think the builder was secretly pleased with this decision, as we doubt things were ready to go ahead at that point.) The downside of this was that our perfectly timed renovations coincided with our friends in the next street being away in Europe for 8 weeks, and we were going to move into their house for the duration, meaning we would only have been in our [s]construction zone[/s] house for a few weeks at the end of the process.

The decision to postpone was a good one. We returned home from a week in Fiji on September 10, J went to work on Monday morning September 12, and came home 2 hours later, jobless. After a fraught 2.5 months of searching, he started a new job in the first week of December, and it appears to be going very well.

Understandably, our friends are not planning another 8 weeks in Europe. So this time we'll be living in the construction zone. Being school holidays, I have the chance to take the gang of 5 and the 3 dogs to my dad's for the last 2 weeks of the holidays, but school goes back on January 30, so we need to be back by then. We're in the process this week of emptying cupboards, moving their contents into various rooms which are not being touched by the renovations, and then packing up furniture to move it to a storage facility for a few months. Not the way I'd choose to spend the school holidays, but I keep reminding myself of the fantastic end result of all this chaos.

We are two January birthdays down, with two to go. Zara's been the most difficult to deal with, as she doesn't really get the reason why she has to wait till the end of the month for her birthday, and watch her sister and brothers get presents before her. And I still need to shop for her presents - that'll have to wait till we're at my dad's and I can get away from her for a day!!!

The other thing about 2012? Turning 40. I remember when I was about 30, J dared me to have my hair cut when I was 40 like Zoe Wanamaker in "My Family". Of course, being a long way from 40, I accepted the dare. Now, that's just a short 2 months away! I am going to go ahead with it, of course, because you can't accept a dare and then chicken out. But I stupidly promised A she could have a pink streak in her hair at the same time, and she has not forgotten. That will be an experience!

As our house will be a construction zone at the time of my birthday, we have decided to put celebrations off until later. In fact, my sisters and I have decided that we'd like to splurge on New Year's Eve on Fort Denison, so that will probably be my "present". I have no problem waiting 9 months for it!

The boys are starting preschool soon. They were due to start next Tuesday, but we'll be away for 2 weeks, so they're not starting till the end of January. And Z is starting school! On Wednesday February 1 I shall have 3 schoolgirls. Which of course means that, as of that week, I will have one day a week to myself. Ah, I have a list a mile long of Things I Shall Accomplish When I'm Child-Free.

OMG, it's August already!

2011-08-02T14:37:00.000+10:00

Been neglectful of this blog lately. Lots of FB status updates, but I rarely come here.

Bullet point list of events in our house:

D signed off from speech therapy - he is talking, pretty well. Still can't say S or F (he uses D for these sounds), so we get interesting sentences like "Aye mine dot" which apparently means "Hide my socks". But my ability to speak fluent D is improving, or I just ask L, as he already speaks fluent D as well as English!
A has been asked to perform a tap solo for an eisteddfod later in the year. I saw the start of her routine last night when I picked her up - it makes me all teary to see my little girl tapping away like a pro.
Z continues to be an airhead. Sad but true. J even said last night, "We'll have to consider private school for Z, there's no way she'll get into a selective high school." Well, she is only 4. Perhaps she will knuckle down and concentrate next year! There's a while to go before high school!!!
We are starting our renovations in early September. Very exciting. Saw the Blum showroom yesterday, to work out what we're going to do with our corner cabinets. Got some tile samples in the mail today so we can decide on a mosaic pattern for the kitchen. Rangehood is sitting it a box in the (now-empty) dining room. We have started emptying the laundry cupboards, and the garage; still a lot of emptying to go, though. (Rather a daunting task - getting a huge living area, kitchen, garage, laundry and dining room's worth of "stuff" into the rest of the house!)

Note to self: be more diligent in updating the blog. Just for my own sake, I like to go back and read what life was like at various times. Makes it seem like big deals weren't really all that big when looked at with the retrospectoscope.

Really, why would you bother? A rumination on the folly of choosing veterinary science as a career

2011-04-27T16:55:00.000+10:00

Nineteen years ago, I was working a secretarial job, which I loved, but which was not where I saw myself in the long term. It was time to start thinking about university.

After probably not much deliberation, I decided I would apply to do an Arts degree, and study languages. I had studied French for six years at school, but realised how little I actually knew, and I wanted to be able to survive in a second language! I told my boss my intentions. He was disappointed that I would be leaving, but understood that, when you are in the top 3% of your state in your final exams, a secretarial career is probably not what you envisaged!

Not long after this, he called me into his office. He had, he said, been discussing my situation with the other directors. Would I consider studying a computer programming degree part-time (that was what our company did), while keeping my job, and then working as a programmer with the company when I graduated? No thanks, I replied blythely. After two attempts at finding my calling (a very short-lived attempt at a music teaching degree, and a longer-lived but ultimately doomed attempt at law), I felt I needed to go with my heart. While I enjoyed the concepts of programming (I had been taught a very little during my time at the company, as the directors thought I needed a challenge), it didn't sit right as an idea.

In the middle of these deliberations, my grandfather died. My family travelled to Melbourne for his funeral. While there, I pulled a copy of James Herriot's "Dog Stories" off the bookshelf at my aunt's house. There I discovered that the famous vet had actually studied English, history and languages for his final school exams, but loved walking his dog on the moors so much that veterinary science sounded like a good career move.

I thought about this. I might have received a fairly good HSC mark, but none of those marks were in a science discipline (unless you count the maths). I studied English, Maths, French and Music. Not very veterinary. But I loved my dog - actually, I loved most dogs - so maybe I should think about veterinary science myself.

Which I did. Long story short - I got in, did a bridging course in physics and chemistry (good idea, by the way - a whole HSC course condensed into 3 weeks!), and graduated six years later with a BVSc (Hons I) (as well as a BSC(Vet)(Hons) that I got for taking a bludgy year doing a clinical research project before my final year).

Of course, I should have heard the death knell sound during the first hour of orientation, when the Dean of First Years pronounced, "I hope you're all here because you like people, and not because you like animals." If that wasn't a big hint, I don't know what would have convinced me to get out while I still could!!!

Anyway, as it turned out, he was right - it's a people job, and, not being a people person, it really didn't work out for me. Of course, I could have stuck it out had I been well-compensated, but the pay is notoriously abyssmal (within the profession - everyone outside it thinks we must be rolling in dosh). And then there were the hours. Awful, awful hours. And still I stuck it out (for want of a better option - I had enquired about secretarial positions with an agency, to be told I would have to start again as a junior, having "wasted" 6 years out of the industry).

Eventually I left the industry, as a friend of J's offered me a secretarial job right after I'd lost my last veterinary position (last in, first out, apparently, in a company who needed to tighten the belt, although knowing they straight away employed another vet was a bit of a hint that they just didn't like me).

Then I had children, so jobs moved out of my spectrum of consideration completely.

But of course, I have friends who are vets. So I know a little of how things are going in the industry, which is, things are not much better than they were, and in fact the salaries are going down again because there are too many new graduates. (Just how far a shit salary can go down is a mystery. As it was, a friend was turned down for a loan on a $350,000 property several years ago, because she would never be able to pay it off on a vet's salary. $350,000 wouldn't buy you a shoebox in t'middle o' road in Sydney.)

And today, I heard something else. It's a well known fact among veterinary students (unfortunately learnt AFTER they've committed to the degree) and the industry in general, that only about 50% of graduates will still be working as vets after 5 years, and after 10 years it drops to some appallingly low figure. That is, people tend to hate the job and leave.

Quite a few go on to study medicine (a lot of vet students become such by default, as it is the next highest entrance score on the list, and they figure it's a profession, right? they'll get paid accordingly, right?).

Many medicine degrees in Australia are now graduate entry degrees. Surely they'd love vets as students? All that cross-over in medical knowledge? Apparently not. Apparently, GPAs are calculated purely on your average results for your degree, regardless of the difficulty of the subjects.

As a vet student, you are pretty darned pleased to get a credit average (that would most likely still get you first class honours), and a distinction average is reserved for the top students. The subjects are tough.

As a science student, you can apparently, with a little bit of effort, get a high distinction average. Of course, you can choose the easiest subjects and blitz them. No such choice in a vet degree - you study set subjects.

So the science student has the best GPA, and the poor vet student has a crap GPA because of their comparatively "poor" results. This makes me angry. Angry because, for a start, people are suckered into doing vet degrees thinking a profession is noble and reasonably well-paid with opportunities. So not only do they waste 5 years of their life on a degree before they are disabused of this notion, but then they're at a decided disadvantage when they decide they want to study something that fulfils those criteria! How on earth is that fair?!

I always leave a catch-up with my vet school friends in a foul mood, angry at the world, bitter at having been one of the suckers. People ask me if I'll go back to it when the kids are all at school. I would rather poke red hot needles into my eyeballs. I can think of plenty of lower-stress jobs that would earn me the same pitiful money.

And of course, what makes me even more bitter is that, had I accepted my boss's offer all those years ago, I would have been there at the start of the IT boom, reaping the benefits before it became the trendy thing to do. How stupid was THAT decision???!!!

One of those weeks

2011-04-01T17:31:00.001+11:00

So I finally got to experience what it must be like to have one of "those" children, except mine were not really that bad, and still the judgement was forthcoming. (Actually, to be honest, maybe I was imagining the judgement, nobody actually said anything.)

I took the boys and Z to a nearby shopping centre on Tuesday. An unavoidable trip brought about by A's sudden need for new ballet shoes. Since I also needed a few groceries, I thought I'd do that as well, and use the double stroller as my grocery-carting device, while making the boys walk.

We escaped from our first port of call unscathed (the ballet shop), and even managed Medicare without too much eyerolling from strangers, but it all started in the MBF office when I missed my ticket being called. Funnily enough, I noticed every other bloody ticket being called, but missed mine. It was only due to the nice woman who, as she left the counter, said "I think you were before me, but you didn't notice your ticket being called" that I actually got a look-in. A look-in that amounted to some eye-rolling from the MBF lady, telling me I was "busy with the children" (a euphemism for "keeping your ridiculously badly behaved children from killing our other customers"). I should point out that all they were doing was climbing on the sofa of which I was the sole occupant, and then climbing off it again and lying on the floor, not in anyone's way, in fact with me saying to them if they were too close to where people were walking, "Move over here out of the way." Not sure how much more I was expected to do, given that no person or property was in any way being defiled.

Her final parting shot after serving me in silence was to tell D off for picking his nose and eating it. I left with my tail between my legs.

On the way to Lowes, we spotted a Barney ride. I had promised the kids a ride when we were finished, but L had missed the "when we're finished" bit and the minute I turned into Lowes, he started howling. I managed to grab what I needed and get out of there as quickly as I could (in all fairness, he had stopped howling, but it's an ongoing problem - every shop we enter, a tantrum ensues because we are getting further away from a ride!). We headed back to the ride.

On the ride were twin boys, being watched by their grandmother. I had noticed them on it when we'd gone past before. They weren't actually riding it, just playing on it. I parked the stroller nearby and fished in my purse for $2. After a bit, as the grandmother didn't seem to have gotten the subtle message of a mother and three children standing next to a ride with money in hand, I said to my boys, "It's okay, it'll be our turn soon, we just have to wait until the other boys are finished."

Grandmother looks at me and pretends she's just noticed me. "Oh, do you want to use the ride?"

Me: (thinking "Well, duh!") Yes, if you don't mind. I'm sorry, I'd let the boys stay on too, but I need all 3 seats."

Grandmother: Oh, okay, I'll have to find another one then.

Me: (thinking "Well, duh!") Sorry.

Grandmother: I don't have any coins on me.

Me: (silence)

Grandmother: (as she takes the boys down) Would you mind waiting till we're out of earshot, otherwise the boys will be upset.

Me: (thinking "Oh, the sense of entitlement") Sure, no problem. If you're looking for another ride, there's a Wiggles ride just over there (pointing).

I did wait. While she walked in the opposite direction, away from the proffered alternative ride. But sheesh, honestly, I had to wait so she didn't have to explain anything to her grandsons??? Whatever happened to "Grandma has no coins today, so we can't ride it today - maybe we'll go and look at the Thomas trains in Myer!" Or, if you want to be brutal, "No, not today, sorry!"

I just felt like a baddie after that shopping trip. I didn't really do anything wrong, the kids didn't really do anything wrong, they just weren't their normal perfect selves, and there were three of them all walking.

Of course, in the end, the ballet shoes were the wrong size, and I had to go back on Thursday and exchange them. Only two children this time, Z was at preschool.

First disaster was that I put my coffee and handbag in the stroller so I could help the boys on the travelator. Of course, the handbag fell off and the coffee fell over while I was trying to get the boys off, so I had a stroller full of coffee, and nothing to mop it up with. (Although, in desperation, I did find an old napkin and a pair of socks in my handbag, which worked well.) I was taking the boys to the playground to appease them after being dragged to the dance shop twice in one week.

While I mopped up the stroller, they played. Then I stood at the edge of the playground and started drinking what was left of my coffee. Then my phone rang. I was standing there, like one of those mothers, chatting on my phone and drinking my latte, when I hear one of the boys crying and see that another mother is holding L. He had fallen "down the stairs" (3 steps up to a little toddler slide). I still had my coffee in my hand as I went over, but when I said "Sorry, I can't hold him, can you put him down?" I realised that this stranger did not know I had had shoulder surgery only 2 months ago, and was forbidden from lifting anything heavier than 2kg, so to her it looked like I couldn't be fucked putting down my coffee to cuddle my son. Parenting fail #1.

Next thing it's D crying over something. I'd finished my coffee by then, but I was still outside the play area (it was that or literally hover over them, as it is a complete maze, but I'm not so good with the helicoptering). Oh look, it's the bad mother with the coffee and the phone who doesn't cuddle her upset children! And she's got another one??? Parenting fail #2.

That's it, we're off home.

By the way, have you ever noticed how two year olds are really, really bad at getting out of the way when getting on or off a lift? Really, really bad? Imagine having two of them being really, really bad in opposite directions. Yeah, it's cool fun. And your eye-rolling doesn't make them any more likely to walk to the back of the lift in an orderly fashion - I know the dark one looks like he's John Cleese in his Ministry of Silly Walks persona, but that's just him trying to march in an orderly fashion.

Handwriting

2011-03-21T12:38:00.000+11:00

I have always had pretty neat handwriting, although there was one year (the year between printing and being able to choose how you wrote) where I learnt modified cursive and I was very bad at it. I ended up teaching myself old-fashioned handwriting from a book in the summer holidays, and ended up being known as the girl with the neat writing thereafter!

J, on the other hand - not so neat. Quite shockingly messy, actually. Even if he tries.

Genetically, it was pot luck for the girls. And it seems they may have scored badly in the genetic handwriting ability stakes.

A's writing is, to be frank, appalling. She forms her letters correctly, but no matter how hard she tries, there is no uniformity to size, shape or slope.

G's is better, and certainly with another two years under her belt, to bring her up to where A is now, I think she will have reasonable writing.

Z and the boys are an unknown quantity at this point.

Anyway, yesterday J's brother P came over for dinner. P is a teacher, so I asked him about A's handwriting. Before he got her to write a sample, he told me that he had always had appalling writing, and had been assessed as a teenager, and found to have some sort of motor issue that meant it was impossible for him to ever write neatly. (Being formally assessed meant he could either have a scribe, more time, or touch type for exams.) He then watched A write - both carefully, and as she would if she was just writing at normal speed. He thinks she has the same problem.

So now I'm considering an OT to have her assessed. She is already teaching herself to touch type, and knows all the letters now - just needs to practise the speed.

Far out, whatever happened to kids just going to school, coming home, and not having specialist appointments for everything??? I'm the last person to jump in and do that sort of thing, but her writing is so bad that I worry that others will overlook her intelligence because of bad first impressions. She doesn't deserve to be labelled like that.

Motherhood is a never-ending source of angst.

Multiple Birth Awareness Week!

2011-03-14T11:19:00.000+11:00

As if to point out to me that I was unaware it was Multiple Birth Awareness Week, the boys decided to empty their wardrobe again this morning, owing to the fact that I had, lazily, asked A to go up and fetch 2 pairs of socks so that I could try the boys' new shoes on.

I normally keep the wardrobe door handles tied together with a ribbon (I do it in a bow, then hook the bow loops over the knobs and pull them tight - I know it works because the doors are often ajar after the boys' nap time, but still tied, and the innards are inaccessible!), but A obviously did not re"lock" the doors after she got the socks for me.

So in reality, my fault for being lazy. But when a room strewn with clothes and pyjamas greets you, it is disheartening. Honestly, what's the fun in emptying the wardrobe? The answer is: probably no fun if you are alone, but loads of fun if you are competing with your twin 2yo brother to see who can empty the fastest and throw the farthest!!!

Therefore, after this morning, I am more than aware of multiple births. As if my jelly belly and rapidly increasing number of grey hairs was not providing enough awareness...

Still, the new shoes are cute!

Okay, back to being aware of multiple births - I have 2 boys howling at me, one because he can't get his Crocs off to put his new shoes on, and the other because he was pushed out of the way by the first one while trying to be first in line to get the new shoes on.

Same old same old

2011-03-09T13:54:00.000+11:00

Wow, some time has passed.

It's been a crazy beginning to 2011 for me. As usual, the endless round of birthday celebrations in January did my head in. The plan for next year is to host a big, externally-catered pool party for everyone (on Australia Day), and then draw out of a hat random weekends from throughout the year on which each child can celebrate his/her birthday with their particular friends. That way, we spread out the cake consumption and maintain some enthusiasm.

Also in January, I was booked in for a colonoscopy, as I had had some rectal bleeding for a couple of months. Turns out it was just irritation, mostly due to my dodgy post-childbirth anatomy. Either way, it has resolved now, and there was nothing more sinister found.

As if a day-stay for butt-camera work wasn't enough, I was lucky enough to have an arthroscopic acromioplasty in early February. That's shoulder surgery, for the uninitiated! I had had shoulder pain since the boys were quite young - just mild pain, but constant, and often worse at night. The surgery went well, but the pain I am still in five weeks later is almost unbearable. I have been taking a lot of painkillers (but, on an interesting note, the excess codeine has not blocked me up as it is prone to do to normal people, it has just made me nice and regular, like a normal non-codeined person would be). I have been doing physio twice a week and my movement is now fairly good, but it's the pain that is reducing me to tears most days. Sleep is elusive - even when I do sleep, the pain wakes me up and I find it difficult to get back to sleep.

I am seeing the specialist again today, so it will be interesting to hear his take on the pain issue. I need some sort of relief, though.

And onto parenting matters...

A turned 8 in January, and is now at her new school - a large K-6 school about 5 minutes' drive away. She loves it there, and has been elected as her class rep on the Student Representative Council, but missed out on being selected for the Junior Dance Group. Homework has been an eye-opener - a spelling list every night (she started at the second-highest level, 27 words, and moved to the highest level after 3 weeks of no mistakes, so now has 30 words); maths work from a workbook; and different tasks each week e.g. looking up and writing out the definitions of 5 of her spelling words, or writing a list of paid and unpaid workers in the community. She also has a daily times table quiz at school: starting out on the 2x table, 39 randomised 2x sums to be completed in 2.5 minutes, moving up to the next table if they get it all correct in the allotted time. She's now up to 12s, thanks to Tiger Dad's coaching!!! After 12s is mixed, which I know she'll struggle with, as she went through the lower levels too quickly to remember anything long-term.

G turned 6 in January. She is in Year 1 now, but when I picked her up from her first day of school this year, she was grinning from ear to ear, lined up on the old Year 2 verandah, saying "I'm in Year 2!" Not quite. She is in a 1/2 composite class; two of her good friends from our street are in Year 2, so are in her class. She is progressing brilliantly, but still has a bit of an attitude problem (telling Z she hates her, being negative about everything, being so angry all the time).

Z is now 4. What a change from being 3! She has suddenly started showing an interest in writing, her counting/maths is flourishing, and she comes out with some random funnies that keep us entertained. For example: "I know how they make tissues - it's just toilet paper without the flowers!" (We use a certain brand of toilet paper that has purple tulips printed on it.) Or the time she told me that Nanna had come out of her box and was smelling the rose that Tez was going to pick for her in their garden. (Okay, so that wasn't so much funny as sweet...)

*****************************
I typed that previous part this morning, then I got a call from my friend Cheryl (the girls' dance teacher at Squire Dance Academy) asking if I wanted to meet her at the park, so when Auntie M got home from swimming with Z and H and O, we all went to the park, and I didn't get to finish this!

Which means that I have also been to my appointment with the orthopaedic surgeon. After asking how I was doing, he asked "How are your nights?" He was not at all surprised to hear that they were bloody awful. Apparently it is a very common and well-known side-effect of this type of surgery, the cause of which is unknown, but which tends to resolve after 6-8 weeks. It's only been five weeks since my surgery, so I'm still in the timeframe! Regardless of how much it hurts, I can bear it as long as I know it's normal.

As for my physical recovery, I am "doing better than most". Yay me. I am graduating to the green thera-band for my strengthening exercises, and see the surgeon again in eight weeks.

Snippets

2010-11-08T13:14:00.001+11:00

I am one of many (millions?) who have fallen victim to the lure of Facebook. I'll admit that it is mostly now because my lovely online mothers' groups have private discussion forums there, and I don't want to lose contact with them. (I will also confess that I like to upload cute photos and videos and have lots of people fawn over my beautiful, talented, funny children...I am nothing if not narcissistic.)

But the problem is that I spend time updating my FB status with random funnies (mainly from the children), and not nearly enough time updating my blog, which I read back to myself months later with fond memories (and the realisation that life goes on and is never as bad in retrospect as it seemed at the time).

So today, I bring you some random snippets from my FB status updates.

3 October 2010

Yes, I have a son. He's the one pushing a Unique Cars magazine around in a pink dolly stroller!

10 October 2010

J: (watching the Commonwealth Games boxing) The Australian guy's just playing cat and mouse.

Miss 3: Which guy's Captain Mouse?

11 October 2010

It finally happened!!! Mr No-Words, when I asked him what he wanted, actually SAID, "Cheese." (Yep, he's that much of a freak - he can't talk at all, yet can form the CH and Z sounds without a problem.)

later the same day...

What was with my boys today? Leo copied me and said "Bye bye, water!" when we pulled the plug in the bath tonight. He's also been intoning a little chant I do whenever I'm changing his stinky nappies - even down to the weird croaky voice I usually do it in!!!

14 October 2010

(I'm cheating, I posted this photo on 17 October, but it actually happened on this date, so I'm putting it in the right chronological order!)

Yes, the big man had his first hair cut. He was getting a big comb-over style floppy bit on the crown of his head, and it was time for it to go.

16 October 2010

Is it wrong to be close to tears because a TV show that one had watched for 20 years has just shown its last episode? I'm going to miss my Saturday nights with The Bill.

17 October 2010

Daddy has taken his two biggest girls to the cricket today! Managed to leave the third girl at home with Mummy and the boys by purchasing cupcakes for morning tea...

18 October 2010

Nothing like walking up and down the stairs in a silent house at 1am to make one realise that one's knee makes a very unusual noise...

same day...

Oooh, 9 week old cocker spaniel puppy cuddles! Mummy gushing, 3yo more interested in Doodle Buddy on the iPhone. How times change...!

19 October 2010

Darcy's impressive vocabulary of 2 words:

20 October 2010

...feels another shitty day coming up. I seem to have lost all empathy for my fellow human beings. I just can't be arsed having to try so hard to see other points of view any more.

same day...

And today's tantrum of the day from Darcy was over the fact that Mummy said no, he couldn't wear pretty, dangly earrings. Although they would have gone nicely with the pink headband.

same day...

Do you think I should record Darcy's latest milestone in his baby book: "First fart blamed on someone else - 20th October 2010, aged 21 months"?

23 October 2010

Mad Woman Takes Five Young Children to Questacon

31 October 2010

This year's Christmas card photo:

2 November 2010

THEN and THAN are NOT INTERCHANGEABLE. My car is smaller THAN yours. Not THEN. "I'd rather go to his party THEN hers" does NOT mean you are choosing one over the other, it means you'd rather go to his first and hers afterwards. If you're not that much of a party animal, you need to use THAN.

5 November 2010

Remember how I wished - oh, how I wished - for the boys to start talking? Well, Darcy has been "talking" to me all freaking morning (first time he's babbled with sentence intonation) and it's already driving me nuts! So ungrateful I am.

same day...

Z: Mummy?
Me: Yes?
Z: Ummmm....I don't know this question.

7 November 2010

8 November 2010

Pet hate of the day: blogs whose links do not open in a new tab or window automatically. Bloggers take note. I do not like having to navigate back to your page just because I have followed a link you've provided. Target=blank, FYI.

same day...

Zara, aged nearly-4, pondering the world: "How do rabbits shake their heads?"

****************************************************

In summary, boys talking more, Z keeping me entertained with her curiosity, and me becoming more and more cynical and less and less tolerant as I age.

Mummy 1, Darcy 0...sort of...

2010-09-15T09:31:00.000+10:00

We have a staircase in our house. It is a horrible hard wooden thing, with a turn at the top and the bottom. However, the boys are now adept at using it, although D did take a tumble down the whole flight a month or so ago (and fortunately came away with nothing but a couple of eggs on his head).

When the girls were young (G in our house in NJ, and Z here), we taught them to come down the stairs as though they were coming down a ladder, i.e. to come down on their tummies, feet first. G became so good at this (our NJ stairs were carpeted) that she could slide down in half the time we could walk down!

The boys, on the other hand, refuse to come down like that. They insist on walking down. There are rails down one side, but towards the top they are flush against a wall, so you can't actually grab them, so it's not as safe as I would like. Anyway, the boys have it worked out, and they go up and down several times a day.

That was, until yesterday. Yesterday, D decided he wanted to be carried down the stairs. Not all that surprising, as I have been carrying him down the stairs after naps and first thing in the morning, as it's quicker! Normally, I would just say "No, you walk," hold out my hand, and he would come down with them. But yesterday? Nosiree, he was having none of that. It was "Uhhh" (his way of saying "Up") or nothing.

I refused to carry, he had a tantrum. A tantrum that lasted for at least half an hour. It only ended because it was nap time, and I went up stairs and asked him if he was ready for a nap. He was - he nodded and trotted off to his room.

He tried it on again in the afternoon, except that I had to indulge him in the end, as we were leaving the house for the girls' tap class, and G had threatened at 1000 decibels to kill me if I left D behind, wailing at the top of the stairs.

He then tried it on again before dinner. I just kept on cooking, and when I went up to tell him dinner was ready, he decided that it was probably in his best interests to walk down with me, which he did.

This morning he was funny. I got both boys out of bed, and Leo trotted off to the play room as usual. Darcy walked to the stairs. I held my hand out and he batted it away and went to raise his arms to ask to be carried. Then (you could see it tick over in his mind), he remembered his defeat of yesterday, and nodded his head emphatically as he held out his hand to hold mine and walk down the stairs!

While I was getting the girls' lunches ready, he went upstairs to play, and lo and behold a while later I hear the screaming at the top of the stairs again. However, I think it lasted about two minutes before he appeared at my side in the kitchen, having obviously decided that there was no point battling his horrible mean mother in order to be carried down.

Still, the trauma didn't seem to affect his ability to pick up some new words yesterday. He made creditable attempts at "lap" and "down", when I remembered the speech pathologist's directive to try and ask questions that required an answer other than "yes" or "no." I think we're finally making a start.

Leo also tried out his version of "poo poo" while I was changing his nappy. Given that he poos at least twice a day, I'm surprised it's taken him so long to say it, although perhaps I haven't exactly been saying "poo poo" much, because I am usually so impressed with what he's managed to put in his nappy, that I have developed a chant that goes "Ooh stinkarama, a-stinka-stinkarama!" Maybe he's waiting to talk until he can chant along?

Little and often...

2010-09-13T13:36:00.000+10:00

I was thinking of all those cute little anecdotes, or random observations, I often put in my Facebook status, and how I should put them here instead, to diarise my life a bit better!

But I don't actually having anything to add right now...

Took the boys to a multiples playdate today. It really is a different dynamic socialising with other mothers of multiples! However, bad mummy that I am, I forgot hats and sunscreen (in my defence, it had been partly cloudly, and forecast to rain, so I figured it wasn't going to get less cloudy!). Poor little ranga in the sun. Still, he didn't appear to get any colour. It's Leo who is gradually turning a very dark shade of brown.

I think we had a couple of new words in the last 24 hours. Last night, we were watching Top Gear, and Leo spotted some planes. So I said "Plane" to him, and he made a good attempt at saying it back: "Pup." Close enough. Starting with the same letter is an improvement, previously he would have copied me with something like "duh."

And today at the park, there was a garbage truck there for quite a while, while the garbos were tackling the multitude of bins, and Darcy insisted that I sit with him because the truck was scary (yes, a non-verbal child can communicate this type of need - it involves lots of terrified screaming, then clinging to mummy when she comes over, but wanting to stay right there to watch from the safety of behind mummy's shoulder). So I attempted to get him to copy "truck" and he made a creditable attempt, which he actually repeated consistently. Baby steps...

Work is starting on our new pool soon. The girls are going to be terribly excited to have a new posh pool to swim in, and Leo will be excited that there is a digger in his backyard. Darcy will probably howl about how scary the digger is. Will have to document the work as it progresses. Not looking forward to having to keep inquisitive little boys out of very deep pits of earth, or stop them escaping out of permanently open gates down driveways...

Poor neglected blog

2010-09-03T10:02:00.002+10:00

I was going through an anti-putting-personal-stuff-on-the-internet phase. But I figured it was all out there in some way anyway, so there was no point in ignoring the blog any longer!!!

It's been a busy, stressful winter for us.

First and foremost, I lost my mum to leukaemia a few weeks ago. Given that she was diagnosed with lymphoma in November 2006, and had undergone chemo for that, was in remission, but had weekly blood transfusions because her bone marrow had been destroyed by the chemo (apparently happens in about 5% of chemo patients), she decided not to go ahead with chemo for the leukaemia. From diagnosis to the day she passed away was only 2.5 weeks.

The children and I were so fortunate that we visited her on her last conscious day (4 days before she died). A was lovely, insisted on holding Nanna's hand the whole time she was awake. Nanna was able to smile and chat and appreciate the drawings that the girls had done for her. I took some photos of all the kids sitting on Nanna's hospital bed.

The day she died, I arrived down in B________ at about 10am. Dad and C had been told she wouldn't make it through the day. We sat with her all day (aside from a lunch break C and I took at the local diner - pancakes with bacon and maples syrup bringing back memories of our US days!). I left at 4pm as Dad hates us driving on the B________ Road at dusk or in the dark.

I arrived home at 7pm, had a bath, and had just sat down to finally relax when the phone call came. C had gone home (to Mum and Dad's place) to have dinner and grab a pillow and doona, because she was going to stay the night at the hospital. When she got back, Dad was not there, and she noticed that the horrible gurgling noise Mum had been making while breathing had stopped. It took her a few seconds to work out why.

A friend said that it is common for people to wait till their loved ones have left the hospital room before they pass away (if it is any sort of choice they have!). It is nice to think that maybe Mum had a degree of consciousness to make a "decision" to wait till C and I were not there.

We attended her funeral several days later. All the children came with us. Ever tried wrangling two 19mo boys in the middle of a funeral service?! They weren't noisy, just wriggly. I had to laugh when we were trying to say the Lord's Prayer, and Leo was trying to shove my bracelet (which I had taken off and given to him by way of entertainment) into my mouth.

A was devastated at the graveside. She stood next to my dad and sobbed. Afterwards, she didn't want to leave him, so rode back to the local club with Dad and Auntie C.

G was reserved. I think she was not quite sure how to feel. She insisted on stepping close to the grave to look down after the coffin was lowered.

Z asked repeatedly in a very loud stage whisper, "Mummy, why is Nanna in a box?" I think she was confused as G's teacher had told her that when people die they become a bright star in the sky. So Z couldn't work out how Nanna could be a star yet be in a box. (It was even funnier a week or so later, when she was mulling over it, and decided that Nanna's body was in the box but her head was in the sky.)

Dealing with death when you have young children is both easy and difficult. Easy because as an adult you tend to focus on the young children (not necessarily in relation to the death, but just because life goes on and you need to do the routine, mundane things like school, dancing etc). Difficult because you don't get time to just sit and focus on how you feel. I still don't think I've processed it. I haven't cried much at all. And this is my beautiful, wonderful, best-mother-in-the-world Mummy whom I have lost. Why haven't I cried properly?

Prior to all of this, I had decided to have the boys assessed for their lack of speech. I figured that, even though they were probably "WNL" ("within normal limits" in medical speak!), a professional saying so would help me relax about it.

So, first stop - audiologist. Turned out that both boys had glue ear in their right ear, but a normal left ear. Potentially, they had it bilaterally and it had previously resolved in the left ear, which would explain their lack of babbling at babbling age. Recommendation was 1 month of antibiotics, and recheck in 2 months. We're coming up to the recheck soon.

Next stop - speech pathologist. We saw the lovely lady to whom we took G at age 3 when we were concerned about some of her speech (she turned out to be actually quite advanced, and, aside from her weird S sounds - which she says more like SH - speaks well now). The speechie didn't feel that there was a big problem at this point - their receptive language (listening and following directions etc) is fine, and we just need to give them some one-on-one time a couple of times a week, and use simple language rather than full sentences. You have no idea how difficult it was for me the first few times I had to say things like "D drop cup?" instead of "Did you drop the cup, D?"

Funnily enough, in the middle of D's appointment, he started to try and say "Up, please!" which he had previously only signed. It came out like "Uppuh" but you could tell he was trying to say it.

Since then, they have each picked up a couple of words, but not really made much progress. Interestingly, a couple of weeks ago, D started clutching at his right ear. At first, J said "I think D has a sore ear, he keeps grabbing it," but then I thought maybe the glue ear had "popped" and now everything was exceptionally loud to him. We'll find out when we see the audiologist again, I guess.

On top of deaths and appointments for the boys, A and G had a ballet gala concert to perform in last weekend. What a long day for two little girls (well, qutie a few little girls, but only 2 of them were mine!). Train to the city at 9am, stage rehearsal at 10.20am, an hour from 11-12 for me to do their hair and makeup and feed them, then backstage for dress rehearsal at 1pm and concert at 4pm. Parents were not allowed backstage, and the poor little things had to sit around in their tutus for 6 hours. Still, the performance was lovely, we will buy an overpriced DVD of it, and Miss C (my friend and their teacher) said A and G were wonderfully well behaved.

Phew, I could have written so much more. I need to do little and often, I think!

A Life Less Interesting

2010-05-27T14:48:00.002+10:00

Whenever I am sitting at the computer, I'm uninspired. In fact, sitting at the computer saps any inspiration I may have started with at the moment I sat.

On the other hand, inspiration abounds while I'm, say, lying in the bath, or wide awake at 3am after a dream that I needed to pee (which resulted in waking and realising I indeed needed to pee).

'Tis neither 3am nor am I currently in the bath, so you can guess where I'm heading with this blog post. Precisely nowhere.

Anyway, same old same old here.

A is gorgeous, obnoxious, irritating, frustrating, cute, talented and thick as two short planks, all in the space of 5 minutes.

G is a more extreme version of A (although replace thickness with cunning).

Z is yet more of the same, although three is a cute age, so stuff that I would label obnoxious, irritating or frustrating might actually fall under the cute category for her! (Depends on my mood, obviously. There are also days when what would normally pass for cute on anyone's radar are infinitely frustrating or annoying!)

And the boys. OMG. They are 16.5mo. This is a hint about what they are like. Think of any 16.5mo you know. Give them a buddy. Let them loose. Now you're close to a normal scene in the Lindenwood Madhouse. Kitchen chairs are for climbing. Coffee tables are for sitting on. Sofas are for diving off via the arms. Kitchen cupboards are for opening...and closing...and opening...and emptying...and closing...and opening... If it is nappy change time, twin 2 will hang around to watch twin 1, then inevitably run in the opposite direction the moment twin 1 is placed down from the change table. If the back door is open, there will be a baby in the dirt (or puddle if it has been raining).

Still, the giggles that emanate from the bottom of the stairs as they play peek-a-boo with each other through the rails...I could live on the sound of that!

Bits and pieces

2010-04-14T12:32:00.003+10:00

It seems like an age since I last posted. We have been so busy in that time, that I think I am going to bullet-point what has been going on.

Mummy and A an G went to Switzerland, where we stayed with family in Zuoz and skied for 8 days in a row.
Boys are sleeping through - started the day I left for Switzerland.
Leo is on the verge of walking. I went through a period a couple of weeks ago where I was worried about his development, and within a couple of days of voicing my concerns, he was doing the things I was worried about him not doing!
It is school holidays. I have been sick for the majority of them - flu, migraines, now sore throat/ear ache/cough/lethargy. Going to the doctor this afternoon to see if it's something with a quick fix (hoping for bronchitis!). Will be gutted if it is not something easily fixable, or worse still, not diagnosable. I feel like shit.
I have a new nephew - H's little brother O. He was born on Monday. I found out his name from a friend of my sister's. The rest of the family had known it for 24 hours before I found out. I am sure it doesn't mean anything. But since I already felt like shit, I just felt even more like shit.

That's about it. School is going back next Tuesday, by which time I will hopefully be feeling slightly better. I am so overwhelmed physically right now that I can't think straight. The stupid part? I am sleeping better than I have for probably nearly 2 years.

Random musings

2010-02-22T16:59:00.008+11:00

Well, the most obvious point is that I have not posted anything here since mid-January!

As usual, January was a complete blur - we managed to survive all the birthdays, a major family rift (which is ongoing), and the start of the new school year. But by way of a more thorough update, I shall sort my musings by child!

AM
She is now 7. She is growing taller (in the legs, if you can believe that as the daughter of someone who always has to take her pants up), and gaining the beginnings of a teenage attitude (with only 6 short years to go until she hits the teenage milestone).

She was happy to head back to school and spend more time with her friends. Being at a K-2 school means she is now one of the "big kids." She is now off home readers and is just asked to read anything to me at home in the evenings (she was past extension level, so there was no point in her bringing home books that were too easy). Despite her reading ability, she remains an airhead, and maths is not her strong point. She did make it onto the extension quota for spelling, meaning she is on the top quota of 10 words, plus 3 extension words. As far as she knows, there are only two people in her class on this level, one of them being herself! Quite an achievement (in a small, K-2 school way!).

She has graduated to the next level of ballet, and also joined the more advanced tap class. That class is a huge challenge - a big step up from the beginner class of last year - but she is relishing it, and doing a really good job.

GM
My new little schoolgirl! She started in kindergarten at A's school this year. It appears as though she is going to be even more advanced than her older sister. Unfortunately, they don't get to bring home readers until second term, so we try and read with her at home, just whatever book she chooses.

She has also moved up a level in ballet, but is not quite as talented as A. She still enjoys it, though, and so we will continue with it until she decides she has had enough. She might find something different that she wants to do - maybe music? (As a former musician, people think it is strange that none of my children learn or show an interest in musical instruments!)

ZM
She is now at preschool one day a week. She has had a sudden developmental surge and now has an incredible vocabularly and ability to express herself. It can be hard to tell the difference between her and G on the phone. She does have some of the little speech quirks that G had at that age, but whereas it was a new thing to us with G (and therefore of enough concern to consult a speech pathologist), we know it is something that will resolve over time, given the right encouragement, so it is no big deal.

She has started ballet and tap this year. She loves doing everything that her big sisters are doing. She's still at that age where the attention span is somewhat lacking, but I know that this is something that will improve with time (been there, done that, twice already!).

DM
Ah, where to start? My little 13mo is now walking. And climbing. And reaching up to great heights. And starting to talk - he called out "Mama!" in the park the other day as he toddled towards me (after being herded away from the basketball court by Daddy, where he had been making an advance on a stray ball).

He also has a fascination with dogs, and if he sees one, he will point and grunt madly. He tries to make a dog sound, but "woof" comes out more like "ffff".

His hair is still orange, and is starting to curl at the back. Looking back at photos of H as a toddler, his hair was quite orange - similar to D's - and yet it is now a softer shade of strawberry blonde. So who knows how D's will end up?

Aside from walking, his biggest personal achievement (judging by the size of his grin when he realises you are watching him) is climbing on the sofa. Thankfully, he has also mastered the art of climbing down, and hasn't yet managed to climb up on the back and fall onto the tiles and earn himself a trip to the ER (although we are just biding our time till this inevitability).

LM
Little Lion Man. Triple J's hottest 100 #1, thanks to Mumford and Sons!

He is not walking, but his cruising is improving every day, and in the last week he has gone from only walking with an adult holding both hands, to walking just holding one adult hand. He might not be as agile as his brother, but he is opportunistic - heaven help anyone who leaves the stair gate or the back door open.

His "lucky fin" (as we like to call his curved ankle) has been assessed by a paediatric orthopaedic surgeon, who said that it will right itself as he starts to walk. He does want to see him when he is 2, to measure his legs and make sure that they are equal in length.

He loves his food, and although he is still incredibly messy, he is a fast and voracious eater. (This compares to D, who has become slower and more picky, although you'd never know it by the size of his thighs.)

The family and other stuff
A, G and I leave for our skiing holiday on Friday. Packing is all done, and now it's just a waiting game. We are all excited to be seeing the B______ family - J's cousin, his wife, and their three children W, Z (Z's namesake) and L. I think W and Z will be very disappointed in their cousins' skiing abilities (or lack thereof), but hopefully A and G will pick up enough to be able to enjoy themselves with their cousins, or at least with their mummy, who is unlikely to be anywhere near as good a skier as the little Swiss children!!!

We are in the first throes of having some renovations done. By first throes, I mean we have a draughtsman (draftsman?) and a builder sorted, and preliminary plans. We are making our back living area enlarged, an outdoor entertaining area added, and the garage converted into a wet area for the pool and entertaining area. We are also going to be renovating the pool, to make it more useful and less labour-intensive.

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It has taken me two days to type this! I am slack. I am awating an 11am meeting with the draughtsman and builder, and also have to find a torx screwdriver somewhere because my rear vision mirror fell off yesterday! There's always something else to do that I haven't factored into my daily plans. Not to mention that D woke up with a fever, which means no playdate with cousin H (and therefore no quick trip up to the butcher and hardware store while Auntie M babysits).

Happy 1st Birthday!

2010-01-10T14:04:00.002+11:00

(A day late, a dollar short...)

My boys are one year old. Where the last year has gone I have no idea, but it has gone, never to be revisited.

We had a small family BBQ yesterday to celebrate. Unfortunately, something happened which soured the day for me, and so I will always remember the boys' first birthday for the wrong reasons.

Still, putting aside the elephant in the room, the boys seemed to have a fantastic day. They each received a ball from Mummy and Daddy and their siblings, but we couldn't think of anything else they needed, so perhaps at a later date I will get them some new clothes (more new clothes, that is - they received plenty for Christmas, and again for their birthdays from others).

Darcy chose yesterday to stand up unassisted! He was squatting out on the back lawn when all of a sudden he employed those fab quads of his and stood up. I just happened to have my camera, as I had been taking birthday photos of both boys, so the moment was caught for posterity.

They both enjoyed their birthday cupcake, and crawling through their new tunnel. They are two very spoilt little boys.

All these moments are captured in this slideshow...

They also received the most beautiful custom-made nappies from our friends R, P, M, M and J. They are to be worn for a cake smash which R is going to host as part of their birthday present! Obviously photos of that will be posted when we do it (hopefully in early February, after the big ones are back at school, and the middle-sized ones are at preschool).

Love you, my two beautiful little boys who will one day be my gorgeous big boys. Looking forward to watching you grow and learn in your second year.

And so endeth 2009

2009-12-31T12:25:00.002+11:00

Let's purge 2009 with some stream of consciousness...

Late twin pregnancy...ugggggghhhh...thank goodness only having to wait 9 days into the new year to have that over and done with, although having to make it into the new year at all saw us miss out on a $10K baby bonus, courtesy of that horrible man who is our Prime Minister (no, I don't think he's horrible just because he didn't give us $10K - I dislike him intensely anyway).

New babies! All the reading in the world about what it would be like with twins did not prepare me for the sheer magnitude of the hell I ended up in. Two reflux babies. No sleep. A family to continue to run despite aforesaid hell.

I honestly can't remember anything happening between 9 January and when I went to Tresillian. Oh wait, I went to Melbourne. That was a blur. I remember D had his first solids there - a bit of icecream! Just call me Bogan with a capital B!!! I also remember trying to have dinner at a friend's place, and having the boys scream blue murder the whole time I was there, and making an early exit.

Oh wait again...we had the Serial Killers' meet in March. I do remember lunch at Watson's Bay - it was lovely. And the evening at the interstate guests' apartment in Darling Harbour, when everyone finally got to see that I was in no way exaggerating when I said that D would scream all night. (That was actually bad - what I wanted was to be wrong, that he wouldn't scream all night, or that people would say "He's not as bad as you make out." In actual fact, everyone who met him those first 6 months said, "Wow, you're right, he's bad." Even the MCHN.)

So, we've been to Tresillian, and some semblance of sleep has descended on our house. I think it was the starting of solids that settled their poor refluxy tummies, to be honest. Anyway, feeling a bit more human by the end of July.

And then it's just chaos. Ballet for two, preschool for one, school for another, Wednesdays with Nonna and Grandpa. I think this year the powers that be skipped us all straight from July to December, because all of a sudden it was concert season, shopping season, swimming season...

And as I contemplated writing this, while I was making my coffee this morning, I turned around to check on the children.

One boy was French-kissing the garbage bin. The other was howling, dummy in, face red and splotchy from a combination of howling and raging fever.

Middle girl was having a rare quiet and happy moment, and I smiled at the memory of yesterday when she had reliably informed me that fascinating meant "beautifuller than lipstick."

Big girl for once wasn't answering back in a sentence beginning with "But..." (Poor thing, I actually said to her at one point "I am in a very bad mood today, okay?" and she visibly shuddered. I guess she thought that that meant I was in a worse mood than usual, and she cops a lot of flak even on a good day...)

Little girl was looking angelic with her new short curls. She had yet to unleash the inner beast at that time of day. (She has not actually had a tantrum today. At least someone's havign a good day.)

And when Middle Girl used the word "actually" twice in one conversation, I realised I use it too much. Maybe that will be my New Year's resolution - say "actually" less often.

I won't be around to see in the new year. Okay, I might be, but if I am, it is because I have gotten up to a screaming banshee...oops, I mean baby. So no fireworks here. And no champagne toasts.

But Happy New Year anyway! May 2010 be slightly more sleep-filled, more organised and may I be more appreciative of what I have.

Silly season

2009-12-29T13:55:00.002+11:00

Well, another Christmas has been and gone. All too quickly, and with too much stress and disorganisation on my part.

Of course, bi-weekly trips to the hospital for bandage changes didn't help. After our visit on Friday 18 December, D's right hand was healed well enough to be covered in an adhesive dressing with an elasticised tubular bandage over the top. He still had his blue boxing glove bandage on the other hand, although he had access to his thumb at this point.

Unfortunately, at our visit on Tuesday last week, it was discovered that the elasticised bandage had given him a pressure sore on his little finger. So, despite his left hand now also being healed enough to not require rebandaging, we were pencilled in for a recheck today because of the pressure sore.

Another spanner in the pre-Christmas organisation works was the fact that L developed balanitis on Monday night last week. J was out to dinner, so all six of us had to traipse off to the after-hours clinic to have it checked out, and then to the pharmacy to pick up antibiotics. Amazingly, the lovely doctor at the children's hospital offered to check it out when we went the following day for D's bandage change, and offered to recheck it this week. The antibiotics worked wonders, and he was back to normal within a couple of days, and given the all clear by the doctor at the hospital today.

I obviously got out of the wrong side of bed on Christmas Eve, because I did not cope too well with the whole day. For a start, being a weekday, J was at work, so all the preparation required for getting five children and a pavlova and myself ready to go out for lunch was down to me (in my foul mood).

The pavlova was the least of my worries - that was done and dusted by 10am. I even managed to bathe the boys before putting them down for a nap prior to our leaving at about 12.30pm.

That was when things started to unravel. D woke up after a lovely two-hour nap, but as I walked into the nursery, the unmistakeable odour of baby faeces floated up my nostrils. I assumed it was L, as D usually has quite a drama getting a poo out, and I hadn't heard any such thing.

So I glanced sideways at L. He was angelically asleep, on his tummy, with a cute naked bottom sticking up in the air. Wait! Naked bottom??? He hadn't gone to bed like that. In the dim light, the true horror of the situation slowly revealed itself - a discarded dirty nappy, and faeces smeared from pole to pole through the cot, and all over L.

Well, L was still asleep, oblivious to the mess and the stench, so I continued with my plan to feed D. After that peaceful 5 minutes, I steeled myself for the task ahead. Careful handling of poo-baby in order to get him into the bath and cleaned up. Then stripping of the cot bedding, including bumper, and soaking it in the bathtub with some Napisan (it was too big to put in the laundry tub!). Then cleaning of the cot itself. All the while, the boys were crawling around the front of the house, laughing or crying, depending on what had happened to them in the preceding minute. And all the while, I was about to burst a foofer valve.

Remarkably, we got out the door on time. How this miracle occurred, I have no idea.

Aforesaid foofer valve did finally burst while I was in the middle of depositing blueberries on top of the whipped cream with which I'd just slathered the pav. Was accused of putting too many blueberries on top by Auntie M, to which J agreed, so I staged a walk-out protest. Unfortunately, the impact of the protest was lost by the fact that I really wanted to eat the pav, so had to come back immediately and finish topping it with raspberries. Meh. I was already over the whole day, given that D was refusing to sleep a wink, despite a walk with the stroller. Yet again, I was acutely aware of the huge leap in difficult from having one baby to having two.

Christmas Day was much better. Quieter, and I obviously got out of the right side of bed, or else it was all easier with an extra pair of adult hands. Even survived lunch at the ILs', although D again refused a proper nap.

The holiday weekend has now been and gone. J is back at work. The girls are arguing over playing various games (they received lots of games for Christmas, but can't seem to cooperate in order to play any of them without screaming at each other). Normality has descended once more.

Bandage changes

2009-12-15T17:24:00.002+11:00

We had our first bandage change last Friday (the morning after the burns) at Sydney Children's Hospital.

With regular doses of Pain-Stop (gotta love codeine) and Nurofen, he had done pretty well overnight, and was bright and cheery when faced with the nurses who were about to do nasty things to him!

His hands had blistered right up under the bandages overnight, so they were pretty dramatic-looking when those bandages came off. The blisters all needed to be popped and the fluid drained, and then all the dead skin was debrided (just with tweezers). Mr Curious actually watched the whole shebang until the point where a bit of skin that wasn't dead was pulled off, and his hand bled, and then he was, understandably, a little upset.

He was also upset when the silver-impregnated dressings were applied, as apparently they sting, and he now had big raw patches on his palms. But with another layer of some sort of gel bandage, and crepe bandage, and then the magic Coban (in bright blue), he was happy again by the time we left.

Between then and now, he has learnt to crawl on his "stumps", and has decided that dogs have it right when they choose to pick things up with their mouths. (I believe most babies would have practised picking up things with their stumps, but he continues to try with his mouth.)

He has stayed on the Pain-Stop but I am trying to make it less frequent. I can usually tell when he needs it as he becomes sooky and clingy. I am holding off on the Nurofen as I never trust it not to cause an upset stomach.

Today was bandage change number two. What is most difficult (for me) is that they take the old bandages off as soon as you go into the treatment room, in preparation for the doctor to examine the wounds, but the time between bandages coming off and doctor checking the wounds is upward of ten minutes - that's ten minutes of me holding his wrists to stop him touching anything with his hands. At least ten minutes. And that's not counting the time from examination by doctor until the nurses come back ready to rebandage them! Add another twenty minutes. Leo was sitting in the stroller squealing (loudly) because nobody was talking to him!

I didn't get a chance to photograph the wounds today, as with the raw skin, I was too scared of letting his hands contact anything (not least of which was my new pants!) while I reached across to get my phone. So you'll have to believe me when I say they looked horrible (and, as a vet, I've seen a lot of horrible...). But at least fresh, uninfected horrible - not festy, stinky, red and inflamed and infected horrible.

Eventually (and it really wasn't a long wait as far as hospital waits go, just felt long due to the fact I was restraining a squirming 11kg baby the whole time), the nurse came back to debride more dead skin and redress the wounds. More tears, more silver+gel+crepe+Coban, and we were good to go. Until Friday. Hopefully the silver dressing won't be required then, but I'm a bit concerned about what will happen when they decide he no longer needs dressings but needs ointment or something - yay, let's spread some grease everywhere we crawl (and pick up dirt and dog hair and God knows what else).

Anyway, brave boy is in his cot now - I was hoping for him to nap before dinner, but he seems (according to what I'm hearing on the monitor) to be playing and singing. Oh well, at least he's happy.

Darcy's first trip to the ER

2009-12-11T00:47:00.002+11:00

It's December. Two weeks until Christmas. Less than 4 weeks till the endless round of January birthdays in our house.

So Darcy decided it was time for a bit of excitement. We were at Auntie M's house for dinner, as both J and Uncle M were out for the night. I had just fed the boys their serve of yummy creamy chicken and tomato pasta, and had finally sat down at the table to start mine.

Darcy and Leo were playing in the living room and kitchen. I could see most of the kitchen from where I was sitting. Not twenty seconds after I saw Darcy playing with the magnets on the fridge, we hear a blood-curdling scream.

Both M and I jumped up and ran the 3 steps to the kitchen, to find Darcy leaning against the front of the oven, screaming and trying to work out how to get his hands off without falling over. (He'd obviously cruised along the cupboards until he reached the oven, which had been used to cook garlic bread.)

I unceremoniously dumped him into the kitchen sink and ran cold water over his hands for ten minutes while M searched for a phone number for the 24hr nurse hotline. Failing to find that, she called the after-hours clinic at the local private hospital, who said he needed to go straight to Emergency.

So I bundled both him and Leo into the car, while M reassured me that the girls would be fine. He was still screaming. He continued to scream the whole way there (less than 5 minutes), and the whole way into the ER from the car, and then for the next twenty minutes actually in the ER.

We were taken straight through and again sat him in the sink and ran his hands under the tap for another 10-15 minutes. He had a dose of Pain-Stop (paracetamol and codeine for children - apparently available OTC!), but then also had some morphine IM on dr's orders. He had wet bandages wrapped to both hands. He continued to scream (while Leo was being passed around the nurses' station being admired and entertaining everyone) until we were moved to a treatment room, where they turned the lights out and I was able to feed him to sleep. The nurses brought Leo back after he fell asleep in the stroller, so for a while there, it was very peaceful.

The nurse practitioner came in to dress his hands, and of course he woke up when we moved him onto the bed. She went to get some more supplies, assuming he would go back to sleep as he seemed very drowsy from the morphine.

But no. First of all, he noticed his left hand, all bandaged up. He looked at it quizzically, tried to bite it, and then grinned at it. I said, "Yes, you've got a funny bandaged hand!" and of course hand is one of the words that causes him to clap on command, so he tried to clap. It was at this point he noticed the bandage on his right hand. Now, the burns were pretty badly blistered already, so you'd think he'd be at least grizzling about them, but instead, he thought that having two bandaged hands was hilarious, and was giggling his cute little arse off!!! I even tried to sing a slow quiet song to get him back to sleep, and he laughed at me.

We ended up getting his hands bandaged quite quickly; he was extremely cooperative.

Back at Auntie M's, he chilled out in his car seat, while Leo played with some blocks, and I ate some dinner (this was about 10pm). Then we went through the production line process of getting the boys and all the sleeping girls into the car.

Eventually got home about 11pm. A was awake at this point, and was so wonderfully helpful while I dealt with getting the girls in bed, and changing nappies and getting the boys sorted. She even fed the dogs for me. Bless her, she is a gorgeous little girl, for all that I scream at her for her non-stop talking!

My evening's plans had been put at least 2 hours behind schedule by now! I had a million things to do, most of which actually needed doing, so I resigned myself to being up till the wee hours.

The washing has just finished, as has the dryer. That is my cue to go to bed. I have to be up at 7am and dressed and reasonably civilised, as the handyman is coming to install a new front door lock and our bedroom mirror tomorrow at about 7.30am.

Thankfully, Auntie M and H are coming over to spend the day with us tomorrow. I will be incoherent from exhaustion...

Ten months old

2009-11-12T21:50:00.002+11:00

Dear Boy-boys,

You turned 10 months old on Monday this week. It is now Thursday. That's three days in which I have failed to celebrate such a milestone! But here I am to make up for it.

Well, what can I say? Mostly more of the same. Same Leo waking three times a night. Same Darcy with his anal fissures. But wait...didn't I only feed Leo once last night (and that was before I went to bed myself)? Is that a tooth (or two) that I see on Darcy's bottom gum?

Boy-boys, I am currently getting a good laugh out of how completely different you are in your eating habits.

Leo, you are the same when eating as you are when exploring: slash-and-burn, out-of-my-way, what-the-heck-is-this?-oh-nothing-interesting-throw-it-away. Each meal ends up partly down your gob, partly smeared all over your face, partly smeared through your hair and in your ears, partly on the highchair tray, and partly on the floor. (You are the dogs' favourite twin.) When you are in that in-between stage of not being ravenous, but not being full either, you have a tendency to spit out each mouthful into your hand, and then slowly smoosh it back into your mouth (but with somewhat less efficiency than it went in off the spoon in Mummy's hand in the first place).

Darcy, you are fastidious. Seriously, you give G a run for her money, and she's about to start school! Barely a morsel escapes your mouth; you are an efficient food imbibing machine (your thighs could have told us that). I gave you and your brother half a banana each yesterday, and again today (first times). You held your half gently, and took slow, measured bites out of it, and at the end of the process, you'd never know you'd even had a banana. Your brother, on the other hand, spread his hither and yon, to the point that I found a piece on the backside of my pants several hours later, while in a room at the opposite end of the house to the eating end.

You both enjoy exploring the backyard, but it has been too hot and sunny these last few days to let you out. This afternoon was cloudy, so I let you both out while the girls and their friends were in the pool. You had an absolute ball, eating grass clippings, watching the other children swim, and using the clothes airers to do a bit of pole dancing.

I wonder if I will ever consider your smiles as normal and boring? I am still in the honeymoon period, after all that time when you were both miserable, crying (or screaming), non-sleeping babies, where one little smile (even a half-smile, which you, Darcy, are particularly good at) makes me all gooey. I love seeing you both happy. I love it when you, Leo, wake up in the morning and babble at the top of your lungs as I carry you from your cot to the living room. I love it when you, Darcy, find something worthy of a smile, because you are so serious most of the time. I do not love it, Darcy, when you find it necessary to laugh every single time your brother cries. (Leo, you do not do this - you prefer to cry in sympathy.)

The year is nearly over. And with the new year comes the celebration of your first birthday. I can't believe it is that close. I need to try and appreciate moments as they happen, rather than look towards the next "moment". That way, I can enjoy your babyhood for that bit longer.

Lots of love from Mummy

PS You both still love me feeding you. I have had to go out and buy a new nursing bra because my old ones were falling apart. I had given up feeding all of your sisters by this age, but I can't see an end in sight for you. I am secretly hoping to drag it out as long as possible, as it will the last time I will ever experience it. Please humour me and keep enjoying it!

Little things

2009-10-19T13:17:00.004+11:00

D has learnt to clap! It is very baby-cute. When he first started off (last Wednesday), one of his hands would be in a fist, so when the clapping got too frenetic, he would end up grabbing his fist with his open hand and then bopping his joined hands up and down instead. He now seems to have mastered the two-open-hands (i.e. normal person) clap, so none of the fist-grabbing any more.

Along with the clapping has developed a new-found love of music. We can be sitting around, and a jingle will start playing on a TV ad, and next thing we know, D is bopping away happily.

L is still just a marauder. He is also a not-sleeping-well-at-night baby. While I was away at Mum an Dad's last week, night waking meant night feeding, as there was no way I could let either of them cry when there were others in the house. But last night I bit the bullet, and it wasn't very tasty.

It all started at about 11.30pm (which was good in a way, because I had gone to bed early and the boys had been asleep for 4 hours by this time). A quick feed for L (I still do that late-night feed if they wake) and back to sleep. However, he then grumped and grizzled his way through to 1am, at which time I fed him again just to keep the peace. He did drop off intermittently after that, allowing me to feed D when he woke (completely blocked up and snuffly) at 2am, but thereafter it was on for young and old. I tried the pat-pat-patting of our Tresillian days: all that did was assure him that I was serious about not picking him up and feeding him, so he cracked the shits. I tried another feed (much later) - he sucked half-heartedly, nodded off, and then started screaming again ten minutes later. In the end, I left him to sort himself out (aka I left him to scream). J went upstairs about 3am - I thought he was annoyed with me, but he was actually on the same page with regard to letting him cry and get used to going back to sleep without a feed. L eventually went to sleep some time between 4am and 4.30am.

Needless to say, I am one tired chook today. Tired, plus mastitic due to Mr Snuffalupagus not feeding properly overnight. I have just taken two Nurofen Plus, and I am sitting here with a cold pack on my right boob. I'm a seasoned expert at this mastitis business now.

Z is also driving me batty. A and G were always open to the power of suggestion: if, for example, they were being slow with their breakfast, I would tell them "No xyz if you are not finished within 5 minutes!" and they would hurry up and shovel their breakfast in as fast as they could. Z, however, instead of jumping on the shovelling bandwagon, just sits there and wails "But I want xyz!"

This morning I threatened that she would walk to school in pyjamas if she wasn't finished her breakfast in time to get dressed. Well, guess what? She walked to school in pyjamas. Problem is, it didn't daunt her one bit (except for a brief instant when she realised she was shoeless and undie-less, and ran around finding her Crocs). I am wondering if she will ever care about anything. Is she dumber than her sisters? Or just lacking in any concern for others or the rules? Whatever it is, I am not sure I want to deal with it much longer. Last night, J called out to me to bring his pillow downstairs when I'd said goodnight to the girls, and when I came downstairs pillowless, and he laughed that I'd forgotten something I'd said I'd do only 2 minutes prior, I replied "I was too busy hating my children to think about your pillow."

Onward and upward...tomorrow has to be a better day, doesn't it?

On a brighter note, the weekend saw two sporting achievements of sorts for the girls in the madhouse. A apparently played well at futsal on Saturday morning (any praise from Daddy is high praise indeed), and G has learnt to ride a bike! (This was achieved in a reasonably short time by purchasing one of these which she has been riding for about 4 weeks. We switched over to her regular bike yesterday, and she was riding almost straight away. Prior to the Skuut, she relied heavily on the training wheels and never really got a feel for balancing on two wheels.)

So proud of my little ballerinas!

2009-09-30T20:12:00.002+10:00

A and G got their ballet exam results back today. Both of them were awarded an Honours grade, with the highest grade in each of the criteria examined.

A's comments: Delightful "pull-up" in body. A good effort to maintain good ballet posture but be careful not to sway back. Beautiful focus and entertaining style.

G's comments: A lovely effort with your dancing - well done Grace. Continue to work hard on pointing your toes and make sure you show off your beautiful smile.

It was open day at their classes today, but L was having a complete meltdown, so I couldn't stay (not that I'd planned on staying anyway, as I really needed to cook dinner). I felt bad about that, because I always seem to be making excuses to the girls about why I can't do things "because of the boys."

A very average day

2009-09-17T12:51:00.002+10:00

You know, in the traditional sense of average, meaning the mean of all the range of days. Not in the "bad day" sense.

Six year old at school on time - check.
Four other children dressed on time - check.
Civilised (and short) trip to Westfield to buy nappies, an orange, some cheese, and toothpaste - check.
Four-year-old offloaded to friend's for lunch and play - check.
Two eight-month-olds refreshed after nap and chewing on avocado-smeared corn thins - check.
Two-year-old full of grapes and (homemade) strawberry milkshake, entertaining the babies with her rentition of The Farmer in the Dell ("The farmer takes some wipes, the farmer takes some wipes..." No wait, it's changed, it's now "The farmer in the bin, the farmer in the bin...") - check.
Ham, cheese and avocado toastie in Mummy's tummy - check.
Playdate organised for six-year-old for after school (meaning no school pick-up for Mummy today!) - check.
Two loads of washing on line - check.

Dinner still needs to be cooked (chicken tagine). Pool could do with a good vacuum, but it's very windy, so it would be a bit like shovelling snow from the sidewalk while it's still snowing (the neighbour's jacarandas being the snow in this analogy). Rug could DEFINITELY do with a vacuum, although no excuse on that one, as jacaranda leaves are not blowing all the way into the living room...

Putting it out there in the public domain!

2009-09-15T16:17:00.002+10:00

Mentioning things on the WWW always seems to have the effect of causing the opposite of the status quo to happen.

Last Wednesday, I mentioned that the boys were not sitting.

Last Friday, they both started sitting. L was the sitting champ by the end of the day, and is now sitting for 10-15 minutes unaided. D is still a bit wobbly - he tends to straighten his whole body when he gets excited, but of course to sit properly, one needs to have a bit of a right angle thing happening with one's hips, so he unceremoniously falls backwards and clonks his head.

As I sit here typing this, just to give you a glimpse into the random insanity that is my day, G is taking pictures with my iPhone. A told her she was taking boring pictures (she was - of the rug), and told her to take a picture of her (A). A promptly bent over with her head in an old Huggies nappy box and stuck one leg in the air, posing for a photo.

L also started crawling in traditional fashion last Friday (big day here!). He now reaches desirable objects (i.e. scraps of paper, discarded stickers, bits of cotton still joined on to the bottom of the sofa, etc) with a combination of waterless butterfly stroke, wounded soldier and mechanical crawling baby. Very entertaining, but also a reminder that little boys apparently find toilet bowls fascinating, and he did manage to reach the door of the bathroom the other day.

Eight months old today

2009-09-09T07:49:00.002+10:00

Today is a funky date: 09/09/09! Sel is getting married today - wish I could have been there to celebrate with her and her gorgeous family. Happy Wedding Day, Sel!

Of course, today is also significant as the day the boys turn eight months old.

***********************
Dear Darcy,

You are officially an 8mo! That's two thirds of a year. As hellish as it has seemed, at times, while we've all been stuck in the middle of it, it has actually flown.

You have come a long way in the two months since I last wrote about you. You are now, for the most part, happy. Really happy. But also very thoughtful. You don't give away a smile easily, much less a laugh.

Daddy thinks you're a bit of a wuss. Your brother likes to pull on your ears as you both lie on the floor, and it doesn't take much to make you howl like you're being murdered! Although, with your newfound ability to move around a bit, you are getting a bit of your own back.

You are not quite crawling. You can get up on your hands and knees, and once there you can rock backwards and forwards madly (occasionally so madly that your knees jump forward, and you collapse onto your chin and chest and protest loudly). Motivation in the form of a toy placed just out of reach usually results in you howling in protest and moving further and further back away from it as you raise yourself and collapse in frustration over and over again.

You are not yet sitting unaided. This is a bit frustrating for everyone, as I am sure you would be happier sitting and playing with a pile of toys. But I know you will get there in the end. You are just doing things at Darcy pace!

You have discovered the joys of lying in your cot chatting to your toys. You have a few things in your cot: a colourful musical clown and and octopus who hang together from one side; a Fisher Price Ocean Wonders aquarium (c.2003); a jitterbug hanging from the other side; your Selina Bellarina lamb; your personalised lamb blankie; and Melman, your blue and white giraffe. Unless you are really tired when I put you to bed, you now prefer to lie on your back and chat to your friends and look around the room for a while before you go to sleep. I sometimes hear you chatting, or singing, through the monitor, and it brings a smile to my face - moreso when I remember how unhappy you were for the first half-year of your life, and compare that to the happy, contented boy you are now.

You have started to vocalise. Your first sound was a gargle (perhaps I should start teaching you French?), and this was quickly followed by "mummummummummmmm." I am under no illusion that you are talking either to or about me, but it sounds cute, and you love it when I say it back to you - it makes you grin in your big, toothless, squinty-eyed fashion.

In a few short months, you will be celebrating your first birthday. But I am determined to enjoy you as you are now, as it is such a wonderful age - the joy you get out of little things like seeing a cat on a wall, hearing a song, or playing peek-a-boo with your big sisters. All too soon you will be following in your sister Z's footsteps and climbing onto the coffee table to dance, so I shall be thankful for small, non-mobile mercies!!!

Love you, my sweet little sooky-boy,
from Mummy

*************

Dear Leo,

Two thirds of a year have passed since you were born. This makes you 8 months old. And what a funny little creature you are now!

You grew two teeth when you were 6.5mo. This was a big shock to your family, who have never had a child teethe before 7.5mo. You look very cute with teeth, however, and often have a huge grin on your face, allowing everyone to admire them.

You have also learned to move. I won't say crawl, but that is what it equates to! After weeks of raising yourself up on your feet and hands (effectively doing a baby version of push-ups), you mastered the art of waterless butterfly stroke, and that is how you first learned to move around. Not long after you mastered this, you added a new dimension - the one-sided commando crawl. You drag yourself along with your left forearm, looking like a battle-wounded soldier trying to retreat to the trenches. You seem to have found a combination of swimmer and soldier the most effective method of perambulation. Last night, you discovered the wonderful ability to raise one hand off the floor while on hands and knees, and took a few tentative shuffles forward in what most closely (so far) equates to a classic crawl. It will be interesting to see how you choose to move around today!

You had your first illness in this past month. Both you and your brother had horrible, long-lasting colds, which came with copious quantities of green snot, conjunctivitis and inability to sleep due to horrible snuffling and coughing. You had the added bonus of a fever that waxed and waned over several days, and made you utterly miserable. (The problem with being a sleep-deprived mummy is that "utterly miserable" does not necessarily engender as much sympathy as it ought. It occasionally leads to Nurofen and bed at inappropriate hours, just for some peace. I am assuming you neither remember this nor are scarred for life by it. At least, I'm hoping...)

Your favourite toy at the moment is the key for the TV cabinet. It hangs from the handle by a used-to-be-white-but-is-now-grotty-from-many-filthy-kiddy-hands ribbon, and is perfectly positioned at crawling baby height. You make a beeline for it whenever you are on the rug, and spend ages just gnawing on it.

You have learned to "speak." Your favourite sound is one that sounds suspiciously like "Hey-yeeeeeee!" You say it with great delight, and you can be very loud. You still haven't lost your ability to squeal like a stuck pig, but it is more easily forgiveable now that you have so many redeeming features!

You slept through the night a couple of times in these last two months. Your brother had been sleeping through first, but he managed to forget how, while you discovered how. Then illness blew it all out the window. But you are much better at sleeping than you were pre-Tresillian. You even self-settle (we cheat by allowing you a dummy, and now that you can crawl, you can find your own dummy if you wake up during the day!).

It won't be long until you are a marauding one-year-old. But I am not wishing that time away. I am enjoying the last stages of your babyhood, as my forever-baby grows up too quickly.

Love you, little monkey,
from Mummy

It's breakfast time

2009-08-25T17:55:00.003+10:00

It's 10am. The boys are waiting patiently for their breakfast.

Mummy is making their usual - porridge with yoghurt.

Mummy is also making herself something!

And after stuffing their faces, the boys are happy!

Hear that? No? That's the sound of sleeping babies!

2009-08-02T09:04:00.005+10:00

Yes, that's right, I have sleeping babies. You know, the sort that you put to bed awake, and they go to sleep, and then wake up at least an hour later, happy.

This is all down to Tresillian. I had a four-day stay which was nothing short of a miracle. I kept a diary of my stay, the first part of which I will include here. (The rest I kept as voice recordings on my new iPhone and I haven't transcribed them all yet.)

***************************
Tues 21 Jul 09

9.50am
I arrived here just before 9am. I was greeted as an old friend, and they were all incredulous that I managed to get in with the two boys (in their stroller), my big, heavy bag, my pillow, and my not-insubstantial handbag!

I was shown around straight away. The place is laid out as a square, with all the common rooms (nurseries, dining, lounges) in the centre, and the bedrooms around the outside. I have a double room (rooms 6 and 7) right up in the top left corner, so no traffic past my door.

For the first 24 hours, the nurses will be looking after the babies for sleep times for two reasons: one, to give poor frazzled Mummy a break; and two, so they can get to know the babies. They do say, though, that often babies behave really well on the first night!

As I finished that last paragraph, the nurse who was settling the boys came in to give me an update. Leo settled and went to sleep within three minutes of being put down. Darcy, being on his back, which he hates, took about 45 minutes, and that was only after being wrapped (he had been frantically clawing at his face) and patted and rocked. Poor little man – I wish they’d just let them go down on their tummies and use an apnoea monitor. It would have been a whole lot less traumatic for him.

My room has a nice big north-facing window, so I will be able to see what sort of day I’m missing out on! Today is brilliantly sunny and forecast to be 22C. Might get a Coke later and sit in the sun to imbibe.

I was lucky to get a nearby parking spot to drop everything off this morning. I moved the car about half an hour ago and have a five day pass for the carpark. Not that I’m planning on leaving, but I suppose if J wanted to visit after work, he could drive home and then back early next morning and catch the bus into the city.

1pm
I have just helped Nicole put the boys down for another sleep.

They woke at about 10.45am, so D hadn’t had much sleep at all. I fed them both in my room (L was crying in the stroller while awaiting his turn), and then we adjourned to the playroom, where the boys kept themselves entertained for a while with all the new toys.

As there was no-one else present, I was able to have my registration interview with Helen while the boys played. Lots of answering the usual health-related questions (do you smoke? any history of diabetes in the family? etc etc) and then questions about why I was here and what I wanted to get out of the stay (respectively, because they are both crappy night sleepers who feed constantly and share my bed, and a routine whereby they feed less and sleep longer in their own beds!!!).

During the interview, Nicole came and took them away individually for a check-over and weighing. Once I had them both back, they were antsy, so she suggested I take them out for a walk, but to return if either of them looked like nodding off.

They perked up on the walk – fascinated by the mundane suburban landscape of cars, houses and the occasional pedestrian. We saw an interesting little bird – black head and wings, a striped black and white belly, with a splash of bright yellow down each wing, and a little pointy beak. Will have to look it up in my bird book when I get home.

I am now about to lie down and hopefully get a short nap! If I can switch off my brain, that is.

4.30pm
Another mainly successful period. They boys both slept for 1.5 hours (D was “assisted” in rolling onto his tummy and fell asleep straight away!). They were supposed to be fed at 3pm, but woke at 2.30pm thinking they had not been fed for days, so Nicole said to just feed them. They certainly feed a lot better when they have been waiting a while.

While the boys were napping, I managed about 45 minutes of sleep myself. I’m still not relaxed enough to sleep deeply, but it was, as they say, better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.

After the boys had their feed, we had a very short play time before their food was ready. One of the nurses (Karen?) helped me get the highchairs set up in the dining room. During their stay, the boys have their own labelled highchairs and a cloth to clean up afterwards (also with their names on!).

Their meal consisted of various pureed vegetables – spinach, carrot and sweet potato, I think – as well as some finely shredded chicken. I ended up mixing the sweet potato and the spinach with the chicken, and both boys wolfed it down despite having just had a breastfeed. They were not, however, keen on the chilled apple puree. All of that (well, the couple of small mouthfuls that I gave them) ended up back on the bibs!

Aiming to keep them going till 4.30pm, we spent quite a bit of time in the playroom. D, having just yesterday perfected the art of rolling both ways, had a ball. Poor L, who invariably ends up on his belly, just kept moving away from everything he was trying to reach, as the playmat is slippery.

To make the most of the rest of the beautiful day, I took them out for a quick walk (and just happened to buy a packet of chips from the corner store), and we arrived back right on 4.30pm, so they both went straight to bed.

As I have been writing this, there has been the constant wail of a baby somewhere down the corridor. I suspect it is D. Might go and listen. Not that it is my problem today!!!

8.20pm
Phew, that was a fun session!

D woke after only an hour’s sleep (4.30-5.30) so I entertained him until 6pm, when the new nurse said it was okay to feed him. We woke L up just after that so he could have a feed, and then it was dinner time for them.

Chicken and corn soup was enjoyed and then they obligingly entertained themselves in their highchairs while I ate. (Horrid poached piece of beef with overcooked veges. The yoghurt and tinned fruit was okay. The soup was foul.)

I had quite a long chat with a coupel of the other mothers and then cleaned the highchairs up and took the boys back to our room for a bath.

Being bathed very infrequently, they are not used to, and therefore hate, baths. So we just did as we usually do: a quick once-over with a face washer, then out.

They were so adorably cute after their bath. I had dressed them both just in long-sleeved onesies, so their legs were bare. I laid them on the floor while I went to get their Zantac, and when I got back, they were squealing with delight at having access to their, and each other’s, toes!

Then the hour for bed (8pm) came all too soon, and off they went (although again they went down without a fight).

I have just wolfed down a bowl of muesli and spoken to J. Apparently Mum had something wrong with her eye, so they all spent 5 hours at Canberra Hospital. Bet that was fun for Tez, keeping a lid on three bored girls!

The boys are due for one more feed before midnight (but not before 10pm) so I am off to bed.

8.40pm
I just can’t switch my brain off. I’m lying here in the dark, by myself. It’s 8.40pm and I would really like to go to sleep. So if you can think of a way to help me switch my brain off, I’d appreciate it! I don’t have to feed the boys until at least 10, so that’s an hour’s sleep that I can get, maybe more if they sleep. And here I am, still awake. I’m sure I’ll get better at sleeping.

9.36pm
Score: 1 to Darcy and Leo, 0 to Tresillian. They were supposed to hold out for a feed until 10pm, but D woke up before 9 and they tried and tried and tried and tried, and at twenty past nine, in he came, and they said he could have a feed at that time, and then one more during the night, since they were so used to it. Leo was awake as well, although I couldn’t hear him screaming. So, I fed Darcy, then Leo came in at half past and I fed him.

Darcy was really tired, obviously because, as they put him to sleep on his back, he wakes up in a strange position. Leo came in wide awake as anything, smiling. After I finished feeding him, I took him up to the nurse because she’d just put D down, and she said something hopefully about one more feed during the night, which I scoffed at, and Leo found absolutely hilarious and chuckled loudly at (he was obviously thinking “Yeah right, I’ll be awake in an hour!”). So, anyway, they’re winning! Will be interesting to see how tonight goes.

So, I’ve resorted to a Nurofen Plus. I just can’t sleep. I’m tense, waiting for something to happen. Of course, it’s not going to, is it? Hopefully I’ll be asleep soon.

********************************

Of course, L was a little booger last night, so after a week of feeling great, I feel like shit again. D is sleeping through, so thank heavens for small mercies. One day I'll get around to updating the rest of the sleep school diary (you know, the bits where I declare that the whole process is a miracle!). It was well worth the effort, even though now we are slaves to our routine, which makes spontaneous coffee stops at friends' houses a thing of the past. At least until the boys are down to two daily naps instead of three.

But for now, I am enjoying the quiet. And knowing I have at least an hour, usually more, in which to get things done. Life is much, much better than it was. The boys are well-rested, happy and smiling. I am (for the most part) well-rested and usually smiling (or at least not screaming all day at the girls). J is back in the marital bed, after 6 months of having given up his place for the boys. I venture to say things are almost normal - as normal as they could ever be in a house with five young children!

To my boys, on the day they turn six months old.

2009-07-09T13:08:00.004+10:00

Dear Darcy,

Today you are six months old. I actually did not wake up this morning and realise what a milestone it was. It wasn't until I saw the ticker at the top of my posts on EB that I remembered!

As I type this, you are lying on your play gym, sucking the ribbons on the bottom of the jingly duck. Surprisingly, you are happy. You are cooing and "singing" (you sing a lot when you are happy - high-pitched, musical sighs).

I won't pretend that your first six month on Planet Earth have not been a challenge for your family - Mummy and Daddy in particular. You have been cursed with silent reflux. At this point, you seem to be a lot better than you were, so you have more happy times, but still not as many as I would consider normal. You don't much like lying on your back (because of the reflux, I assume), so it's pot luck whether you will be happy or not when I lie you down on the play gym after a feed.

Although you rolled over from your tummy to your back way back in April, and a few times in the month thereafter, you have stopped doing this, and still do not roll from your back to your tummy. Your Great-Auntie Glenda thinks this might be because you have spent a lot of your life in pain from the reflux, which has made you less inclined to try new things.

You have just started eating solid food. At first, you were completely against it, but now I think that was just because you have your daddy's view of food (it should taste good, and look good, and preferably contain posh ingredients) and not your mummy's (as long as it fills the tummy, and doesn't taste too foul, it is suitable). You rejected the rice cereal, even when mixed with prune juice (now, I can't imagine why!), but in two days learned how to swallow properly in order to make the most of the porridge with mango yoghurt that I offered you instead.

Your hair is still red, although out of the sunlight, it takes on a brownish tinge. Daddy and I discuss how red you will be, and whether or not you will be the first handsome red-headed male in existence. You have typical red-head skin - pale and sensitive. The tops of your ears turn out slightly, and even prompted one tactless family member to comment "Wow, Darcy's ears are big!" For the record, they are not big, and you are already the most handsome red-headed male in existence!

You like to sleep on your tummy. This is a common thing for reflux babies. Of course, it is a big no-no in the general view of baby people, as it is a known risk factor for SIDS. But when I see you sigh with relief when I place you in your cot, and watch you move your thumb to your mouth, and your eyelids droop, I know you are in a happy place. You sleep well for naps, and rarely put up a fight.

Night-times. Well, what can I say? You still think you're a newborn. Every two hours you like to be fed. And of course I oblige. However, it's getting a bit beyond a joke, so we are off to sleep school in a couple of weeks. I would really just like a few hours of sleep in a row, in order to recharge my batteries. Just a little.

You are a very thoughtful little man. Strangers have to work hard to get a smile from you, most of the time. Usually you just stare at them intently. I think it freaks people out.

And now I'm going to finish this before you turn into grumpy Darcy. It's always pot luck, and I can't believe you've let me type all this, and are still cooing away to your play gym!

Love you lots, little man,
your Mummy.

***************************************************

Dear Leo,

You are six months old today. I can't believe it when I look at you, because you are still my little boy. You are 800g lighter than your brother (at last weigh-in, courtesy of the Galettises' digital scales weighing me holding you, and then me not holding you, and ditto for your brother). Which is an improvement, as he was streaking away from you in the weight stakes, with his chubba legs and arms and tummy.

You, however, are lean! This is something new to me in the parenthood stakes, as your sisters were all chubby too. Of course, everything about you is different, so it has been a new experience parenting you altogether.

Your skin is still lovely and dark. And I have discovered something that parents of white babies are not usually aware of: dark-skinned baby boys have odd-coloured scrotums! Whenever other mothers of boys see me change you, they ask about your weird balls. Daddy and I jokingly call you Eight (you know, pool joke). We wonder where your colour comes from, and love you for it at the same time. It makes you very handsome, with your so-dark-brown-they're-almost-black eyes.

You have a curved shin bone, right down the bottom near your ankle. It is still fairly pronounced, and I am planning on asking the nurse about it next week at your six-month check-up. Maybe she won't be concerned, or maybe we'll need to see a specialist, who knows?

You are not a very good napper. You cry a lot when put to bed, unless I happen to have fed you to sleep, which I do occasionally resort to. You sleep with your zebra, Marty, and your personalised elephant blankie; sometimes you snuggle into Marty as you are going to sleep. You also have a pink dummy which goes everywhere with you. (I accidentally bought pink, as it was an automatic choice in the pharmacy, after having three older sisters.)

You have a very strange, non-human, cry. Daddy doesn't like it at all, so if you are crying like this, I have to feed you and make you happy so Daddy's brain doesn't explode! However, Daddy loves making you laugh, because you have such a deep, loud chuckle, which sounds funny coming from such a little body.

You can roll over, and do so (from your back to your tummy) at every opportunity. Unfortunately, you are not a huge fan of tummy time, so we often have to roll you back over to keep you happy (until you roll over again thirty seconds later). With your reflux (not silent like your brother's, but full of enormous quantities of regurgitated milk or, worse, the previous feed all made up into lovely stinky curds), it is not uncommon for us to pick you up from your tummy, only to find that you have laid your head down in a pile of vomit, and now have an earful and a headful of it! (Of course, if the dogs get to you first, they will have cleaned up the pile of vomit, and prevented such an occurrence. They stalk you, hoping to be rewarded with a tasty milky treat.)

You love to shove your fist into your mouth and then start talking. In fact, you prefer talking when there is something in your mouth, to when there is not. Sometimes, you shove your fist so far in that you make yourself vomit.

You love anything that resembles food, and, like your mummy, you are not fussy. Rice cereal with water or breast milk or prune juice (all of which your brother rejected), banana mashed with a bit of brown sugar (for the possible constipation issues), and porridge with mango yoghurt. Unfortunately, your forays into eating have not improved your sleeping habits.

Night-times: you are as bad as your brother. Maybe worse. It is not uncommon for you to wake for a feed every hour and a half. Mostly you do not really need the feed, but use me as a human dummy to go back to sleep. Although possibly it helps your reflux, as you are often uncomfortable at the start of a feed, but settle quickly.

You and your brother are still sleeping in bed with me (banishing Daddy to the spare room), because I cannot face the up-and-down yoyo of night feeds that you both require (or feel you deserve!). This is becoming an issue due to your ability to roll, so we're hoping that sleep school helps to get you back into your own bed at night.

You have, I think, been sleeping while I've been typing this. Perhaps you were crying for the first little bit, but your sisters are so noisy that I didn't hear anything. You are certainly asleep now, although I expect you to wake up any moment!

I love you, my little monkey,
love from Mummy

It's Wednesday again

2009-06-03T10:46:00.004+10:00

Hip hip hoo-bloody-ray!

Wednesdays are grandparent days. At 9am, Grandpa turns up to pick up all the girls. They pile into the car, and he drops A off at school before heading home with G and Z. For the whole day. They all arrive back at about 4.35pm - well, Grandpa, Nonna and Z do, after they have dropped G at ballet. They have a cuppa (Earl Grey, disgusting stuff!) and then at about 5.10pm they head out with A to drop her at ballet and pick G up and drop her home, before heading off home for dinner. The only thing I need to do is pick A up from ballet, and I leave it late enough that I don't need to get out of the car - I just pull up when all the other cars have gone, and she comes out to the car.

Ah, just in time to prevent me typing properly, L is awake. Guess I'll come back and edit this later.

Nearly 2 months since my last post

2009-05-12T12:01:00.002+10:00

Slack, slack, slack. There is no excuse - I am on the computer a lot. The only impediment would be lack of a second hand with which to type. One-handed typing drives me batty.

So in this speed post (i.e. while I have two hands and two sleeping babies), I shall point-form the last month and a half.

* Boys are now 4 months old. Darcy can roll front to back, Leo tries hard to roll from back to front and vice versa, but always just ends up in an awkward position.

* I am still breast-feeding on demand. It's a drain, but preferable to washing bottles. I am tempted to start them on solids, but I am going down to Melbourne for a week in late June, and don't want to be messing around with rice cereal and bowls and spoons and the general paraphernalia (not to mention the mess) that goes with feeding two not-quite-six-months-old babies. So I shall hold off as long as I can.

* A is enjoying second term. She has gone up two levels in reading, although she is still not at the level that Uncle P assessed her at during the holidays. She is doing fantastically at her spelling, although, like her mother, sometimes rushes through things that she knows and therefore makes a simple mistake.

* G is loving preschool and getting more and more grown-up as the days go by. She can now write her name, and various other short words like and, Anna etc. She got a glowing report from preschool. One of the few things for which she didn't get an A (the grades were A = does this all the time and is good at it (well, a more official version thereof), E = emerging - is working on this skill, and whatever the other letter was that she didn't get any of) was "Shows empathy for others" - she got an E. I cracked up - G is our cold-hearted one. Couldn't give a stuff is someone is sad or hurt. You know how you can usually get your child to give you a cuddle by pretending to cry? Not G.

* Z is also growing up. She can count objects up to 4, and sing the alphabet (although she doesn't recognise any of the letters yet). She delights in singing "Poo, R, S" instead of Q, because she knows it's wrong and that it annoys me!

* J still has a job, therefore, we can still pay the mortgage! All good.

Right, L has woken up - not antsy yet, but not far off...

Noooooooo!

2009-03-26T09:25:00.002+11:00

The other day, we were at Auntie C's having cake to celebrate my birthday (37th, since you are wondering!). Auntie M and H were there too.

Auntie C was holding D on her lap, facing towards her, and she suddenly declared, "I've worked out who he looks like! He's Peter Costello!" Of course, Auntie M went and stared at him and confirmed this, and the more they looked at him, the more they dissolved into gales of laughter.

Mummy is not impressed!

Speaking of my birthday, as I was washing up just now, I found the candle that had been put in my cake last Friday night. That is, the cake that my friend RG made - beautiful chocolate mud cake with glorious fondant icing and those sparkly silver balls that crack your teeth if you don't crack them first (although, due to lack of fridge space and a warm day, the icing and silver balls, which had been placed to form a star, had all slid off the side of the cake into a silvery-studded chocolate puddle).

Oh, but wait! The next day (my actual birthday), J went out to Croquembouche Patisserie and brought home a divine nougatine cake. So we had another round of "Happy Birthday!"

And then again on Sunday, with the passionfruit-iced sponge cake that Auntie C made.

Thinking about it like that, I am very blessed! So much cake and three lots of "Happy Birthday."

My gorgeous boys, version 5,847,369!

2009-03-25T08:13:00.003+11:00

Took this gorgeous photo of the boys the other day. I had to sepia-ize it because L was wearing a pink sleepsuit inherited from his sisters!

Video post - because it's quiet here!

2009-03-24T13:18:00.003+11:00

See here!

A photo

2009-03-07T15:26:00.001+11:00

Leo on the left, Darcy on the right.

It's a small world

2009-03-06T07:38:00.003+11:00

We have been invited for a very informal dinner at the house of one of A's schoolfriends (JS). It got me thinking about what a small world it really is, because JS's mother is the brother of a guy I used to play in a couple of bands with (and that would be concert and brass bands, not trendy bands with guitars and drums!).

But I shall start from the very beginning...

When I was little, my mum was a regular church-goer. There was a family there, the Ws, who were very active in the church. Mrs W taught Sunday School and Mr W was one of the organists. Mrs W was also a teacher, so my mum knew her in that respect too, as she (mum) did some casual teaching at the school Mrs W taught at.

By the time I started high school, Mum's church-going had tailed off, and I certainly didn't go without her. But I did recognise the W children at school: DW, who was a year ahead of me, MW, who was a couple of years ahead of that, and LW, another year older. DW and I both ended up in the school band, and by the time I finished high school, we were/had been in a few bands together.

Fast-forward to last year. It was the first week of school, A was a brand new kindergartener. There was another little girl in K, who was picked up by her grandparents. The grandparents looked familiar...turns out they were Mr and Mrs W! The little girl was JS and her mother was LW!!!

LW and I have become good friends; it helps that they live just around the corner from us, and that A and JS are good friends at school. And what struck me this morning was how odd I would have thought it if someone had said to me 20 years ago that I would be friends with DW's sister and our children would be friends at school! (Of course, I would have also thought it strange if someone said I would have 5 children, two of whom were American, and one British!)

And, similarly coincidentally, one of the boys in A's class is the son of one of my schoolfriends. And by schoolfriend I mean someone who was actually in my group of friends. Funnily enough, A is quite smitten with this boy: I asked her the other day who she thought was the prettiest person in her class (thinking of girls, of course) and she said "JO, he's so small and cute!" (I also found out the other day that he is the grandson of a quite well-known journalist, just for added interest!)

So it's an incredibly small world: three ex-PHHS students all with children in the same class at a tiny infants' school in a different part of Sydney.

Two hands, five minutes

2009-03-05T13:20:00.002+11:00

Darcy asleep in cot (hallelujah!).

Leo asleep in rocker with dummy precariously poised on lips and my foot rocking him.

Zara chatting to herself in her bed, in lieu of napping.

Grace bugging the shit out of me to do something she should be able to do herself.

Anna at school for another two hours.

I could do with more sleep.

Apparently J could also do with more sleep. He hates the mattress on the spare bed. I hate the mattress on our bed. We should swap mattresses (can't swap beds because then screaming midnight babies would wake the girls if we were all upstairs together), but the frigging behemoth of a mattress we currently have on our bed would not fit up the stairs without lots of drama. Hmm, what about I put the boys on formula and J cosleeps with them on his preferred mattress, and I disappear upstairs for an 8 hour kip?

We have a lasagne in the fridge, cooked by Uncle P, brought over by Nonna and Grandpa yesterday, and J got shitty with me because the girls don't like spinach.

I had the brainwave of putting Sustagen in the steamed milk for my coffee. Flavour not what I would like, but gives me the added protein I need. I think I should be in a celebrity mag, in a slinky dress (would have to wear my tuck-it-all-in-and-suck-it-up undies), with a caption declaring "Two months post-baby and looking fabulous!" Except, of course, I'm not a celebrity, and fabulous is all relative. I am back down to 50kg (helps to have two babies sucking it all off through my boobs). Ideally I would hang onto the last 3kg, but I am sure I will be back to 47kg as soon as I stop feeding the boys (which hopefully won't be till the end of the year).

I really should update here more often. I might do a post which condenses all my Facebook status updates once a week! I'm sure hindsight would make them interesting reading!

Thought I heard D grumping but perhaps it is a chainsaw somewhere down the road. It does my head in - I keep hearing noises that sound like screaming babies. As if the actual screaming babies were not keeping my blood pressure high enough.

The other reason I don't post much is that, despite a lot of time spent at the computer, it is mostly with one hand (while I'm feeding one baby or another). And we all know that 1ht sucks for those of us who can touch type at 80wpm.

Hmmm, I wonder if I could teach the girls to touch type? Must go and hunt down a program.

And there is my five minutes up. A bientôt!

We are all still alive

2009-02-27T15:00:00.003+11:00

Only just. I'm not sure whether the boys are my two most difficult babies, or whether their problems just seem magnified because I have to deal with both of them. Either way, it is a rough and not-terribly-enjoyable road we're all travelling.

The boys are both on Zantac, which hasn't seemed to make a lot of difference (if any) to the screaming. Darcy is impossible to settle anywhere except in the Baby Bjorn, and someone obviously forgot to remind him that, as a twin who is breastfed, this isn't entirely practical if his brother wakes for a feed! Leo will settle in the rocker as long as it is kept in constant motion (i.e. as long as Mummy is jiggling it with her foot!).

Nights are not too bad: both boys will go for three hours, occasionally four, and not require any resettling (ah, the joys of co-sleeping...). Of course, the downside to this is that J has been banished to the spare room.

So much more I could write, but typing one-handed is one of the most frustrating things I have ever had to do. I shall elaborate more when I am allowed the use of two hands, which may not be for a very...long...time...

Screaming baby!

2009-02-08T09:34:00.002+11:00

As I type this, D is screaming his little heart out in the rocker. He went through a period of doing this all the time, and the diagnosis of Dr Google seemed to be silent reflux. (Ironic, isn't it, that a disease with the word "silent" in the name, is so bloody LOUD!)

So we made an effort to keep him upright after feeds, and it seemed to help significantly.

But last night and today have been different stories. Upright, lying down on his back, lying down on his belly - none of it seems to be working (although he briefly napped on J's shoulder while the white noise of the handyvac played on the stairs). He settles when I am feeding him, but five minutes later the screaming starts again.

The other night, he started screaming about 10 seconds after I started feeding L. Since there was nothing I could do about it, and J was in bed asleep, I just let him scream, intending to feed him when L was done. Lo and behold, he fell asleep after about 10 minutes (but let me say, that 10 minutes was hell), and slept for 4 hours!!! So, in order to save a little bit of what sanity I may (or may not) have left, I have decided that 5-10 minutes of crying is worth a shot if he will fall asleep.

Ha, as I have been typing, he has been screaming while I've been jiggling the rocker with my foot. And, wouldn't you know it, he has nodded off! Possibly only for 5 minutes, but it is a welcome respite from the noise of the screaming. (When you have that constant noise in your ear, you can fully realise how people can be driven to shaking a baby. A combination of no sleep, annoyed family members, and the screaming - not exactly a recipe for a happy mummy. Not that I am anywhere near shaking my baby, just that I am being driven to distraction by the noise, so if one had a tendency to be driven to physical letting-off of steam, then the shaking thing would come into play...)

And...as predicted, he woke up again. Somehow I have managed to plug him up with a dummy and send him back off, but I fear the consequences if I stop the jiggling!

So this is part of the minutae that occupy my every waking hour (and waking hours are plentiful right now). I just lurch from one feed/change/settle to another. Doing laundry is a welcome relief from baby care, as opposed to an annoying necessity.

AAAAGGGGHHHH, the screaming just started again, and the dummy is not working. I guess I could stop jiggling, and save my cranial tibial muscle (or whatever the name of it is in humans, I know cranial is a veterinary term!).

I am milkbar, hear me roar...

2009-02-05T07:39:00.003+11:00

I never realised what an achievement it was to successfully breastfeed twins. What I mean is, everyone else thinks it's an achievement. I just think it's normal.

I had the boys weighed yesterday. They had both gained 600g in the 12 days since they were last weighed! Go me!!!

And that's about all I have time for. Story of my life right now!

Two weeks old today ~ Official due date ~ Zara's second birthday

2009-01-23T14:55:00.003+11:00

Well, we've survived two weeks of twin parenthood. Admittedly, it has been twin parenthood and not much else, as the girls have been looked after mostly by Mum. It will be a rude shock when it's suddenly just me at home with them all during the week!

The boys had their first check-up with the early childhood nurse today. It all went very well.

They have both regained their birth weights, and then some. Of course, D is a porker who is now weighing 4.05kg. L is only up 20g on his birth weight, but I was never under any illusions that Mr Chicken Legs was heading towards obesity anyway!

L also has a Mongolian spot! This is apparently very unusual in a child of anglo-saxon parentage. Cool...

The nurse agreed with me that the pain I have been suffering in my left nipple is most likely a yeast infection, so I'm on a Daktarin regimen for 14 days (assuming it starts to improve within a week). It is probably not being helped by my being on antibiotics for the residual bronchitis I still have.

All of that check-up occurred while guests were here to celebrate Z's birthday. I think she had an enjoyable time! Nonna and Grandpa, Auntie M and H, and Z's godmother and her 19mo son were all here. (Unfortunately Daddy had to work.)

Mum and I baked cupcakes and put pink frosting, sprinkles and smarties on top, and I wrote Z-A-R-A on four of them and then put them all in the shape of a 2. Was very easy to dole them out to the children after the obligatory singing of Happy Birthday.

The Birthday Fairy brought Z a Beatrix Potter 3-piece crockery set, a sun hat, a framed fairy print, a Beatrix Potter egg cup, a foam alphabet and numbers puzzle in the shape of a house, a doll's stroller, some sticker books and a t-shirt and shorts.

I have hit the wall today. Could sleep for hours. Unfortunately, I shall instead be heading to the shops to pick up meat and fruit and veg. We're having Auntie C over for dinner tonight.

And now we are seven

2009-01-15T04:00:00.002+11:00

Today marks our sixth day as a family of seven. I am typing this post at 4am whilst feeding Darcy.

Below is the story of Darcy and Leo's birth, written when they were four days old.

Friday 9 January 2009 was the day marked down in the calendar as the date I would be 38 weeks pregnant. Of course, being a twin pregnancy, I scoffed at the idea that I would actually reach that date with the babies still being in utero.

As I approached that date, my body was getting more and more drained with the effort of supporting the growing babies, both physically and physiologically, and my mind was suffering (I don’t do pain well – heck, even being hungry makes me a mean bitch!).

It was confirmed at my midwife appointment on New Year’s Eve that I would be able to come into the hospital at 8am on the 9th, ready for induction, and having a definite end-point helped enormously with the final week and a half of the pregnancy.

Although I had prelabour signs for over a week before my induction date, I never did go into labour properly! So D-Day rolled around and there I was, turning up at the hospital at 8am as scheduled, eagerly anticipating the outcome of that day.

Because it was a twin pregnancy, and the hospital prefers twins to be born during the day wherever possible, they got underway with the business stuff straight away. Twin 1’s waters were ruptured at 8.30am. I was 2-3cm dilated at that time.

Unfortunately, the rupturing of membranes did nothing to establish regular contractions, so, after getting my epidural put in place, a syntocin drip was started at 11.30am. It wasn’t set very high to start with – they just wanted to see what sort of contraction pattern was established before bumping it up if need be.

Thanks to the wonderful epidural (and the lovely fentanyl which, the anaesthetist told me apologetically would probably spill over into my bloodstream, as though it was going to be a problem having opioids floating through my brain!), I was able to rest and read my book (I am re-reading Vikram Seth’s An Equal Music after noticing the soundtrack on my iPod), despite the contractions that started up as a result of the syntocin.

My blood pressure was fine, the babies were both doing well (Twin 1 had an internal monitor, and I was lying on my left side so we could best monitor Twin 2 externally – he was always a bugger to monitor as he moved around so much), but over the two hours after the drip was started, I started to feel pressure that was bordering on painful just over my right hip, and in my lower right back. I figured it was because I was on my side, so when the midwife came back in at 1.30pm to do a cervical check (I was reading at the time, and was at an interesting part of my book, and reluctantly put it down), I mentioned this, and she suggested I lie on my back if it wasn’t too uncomfortable (it wasn’t). She asked me if I’d felt any pressure “down there”, which I hadn’t – not a jot. My left leg was completely numb and non-functional, my right leg was tingly but not numb and certainly I was able to move it as instructed by my brain!!!

I suggested just prior to the midwife checking my cervix that I might be 5cm (if I was lucky). She said she thought I would be more than that, and lo and behold it didn’t take much checking to discover that Twin 1’s head was right there crowning! Thank goodness for epidurals – as much as I had wanted a natural home birth, if I was going to have twins and be stuck in hospital, there was no way I was refusing one (even if I’d been given a choice, which I wasn’t – it was suggested I have one in case of any problems with the delivery of twin 2). And really, if you can “labour” for 2 hours from 2cm to crowning with no pain, and whilst napping or reading, why would you refuse???!!!

So, it was time to push. My contractions were not terribly close together (compared to what I remember of my other labours), so it did involve some waiting in between contractions, but after starting to push some time around 1.35pm, Darcy Owen arrived at 1.54pm. He looked and felt heavier than I expected, as he was placed on my chest, covered in vernix but looking adorable, as only a mother’s own newborn can. In the face, he was just another M________ baby, but amazingly he had blondy-red hair! Oh my goodness, a ranga in the family!

The obstetrician was very nervous about the delivery of twin 2. (I later found out that he hates doing vaginal deliveries for twins! I never realised this, as he seemed very supportive of my intention to deliver vaginally.) So he had me pushing pretty much as soon as Darcy was taken away by the paediatrician to be cleaned up and checked over.

Pushing twin 2 out was much harder. I had to work him down myself, whereas Darcy had just done all the work for me whilst I read my book! My pushing was not terribly effective; for some reason I couldn’t get into the right groove. However, I was trying my best, because of the threat of a ventouse delivery. As twin 2 moved further down, I was able to push more effectively, and at 2.11pm, Leo James was delivered. Much smaller than his brother but much feistier!!! And, more in keeping with how we expected our newborns to look, with lovely dark hair.

While the boys were cleaned and checked, the midwives delivered the fused placentas, and commented how large they were! Woo hoo, I make good placentas!

Not long after delivery, I started to feel somewhat less than ordinary. I had a headache, and was feeling nauseous. To be honest, I was actually feeling so bad that I wasn’t much fussed on what was going on with the boys. My blood pressure was checked and found to have spiked at 150/94 (I think, something like that anyway), as a result of the medications they’d given me to keep the contractions going and to help deliver the placenta.

I was given maxalon and managed to survive the next hour or so having various bits and pieces removed from me – the epidural line, one of my cannulas, and all the horrible sticky bits of stuff that hold all that in (I hate that bit most of all!). As they were trying to flush one of my cannulas, it was quite painful, and I just burst into tears and sobbed for ages (it wasn’t that painful, I was just feeling dreadful enough that it was the straw that broke the camel’s back).

After an hour or so, the effects of the medications had worn off, and my blood pressure was back to normal. I was starting to feel more human.

The boys, meanwhile, were being weighed. Darcy tipped the scales at a remarkably hefty 3.65kg (8lb 1oz), and Leo at a lesser but still respectable 3.2kg (7lb 1oz). Everyone was marvelling at how my little 47kg frame managed to lug around so much weight in babies, and wondering how much bigger they would have been if we’d waited till I went into labour spontaneously!

I stayed in hospital for as little time as possible. Since Australian hospitals don’t seem to have nurseries in their regular post-natal wards, I was stuck with caring for 2 babies around the clock, whilst still suffering with pelvic and back pain, and then with shocking after pains on top of that. Justin was able to stay overnight, and help out with settling, but I harassed the staff to be discharged early on the Midwife Support Program, and was home by 11am on Sunday.

The boys are now 4 days old. They sleep a lot of the day, and keep me up all night, but I know we’ll get through that part of it. My body is slowly recovering, although it has been a much slower process than with my other deliveries. My abdominal muscles are very badly separated and I will require physiotherapy to deal with that, and in the meantime I have to be very careful not to put too much strain on my back.

The girls are in love with their brothers (smotheringly so at times), and are willing to help out when asked.

My mum is staying to help out with the girls, which is a godsend. Justin went back to work on Monday, because his boss’s wife gave birth to their third child on Sunday afternoon! He has tomorrow off, and then will take two weeks off once school goes back. Mum will go home then, but possibly come back for a couple of weeks when Justin goes back to work after his break.

And, in a case of immaculate timing, as I finish this account of their birth, Darcy is stirring…back to the milk bar…

Last day as a family of five

2009-01-08T14:26:00.002+11:00

With my induction scheduled for 8am tomorrow, I was planning a quiet day of resting and napping today. Of course, it didn't eventuate - we all ended up at the Fair (me and the girls, and Mum and Dad and Auntie M, and cousin H). Then back at Auntie M's house for lunch, for which Auntie C joined us!

After spending the last two and a half weeks wondering every night if I would be in hospital by the morning (I have had prelabour every night except perhaps for 1), it seems weird that it is going to be so orderly. I shall just get up in the morning, have a bowl of muesli and and iced coffee, and then drive to the hospital. No exciting "Ooh, I am in labour!" moment. I will have five children, and have only had ONE of those moments.

One thing I'm looking forward to is having visitors. Quite a few people have expressed a wish to visit if I want visitors. I figured I would probably be more than a little bored on Saturday, so said the more the merrier! When I had A, the only visitors I had were Mum and Dad. When I had G, Mum visited, and I think three of my playgroup friends visited together. And then when I had Z, I just had one visitor. Admittedly, my best friend in the US had no family there either, so no babysitters for her children (non-sibling children were not allowed to visit).

I am hoping to be home on Sunday. This would be under the early discharge program, which means a midwife would visit me at home daily for approximately a week after discharge. Sounds brilliant!

Looking forward to getting some final pictures of the five of us tonight, and one more shot of this giant belly!

Happy New Year (a little late)

2009-01-02T08:02:00.002+11:00

I can't believe it's 2009. A new year always makes me stop and think about how you can never get time back again. Never again will it be 2008. Never again will A be in Kindergarten. Never again will Z be my baby. You know, that sort of silly thing that you know subconsciously but never acknowledge.

The girls enjoyed Christmas, which started on Christmas Eve with lunch at my cousin's. Christmas Day involved very informal brunch with my parents and sisters and BIL and nephew, at our place, followed by lunch at J's parents' place. The girls got way too much from the ILs. We came home with four bags of presents, one of which was one of those enormous carry bags you get from department stores for really big items. I have yet to sort everything out - the front room looks like Santa's factory still!

Had a lovely start to this week. Had a coffee on Monday morning with Auntie C at Camellia Gardens for her birthday, then dropped the girls off at the ILs', where they stayed the night and didn't come home until Tuesday evening! And then A and G spent the day at A's friend M's place on Wednesday. Z and I had some mummy and baby bonding time!!!

Unfortunately, as relaxing as two days without children sounds, I'm now at the point where even napping is not happening so well. On Monday afternoon, I started having some weird contractions, so J and I decided we would head up to the hospital, given we didn't have the children to worry about. Although the contractions were real, and I was 2cm dilated, nothing was actually "happening", as evidenced by the fact that I was still 2cm two hours later, so I chose to come home. Every day since then I have been having the same contractions on and off throughout the day, and worst in the evenings. So frustrating, as I have never had prelabour before.

Finally got some gist of my last u/s (which was on 22/12) whilst I was in the hospital. L's growth has slowed down. So I need to schedule another u/s for early next week (which can't actually happen - the scheduling - until next week, because, even though the hospital has booking clerks on during the holidays, they appear to not be doing any booking... I questioned whether the u/s was really necessary, given I am going in for induction on Friday anyay, but apparently it is a CYA thing, so they want me to have it done. They may bring forward the induction by a couple of days if indicated.

But at this stage, 8am on Friday 9/1 will be the start of things! It is only a week away. What seemed like a distant even is now looming quickly. I just wish I could get some sleep in the meantime. I am exhausted with all this prelabour, and the need to wee at least 5 times a night!

Random belly shots...

2008-12-20T17:12:00.005+11:00

I thought I'd include my three most recent shots. Seeing these pictures makes me (a) realise why twin pregnancy is so much more uncomfortable than a singleton pregnancy, and (b) wonder why my back doesn't hurt. Which it doesn't, by the way. It's the first thing people ask when they see these pictures! My back hurt more during my singleton pregnancies.

Anyway, here they are: 25, 30 and 34 weeks respectively. And the fourth shot is a 38 week one from my previous pregnancy, just by way of comparison. Apologies for the crappy formatting, I wish it was WYSIWYG.

Too tired to post properly

2008-12-15T09:45:00.002+11:00

But thought I should type something!

Have some sort of sore throat/chest cold thingy going on, so not only am I exhausted but also feeling like shit. For those who have never been pregnant or otherwise lacking in function abdominal musculature, coughing without the aid of abs is a nightmare.

Am having a quiet day in with the girls today, so I can have early lunch and a long nap before picking A up. If I can last till lunch time...

Spent another night in hospital on Friday night. Another false alarm, but at 34 weeks they decided there was no need to give me any meds, so I came home on Saturday morning feeling not too bad. But I am now having doozy contractions pretty much every night. I just have to keep thinking positive - that they are getting things ready, but that the boys are staying in longer in order that they will be healthy when they arrive and not require SCN. Please just hope I don't have Christmas Day babies! They'll already be sharing birthdays with each other, I doubt they'd be too happy to be sharing one with Jesus as well!

She's just an airhead!

2008-12-11T13:19:00.002+11:00

A couple of weeks ago, when my mum was staying here, we noticed that A didn't seem to be hearing a lot of what we said. She used to be like that on and off, off with the fairies, in her own little world. But this time it was really noticeable.

So I made an appointment with an audiologist. I didn't really think there would be a problem because her teacher had said she hadn't noticed anything untoward. But I figured I should rule out a hearing problem before yelling at her for not listening to me!!!

Saw the audiologist today, and, as suspected, her hearing is perfect! Cheeky booger. So I have to put the whole not-hearing thing down to being an Aquarian.

Lots of little things dragging my mood down at the moment (besides the two big things dragging my belly down):

* One of the dogs has flea allergy dermatitis, despite being on regular Frontline.
* I need to get to the post office to post Christmas cards, but the thought is daunting.
* I have 3 baskets full of folded laundry to put away, but no ability to carry them to where they need to be (note to self: ask J to carry them to the appropriate room tonight).
* J is worried about his job. So much so that I have been on the phone to Centrelink to find out how much assistance we would get if his income disappeared.
* I hate not being organised, and not knowing when these babies are going to arrive is doing my head in. Someone started a thread on EB about NYE plans, and I had to list 4 different scenarios based on when the boys would be here! (For the record, the scenarios were: (1) Stay at home, heavily pg, whingeing about how uncomfortable I am; (2) Be in hospital with two healthy newborns; (3) Be at home but with two babies in special care in hospital owing to early arrival; or (4) Be in labour!)

The good news is that I am 34 weeks tomorrow, and this puts me only a month away at most from the boys' arrival. I figure if I have my regular appointment at 38 weeks on the dot, I can request an induction for the following Monday, which will be 12/1. Nicely splitting the time between G's birthday on the 4th and Z's on the 23rd! Hmmm, I wonder if I could be booked in for this date anyway, and not have to get to 38 weeks to book it in...

Off to the antenatal clinic this afternoon for my second anti-D shot. Then to the ILs' place to pick up G and Z, and then to Auntie M's place to hang out with her and H until we all go and meet Auntie C for dinner. (I forgot we were having dinner out when I decided to splurge on the chicken tikka roll I just ate for lunch!)

Twin boys and tragedy

2008-11-25T14:31:00.002+11:00

The author of my favourite blog is known (or notorious, depending on which circles you frequent) for the decision she (and her husband) had to make regarding her twin pregnancy, when she was (I think) 22 weeks. Anyway, the story is here.

When I first found out our babies were both boys, it never even clicked that I had anything in common with Cecily. It was actually several weeks before it dawned on me, and only then because she had spoken about her boys in one of her posts. Then I felt awful, not for me, but for her, because by that point, I was way past 22 weeks.

I have recently been adding friends on Facebook from my original online mothers' group, way back in the says when SheKnows was known as epregnancy and Geoparent. One of the ladies I really liked, but who had left our private group quite a while ago, had had twin boys (the same age as A), but lost one of her boys (Simon) at 6 months to RSV. Anyway, I "discovered" her the other day on Facebook, and added her to my friends list, and saw a gorgeous photo of her 3 children. But it just made me sad, because I kept thinking of Simon.

And just this morning, I opened my internet browser to news of the drowning and near-drowning of twin boys in their backyard pool. Twin boys. Is there something about twin boys? One of the twin-boy mums on EB says that they are very good at egging each other on, in situations where one boy would probably have pulled up stumps and gone home. I can just imagine it. My girls are neither boys nor twins and still do that with each other at times.

So now, I am remembering to count my blessings. Several times a day. Sometimes I think I'm too complacent about pregnancy in general, and twin pregnancy especially. Maybe I'm not appreciating it enough?

Anyway, my ultrasound yesterday was boringly, blessedly normal. D is measuring a tad over 2000g, and although I didn't ask what L was, he is apparently growing well and on track for dates, so I suspect he is about 1800g.

As I was leaving the u/s, I realised that I only have one more (official) u/s before the boys arrive! As far off as January seems right now, I guess it's not really. In four weeks, it will be two days before Christmas, I will have had my last scan, and all will be a chaos of wrapping paper and last minute shopping. Then, before we know it, Christmas will be over, the house will be quiet again, and it will be less than a week until the new year. Then it will be 2009 and suddenly I will be a mother of five (albeit an insane one!), looking forward to January birthdays and the new school year.

That is, providing I am one of the lucky ones, and actually get to bring my twin boys home, and raise them to adulthood and enjoy their company for many, many years.

Rest in peace, Nicholas, Zachary, Simon, and Ethan.

You'd think I would have learned...

2008-11-21T15:58:00.002+11:00

...now that I'm in my fourth normal pregnancy, that a routine appointment will result in nothing more than, "BP is great, babies are great, see you next time."

Yes, that was again my exciting visit to the midwife today.

I did get the dubious pleasure of a Pythonesque conversation about my due date, though! The midwife didn't actually have my file, because I hadn't been put in the appointment book (even though at my last visit, the midwife I saw then had written a date and time in my appointment card, which is the only reason I was there, because there is no way I'd remember when my appointments were without the card!). So all she had to go on was my details from the sticker on my appointment card (which also, of course, has all the basic exam details from my visits).

The sticker on my appointment card was made when they were going by my LMP to determine my due date. They made a big fuss at my first visit (ironically with the same m/w I saw today) about how I wouldn't actually be due on that date if my cycles are longer than 28 days, which my file says they are. At which point I explained that I knew my due date was later than calculated but every time I mentioned it, it was ignored. In other words, I politely said "No shit, Sherlock."

So they officiously decided to read all the early ultrasound reports to determine my most likely due date. Which they did, and settled on a much more accurate (in my opinion!) date, even though it was only five days later than originally thought.

Anyway, without my file, they don't know this, and obviously my word is not sufficient, so the note she made on the extra piece of paper to be put in my file when they get hold of it said "Confirm EDC, unsure." WTF? Why is it that a woman who is pretty clued in to what her cycles are doing and can tell you "I ovulated on such-and-such a day and my luteal phase is x days long" is not believed when she says "THIS is my due date, based on ovulation and cycle length." (Even when early ultrasounds support her date!)

Sigh. Then m/w tells me I need to come back next week, and I need to see the registrar, because it's getting on and I need to see the registrar twice at least. Yeah, well, the registrar was supposed to be there at my last appointment and wasn't, so it's hardly my fault, you dolts.

Impatient pregnant lady brain appears to have taken over here...they are not dolts, they are lovely, but sheesh, they could get a freaking sense of humour!!!

I may be up to weekly appointments now. I suppose that will make things move a bit more quickly.

Clothes pegs and other trivia

2008-11-21T08:57:00.002+11:00

I am still shaking my head that I felt compelled to reply to a thread on EB about clothes pegs! I need a life.

In case you're interested, someone had recommended Ikea pegs as far superior to regular clothes pegs. The implication was that regular ones rot and break after two months in the sun.

I had to defend the humble Aussie clothes peg, because mine have travelled the world for six years and are still nowhere near dying (the ones I bought in the USA, on the other hand...).

A had her school picnic and disco last night. It was unfortunate that the weather had been stormy on and off all day, because this meant they had to make the call to have it in the local church all, rather than in the school grounds. (The minister at the local Anglican church, which is a block from the school, is married to a girl I went to high school with, and they have five children, two of whom are at the school currently.)

The disco was a huge success. G literally spent all evening (it went from 5.30-7.30pm) on the dance floor, aside from the twenty minutes that was assigned to eating dinner (more on that later). A also spent the whole evening dancing. Z was a bit overwhelmed by the noise of it all - think echoey floor-boarded church hall with big disco speakers and you'll understand why! In the end, though, she did get up for a bit of a boogie - doing the chicken dance with Mummy.

What would have been a lovely relaxed picnic spread for all turned out to be a twenty-minute rush job. Imagine having just twenty minutes to spread out a blanket, serve up sausage sandwiches and potato salad and drinks to three children and two adults, not to mention dessert, eat it, and then pack it all up again!!! So that side of things wasn't as good as it could have been, but nonetheless, the disco was what the kids were all hanging out for, so no need to take too long over extraneous things like eating dinner!

And now the usual pregnancy ramble...

I had a busy day yesterday. "Take it easy" was not part of yesterday's vocabulary.

The most urgent matter that needed attending to was the pool. It is the height of jacaranda season, and J has been scooping the purple flowers off the surface every evening when he gets home (he literally gets about three full pool-scoops of the stuff). However, the bottom of the pool really needed attacking with the vacuum. So I offloaded Mum and the girls to Auntie M's house, and trotted off to the pool shop to pick up a new filter basket (the previous one exploded under the weight of all the jacaranda flowers that fell in the pool after J had cleaned the surface and turned the filter on).

On the way home, I dawdled around Roselands, managing to pick up Myer and Angus & Robertson vouchers for the girls for Christmas and birthday presents from Grandma Ollie, as well as some groceries, and look for some stuff from Lincraft for a friend. I realised that an hour wandering around a shopping centre takes on a whole new meaning when one has 7lb+ of baby belly hanging off one's front!

So, no rest for the wicked. I got home and vacuumed the pool. My EB friends have been warning me "No vacuuming!" but this wasn't the carpet, okay, it was the pool. That's different. Felt compelled to stop when a lovely storm came up, and I realised I was standing there holding a long metal pole. Thankfully, I was just about done, so a vast improvement in the state of the pool had already occurred. (It is probably back to its old shabby self this morning though; all it takes is a gust of wind for a purple snowstorm to end up floating on the surface.)

Looks like a lovely day is in store for those of us in Sydney today. Which for our household involves four loads of laundry being hung on the line, and hopefully a nice relaxing play in the backyard for the girls.

Oh, and I'm off to the midwife at 10.40am. For more boring, same-old-same-old, "Wow you're so healthy!" (Which I can't complain about, I suppose.)

Oh, the drama!

2008-11-19T12:47:00.001+11:00

Goodness me, it's been a crazy, crazy week and a bit. I should have updated daily as I had the opportunity, but now of course I have left it all too late, and will have to write a mammoth entry and try not to forget all the intricate details! I'm going to date the parts diary-style, to make it a bit easier to follow.

Tuesday 11 November 2008

Woke up feeling icky. Just trapped gas, mainly (yeah, TMI! but what can you expect from a heavily pg woman?). But really felt rotten.

Managed to get through the day, which involved a double trip to swimming - G in the morning, A in the afternoon. This is usually not a drama, but the driveway down to the pool is uber-steep, and really did NOT go down well with me that day.

After I got back from G's lesson, I was having some frequent Braxton Hicks contractions (apparently now called tightenings - it must have something to do with not naming medical things after people any more, they were going off this when I was doing my vet degree, e.g. Fallopian tubes are now called uterine tubes, at least in the vet world...). So I called the midwife to see what her suggestion would be.

She recommended that if they were more than 3 in half an hour that I should come in to the hospital to be monitored. Given that Tuesdays are the one day I have no back-up babysitting (ILs have bridge, Auntie M works, my friend L around the corner also works), I decided I would rest and see what happened.

The tightenings did abate somewhat, but the second trip to swimming set them off again.

J was home on time and we managed to have dinner at a reasonable hour (for once!), and while he played outside with the girls after dinner, I had a bath to see if I could get the tightenings to stop. Unfortunately, they got worse. So I trundled out of the bath and asked J to drop me at the hospital. I let the midwife know we were coming, and we all piled into the happy bus and headed to Kogarah.

At the hospital, Tuesday evening 8pm

It seemed reasonably quiet. Either way, I was seen straight away, and hooked up to the CTG. Definite tightenings. I was somewhat dehydrated too (I really hadn't eaten or drunk much during the day because I was feeling so icky). However, cervix was doing nothing (excellent news!), so they really didn't think the tightenings would amount to anything.

Still, they had to treat me as though something might actually happen! I had a bag of IV fluids (for rehydration), IV erythromycin (in case I was Group B Strep positive), and nifedipine to stop the tightenings. I also had the first of two steroid shots in my arse, to mature the boys’ lungs just in case. It was about 9pm by this stage.

I was 29 weeks at this point. Too early to deliver at St George, because they do not have a level 3 NICU. They take women 34 weeks and later, although I was told that if the babies are a good size, then possibly 33 weeks…

Even though they didn’t really expect anything would happen, they wanted to make sure that I was in the right place if it did. So they started calling around the hospitals with Level 3 NICUs to see who might have a bed. I was warned that it could be as far away as Nepean Hospital or John Hunter in Newcastle!

While we were waiting to hear back about a bed elsewhere, I was visited by two neonatologists (at least, I think that’s their official title – they were the doctors who would look after premature babies at St George), who explained that if I wasn’t able to be transferred, and delivery was imminent, they would page a baby rescue team, who would come in and stabilise the babies prior to transferring THEM to a level 3 NICU.

It didn’t take long to confirm that I had a bed at Liverpool Hospital. Although snob value got the better of me at first (I didn’t get to head to the Eastern suburbs, I had to go west!), it turned out to be the much better option in terms of J travelling back and forth, as it was not far off the M5. I was transferred there by ambulance, accompanied by a midwife from the Hurstville STOMP team.

Tuesday-Wednesday 11-12 November 2008

The whole monitoring process was repeated once I was admitted to the delivery ward. I had had a second dose of nifedipine in the ambulance, and had a third whilst I was being monitored. (This is the initial treatment regimen. The drug is then given for maintenance every 6 hours.)

By this stage, stuck lying on my back for over an hour, I was crying. I was tired and very, very sore. Eventually I buzzed the midwife on the pretence (although it wasn’t really pretence in the end) of needing to go to the loo. She realised I’d been on the CTG long enough and I was able to come off it. Hallelujah! Still having tightenings, but they were settling down a little bit.

After that, I was left alone until 6am, and managed fitful bursts of sleep for the 5 hours I had no monitoring.

Wednesday 12 November 2008

Was back on the CTG at 6am. I had only the occasional tightening overnight, but the minute I was on my back for the CTG, they started up again. I pointed this out to the midwife! (What I mean was, I pointed out that they started when I was on my back and went away when I was able to lie on my side. I didn’t need to point out the tightenings to her, they were well and truly obvious on both the CTG and just from touch.)

Managed to see a resident/registrar that morning, who gave me the run-down: have to stay in until the tightenings have stopped for 24 hours. Will be transferred to post-natal ward as soon as a bed is available, and will have an ultrasound to check on the babies.

In other words, lots of thumb-twiddling. J came in to spend a bit of time with me, and hung around till I went for the ultrasound at 3pm.

The ultrasound was the highlight of my stay! Got to see D and L again, and they were looking so much like little babies instead of foetuses. In one view in particular, L was sitting with his knees tucked up towards his chin and his arms wrapped around his knees – so cute! J couldn’t for the life of him work out what was what on the ultrasound, so I don’t think the experience was as thrilling for him.

Apart from everything looking absolutely fine, we were also able to get estimates of their weights. I can’t remember what they estimated D to be, although I know it was 3lb something, and it was more than L, who was weighing in at 3lb 9oz (1618g). So their growth was absolutely fine, and in fact D was measuring bigger than dates, which, although not so good for my poor old back, augured well for him if he ended up on the outside sooner rather than later.

J left after the ultrasound, and I was moved down to the post-natal ward. I ended up sharing a room with a woman from the country who was in for the same thing, although she was 33 weeks and only had a singleton on board.

I had my second steroid shot that evening. Didn’t hurt as much as the first one! I was anticipating horrendous pain and was getting quite agitated (which is unusual for me regarding needles etc, as usually I am very calm and easy). Turned out to be a non-event!

Thursday 13 November 2008

Even more thumb-twiddling. My CTG that morning showed no tightenings. I was still having the nifedipine and erythromycin (orally).

I had been told I would be okay to go if there were no more tightenings, but of course that was contingent upon seeing a doctor. Which didn’t happen until J and my roommate both kicked up a fuss about the fact that it was 3pm and we still hadn’t seen one. (Roommate had an 8 hour drive home, so she’d been hoping to leave by midday.)

I also asked the nurse why I was still on the nifedipine, and she said she had no idea. The big problem was that I had to be off it for 6 hours before I could be discharged (I guess to make sure the tightenings didn’t return?). I had had my last dose at midday, so 6pm was my magic time! I have never been so glad to leave anywhere in my life. I was exhausted from lack of sleep, and looking forward to a decent meal and a sleep in my own bed.

Friday 14 November 2008

Auntie M and H came over to spend the day looking after the girls whilst I literally did nothing.

I felt like death warmed up. Apparently, though, this was the effect of the nifedipine and the steroids. I felt like I was bruised all over, and the exhaustion that I felt was incredible. I couldn’t lie down, because that actually started up the tightenings, so I was semi-reclined on the sofa all day. Getting to the bathroom was a marathon effort which took me quarter of an hour to recover from. I was seriously scared that either the boys were still planning an early escape, or that I was going to feel like that for another 8 weeks.

Saturday 15 November 2008

I didn’t feel any better. Another night of hourly waking because I would have a tightening every time I turned over (and then of course realise I needed to do a wee).

By the time J was due to pick A and G up from a party they had gone to, I decided I needed a ride in the car. That was no fun either. I was miserable.

Sunday 16 November 2008

Was feeling slightly better. Moving around was easier and I had had less tightenings overnight. The interesting thing was that since I’d been in hospital, my pelvis hadn’t hurt at all. I was curious, but not complaining!

J had gone to pick up a ladder from his parents, and they came over when he came back. MIL read stories to the girls, while J and FIL fixed the tiles on the roof. Then my parents arrived just prior to lunch, so there really were plenty of hands to do all the work!

Dad didn’t stay long (not even for lunch) and headed back to B_________. ILs left when the tiling repairs were done (not long after lunch). Mum settled in for her two-week nannying stint!

My trip out for that day consisted of going with J to the lighting store and choosing some new lights for the living room. That was enough to exhaust me. Have you any idea how depressing it is when you can’t even do one tiny little task without collapsing in a heap? I think I would crumble under the weight of a chronic illness. I am mentally a wuss.

Monday 17 November 2008

Feeling remarkably improved. Even able to make myself a cup of coffee.

The day went downhill quickly after that!

I noticed Jem had some dermatitis on the back of one of her legs, so decided to bathe her. That was all done, and I had put all the dogs outside, and they had (so I thought) gotten over the usual posturing that goes on between the two bitches every time one of them has something done to her. Then all of a sudden they’re at it. Fighting. Of course, Mum had never seen them fight, so she was hysterical, which set G and Z off crying and screaming. I was trying my best to do my usual hold of one of them, so that the minute they loosened their grip on each other I could swing the one I was holding up over my head and keep them separated. Problem was, I had no strength to lift her, so they managed to reattach twice before I was eventually able to keep them separated.

I hosed them both off and checked their wounds (nothing out of the ordinary – Jem had the usual puncture wounds on her leg, Scout had the usual on her face…), dosed them with antibiotics and antiinflammatories and kept an eye on them. Did I mention I was exhausted?!

The day passed without incident until A arrived home from school. I had gone out to sit on the front step and wait for her and Mum and G to get back, and so as we all came back into the house, it was a whirlwind of people and schoolbags etc in the hallway. As I turned to walk through into the dining room, I whacked my left foot straight into the doorjamb. You know how normally you maybe just catch your little toe, hop around a bit swearing, and then walk away? Uh-uh. Not this time. I managed to catch all 4 toes bar the big one, and it fucking hurt. A lot. I couldn’t put my foot down, but then neither could I hop in my unbalanced, giant-bellied state. Somehow I managed to get to my armchair, and sat down to look at my toes.

Hmm, fourth toe seems somewhat at a different angle to usual… Yep, definitely not at the right angle. Thankfully it wasn’t too displaced, just very slightly twisted, so I called the doctor’s surgery, who advised ice and rest, and taping it to the third toe.

So, with my toes taped up, we all managed to hobble off to ballet! What a day!

Tuesday 18 November 2008

Toe much better but pelvis back to its painful worst. Not only the pelvis but also my back. I put the back thing down to the whole dog saga, and doing much more lifting that I should have normally been doing.

I realised that my pelvis pain was related to the way I rolled over in bed. Normally (when not pg, and even when pg and not enormous), I tend to lift myself up as I roll over, so that I land in the same spot but facing the opposite direction. It’s why I don’t take up much bed space! When I’d been having the tightenings in bed, I had been too sore to turn over like that, and had just been rolling normally from side to side. Now that I had started lifting myself again, the pelvic pain was back.

Anyway, sore pelvis and sore back, and I was not a happy camper yesterday. Did manage to chauffeur Mum and the girls to swimming, and do a very small shop at Coles.

And now to today…

The girls are at the ILs’. Mum has gone to Miranda shopping. I am home alone. And after that marathon effort, I am very hungry.

Pelvis and back still not happy, but slightly improved over yesterday.

Boys still happily practising their circus routines in utero.

I have been a horrible mummy to the girls since I got home. A has been very trying (even for my patient mother), with lots of answering back and arguing. She does it in the nicest possible way – you ask her to do something, and she has a fancy long-winded excuse as to why she can’t or will do it later, or will do it but not the way we’ve asked, etc etc. It reached the point yesterday morning where I actually whacked her on top of her head with her readers!

And G went to bed last night in tears because while she was giving me a cuddle goodnight, she decided to lift her feet off the floor and hang from my neck. The sudden weight pulled my back out right where it was already sore, and I lost it. She seems to have forgiven me this morning.

And Z’s latest popular word is No. Way too many times a day when the answer should be yes or okay!

Right, sustenance required so I shall leave it there. I’m up to date.

The Language Explosion

2008-11-10T08:15:00.003+11:00

This will be familiar to most parents. You spend ages wishing your toddler could actually talk, and then they start...and never shut the fuck up!

Z was a slow talker by the standards her elder sister set. At 18mo she still wasn't really saying anything, not even "mum" or "dad." But by 19mo, oh boy!

And now she's 21mo, and has an incredible vocabulary and an incredible memory. I shouldn't be surprised about the memory, though. All my girls (and I assume, therefore, all toddlers) have had this: the ability to come out with some memory that you thought was totally inconsequential and/or totally off their radar.

Z did it to me last night. She saw the picture of G that I have on my desktop, one taken after we had been to Kiama for the day (first Monday in October!), and she had had a butterfly painted on her face. Z pointed and said "Gay-ghee!" (her name for G), then "buh-fly...paint...lady...amma!" I asked, "Hammer?" "No, amma!" I realised she was trying to say "Kiama." OMG. WTF sort of weird toddler remembers the name of a place they went to a month ago?

But, you know what? I love that this is the third time I've been through this toddler stage, and I still love it! Listening to new words pop out, listening as she tries to put words together (she is starting to count, but usually it ends up just being "one...two...two...two..."). She is even getting the hang of please and thank you, and the other day when she asked for milk without a please, and Daddy said no (not because she hadn't said please, but for some other reason I can't remember), she tried, "Please, please, please?" just in case that was going to work.

On a different note, I took some pictures for this year's Christmas card. None of them the perfect picture, but we settled for the following:

I can't get over how little G has changed from last year's picture, or A for that matter:

And, as I have said on my EB signature, it's our last all-pink Christmas card picture. Next year, we'll have to go a unisex colour!!!

From last week...

2008-11-02T19:02:00.001+11:00

New heights of teary emotional pregnant lady ridiculousness

2008-11-02T16:50:00.003+11:00

Anyone who has been pregnant, or known well someone who has been pregnant, or has been or still is married to someone who is or has been pregnant, will know what I mean when I mention those teary moments that occur at the most random (and usually non-tear-inducing) things.

Well, today took the cake for me. I went to Mass alone. Thought it would be blissful to just have me to worry about, but in all honesty I missed the girls! There were families all around me, and I felt like shouting "Hey, I have children too!" (I get like that when out shopping without them. Like having a stroller or child is some sort of status symbol. Dumb.)

Anyway, I usually sing the hymns I know, because not many people sing, and I know at least I can sing well enough to not embarrass myself. So, one of my favourite hymns came up, which goes like this:

I will never forget you, my people,
I have carved you on the palm of my hand.
I will never forget you,
I will not leave you orphaned.
I will never forget My own.

Has a nice little tune. So far, so good. Then we get to the first verse:

Does a mother forget her baby?
Or a woman the child within her womb?
Yet even if these forget,
Yes, even if these forget,
I will never forget My own.

I think I got to about the word mother before I had tears streaming down my cheeks.

And for some strange reason, it wasn't my girls I was imagining forgetting, or the boys, but the soul of my little ectopic baby, who was never really a baby but just a bunch of trophoblastic cells (albeit one with a soul, according to the Catholic Church). And I was feeling really bad for treating that little creature so dismissively for all this time.

Like I said, new heights...

World's lamest blog indeed!

2008-10-31T14:27:00.002+11:00

I have a link on my EB signature that says "World's Lamest Blog." It links to here.

It is pretty lame. I spend so much time posting on EB and reading other sites that I forget to come here. Most of my proud mummy moments, and my moments of despair, and my venting moments, and the funny moments that are bound to happen in one's life when one has three young children, I write about on EB. I should write about them all here, and then everyone on EB could just visit the WLB to read about them!

I'm going to go with point form, just to summarise my last week:

1. Had another ultrasound on Monday. Both boys have turned bum-down. Little boogers. Apparently there is still time for them to turn around, so I shall be praying for this to happen. I was pretty down about it because obviously a breech twin A usually equals a c-section.

2. My dad came up on Tuesday, and spent the afternoon with the girls. It was funny to see G and Z all over him because he's never really been into that sort of thing. He was being pretty tolerant of them.

3. I had to visit the midwife yesterday afternoon for an anti-D shot (and told her that next time I'd choose my husband more carefully!). While there, we discussed the breech twin A issue, and she said that some of the consultants at the hospital would possibly allow me to try for a vaginal delivery. It's something I have to discuss with the registrar next week, but it lightened my mood considerably. And, interestingly, made me reconsider my outlook on c-sections. I mean, there are certain risks associated with a breech delivery, and if I really want to get caught up on those, then c-section is by far the lesser of two evil. However, a breech delivery could go swimmingly and I would avoid the 6 week recovery period. Really a decision I would prefer to have taken out of my hands.

4. Have seen a lot of my sister M this week. She gets bored at home with my nephew H, so she comes over and hangs out here instead. Which works, because she is the one who traipses upstairs with the kids, or gets them all lunch etc.

5. J's parents are going to take the girls for 2 or 3 days a week, including dropping A off at school and picking her up. They popped over today on the way back from a holiday trip, and said that J and my SIL L, and my BIL P had all told them that I was on my last legs!!! Guess I should play it for all it's worth.

6. Right now, I'm having a chuckle at G and Z. They're reading a book together, and are up to a page that has pictures of fruit on it. They are pretending to munch on the fruit, each saying "My turn!" and then making loud, angry munching noises whilst pretending to eat the page!

7. It's blowing a hot gale outside right now. Revolting. And we're about to go out walking in it to pick A up.

Random musings

2008-10-24T08:20:00.002+11:00

I have been a little too focused on pregnancy to talk about the other stuff that is going on around here. And, let's face it, with a 5yo, a 3yo and a 21mo, there is always a lot of "stuff" going on!

Z's latest funny word is moona. For some reason, this is her spin on "mirror". It has taken me a while to work that one out (can't think why...). But after her bath, she likes to be wrapped in a towel (she calls out "baby, baby..." until you wrap her) and then insists on seeing herself in the "moona".

And yet, for some reason, when she heard me say "Shit" the other day, she had no trouble getting that one out sound-perfect (nor "bugger").

Oops, I just said "for some reason" twice.

G said to me the other day, "When I'm 42, I'm going to be a snake." I'm still wondering if I should warn her future husband?

A and G like to watch The Cook and the Chef (it's on ABC1 at 6.30pm on Wednesday evenings). Unfortunately, they also like to argue over whose turn it is to be the cook and whose the chef. Seriously, those two (A and G, not Maggie and Simon) could argue about anything.

Oh, dear, a new development as we speak - Z appears to have learnt the word "mine." I have been dreading this day!

It has been cold in Sydney the last couple of days. By cold, I mean it didn't get above 14C on Wednesday, and I think it may have reached 16C yesterday. At this time of year, it is usually at least 20C. Still, today is looking lovely, and it's supposed to be warm this weekend, so I have bribed the girls to attempt to swim the length of our pool by offering them a Cherry Ripe if they do. Given that it's going to be 29C on Sunday, at least the weather should be conducive.

I am seeing the midwife today. I think I shall abandon my usual stoicism and declare myself a mess. I am in quite a bit of discomfort now. I won't call it pain, because plenty of people go through a lot worse, but constant discomfort, and inability to do everyday things, is very draining, both physically and mentally. Not sure what she'll be able to do to help me out, but at least I'll have it noted for the record, and then they won't be surprised when I'm begging for induction at 37 weeks!

2008-10-01T15:46:00.001+10:00

Thought it would be nice to share a little cute mummy and girly moment, especially after my horror day with them yesterday. (Won't go into detail, as it was just awful and I'd prefer not to relive it, but suffice it to say everyone ended up screaming at everyone else, all the girls ended up in tears at some point, and overall everyone was unhappy.)

Twenty four week ultrasound

2008-09-29T19:58:00.004+10:00

Off-loaded all three girls onto the in-laws at 8.20 this morning (it's school holidays, so I'm up one on weekdays for 2 weeks), and headed off to the hospital for my scan.

All went well. Darcy the wriggly one, with his head way down low in my pelvis already. Leo, the quiet, sensible one, headbutting his brother. I couldn't see the exact measurements, but what I could see that most of Darcy's were 24-something, and Leo's were 23-something, which is right on the gestational age range based on my original and revised due dates.

I will get a full report at my midwife appointment on Friday. I hope there was nothing untoward. The ultrasonographers do not tell you anything - they just do the measurements and plug them into a report and send it off.

And I wanted to share this picture that A drew last week. I thought they were pretty good likenesses, but have labeled them just in case not everyone is as bug-savvy!

Pregnancy, how do I love thee?

2008-09-23T08:24:00.002+10:00

Let me count the ways...

* No clothes that fit
* Pelvic pain
* Difficulty rolling over in bed
* Oh, the tiredness...
* Inability to cough/sneeze without a little...umm...leakage (hey, I've been pregnant three times before and never had this problem!)
* Inability to bend over to pick things up off the floor - I'm off to Bunnings to get one of those rubbish picker-uppers, seriously
* Rib pain - what's with that? The boys are still hanging out down in my pelvis, so how my ribs are hurting is beyond me

I shall add to this list as I go. Suffice it to say I am not exactly breezing my way through this, my last, pregnancy. Ah, twins! Hands up all those who have secretly wished for twins at some point. I confess, I did. However, this was the one time I prayed NOT to have twins. Murphy and all that...

THE HOLIDAY (Yes, that deserves capitalisation!)

2008-09-15T08:25:00.002+10:00

Not sure how well baby brain will allow me to recall the salient points of the last week, but I shall attempt a rundown of our trip.

Day 1 (Sunday 7/9)

The flight was pretty cruisy. The girls were reasonably good, but Z was of course very wriggly, and ended up not napping at all.

We arrived at the island at about 5pm. When we got to our room, the first thing Z did was climb onto the bed, put her head on the pillow and say "Nice, nice..."

The rooms were pretty shabby, actually. Looked like they hadn't had much done to them in a couple of decades. That aspect of things, at least, was disappointing.

Meals were all buffet, but OMG what a selection of stuff!!!

That evening, I took Z back to the room to get to bed early(ish), and J took A and G to see the evening show. They didn't get back to the room until 10pm!

Day 2

The weather was ordinary - overcast and windy.

A and G went off in the morning to Kids' Club (separate clubs for each of them - G was in the 2-3yo group, A was in the 4-10yo group). It was nice to have a day without worrying about 3 children!

To be honest, I don't remember much about Monday! (Or Tuesday, for that matter.) Obviously fairly uneventful.

Day 3

Another day of so-so weather. The girls were in KC again, and this time they practised for their evening performance (the Circus show). A got to dress up as a lion. G wasn't involved, but we all stayed up and watched the show anyway.

Day 4

G had a fever overnight, so we didn't get a lot of decent sleep (not that we were anyway, with Z insisting on sleeping in our bed).

That was followed later in the day by the start of a vomiting bug picked up by Z. Oh the joy!

Day 5

A total write-off. Z was in bed all day vomiting or sleeping, which meant that J and I had to tag-team all our meals. I think I spent literally half this day in bed with Z.

Day 6

Finally a day of nice weather!

The vomiting seemed to have abated, and Z woke up in a reasonable mood. However, she then proceeded to vomit by the pool lounges, so I ended up taking her back to the room. Both the other girls were still okay, so we sent them off to KC just to make things easy.

That night was the KC show; both A and G got to perform. Very cute!

Day 7 - Final day

Z was bright and happy, but still managed to vomit over breakfast. We then got told off by a staff member for not notifying them that she had been vomiting for 3 days. Well, strangely enough, they hadn't notified us that about half their staff were also off sick. Both the girls that ran Petit Club (G's club) were off sick with the same virus Z had. Anyway, the staff member was very happy to hear we were leaving.

Anna, however, had woken up with an ear-ache and was teary all morning. A dose of Panadol cheered her up enough to enjoy some time out on a catamaran and kayak with J, though!

We lazed by the pool until it was time to leave. A sobbed the whole time we were waiting on the jetty for the boat, and then slept for the whole boat trip, the wait at the airport, and the plane trip home.

**************************************************

So, a lovely relaxing holiday. NOT. A vomited the evening we got home - just the once, thank goodness. Z vomited in our bed at midnight that night, so instead of a nice relaxing night in my own bed, I ended up having a very unrelaxing night on the single spare bed, which was covered in towels, with Z lying beside me, and waiting for her to vomit again (she didn't).

And then yesterday I managed an afternoon nap, only to wake up feeling completely awful myself. Am feeling a little more human now, but only just. Still need about 2 days of continuous sleep to catch up, but can't see that happening any time soon.

Funny small-world moment from the trip: bumped into a family over dinner one night; turned out the wife was a cousin of one of my good friends from school. So we gossiped about high school days by the pool for the rest of the trip!

(Will edit to add video and photos later. Too lazy and tired right now.)

Grace sings Twinkle Twinkle

2008-09-02T14:40:00.001+10:00

Okay, so it's not Broadway material, but here's a taste of Grace the performer, and Zara post-nap.

Frigging crappy Friday.

2008-08-30T08:00:00.002+10:00

Ever had one of those days where nothing really bad seems to happen, but you feel like you've had a really shitty day anyway? That was my day yesterday.

It started out full of promise. I actually put the computer away as soon as I'd had breakfast, and spent the morning getting ready to go out (school, midwife, funeral). Everyone was ready to walk out the door before 9am. A true miracle!

I dropped A at school and headed straight on to my midwife appointment. I was eager to meet the smiley, friendly, cuddly midwives! (Aren't all midwives smiley, friendly and cuddly? The ones I had in the UK certainly were.) Alas, it wasn't to be. They were very brusque and business-like. I suppose this, being my first impression, was what coloured all our communication thereafter.

The first thing that happened in my appointment was that MW1 pointed out to MW2 that they'd forgotten to double-check the dates (LMP etc) with their previous patient, so they were not going to forget with me. Unfortunately, based on my LMP but with a 30-something day cycle, my EDD ends up being 5-7 days later than what it has been listed as (by LMP with a normal cycle, my EDD is 18 January; by LMP with a, say 33 day cycle, my EDD is 23 January).

As I have had irregular cycles since I went off the pill in late 2001, I have always questioned the listing of my EDD based on LMP, but every time I have been told that, as baby is measuring within the normal size range for the EDD, they will not change the EDD (even when I know exactly the date I ovulated).

I actually queried the sonographer at my second ultrasound, at 8w3d. (The first one was too early to see an embryo, we just saw the foetal poles of both twins, and gestational sacs, which are a much less accurate measure of gestational age.) The answer was the same as always - measuring within normal range.

However, on the actual report, which I did not see until yesterday, it lists the gestation age at that ultrasound as 7w5d for twin A and 7w4d for twin B. This is much more in keeping with my dates.

Unfortunately, for some reason the imaging place had not sent either the first ultrasound report, or the nuchal translucency report, so MW1, although she was adamant she was going to change my dates, said she would contact them and wait till she'd seen both the other reports.

Now, in the grand scheme of things, having five days added to one's gestation would not be a big deal. However, for political reasons, we were hoping to have these babies in late December, which would have been 37+ weeks by my original dates. By this, I mean that the wonderful phenomenon in Australia known as the Baby Bonus (a payment introduced across the board, non-means-tested, to all new mothers) becomes means-tested as of 1 January. For us, this means the difference between receiving $10,000 and nothing.

(Pre-election, the Labor leader stated categorically "The baby bonus will not be touched." Post-victory, in the new budget, announced in May this year, one day before I found out I was pregnant, he announced that it would be means tested as of 1 January, and that it would also thereafter be paid in fortnightly instalments to those who still qualified for it. In my opinion, it should have been post-dated to come into effect AFTER the latest date a woman who was possibly pregnant on Budget night would have given birth - i.e. possibly mid-late February. But what would I know?)

So the sudden realisation that I stood to "lose" (for want of a better word) $10,000 was a bit of a dampener. I will only be 36w4d on 30 Dec, rather than 37w2d. Big difference. (Of course, being twins, the chances are approximately 50% that they will arrive before January anyway, however, a 50% chance does not equal absolute certainty, so it was still frustrating!)

But of course, I keep trying to tell myself that $10,000 is nothing compared to the healthy of my babies. Which it's not, obviously, and in a way, the new dates make it easier to accept that we will miss out on the money, because it is no longer borderline. It's just a matter of getting used to the idea!

Then MW1 handed me a copy of the scan report from Monday. Apparently Darcy has a 4mm choroid plexus cyst. The handout that MW1 gave me stated various encouraging things like "Most babies born after having a CPC found on an ultrasound are healthy" and "CPCs do not harm the baby's brain." But for some reason, MW1 chose to harp on about the fact that "there is a small association with CPCs and a baby having an extra chromosome 18." (Given that this syndrome has other signs that would be evident on ultrasound, none of which were present in Darcy's ultrasound, I found it odd that she thought this was significant.)

The upshot of the report was that, given I had TWO risk factors for a problem (the presence of the cyst, and advanced maternal age), she gave me a form for genetic counselling! I politely told her to get stuffed. Seriously, the world is all about statistics, so if she doesn't get that my baby is perfectly normal other than that CPC - which apparently is no longer even considered worth mentioning by some ultrasonographers! - then more fool her. Although I suppose it's a case of CYA (cover your arse).

The rest of the appointment was essentially boringly normal. BP was 110/60. Fundal height was 28cm. Darcy's HR was 156. Twin B's HR was in the 130s. (If Anna is to be relied on, his name will be Leo.)

I received forms for four ultrasounds (24, 28, 32 and 36 weeks). Of course, when these weeks are is dependent on whether or not my dates change. However, MW1 told me to go ahead and book them based on original dates anyway, and I could always change them if my dates changed. I will find out next Friday (she said she'd call me if they were going to change them).

So that was over, and it was off home to drop the girls off with Auntie M and cousin H, and then on to a funeral.

A friend of mine from uni - not a close friend, but one with whom I associated a bit in the first couple of years being that we both caught the same train home - died of Hendra virus last week. Coincidentally, he grew up just one block away from where we now live, and his parents are still in the same house. The funeral was at our local church.

No need to say much about the funeral, I guess. They are depressing, sad occasions. In a way, I feel like I shouldn't have gone. I sat up the back by myself, and that was that. I did get to chat with a few uni friends afterwards, which was nice, but I wasn't their favourite person, so it wasn't like a long-lost-friends reunion! A's godmother was there, so she came and had lunch with me afterwards.

The icing on the cake, the straw that broke the camel's back, whatever you want to call it, was the phone call I received from a family member during the afternoon. It was a family member who had been away at the time of our scan on Monday, so had received the news of the two boys, but not had a chat about it yet. The conversation went like this:

FM: So, are you over the moon?
Me: (attempting to reply) Well....
FM: (interrupting) Stupid question, of course you are.
Me: Actually, we could take it or leave it.
FM: (can't remember exactly what was said, but something along the lines of) No, you are, you must be.
Me: Well, J is actually disappointed.
FM: I don't believe that.
Me: Well, it's true, he would have loved more girls.

I think I switched off for the rest of the conversation. It was the last thing I needed, someone telling me how I should be feeling about my family.

I called J to have a rant to him about it (I had already told him about the ultrasound report and the possible date changes), but he was busy, so had to cut the conversation short. This just made me feel worse.

Anyway, today is another day. The sun is shining, I'm about to do some laundry (mindless, but a sense of achievement when it's done!), and Auntie M and Uncle M and H are coming for dinner tonight, so we have some shopping to do.

Blown away by kindness

2008-08-26T12:43:00.003+10:00

After my ultrasound yesterday, I sent a text message to most of the people in my phone book whom I thought would be interested! A few of those were fellow EBers. I had already said that they were more than welcome to post the news online if they happened to get there before I did. As it turns out, I was home almost 2 hours after I expected to be, so they had already posted the news.

One of the mums at school is also a member of EB. We had never come across each other there before, and even since knowing her user name and being aware of the fact she posts there, we still don't cross paths.

So I arrived at school yesterday afternoon, and when she saw me, she went and got a gift bag out of her car. She came up to me and said excitedly, "I couldn't help it. I knew your ultrasound was today so I just had to stalk you. I got home at 2.20 and went straight online to see if there was any news!" And she gave me a hug, and the bag, which contained two blue singlets, a pack of toy cars and planes and trucks, a little stamp that says "It's a Boy!" with some silver ink, and (my favourite, because I think it's funny!) a sample Huggies BOY nappy.

Now what did I do to deserve this? I feel so bad that people are so thoughtful, and yet I continue to be a thoughtless dolt (or at least, I have thoughtful moments, but then they get swept away in time and general self-centredness).

I vow to be more thoughtful in the future.

Still on Leo. But haven't done much further thinking yet.

Holy snapping duckshit, Batman!

2008-08-25T21:57:00.003+10:00

Two boys. Need I say more?

(Oh, I suppose I should point out that both babies are healthy and growing well! It was wonderful to see them again, looking more and more like little babies.)

Okay, really, I shall detail the appointment.

They were running about three quarters of an hour late, which didn't surprise me nor worry me. I think J was thinking "Bloody public system" but, given the number of times my ob in the US ran at least an hour late, it was water off a duck's back to me.

I knew it was going to be a good appointment when the sonographer used heated gel on my belly! She was already my hero!

Twin A was still on the left. We started on this one. And the first thing she did, once I mentioned we were keen to find out the sexes, was head down to the nether regions. There, in all its glory, was a little penis flapping around in the breeze. No shyness there. We had our Darcy. This is the closest I have ever come (in all my ultrasounds, for all 3 girls, the early ones from this pregnancy, and from my ectopic pregnancy) to crying at what I saw. Silly, silly woman.

Once I knew I had my little boy, I automatically assumed the other baby would be a girl. But of course I had to sit through the whole palaver of Darcy's measurements before we moved on to twin B.

The sonographer said as soon as she started on the measurements "Oh this one is smaller than the other one." So I really did assume this was a girl. We had a quick look "down there" but there was no seeing anything - you could see the baby was squeezing his/her legs together! Back to the real business (all the measuring etc), and then right at the end, we had another look, and, although it wasn't as obvious as Darcy the Flasher, we saw the boy bits again. I was knocked for six. Wow. And, strangely enough, a little disappointed that it wasn't a girl!

The disappointment lasted for a few hours, not helped by the fact that J had really been hoping for another two girls.

However, every single response we've had from family and friends has been overwhelmingly positive. I'd hate to think what they would have said if we'd announced we were having two girls.

The business of choosing a second name started this evening, and it seems as though the frontrunner for the moment is Leo. I suggested it, almost as a joke, whilst reading The Lion Who Wanted To Love, whose hero is a lion named Leo, who just wanted to cuddle everyone instead of hunt and kill them. A kept saying, as she looked at pictures from the ultrasound, "That's Leo, because he's cuddling you, Mummy."

Pictures? Sure.

At this hour in 3 days...

2008-08-22T12:06:00.003+10:00

...I will have seen my babies again! Like you couldn't do the maths from yesterday.

I hope this weekend goes as quickly as they usually do. We have no plans for tomorrow, but Sunday will be pretty busy.

A colleague of J's is coming over to dig up our bird of paradise plants and take them away (apparently there is a lucrative market in selling mature plants - we could have made $200-300 a pop on them, and we have 5 - but seriously, this guy is doing us a favour by taking them away!).

A has requested that we go to Mass, so we're going to try out our other local church. We have normally been to the one in our suburb, but the one in the next suburb is just as close and if we end up not sending A to the local public school for Year 3, then we'll probably go Catholic, and this is the school I would prefer (which is not officially "in area" but if we register with the parish we should get a place).

Then we are having a family dinner at the ILs' for BIL's birthday. They originally arranged it for Friday, but then decided to go out instead, and changed it to Sunday. J has told them countless times that we do NOT want dinner arrangements made on Sundays, as we prefer to be at home getting ready for the week, not having a late night, but it seems that ears are deaf. He told me we'll be leaving at 7.30pm regardless. I'm sure this means we will leave about 8.30pm and that the girls won't be in bed until after 9pm. I'm not a stickler for bed-times but I do like to have the last word on it, as opposed to it being up to my MIL. I even pretended I got the time wrong and said to her on Wednesday, "See you on Sunday at 3.30, then!" and she said "Oh no! Four thirty."

Looks like Sunday will be over in a flash, then!

Oh, and for the record, none of the girls likes my Fast Chicken Tagine with couscous. Bugger them, I think it's delicious.

Oh my, I've been such a bad blogger.

2008-08-21T14:30:00.002+10:00

I feel so slack. Although I'm sure with a sum total of zero regular readers, this is not a big deal.

Counting down the days (it's now 4) until we have our big scan and find out (barring crossed baby legs) exactly what variety these babies are.

We have decided on names for girl-girl and boy-girl combinations. A second boy's name, however, has not even been discussed because both J and I figure the possibility of needing it is so remote!

Anyway, here are our choices:

Amelie Rose and Juliet Isabel (first one J's choice, second one mine)

or

Darcy James Owen and Isabel Charlotte

The reason the girl's name in the boy-girl pair is different to either of the names in the girl-girl pair is twofold. Firstly, I don't like Amelie enough to use it as my ONLY girl's name. Secondly, while we both like Juliet (J would prefer it spelt Juliette), my sister pointed out that having Juliet in a boy-girl pairing would forever saddle her twin with the nickname of Romeo. So we went with a third option!

Names I've been tossing around in my own brain for a second boy include Gabriel, Henry and Fabian. I really like Hugh/Hugo, but don't think it goes with our surname. Leo is also one I don't mind. I mentioned Fabian to J the other night and he didn't spit out his dinner, so I guess it could be under consideration. Same with Gabriel, we've always like that.

Z is at that incredible age where she is starting to become articulate. A (probably incomplete) list of words she has at the age of 18 months is:

* Mummy
* Daddy
* Anna
* Gay-ghee (for Grace)
* boop (book)
* up
* down
* now (usually said in an absolutely imperative tone! Hmm, wonder where she gets that from? She will even say it if I ask her to do something, e.g. "Z, can you get your pyjamas?" "Now!")
* school (a new one today)
* no
* yes
* bib
* bin
* me, me, me
* various animal noises (cow, horse, elephant, tiger/lion, dog, cat, duck, chicken), although she can't say any of the animal names - if I ask her, she just makes the noise!

We have ditched the dummy (or dummies - she had 4 in her cot and 2 in the car), and so far the sleep is not going too badly. Soon, she will move upstairs into the second cot, sharing a room with G. That leaves the nursery free for the babies, who will share a cot for a couple of months at least.

As for me, I am growing rapidly. I took a picture at 16 weeks (2 weeks ago now):

and I am bigger now. It's going to be a fun ride. I have two friends with twins, and one is harping on all the negatives (I feel like crawling into a hole and dying every time I see her!) and the other is big on positives. I think it helps that the latter had quite an easy pregnancy. Easy to see the negatives when you spent your whole pregnancy worrying, with your body falling apart.

Anyway, I had better go and pick up A from school. Might post a few videos later!

With the school holidays more than half-over...

2008-07-16T08:04:00.002+10:00

...I thought this blog was well-overdue for an entry.

So, since my last entry, we've been busy.

Tuesday last week was my booking appointment at the hospital. Lovely midwife, basically it was just a lot of answering medical and obstetrical history questions. We had the good fortune to be evacuated from the building due to the fire alarm going off (falsely, as it turned out), although it was bloody cold outside in the wind, whilst we waited to be allowed back in. I don't have to go back there now until D-day!

After the appointment we drove down to B________. The weather was absolutely terrible. Not raining, but blowing a gale for 2 days straight. It just was not possible to do anything outside. So, aside from a trip to the lolly shop for a hot chocolate (and a couple of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups!), we literally did not leave the house.

Thankfully, I got a break from the girls on Friday with a trip back to Sydney for my nuchal scan. That went extremely well. Both babies are doing well, and my measurements were all extremely low-risk, so chances are good at this point for two healthy babies. My next scan is on 25 August (only 6 weeks away now!), at which point I will hopefully find out whether the pink trend in our house will continue or be broken!

Picked up J that afternoon and drove back to B_______. Went out for Chinese at the local club, which was great (although my dad had a bad cold, and didn't end up coming with us). Z was a bit of a pain - normally she's a good eater, but for some reason she chose to be fussy and whiny. Anyway, we survived!

The weather was slightly improved by Saturday, so the girls had a chance to ride Taffy (the miniature horse my parents agist for a friend). A even trotted for the first time! She was thrilled.

We came home after lunch on Sunday, back to reality. I didn't realise what a pigsty the house was, but I am gradually dealing with that, given that I am starting to feel a little more human. Still, this week has been a round of catching up with housework and friends, and it continues with more of the same.

Today we're off to the northern beaches to have lunch on the beach with a couple of ex-expat friends, tomorrow I'm off out west for a meet with a group of fellow ectopic pregnancy survivors, and Friday I have my regular playgroup.

Saturday is the girls' ballet recital, which includes a morning rehearsal, and Sunday we're having G's godfather and his family over for lunch.

Not to mention that J's parents arrive home from their 10 week o/s trip on Friday, so we're planning on visiting them on Friday evening to break the news to them.

Told the girls

2008-07-07T09:52:00.003+10:00

On Saturday morning, we told the girls about the twins.

G couldn't have cared less. She didn't even acknowledge what we said.

A, on the other hand, was so incredibly excited. She kept saying, "Twins??? Twins!!!" That night, when I kissed her good night, she said, "Remember how you said this morning that there were two babies? That makes me so excited!"

She keeps coming up to me and hugging me and kissing me, and asking if she can feel the babies move. I had to tell her that there is nothing to feel at the moment, but I promised I would take a picture from my ultrasound on Friday back to B________ with me.

Did I mention we're going to B________? I have my first antenatal appointment tomorrow at 9.30am, then we'll head home, pick the dogs up and drive down. I will come back up on Friday morning for my 11.30am appointment for my nuchal scan, and then J will finish work early and I'll pick him up about 3pm from the station and we'll head straight back down until Sunday. Apart from the fact that it will be freezing cold (and most likely raining, as it usually rains, drought notwithstanding, when we visit), it will be nice to leave the girls there for the day and have the scan on Friday in peace!

It's the little things

2008-07-04T13:38:00.002+10:00

So, I was at Coles yesterday afternoon with all three girls (as usual), and I realised we go there so much that they have their little habits. Quite cute little habits, really!

Every time we get to the check-out, they take off to talk to the guide dog (you know, the money-collecting statue thing) that is near the main window. Sometimes I will give them money for it. I suppose I can't complain that, if anyone sees my children clamouring for money from my purse, it's because they want to put it in the dog, not buy lollies!

Then, once we're checked out, Z and I and the trolley (Z riding in the seat) head down the ramp a long way behind A and G. I let them run down the ramp because they know they have to stop at the bottom, and they have this little game where they stand on the railing at the bottom (it's one of those double railings - one down low to stop the trolley bumping, and the other up the top, serving the dual purpose of preventing trolley bumping and being a hand rail!) and declare that they are "a teenager!" (A) or "six years old!" (G). It's amazing how grand a few extra inches make a child feel!

Usually I'm that harried mother who is short and curt with the children in the supermarket, but yesterday, thinking of how much of a thrill the girls get out of being teenagers or six years old, I had a smile on my face (so rather than being that harried mother, I was that insane mother...).

The other little thing that had me appreciating the girls more (by which I mean not getting too frustrated about five year olds doing five year old things) was the way they like to pull up the loose tile on our tesselated tile verandah. Brings back memories of visiting my Nanna and Grandad and completely fucking with the loose tiles on their verandah (there were quite a few of them). I realised that what was such a fun game for us as children must have driven our parents completely nuts, because the simple act of Anna even touching our one loose tile sends me barmy! Well, it used to send me barmy. Now I just think back to Titania Street.

You wouldn't read about it

2008-06-16T13:30:00.003+10:00

Everyone we know is aware we have always wanted four children. So certainly this latest pregnancy shouldn't come as any surprise to anyone, especially given our timing.

But what came as a big surprise, even to us, was the fact that our "just one more" is, in fact, two more! The first ultrasound showed two sacs, but it was too early to see any foetal development, so I had a repeat scan last week. I was prepared for one of the sacs not to have developed, but we were thrilled to see two little heartbeats! Well, thrilled and apprehensive. As you would be, if you had planned one more child, and had everything you needed, and then suddenly found out you'd have to go baby shopping again.

Whether it's mind over matter or not, I started feeling ill the day after my first scan. It hasn't let up, but at least it has never reached the vomiting stage. I am barely functioning, and eating lots of chips (both hot and packet varieties). I am not sleeping very well - too much stuff whirling around in my brain, on an endless loop.

On an unrelated note, A is doing really well with her reading. She started the term at level 3 (whatever that means, the books had text like "A green dragon...a red dragon...a blue dragon..." etc) and is now at level 7. Apparently their aim at HGIS is to have all the children up to level 5 by the end of the year. So we're good! At BIL's school, they apparently want to get them to level 11! Scarily, there are several children in A's class who are on level 11 already. Still, I am very proud of myself for not really dwelling on this fact too much. I have never thought that A (or indeed G) was terribly academic, so the fact that she is above the class average is brilliant.

So, I have a secret!

2008-05-26T14:24:00.002+10:00

The day of my last entry, I was lamenting the fact that I didn't seem to have ovulated yet after my last period on 13 April. I thought possibly it might be due to my continued inability to gain weight. So I decided to become proactive and use an OPK. It actually came up with a line - faint but way more obvious than any other time I'd used them.

I thought I was on a winner! I did another one the next day and it was darker (although still not as dark as the control line). Next day, another - darker again. At this point, I was getting deja vu from four years previously, when I had serially tested and gotten darker and darker lines, which ended in me buying a home pregnancy test and getting a positive! (G was the result of that.) Of course, to put myself out of my misery, I hotfooted it to Coles and bought a 2-pack of HPTs. Lo and behold, the feeling of deja vu continued - there was a faint, faint line on the test.

I had just that day booked an appointment with my GP: I was planning on discussing the possibility that, even though Z was 15mo, I might have ongoing PND. Of course, last time I'd made an appointment with her to discuss the same thing, I ended up getting a BFP that same day and starting the process of blood tests that diagnosed my failed pg in March.

Anyway, I saw her at the appointment, got my pathology request forms for serial HCG levels, and had my first level done. It was a long wait till the next day when I was able to get the results: 1853 (my apologies to anyone who read on EB that my level was 1846, but I wrote that from memory, which was obviously highly unreliable). Considering my first b/t with the failed pg was 49, I was more than happy to take an 1853!!! My level two days later was 4430, which more than satisfied the doubling-time-of-48-hours requirement.

Right now, I am awaiting my dating scan (and confirming-baby-is-in-utero scan) which is on Wednesday morning. I made it for 8am so that I wouldn't have to spend the first part of the day worrying about it; instead I will be rushing to get everyone fed and breakfasted and out the door!

In other news...

All three girls were rejected by the agency! I guess I suffer from more parental bias than I thought!!!

Happy Mothers' Day!

2008-05-11T15:45:00.004+10:00

So it's already the second Sunday in May? Well and truly a third of the way through the year, then.

A bought me a gift at the school MD stall and was so thrilled to come downstairs this morning to give it to me. I was already up, as the doggy alarm had pawed at the gate at 6.19am and J got up to let them out. That was it for me, I was awake. So I thought I'd have my mothers' day coffee in peace...then I was accosted with love and cuddles and a beautiful pair of bath slippers, some lovely soap, and a foot brush/pumice. Had to promise I would have a bath later in the morning and use the soap and pumice my heels.

I am feeling very bleh today. That is the best word (or non-word) for it. Tired, but not shattered. Down, but not about to burst into tears (I don't think). Fuse shorter than is visible to the naked eye. I suspect PMS.

I am taking the girls to an agency for an interview on Thursday. It is mainly Z who I think could warrant a photo shoot or two, but you can't just take one, can you? The agency needs two recent photographs of each girl, so I decided to take some pictures today. Can't get much more recent than that!

Thinking calm thoughts!

2008-04-25T09:24:00.004+10:00

Actually, should that title even have an exclamation mark? It doesn't imply calm, does it?

I have just finished reading Buddhism for Mothers by Sarah Napthali. Although I am not going to be converting from Catholicism, it has certainly been an eye-opener. And just what I needed right now, when all three of the girls are being, well, challenging. (In fact, challenging would be an understatement.)

A is being obnoxious and inflammatory. She seems to genuinely dislike G.

G is being the most whingey, whiney child you've ever met. The proportion of whingey vs non-whingey statements coming from her mouth is about 10 to 1. Uggghhhh. And she seems to genuinely dislike everyone in the family. Her favourite saying is "I'm very angry with you." It especially comes out when she has just gotten into trouble for something. Almost like a defensive reaction. Mummy must work on not reacting so quickly or harshly.

Z is just cheeky. Climbing and jumping on the lounge. Stealing things from her sisters. Screaming. At nothing. At something I don't understand. Whatever.

I know that this is all just what children of this age do. I know that it will all pass, to be replaced with some other grating and frustrating behaviour. But I need to live in the present moment, and appreciate them as they are now, because they won't be this little for long!

So.Blinking.Tired.

2008-04-08T12:02:00.003+10:00

What more do I need to say? I have a doctor's appointment at 4.15pm. I eat, I feel sick. My head is in a cracking London pea-souper. I can't even decide what to cook for dinner, let alone make the effort to sort out a list of ingredients and go shopping. Not sure what help the doctor will be (blood tests? advice? referral to nutritionist/psychologist/other-ologist?), but at least I am feeling proactive.

Perhaps he will feel sorry for me when he sees me asleep on my feet with three children in tow? Believe me, the last thing I want to do is drag three children post-school-pick-up to a doctor's appointment, but when I called yesterday morning, it was the first appointment they had available. A bird in the hand...

Off to consume a glass of water to see if that helps me feel any better.

March was crappy, but April hasn't started too well, either.

2008-04-04T12:43:00.002+11:00

Greetings from Sickville. Actually, I'm the only one suffering right now, apart from the variously snotty noses of all three girls. I've gone from sore throat to bad indigestion to migraine, back to bad indigestion with diarrhoea, and today it's the head cold plus remnants of the diarrhoea.

Mum and Dad are coming up for the weekend, but, given that Mum is recovering from her stem cell transplant, she's not exactly firing on all cylinders, so not as enticing as it sounds in terms of babysitting! The girls are thrilled, though, as am I, of course, but too physically exhausted to be jumping up and down about it.

A is enjoying school immensely. She is coming along in leaps and bounds with her reading and writing. She started school only just able to sound out basic words like dog and cat, but is now sounding out words like tree, play etc. And making attempts to work out what words are by how they look, even if the actually letter combinations are unfamiliar. She is also writing really well - she often sits down and draws and then writes a sentence under the drawing. Her favourite at the moment is "I love..." (my mum, my dad, Jemima, my family). Speaking of drawing, I went into her classroom the other day, and there were pictures up that each child had drawn, with a short sentence underneath (e.g. This is a house.), and I looked at A's and it said something like "Me at my house, and the playroom has three windows." Okay, not grammatically correct (would have preferred if the teacher had suggested to her that they write "This is me at my house..." but what can you expect from someone who pronounced the letter H as haitch instead of aitch?) but typical A, offering a complete explanation of every detail!

G is enjoying being the 'big girl' at home while A is at school. She is very quick to anger, however, and we often get a response of foot stomping and folded arms and glowering accompanied by "I'm VERY ANGRY with you because..." The reasons range from understandable things like having been admonished for spitting her Milo all over her clothes (on purpose) to crazy, incomprehensible reasons like having been told that her shirt is a little dirty. It will be interesting to see how preschool and school change what seems to be her innate sense of injustice.

Z is at a brilliant age. She loves to draw (thank you, Fisher Price Travel Doodle Pro!), and loves to play with her sisters. She is not really talking yet, although, oddly enough, can tell you what a rooster says (in case you were wondering, a rooster says "Oodle-oodle-oo!"). I am mystified as to what sort of child can tell you that but not say the basic important words of every toddler: Mum and Dad. She will sign for up or down, milk, her own version of fan, and is just starting to learn please/thank you. She calls her dummy duh. She knows where her feet, tummy, belly button, head and hair are, but not so much the nose (she points to her ear). She can follow instructions, for example, yesterday she brought me something that needed to be thrown out, so I asked her, "Can you put it in the bin?" and she toddled off and opened the bin and threw out the offending object. We had a bit of a hiccup when she suspected she couldn't close the bin again without getting her fingers stuck, but she solved that problem and managed to complete the task with all fingers intact!

Sorry for the grammar. I have been hanging about in this Facebook group and am feeling a little anal!

Boy, did I speak too soon!

2008-03-13T11:52:00.002+11:00

What was I saying about illness? That it was, hopefully, over in our house for a while? Well, that was before I started throwing up at 3am yesterday. It was all out (both ends) by about 11am, but I was feeling wretched. And then Z started vomiting. She actually managed to vomit in the car (while Grandpa and Nonna were taking her and G back to their place for the day), so now the car stinks of vomit, too!!!

We were all in bed by 7pm, and, incredibly, managed to sleep through the night. However, given my complete lack of caloric intake yesterday, I was feeling woozy and wobbly walking around the shops today, and I've probably lost another of the much-needed kgs I've been trying to hang onto. Harder work than ever trying to get back up to 48kg.

Did manage to speak to the doctor about my last blood test, though. My HCG level is down to 9, which is, essentially, non-pregnant. For someone with a morbid fear of an ectopic pregnancy, this is a good thing, but it must have sounded incredibly odd to her when I responded "Oh, that's great! Good, good..." I had a little twinge of regret when subsequently cancelling my ultrasound appointment and my ob appointment, but that was it.

G cracked me up today, at the same time as making me realise I should get them away from the TV more. She was walking around the family room with a wooden stick (the sort you find in a child's musical instrument set, used for hitting the wood block), saying, "If the baddies come to get you, I'll whack them!" (She was actually talking to A, not to me.)

I am about to embark on my first Easter hat-making attempt. I got an idea this morning when I saw A walking around the house with our home-made Christmas wreath on her head. Since the hat theme at school is Easter or Autumn, I suggested to her that we could make a similar wreath but with autumn colours, and have autumn-coloured streamers hanging off it. A loved the idea. I loved the idea even more, because all it involves is cutting a hole in a thick paper plate (to use as the "hat" part), cutting out a lot of autumn-coloured hand-prints to use as the leaves, and sticking the streamers on. Oh, and let's not forget the obligatory glitter that must adorn all art projects completed in this house!

March Madness!

2008-03-11T12:34:00.003+11:00

Well, yet again I've managed to get through nearly a whole month without bothering (I won't lie and say without getting a chance) to update my blog. Sheer laziness.

It's been a crazy few weeks, punctuated by illness (me and the older girls), a brief flirt with pregnancy, and overseas visitors.

I was the first one to succumb: I started out with a sore throat that progressed over a couple of days to nausea and headache - the type that leaves you with a complete inability to do anything other than lie on the floor and moan. Thankfully my sister M was able to come and look after the girls for a while, and then J came home early.

Anna was next in line with a sore throat that turned into Slapped Cheek disease. She was off school on Friday 29 Feb, and again I had to enlist the help of M as I had to go to the doctor. She was recovered by Sunday evening, so thankfully only had the one day off school.

Grace came down with an awful vomiting bug last Monday night, and was laid up all day Tuesday and Wednesday. I ended up taking her to the doctor as she had not managed to eat anything for nearly 48 hours. However, as usually happens, she turned around the following day. We had a brief relapse yesterday (a week after it started) but she is fine today, touch wood.

Zara has been well, again touch wood!

The pregnancy episode...well, I had no idea when I was going to get my period, because my periods are irregular at the best of times, and I am still underweight. Given I'd had one full cycle since Zara was born and it was 33 days, I somehow got it into my head that I needed to to a pregnancy test on day 33. It was positive. That was a huge shock, but exciting nonetheless. However, it wasn't to be: with my history of ectopic pregnancy, I was able to have serial HCG levels done, which were low and not rising properly. After an evening in the ER (I had had some cramping and sharp pain on the side I have a tube, and I wasn't risking losing that one too), my levels had started to drop. As strange as that sounds, I was so relieved as it meant it was highly unlikely to be another ectopic pregnancy. Two days later, I lost the pregnancy anyway. It was just like a really bad period. I'm now at the tail end of that, so onward and upward in the journey to complete our family with baby number 4. And right on time for another April/May conception and January baby!

And so it came to pass that in the middle of all the illness and pregnancy dramas, we had guests arrive from America. R was a colleague of J's at his first company in New York, and we had spent a couple of weekends at R's farm in upstate NY. R & his girlfriend T arrived on Sunday 2 March to stay with us for 4 days and to see the sights of Sydney. The weather was great, and I think they had a good time (although I was preoccupied with thoughts of pregnancy loss during most of the time they were here). They left last Thursday to head to Cairns, then Adelaide and Melbourne, before heading home to NY.

The girls loved having them here, and they were really good with the girls too. It was nice to be able to leave G and Z at home and walk to school with A in the morning (stroller-free!!!).

One thing we did discover was that our 7-seater vehicle (5 of us plus 2 guests, right?) struggles to seat 7 if at least 2 of those are in car seats! If it wasn't for the fact that I am stick-thin, it wouldn't have seated 7. I spent an uncomfortable Sunday afternoon travelling squished between G and Z in the supposed 3-seat back row. I'm sure it will be fine once the girls are out of car seats, but since that is a long way off, for now we shall call it a 6 seater.

Speaking of which, I am having a dilemma. I'm a bit of a car seat Nazi, as most people who know me already realise, so A is still in a 5-point harness (thank goodness for having come from the USA, where I was able to invest in a Britax Regent, which I am proud to say I use illegally here in Australia, where harnessed seats stop at 18kg). She has been invited on a playdate after school next week, and I have the option of letting her go home with her friend, in her friend's car, with no car seat, or picking her up from school and then driving her to her friend's place. On the one hand, I don't want to be the one who everyone starts laughing about for having my 5yo in a car seat still, but, as the statistics say, most accidents happen 5 minutes from home, and not at great speed. It only takes once. I am going to try and be chilled about it, and let her go in her friend's car, but the thought scares me a little. (To be honest, she has ridden in the car without a car seat once before, when we had the car seats installed in J's parents car, and I went to take J to the station. I drove like a scared old lady the 5 minutes there and back! I was never more relieved to pull into the driveway and turn off the engine!)

Alas, I think it is time for me to tackle the mess that is my kitchen. Washing up, dishwasher to unload and reload, and maybe even think about dinner, since I will be stuck in peak hour traffic tonight at dinner cooking time. Please pray that Z stays asleep for at least another hour!

Baby no longer!

2008-02-15T21:36:00.007+11:00

It struck me on Saturday that Z is no longer a baby. She started walking on 19 Jan, four days before her birthday (exactly on par with G), and now walks everywhere. I took a photo of the girls and J walking down the street together, and that's when it hit me - she walks. Babies don't walk. Toddlers walk. Babies crawl. Z does not deign to crawl anywhere any more.

To add to the overwhelming feeling of time flying by way too fast, A started school at the end of January, four days after her 5th birthday. I can't believe I have a schoolgirl! It's all downhill from here, right? She already plays at being a teenager (she walks around saying "I'm a teenager!"), but pretty soon she'll be there for real. And then G will follow, and then Z ... And won't that be a hormonal household! I remember a girl in one of my online mothers' groups saying that she had 3 sisters, and when all the women in the house had their periods, her dad J would say they were suffering not from PMS, but JMS - "J must suffer."

So, now I have a 5yo schoolgirl, a 3yo who is talking more and more now that her big sister is no longer around all day to talk for her, and a 1yo who tries to run everywhere and do everything with her big sisters. Whatever happened to my babies?!

A slack way to start 2008

2008-01-15T14:42:00.000+11:00

Fifteen days into the year, and I have not yet made an entry. This is despite hours and hours on the computer. (Looks like my first NYR failed miserably - less computer time...)

So I am here to rectify the oversight, even if I have absolutely nothing to say. Seriously, I'm wracking my brain ... nope, nothing.

How about some gratuitous pictures of the girls?

What a year!

2007-12-31T07:56:00.000+11:00

As 2007 draws to a close, now is as good a time as any to mull over the changes that have occurred in the lives of the Lindenwood gang over the past year.

We started out 2007 with our good friends N and A, at their house, with A's sister and her husband over from England. It was a pleasant evening of eating, drinking and being merry. Not so much drinking on my part, since I was driving....but I did partake of the chocolate fountain.

The first event of our year these days is G's birthday. For her second birthday, she requested a Nemo cake, and this was the result.

The next big event of the year was the arrival of Z. I had an obstetrician's appointment in the afternoon of 22 January, and she gave me all the paperwork to book into hospital for 26 January (yippee! an Australia Day baby!) then sent me on my way, saying she'd see me on Friday. Z had other ideas. I'm guessing she didn't much like being harrassed at that ob appointment, because she arrived on 23 January at 1.09am!!! At least I have had one child who chose her own birthdate and arrived spontaneously.

Not only did we now have a newborn, but one of our closest friends in the USA had departed for a stint in England. They left the day before Z was born. It was very strange not being able to introduce Z to them, as they had been such a big part of our lives for the previous 3 years (our surrogate family with whom we spent Thanksgiving and Christmas).

We had been expecting Mum to arrive on 25 January for 4 weeks, to help out with the expanding family, but since she was going through chemotherapy for Burkitt's lymphoma, we instead welcomed Auntie C. She stayed for 3 weeks in February, having brought with her a swag of recipes for us to try for new dinner ideas (we are now addicted to home made baked beans, which we invariably serve on top of crumbed veal schnitzel and covered in grated parmesan!).

The US markets were looking a little unhealthy, and this, combined with Mum's illness, meant that we had to seriously contemplate a move back to Sydney. J spent a lot of time on the phone during March, looking for a job to come back to. He was fortunate enough to have more than one offer, so the decision was made: we would be returning home.

The time between making that decision and actually leaving passed in a blur of organisation and sleeplessness (remember that little baby that arrived in late January?!). We did, however, organise a short break in Washington, DC, which was enjoyable but sad, as it was something we knew we were unlikely to do again. Ditto for everything else we did in those last weeks (shopping at Short Hills Mall, going to playgroup etc).

We were very lucky that N and A agreed to have us as houseguests for our final week in NJ, allowing us to get out of the house and clean up before we had to take off for good. It was a wonderful week of eating, drinking and being merry (ooh, deja vu!), although A and her friend P were getting a bit crabby with each other by the end of the week.

We left the USA on 3 June. I can still vividly picture getting into the car at N's for the drive to JFK. We ended up being on the road (or in the air) for about 33 hours in total. We arrived in Sydney on 5 June (05/06/07 - cool, huh?) - the sun was shining and it was about 17 degrees. Gorgeous.

We lived with J's parents for 3 months. That is not necessarily an experience I wish to repeat any time soon. We did manage to spend several days down in B_____ with my parents, but my plans to stay down there for most of the limbo time (until our house was vacated by the tenants and we'd had the floors sanded and polished, and our shipment had arrived from the USA) were scuppered, due to the sheer magnitude of the organisational task I had to undertake. Trying to get Medicare cards for the girls (I am ashamed to say I totally lost it in the Medicare office and used the F word more than once), buying a car, getting health insurance etc etc. It was, to say the least, an extremely stressful time, and J and I ended up at each other's throats many times.

The dogs were released from quarantine on 18 June. It was wonderful to see them again, although they were more keen to sniff the bushes around the Eastern Creek Quarantine Station car park than to say hello to me!

Our worldly possessions finally arrived on 29 August, and we moved into our house on 1 September. Ever tried to fit a 4br house worth of furniture and "stuff" into a 2br one? Let's just say, it was a good thing our car was too big for our garage, as the garage was chock full of extraneous "stuff" (including our sideboard!). We had been planning to take our time searching for a bigger house, but being under each other's feet all the time really convinced us to start looking in earnest.

We were all set to bid on a house in the same suburb (had had inspections done etc etc) when we saw another property advertised just 4 days before the auction on the first house. We went to the open house the following day, and loved it. It was in a suburb we had never contemplated, but we started to think seriously about it. We went to the auction of the first house but didn't end up bidding. We were happy to let it go, and realised that, even if we didn't end up getting the second house, something would come up that was better.

We continued to look, during the time between when we'd seen the house in P_____ and the auction for it. We even ventured to the North Shore, but realised we were going to get slightly more for our money down south (not to mention the proximity of family). We did all our due diligence on the house in P_____ even though we were still in two minds about it - it was just a bit further west of where we'd really wanted to go, but everything else was on the pros list.

We came to the auction still undecided about whether or not we wanted to buy it. J just jumped in and started bidding about halfway through the auction, and at that point the decision was made. We ended up being the successful bidders, and proud owners of a new house!

Another 6 weeks of stress followed, once again organising movers and utilities and everything that a move entails (although obviously this time, no quarantine required for the dogs - we were only moving ten minutes down the road!). We moved into the house on 3 December.

Christmas was upon us before we could blink, and we hosted our first family Christmas. Mum and Dad came up from B_____ on 23 December and the rest of the family (J's family too) were over for the day).

And here we are on 31 December 2007. Mum and Dad went home yesterday, J is at work at least till 2pm, and I am here on my own with the girls and the dogs. No plans for welcoming 2008. We will probably let the girls stay up and watch the 9pm fireworks on telly, and then most likely head to bed.

Shopping!

2007-12-27T07:41:00.000+11:00

Can I say at the outset that I will not under any circumstances be braving Miranda Fair (Westfield Miranda for non-locals or those too young to remember when it was just The Fair)? The thought of battling with hordes of post-Christmas shoppers fills me with a dread worse than waiting to sit an exam. I do, however, need to do the regular grocery shopping, so will have to join the masses who are also doing the same.

J has gone to work today, albeit in casual clothing (G pointed out to him, in no uncertain terms, when he came from the bedroom to say goodbye, that "that's not a going-to-work shirt!"). Mum and Dad are off to Auntie C's to await the community nurse who needs to do something to Mum's catheter/line/whatever the thingy in her chest is called. The girls and I will head over to join them later, so I can do the grocery shopping alone.

Mum has been working on and thinking about our garden, with a hint to me that I need to do the same by giving me a Gardening Guide for Christmas!!! My priority is the herb and vege garden, since that actually serves a purpose. And getting out the wandering jew from the pool area. Ugggghhh. No wonder the dogs were getting itchy - that stuff is everywhere.

It's brekkie time. Must eat....

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-26T08:33:00.000+11:00

So, I'm a day late, my apologies!

We had a good day. Up at 7am (civilised if you have children!), breakfast before opening presents, presents all a hit, nice lunch, lazy evening.

Funniest present moment was A opening her fairy clock. There's a story behind this one:

In July, we were shopping with Mum in Target at Queanbeyan, and A saw a Barbie Fairytopia wall clock. She desperately wanted it, so we said that perhaps Santa would get it for her. Fast forward to last week, and Santa's helper (a.k.a. my dad) called while I was driving the girls and asked what the clock looked like. I had to ask A, who described it as "round, with a pink fairy with rainbow wings." Unfortunately, none fitting that description were to be found in Target Queanbeyan, so I said we would look for one.

That day, we searched through Big W and Toys R Us and unfortunately didn't find that particular clock. We did, however, settle on a different one. A did keep mentioning that it wasn't the right one, but it was okay. Hmmmm.... Then I was shopping alone the following day, and happened to come upon the Myer toy section. I found a round clock with a pink fairy with rainbow wings, so I bought it. When I got home, I showed A, who said "It's similar, but not the same." We decided that it was better than the first one we'd bought, so at least we were halfway happy.

Yesterday, A opened a present from Santa. The "similar" clock turned out to be "...the right one! It's the right one! Santa found the right one!" We did manage to get some of that on video. Hilarious!!!

We managed to get through lunch without any arguments about politics, religion or socialism vs capitalism. Amazing, given that both Mum and Dad, and J's parents, and all our siblings were present. J did get into a bit of an argument with his sister about the bible being a work of fiction, but it didn't last long, nor did it travel up to the other end of the table in a free-for-all.

Anyway, without further ado, a slideshow of random Christmas Day photos. Yes, that is a pair of chopsticks that Z is so besotted with. Santa left them in her stocking! She thought they were perfect for poking at her Fridge Farm magnets to make them sing.

New house! Now the fun begins...

2007-12-16T13:47:00.000+11:00

Greetings from our new abode!

We moved in on 3rd December, although settlement didn't occur till 3 days later (the owners were nice enough to let us have the keys on the original settlement date, even though it was delayed). Most of our stuff is unpacked, and a lot of it is "away" (thank heavens for lots of cupboard space), but that doesn't necessarily mean it is organised!!!

The girls have their own rooms now. The first few nights were a bit here-and-there, though. Both of them refused to sleep upstairs the first night, so they both slept in the front room (I suppose you could call it the sitting room/library, even though there are no chairs to sit on) - A on the folding bed, G on the spare cot mattress. The next night was an improvement in that Anna graduated upstairs, so G had the folding bed mattress on the floor (she falls out of bed if she doesn't have bed rails). It was another few nights before G felt brave enough to sleep upstairs in her own room, but they are both doing really well up there now.

Z is sleeping pretty well too. She has still been fighting nap time, but the screaming period is now a lot shorter (unless there are extenuating circumstances, e.g. visitors that she can hear enjoying themselves in the dining room!). We actually had 4 nights in a row where all 3 girls slept right through, although the last 2 nights have been a bit awful with Z.

Want to see pics of the new house? In all its messy just-unpacked glory? Just click here!

We still have a lot of work to do to get the pool up to scratch for swimming, and obviously a lot of sorting out of things into some sort of order inside the many cupboards/wardrobes (closets for our American friends - it's all I can do not to call them closets myself, but I'm slowly getting back into speaking English ;) ). We are hosting Christmas lunch this year - my parents, J's parents, and our 4 siblings and partners for 2 of them. So we really do need the place nice and neat - not only for lunch but also for the inevitable photos of the girls unwrapping presents around the tree!!!

Zara is 10 months old today!

2007-11-23T18:38:00.000+11:00

I am going to take a leaf out of Cecily's book (or should that be a post out of her blog?) and write a letter to Zara. Sappy shit! And obviously I won't be doing it as eloquently as Cecily either.

Dear Zara,

Well, my beautiful little girl, you are 10 months old today. It has been about the shortest 10 months in the history of the universe!

First of all I want to apologise to you for all that you have had to put up with since you were born. Most newborns do not have to deal with the stress of their parents contemplating moving countries, and most 4 month olds do not have to move countries, nor do they have to spend 2 months living with their grandparents while their parents try and sort out their new lives back home in Australia. Most 4 month olds have all their familiar toys as they make the leaps and bounds that carry them towards toddlerhood, and most 7 month olds certainly don't spend too much time being ignored because of the demands of unpacking a house full of stuff. And most 8 month olds' parents do not then decided to buy a new house, require said unpacking to be reversed, not to mention the added stress on parents of mortgages and movers and....well, blah blah blah. You've had a crap 10 months, and most of it has been my fault.

So I'm not sure you realise how much I actually love you. Because I do love you. Here is what I love about you (some of these are "I love you because..." and some are "I love you despite..." but they're all good!

your funny hair - the way you haven't lost the top part of your baby hair, which is now at a length where it always flops in your face, and which is dark, while your big girl hair is growing in all blonde and curly underneath the floppy dark bits! It is uniquely you. It is also why I tend to put the floppy bits up in a palm tree 'do, which people often remark on;

your new habit of screaming at me if I am too slow to put the next mouthful of a meal in your mouth. This happens particularly if I am eating my own meal at the same time, and especially if you finish before I do, because then you seem to think that my meal should be finished in "one for you, one for me" mouthfuls;

the way you dance the minute you hear music. Okay, so maybe dance is not quite the correct term to describe the way you hang on for dear life to whatever it is you are leaning on, and bend your knees up and down, bopping joyously. Whatever it is, you enjoy it!

how I can't leave the room without you howling and crawling after me (slowly, because it's hard to crawl and cry at the same time); I know separation anxiety is a common concept but it's not one that your sisters felt it necessary to educate me about, so it's a new thing for me to be so....well, loved...!

the absolute aversion you have to being dressed in the morning. I believe you associate putting clothes on with having a nap (I have no idea where you developed this concept, as most normal people feel it works in reverse of this), and napping is probably #1 on your Most Hated list, so it's no wonder you dislike getting dressed so much. The good thing is that it's nearly summer, so getting dressed is no longer mandatory, unless we are going out in public;

your inability to close your mouth around spoonful of food. You insist on holding your mouth open while I drag the spoon back out along your top teeth, thereby scraping all the food off onto the roof of your mouth. It is more effective with solid stuff than, say, yoghurt

your early efforts to speak. I am sure one day you will appreciate the utter inappropriateness of using the word "dead" to describe the things closest to you (mummy, daddy, Anna, Grace, and the dogs). Others your age are already talking (their proud parents thrilled to be recognised among your first words); I can't remember at what age your sisters started talking, but you mustn't be too far off. You do have the intonation of whole sentences down pat, even if what you say is actually "Dig bah rhee beh nin!" (I think you just said that to your shoe just now, perhaps it means, "What pretty pink flowers, but I don't think white is my colour!")

All in all, I think at 10 months you are a lady of extreme passions - joy, sadness, disappointment, curiosity. At this point in your life, I predict that you will be rather verbose (a lot like Anna) and incredibly demanding! But right now, I'm enjoying those 2-second snatches of time where you attempt to stand on your own, before you realise you can't, and elegantly lower yourself to your bottom (you're pretty good at this, I think you have great quads). And one more thing I need to add is that you have been talking to your shoe for the last 15 minutes. These are the little moments that make being your mummy the best job in the world!

Oh, and by the way, we're going to be uprooting you again in 11 days to move house. Just so you know. But we don't plan on doing it again for a long, long time. In fact, we may even decorate your nursery.

It's November already???

2007-11-04T08:00:00.001+11:00

Where did the last 10 months go? Could they have been lost in a flurry of new babies, an overseas move, 2 months with the in-laws, another move, and buying a house?!

J and I were just saying yesterday how it seemed like Z has been around forever, and yet she was actually born this year. (Maybe it just seems like forever because that's how long it seems since I've had a decent night's sleep!)

And it seems like only yesterday that we were settled in NJ, in a routine, with playgroups and friends, and birthday parties to attend. A was booked into school for September. G was going to start dance class. We had booked a week away in Duck, NC - now that we were looking forward to, we were going to spend the week with another Aussie family that I met online, and had stayed with for a week late last year. (Hi to R if you're reading this! As far away as CA was from NJ, it was still closer than Sydney is from TX....!)

I spoke to one of my NJ friends on the phone a couple of weeks ago. She and her husband and son moved to London for 2 years the day before Z was born. When I spoke to her, she told me how she didn't feel like she said goodbye properly to us, because when they left, we had no idea we'd be leaving so soon after, and not be there when they got back. I also spoke to another friend, who is still in NJ (yes, not everyone is leaving!), and just hearing about how all our friends are doing over there is enough to make me homesick for a country I didn't really enjoy living in. Okay, so it makes me homesick for my friends rather than the country. I'd be highly impressed if they all decided to come and live in Australia. But we all know that won't happen. In fact, none of them are even remotely considering a holiday here because it's just too bloody far away. Which it is, of course.

But this week reminded me that it will just take time to get into the swing of things here, and have a life similar to what we had in the US. I have joined a mothers' group - introduced by an ex-colleague whom I just happened to bump into a couple of months ago at the local shopping centre - and I actually had 2 playdates organised, which I had to cancel, unfortunately, due to Z having a fever for 3 days. Still, that sounds more like my old life!

Now my petty jealous vent: a girl in my online mothers' group has just found out she's pregnant again through an "oops, the condom broke" moment (despite taking the morning-after pill). Just when I think I'm over my disappointment of not having had that 18 month gap I would have had after G if it wasn't for the ectopic, it hits me again on the head. Stupid, isn't it, because I wouldn't have Z now if it wasn't for that! So I just need a few days to get my head around it. Doesn't help that we are hoping for #4 soon ourselves, and with the evil boob-sucker that is my youngest daughter, it doesn't look like it will be happening in the near future. (That, plus the fact I need to gain a few kg...operation fatshake has officially started since I bought a huge tub of icecream yesterday.)

Because my brain is a sieve....

2007-10-31T07:21:00.000+11:00

....I thought I'd already posted about our big purchase. Big in size, big in $$$. We bought a house! Moving day is 3rd December, so we have the infinite joy of yet another round of packing and unpacking - this time right before Christmas! But, for 5 bedrooms, 3 living rooms and a pool I will suffer in silence!!!

The girls are looking forward to the move, and have decided to have their own rooms instead of sharing. And they are very excited that the upstairs family room has mirrored wardrobes at each end and a ballet barre. I am very excited that the kitchen looks onto the living area. J is very excited about the pool, and the shorter walk to the train (although it is a little further out from the city, so the total commute time is about the same as now).

No, I'm not slack

2007-10-18T07:59:00.000+10:00

I just haven't had internet access for 2 months. Two whole months!!! Actually, I got a lot done...there's a lot to be said for depriving an internet addict of the internet.

So, 2 months is a long time in the life of a baby. Z is now crawling, pulling up to standing, and sleeping through the night. I'm still breast-feeding her but only once or twice a day (or if we go out, because I'm too lazy to take bottles and formula!). She has 2 teeth (and a good bite). She now wears her hair in a little sprouty ponytail on top of her head, and her hair is growing in a blondey-brown. Her eyes are still blue, which gives me the novelty of having 3 children all of whom have different eye colour! (Funny story related to that: a colleague of Justin's was looking at a picture of A & G and actually asked if they were both his, because they looked so different from each other!)

The countdown is on to Anna starting school. Next month we have 3 mornings of orientation, and we get to order her uniform (I think I'm more excited about this than she is!). It was scary to think that when school went back on Monday, after the October hols, it was the last time that school started back without one of my children going!

We are still house-hunting. We are in love with a house about 10 minutes from where we are now, but our big reservation is that it is in a "nothing" suburb. I mean, it's really convenient for J's commute (and the girls' commute when they start high school) but I just have this gut feeling that tells me we should try and get into the more popular areas of Sydney now rather than when the price discrepancy between popular and less popular suburbs is too huge. We are going back and forth about whether or not to bid on this house; the auction is on Saturday at midday. Buying a house (especially in the price range we're looking at) is such a huge thing to regret. I don't want to get it and then say "Gee, I wish we'd spent a bit extra and moved to the North Shore." Anyway, we'll see what happens. In the meantime, it's a big preoccupation.

Doing the happy dance

2007-08-26T19:28:00.000+10:00

See that crazy woman jumping up and down waving her arms in the air, and screaming like a banshee? That's me. We are moving into our house on Wednesday!!! Okay, the movers are moving our stuff in on Wednesday, and our fridge/TV/kettle/toaster/phone/washing machine are being delivered on Thursday, and we'll probably move in ourselves on Saturday, but we'll be free!

J & I spent the weekend cleaning up and doing some bits and pieces around the house. J's dad got rid of the decrepit railing around our back verandah; J used the circular saw to chop the ugly pine trees into little pieces so we could put most of it in the green recycling bin; I made a feeble attempt to clean the horribly filthy venetian blinds in the house. Ha. They just looked dusty. So I thought I'd attack them with those super-duper fluffy microstaticky whatevery fluffy dusters. <insert the 'you've just fucked up' sound byte from Wheel of Fortune here> Correction - it was 6 years worth of sticky icky dust. The fancy dusters did nothing. A wet sponge just turned it from dirt into wet drippy dirt. I lost count of the number of times I replaced the water in my bucket. I think at least twice or 3 times per blind. The window sills and surrounds were just as bad. I only paid them lip service, I was so over the whole dirty water thing. I was so over the window shit that I actually enjoyed the vacuuming! Well, it is easy to vacuum a house with no furniture.

As to the other house that appeared in my last entry, we are definitely keen. I'm going to organise a pre-purchase inspection this week, and Justin is going to speak to the agent about putting in an offer (or bid, as he tells me it is technically supposed to be called).

Had a lovely break for five days in Braidwood with Mum and Dad. First went to lunch for Mum's birthday last Saturday (not yesterday) in Berrima - was quite poignant to be at my first family do since having the girls and moving back home. The weather was awful - cold (well, cold by Sydney standards!) and wet. I drove the rest of the way to Braidwood after lunch, and stayed until Thursday. It was cold and grey and drizzly every day, which at least allowed me the luxury of finishing a pair of longies for Z! The girls didn't get to ride Taffy, but we did get to buy Z her first straw sippy cup (which she took to with gusto), and populate a list for Santa by browsing the toy section at Target with the girls. Ponies and fairies were high on the list!

Z is sleeping a lot better than she had been. We're now getting her to sleep pretty consistently at about 7pm and she usually wakes then at 11pm, 3am and 6am. Sounds awful to those who are used to a nice 8 hours, but for me it is a luxury. Baby steps.... May just have something to do with the fact that she has formula for at least 2 of her day feeds. But I certainly feel a lot better than I had been, although that may be because of the prospect of being in my own space again!

Nice house!

2007-08-15T07:54:00.000+10:00

The girls and I are going to an open house this afternoon. It's in the same suburb as our current house (well, the house that WILL be our current house once our stuff gets here), but a slightly bigger block and it has a pool and granny flat. Bit more of a walk to the train station, but we're definitely considering buying it, if it's not too bad. The idea is to live in it as is for a while and then add a second storey once the girls get a bit older. It is up for auction, but if we like it, we'd probably make an offer prior. That's what we did with our current house, and so we and the owners avoided the whole auction headache!

We had a particularly trying day yesterday. That is to say, I don't know if J did, as he was in the office all day, but I did! My brother-in-law, P, has a gastro bug and a migraine, and so the monumental task of trying to keep 3 children quiet fell to me. It didn't work. So I loaded up my washing and the girls and headed to my sister C's place! We spent the day there, just hanging out, doing the laundry, watching TV and made a quick trip to the supermarket. A word of advice to anyone reading this who is contemplating living in an apartment without a lift - DON'T DO IT if you think you'll ever have kids in strollers. Allow me to share the process of a "quick" trip to the supermarket from a first floor apartment:

Walk downstairs with children - A by herself, G holding my hand, Z in arms
Unlock car which is thankfully parked right outside the building, place Z in her car seat while instructing A & G to stay on the steps and not come near the road (and praying that they actually obey!)
Get stroller out of boot, get Z out of car seat and place in stroller
Place G in stroller, cover both girls with rain cover (yes, it was raining)
Walk to supermarket, buy stuff, walk home
Put groceries in car (thank goodness for that, because otherwise I would have had to tote them upstairs somehow), get G out of stroller, get Z out of stroller and put in car seat, put stroller in boot, get Z out of car seat and take all 3 girls back upstairs.

Fun, huh?

Raining on and off again today, and it's turned cold again. It's no fun trying to convince a 4yo that she cannot wear her sundress when just 3 days ago it was 24 degrees!

And how could I forget? Last friday (10 August), Z learned to sit! So liberating - for both me and her! Yesterday afternoon, she sat and watched TV with A & G, and chatted to the TV and smacked her thighs in glee.

We're having issues

2007-08-09T10:32:00.000+10:00

Please, God, may it just be because we're not settled in our own house, and that the girls are missing their toys/beds/dogs.

A, who has always been the Queen of Excuses, has gone to new heights. She has also developed some amazing procrastination techniques, such as initiating a discussion about a completely inane subject that has jumped into her mind because she happened to notice a string of beads/picture of a horse/piece of rubbish on the floor. Actually, now that I think of it, G is getting pretty good at this too.

G's latest thing is to shake her finger at me and say "If you say that again, then.....", followed by a totally unrelated consequence. Ah, methinks I hear echoes of Mummy in that one. Better stop wagging my finger at them.

To be brutally honest (how I hate that phrase usually, but I am feeling particularly brutal!), I think we're all one mixed-up family right now. I'd truly like to think that all our woes are due to the displacement in living arrangements, but perhaps there are shades of crappy mothering in there too. J is busy at work and lucky to get away for some decent adult interaction. J's parents keep stressing to me that they will look after the girls while I get out, but I don't really have anything to do, and getting out just to get away from the girls does not seem like the "right" thing to do - I always count down the minutes till I get back to them. Doesn't help that I feel that their grandparents sometimes forget they are only 4 and 2, and not 24 and 22, in their expectations of their behaviour. Surely my 2yo is not the only one who has ever answered a request/question with an emphatic and less-than-polite "No!"? Or taken a cushion from the lounge to use as a pillow? Or made a lot of noise whilst playing?

I am trying so hard to appreciate what we DO have, which is a roof over our heads indefinitely. But sometimes it feels good to vent, even if it's about the petty things. Want to hear what petty things are bothering me right now?

references to the "good" sofa (in relation to not eating/jumping/playing on it), when said sofa has rips all through the fabric

my washing being hung on the line in, shall we say, strange ways - shirts sideways, pants by the cuffs, other shirts with the pegs willy-nilly (which leaves marks, right?); believe me, I am grateful someone is hanging my washing out, but still....

not knowing from one minute to the next whether the way I have stacked/rinsed/not stacked/not rinsed the dishes is appropriate, and will or will not incurr the silent wrath of anyone - as far I as I know, the rules are: rinse and place in dishwasher. If I forget to rinse straight away, I am usually in the habit of leaving a dish in the sink with water in it, but this is a BIG no-no here. So then I'm in a spot of bother - do I just give it a token rinse and put it in the dishwasher, knowing the mess is unlikely to come off? Do I wash it by hand? Do I leave it soaking on the bench? AAAAGGGGHHH.

A lot of my angst is also coming from the fact that Z is a very clingy little girl. In my own space, I would be dealing with this by getting on with things, and letting her cry for five minutes. You know, while I'm hanging out the washing, dressing A & G, having a shower, making breakfast. But the minute I try and do this, MIL is there picking her up. I get the impression she thinks I am a terrible mother. So, I end up either doing things with one hand whilst holding Z in the other, or I don't do what I should be doing, and instead sit on my arse with Z on my lap, whilst getting the impression that the ILs think I'm a lazy slob (well, they're not TOO far off the mark, but I'd certainly be doing a lot more if I was in my own house). See, it's hard to cook dinner when you're too worried about how your 3 children are behaving. Do you get my drift? I just feel uncomfortable dealing with my children the way I'd like to. I also get little comments about how J was never like that as a child etc etc. I can't even play the "but we've moved to another country" card, because they moved to Papua New Guinea when J was 2 and back to Australia when he was 4.

I'm sure you really needed to read all that! You're wondering why I'm not in a better mood, given the view I get to look out on every day. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll have an up day soon - maybe when my car is fixed? Or after I've been to the council today (hmmm, when was the last time a visit to the council to discuss development issues put you on a high???)?

You give me fever...

2007-08-08T18:22:00.000+10:00

Yep, the fevers are back. Grace and Zara. Grace is okay in herself, but Zara is grumpy and not sleeping well (so what's new?!). I swear these girls have had more ibuprofen and panadol in the last 2 months than in their entire combined lives previously.

House update: plastering is just about done (he just needs to finish sanding), floor sanding and polishing is booked for next week, and dishwasher installation for the following week.

Car update: booked in for Friday to have the second sliding door repaired - it will be nice to have both power doors working. I'm going to leave A & G with Nonna & Grandpa and meet one of my ex-expat cyberfriends for coffee! Will be fun to finally put a real person with a name and personality I've known for 4 years.

'Snot funny...

2007-07-31T14:30:00.000+10:00

Three of us have the flu. G, Z and me.

I know how to blow my nose.

G knows how to blow her nose, but the snot when she sneezes stretches down to her chin, and if you mention nose-blowing to her, her Pavlovian response is to lick the snot (she has a cow tongue, too).

Z, of course, doesn't know how to blow her nose, and screams blue murder if I dare try to wipe it. I'm sure she's going to end up with bruises on the back of her head, because whenever she's sitting in the bumbo (http://www.bumboseat.com/) on a dining chair, and I attempt to wipe her nose, she flings her head back and clocks it on the wooden chair back! (And before you ask, it's not the head-banging that makes her scream, because the nose-wiping causes screaming even when she's lying down on a nice cushy bed...)

Things are getting...shall we say.....fun here at the ILs. Not sure how much more I can handle, but I have no choice. I am going insane. I know I am the evil daughter-in-law, because J approached his mum last night to say it might be a good idea if the girls ate dinner by 6pm, because waiting until nearly 7pm was making them crabby and difficult to deal with in the evenings. You could tell the immediate reaction was that this was a request from me which I didn't have the guts to make personally, and that it was yet another strange request from the woman with strange ideas (e.g. I like to eat my hot meals hot, so I tend to put the lukewarm ones in the microwave; I prefer to do things for myself, rather than rely on others; I prefer to put things away in the kitchen after I've used them, not amass a collection of the last 3 years' sandwich toppings......etc etc, you get the point). Then J got a dressing down this morning from his dad while on the way to the station, for "having a go" at his mum about meal times. I mean, for fuck's sake, all he was asking was that, if a meal was not going to be ready until 7pm, to let us know so that we can prepare something else for the girls, and if it was something we could serve the girls first and just serve the rest of us later, could we maybe have it ready a bit earlier? (Shouldn't really be a problem since everyone seems to prefer to eat lukewarm/cold food anyway.) AAAGGGHHHHH, I am seriously tearing my hair out.

On a lighter note....I finally worked out how to get pictures from my camera to my computer, so I have included a picture of our house.

Seven Weeks and Counting....

2007-07-26T14:54:00.000+10:00

That's how long it's been since we arrived back in Australia. Seven weeks and two days, to be precise. On one hand, it seems like forever. On the other, it seems like it was just yesterday that we and our five hundred items of luggage (give or take!) arrived at Sydney Airport. It was the 5th of June, 2007. Or, as I shall always remember, 5-6-7!

So, who are WE? Let's work in birth order:

Me (Janet) - born in 1972, Aries ('cause that's important), grew up in Sydney, met the other half in 1988, married in 2000; dabbled in classical music and secretarial work before ending up at vet school.
The other half (Justin) - born in 1974, also an Aries ('cause that's even more important!), grew up in Sydney; has a Masters degree and works in banking (no, that's NOT with a W....).
Anna - born in January 2003, while we were living in Kent, UK.
Grace - born in January 2005, while we were living in New Jersey, USA.
Zara - born in January 2007, also in NJ.

Wait, before you make any jokes about breeding seasons, please understand that this sequence of events was in no way planned! Well, it was if you consider Murphy - we had just booked tickets to fly home to Sydney from London for Christmas 2002 when we found out Anna was on her way; same again in 2004; we were sensible in 2006 and waited till after I'd done a pregnancy test... And no, we never made it home for Christmas in the 6 years we were overseas.

There are three other members of our little family - all of the canine variety. They are the Lindenwood gang - Jack Russell terriers named Jonty, Jem and Scout. They were our first "babies". They travelled the world with us, and are also safely home in Sydney.

We're staying with Justin's parents right now. That's an experience. I was planning on staying down in Braidwood with my parents for most of the time we were waiting for our furniture and personal effects to arrive, but being in the country and trying to coordinate tradesmen to work on our house just wasn't working. So we're all in Sydney together. And it looks like we've got another month or so to go until we're in our house. Happy days.....

We all know what a joy it is to do renovations. So I don't need to go into details about how it has already done my head in, and all that we've done is rip up the carpets, pull out all the staples and tacks and buy a dishwasher! It's the whole process of trying to line up quotes and make decisions and get people to actually call us back that is frustrating.

Speaking of frustrating, there's Z. She was 6 months old three days ago, but she is still sleeping (or not, as the case may be) like a newborn. She is a booby girl, and insists on her regular dose of booby several times a night. I can't remember the last time I had a decent sleep, but it was certainly more than 6 months ago!!! My sanity, what little was left, is slowly being eroded by this lifestyle.

A and G are handling the whole disruption to life pretty well. There are behavioural issues, but I can't say they are over the top compared to what would be expected from normal 4 year olds and 2 year olds! I think they think it's one big holiday, since they are getting more than their fair share of treats, trips to the playground, late nights, and TV. Won't they get a rude shock when we are all settled at home, and life gets back to normal?!

The dogs have also made a smooth transition back into Aussie dog life. They spent 31 days in quarantine, but came out none the worse for the experience (unlike our bank account, which was $8000 or so worse off...). Jonty and Jem are currently enjoying the life of country dogs with my parents, complete with invisible fence (http://www.hiddenfence.com.au/). Scout is up in Sydney, being thoroughly spoilt by Justin's brother, the girls' Uncle Phil, who is letting her sleep on his bed every night, and came home from the shops today with two giant ham bones for her!

Well, that's just a short snippet about us and what we've been up to. There is so much more I could say but wouldn't know where to start! Although I will conclude with a funny from our resident comedienne, G.

Uncle Phil loves to call everyone Aaron. Anna told me one day that it annoyed her, so I suggested that when he came home from work that day, she should call him Murphy. Which she did. That was a couple of weeks ago....

Yesterday, G went with Nonna and Grandpa to pick Uncle Phil up from work. However, she fell asleep before they arrived, and only woke up again as the car pulled into the garage at home. In her sleep-induced haze, she glanced sideways and saw Uncle Phil sitting next to her. "Murphy!" she cried.

Ravings from the Lindenwood Madhouse

Back to school, and afternoon scheduling craziness!

And a little photo blog entry

And it's 2012

OMG, it's August already!

Really, why would you bother? A rumination on the folly of choosing veterinary science as a career

One of those weeks

Handwriting

Multiple Birth Awareness Week!

Same old same old

Snippets

Yes, I have a son. He's the one pushing a Unique Cars magazine around in a pink dolly stroller!

J: (watching the Commonwealth Games boxing) The Australian guy's just playing cat and mouse.Miss 3: Which guy's Captain Mouse?

11 October 2010

It finally happened!!! Mr No-Words, when I asked him what he wanted, actually SAID, "Cheese." (Yep, he's that much of a freak - he can't talk at all, yet can form the CH and Z sounds without a problem.)

later the same day...

What was with my boys today? Leo copied me and said "Bye bye, water!" when we pulled the plug in the bath tonight. He's also been intoning a little chant I do whenever I'm changing his stinky nappies - even down to the weird croaky voice I usually do it in!!!

14 October 2010

(I'm cheating, I posted this photo on 17 October, but it actually happened on this date, so I'm putting it in the right chronological order!)

Yes, the big man had his first hair cut. He was getting a big comb-over style floppy bit on the crown of his head, and it was time for it to go.

16 October 2010

Is it wrong to be close to tears because a TV show that one had watched for 20 years has just shown its last episode? I'm going to miss my Saturday nights with The Bill.

17 October 2010

Daddy has taken his two biggest girls to the cricket today! Managed to leave the third girl at home with Mummy and the boys by purchasing cupcakes for morning tea...

18 October 2010

Nothing like walking up and down the stairs in a silent house at 1am to make one realise that one's knee makes a very unusual noise...

same day...

Oooh, 9 week old cocker spaniel puppy cuddles! Mummy gushing, 3yo more interested in Doodle Buddy on the iPhone. How times change...!

19 October 2010

Darcy's impressive vocabulary of 2 words:

20 October 2010

...feels another shitty day coming up. I seem to have lost all empathy for my fellow human beings. I just can't be arsed having to try so hard to see other points of view any more.

same day...

And today's tantrum of the day from Darcy was over the fact that Mummy said no, he couldn't wear pretty, dangly earrings. Although they would have gone nicely with the pink headband.

same day...

Do you think I should record Darcy's latest milestone in his baby book: "First fart blamed on someone else - 20th October 2010, aged 21 months"?

23 October 2010

Mad Woman Takes Five Young Children to Questacon

31 October 2010

This year's Christmas card photo:

2 November 2010

THEN and THAN are NOT INTERCHANGEABLE. My car is smaller THAN yours. Not THEN. "I'd rather go to his party THEN hers" does NOT mean you are choosing one over the other, it means you'd rather go to his first and hers afterwards. If you're not that much of a party animal, you need to use THAN.

5 November 2010

Remember how I wished - oh, how I wished - for the boys to start talking? Well, Darcy has been "talking" to me all freaking morning (first time he's babbled with sentence intonation) and it's already driving me nuts! So ungrateful I am.

same day...

Z: Mummy?Me: Yes?Z: Ummmm....I don't know this question.

7 November 2010

8 November 2010

Pet hate of the day: blogs whose links do not open in a new tab or window automatically. Bloggers take note. I do not like having to navigate back to your page just because I have followed a link you've provided. Target=blank, FYI.

same day...

Zara, aged nearly-4, pondering the world: "How do rabbits shake their heads?"

****************************************************

In summary, boys talking more, Z keeping me entertained with her curiosity, and me becoming more and more cynical and less and less tolerant as I age.

Mummy 1, Darcy 0...sort of...

Little and often...

Poor neglected blog

A Life Less Interesting

Bits and pieces

Random musings

Happy 1st Birthday!

And so endeth 2009

Silly season

Bandage changes

Darcy's first trip to the ER

Ten months old

Little things

So proud of my little ballerinas!

A very average day

Putting it out there in the public domain!

Eight months old today

It's breakfast time

Hear that? No? That's the sound of sleeping babies!

To my boys, on the day they turn six months old.

It's Wednesday again

Nearly 2 months since my last post

Noooooooo!

My gorgeous boys, version 5,847,369!

Video post - because it's quiet here!

A photo

It's a small world

J: (watching the Commonwealth Games boxing) The Australian guy's just playing cat and mouse.

Miss 3: Which guy's Captain Mouse?

Z: Mummy?
Me: Yes?
Z: Ummmm....I don't know this question.