2+2=5?

So, now that Archer is ripe old age of four months, Bob and I are discussing our next child, or rather, the possibility of a next child.

About a month ago, Archer got cute. Not just cute, heart achingly adorable. Bob said then that he would like a third child. I think, although I'm not exactly sure of his thought processes, it had something to do with the yucky newborn period being over and him realising a third actually wouldn't be too much extra hard work after the first few months, which in hindsight, even only a month's hindsight, goes by in the blink of an eye.

That night we put in some serious discussion. We would wait to try to conceive so the baby would be born sometime early in 2016 so that both children were old enough to cope with 5 days a week day care. We would also try all the tricks to get a girl. This was due to the reduced risk of Autism, as Bob very clearly has a genetic predisposition. We felt that the gap was large enough that the child would be an "only" child and we felt a girl would cope better with this, we felt a girl would benefit the most from an older brother and sister, while a boy would benefit most from two brothers. Having a girl would reduced the impact of Archer's middle child status as he'd still be the special boy. And girls are totally more fun to dress and decorate for. The very day I found out I was pregnant, we would buy a chest freezer so that I could cook and freeze nutrious food for the inevitable bed rest stint and I would refuse hospital bed rest unless there was a very VERY good reason for 24 hour monitoring of myself and the baby. Bob even joked how great it would be if we got boy/ girl twins. We even decided NAMES. Piper Rose for a girl and Henry Zidane (best not to ask, for the love all things holy) for a boy.

And so, it was decided. We were both excited.

Then Bob said to me one night after a particularly lovely day with the kids that he thought maybe we should start trying to conceive when Archer turned one as the gap between the kids was perfect and maybe the length of time we had picked was too long.

Yeah, sure, sounds okay.

And then, only a few days later, I was really enjoying the kids. I was reflecting what gorgeous kids they were and how lucky we were to win the baby lotto twice. And then it hit me. Wouldn't it be just a little bit greedy, a few too many rolls of the dice to try for a third one? Why would we want to add to a family that, to me, already felt so perfect? Maybe it was BAD idea to have three.

And I said as much to Bob. After he picked his jaw up off the floor, because I have always been a cheerleader for a family of three plus, he agreed. Then he said that he didn't want to just strike the possibility from our lives altogether and perhaps it would be wise to think on it again when Archer turns one, and if we still didn't want a third then, wait five years and talk again. If the answer was still no, we would take permanent contraceptive measures.

So, whether or not our family will grow is still up in the air. We are very, very happy right now. But watch this space!

Sexist?

I've been doing a bit of reflecting on Bob's and my parenting style, values and opninions. And while our main parenting philosophies are vehmently pro breastfeeding and vaccine and most everything else is subject to change depending on financies, new research and our kids being individuals that don't necessarily fit easily into philosphical mold, I've also come to the conclusion that we're both a little bit SEXIST.

This is a bit tragic for me, as I had thought that I was was more enlightened than this. I was determined not to force any ideas about masculinity or feminity on our children. I didn't want them thinking that they couldn't be something or act a certain way because of their gender, and I was especially anxious that they be able to talk me if they were homosexual, because the statistics on mental health issues with homosexual teens are scary and I did not want my children thinking that they couldn't talk to me about this because I'd forced some shitty idea about their gender down their throats.

But, here I am 21 months into my parenting journey, and I've decided I am, we are, indeed, sexist.

I've had my suspicions about Bob since shortly before Archer was born.

Christmas 2010 Bob found this amazing toy tool bench, he really REALLY wanted to buy it for Lily, but I put my foot down. She was far too little for such a toy, and at only 7 months at the time of this convo, I was NOT buying her a toy which clearly said 2+ on the box. Next Christmas, I said.

So, when the toy sales came up in June, I asked Bob if he still wanted to get Lily a tool bench. No, he said, we'll save that for Archer. We'll get her a kitchen.

And then, when Archer was born, Bob went to watch a soccer game with him. Lily pitched a jealous fit as Archer was only about a week old at the time of this incident. I asked Bob why he wasn't watching the game with Lily, as he'd always done in the past. He explained he wanted to watch it with his son. Oh dear. We had fierce argument about why he was an ass hat. And Lily got to watch the game with her daddy.

And then I found myself doing it.

The walker we bought for Lily is a pram. It's pink and purple and sits a dolly in it. As we were doing toy inventory before we left Queensland, I said to Bob, "We'll have to get a new walker for Archer, he can't push a pram." But, why not? What does it matter? I told myself I didn't want him singled out by making him use things that were exclusively feminine. I didn't want to single out my NINE MONTH OLD (I assume he'll be about this age when he needs a walker) as too feminine?

I knew we had a problem as parents.

I've always liked to dress Lily like little girl, that is, we use very few gender nuetral items. Except for the occasional jammies or soccer outfit, she pretty much wears clothes that would raise an eyebrow if seen on a boy. I've told myself over and over that is because it's what I like. I'm the mother, I buy the clothes. I'm not going to go out of my way to buy things that are gender nuetral or less feminine simply to conform to some philosophy about parenting. If she expresses a preference when she is older, then we'll compromise.

But now she is getting ideas about her clothes, and it's a 100% a reflection of what I've taught her. She wants to wear girly, pink things (she can now actually ask to wear the pink whatever). I was most upset when she began to show that she placed an importance on being pretty. And this is all my fault. I thought by now, she would have enough hair to style, but she doesn't and so I'm trying to encourage her to wear clips. I put a huge bow in her hair and praised her for being, "pretty". And now, when we go out, she wants shoes and a "pretty". Huge parenting fail, in my opninion.

And then the most dangerous idea of all came out of my mouth and I wanted to kick myself.

As Lily approaches 2, she has gone from being pretty steadily in the 50% for height and the 25% for weight to about 50% for both. In short, she is not thinning out like I thought she probably would at this age. I was worried. Both her father and I were good sized toddlers and Bob shifted at about school age to slim and I went to chunky. I desperately DID NOT want Lily to have my weight issues. So I began to research what to do.

At least an hours out door play a day, going for a walk with the family daily and presenting her with mainly healthy foods.

So I went on an organic buying, home making rampage, held Lily hostage outside for an hour each day, weather permitting and bullied my husband out the door as often as I could. I also switched one of her bottles to reduced fat milk, but that was more to try and wean her off the calories so she'll sleep through the damn night. (it's working, slowly, but surely). But she REALLY likes her food and I can see little difference.

At about this time, Archer started to pack on weight. He now looks like someone that would like most at home in a rugby scrum. AND I PRAISED HIM. How beautiful I thought his legs were and how I loved him being so chubby. Bob said it was going to turn into muscle for playing football (we disagree about which code).

And I heard myself.

And I shut up about both my kids' bodies. These thoughts went from being fairly innocent, "Doesn't Lily look cute in pink?" to genuinely vile.

We're still eating better and trying to excercise, but that benefits everyone and now I'm determined to accept my daughter how she is.

And before you think we're beyond redemption, we were once agian talking about buying cloth nappies, and once again financies didn't permit, despite best efforts, BUT when were choosing them I asked Bob if we should get purple and Bob said, "And pink! Archer can totally wear a pink nappy."

All is not lost after all.

10 Reasons my Husband is Awesome

Today is Bob's 28th birthday. He asked that tonight there be pizza, beer and Skyrim. Fine by me.

But I also thought I'd devote a blog post to him.

It's too infrequent that I talk about the reasons that I love him, so I've compiled a list of the 10 reasons Bob is awesome.

10. He makes a great bacon and egg roll. He's also getting pretty great at BBQ.

9. He gives me foot massages whenever I ask, expecting nothing in return. In fact, EVERY DAY of the last two months I was pregnant he gave me one.

8. Even though he hates shopping, he indulges me about once a week without complaining (much).

7. He sees the best in everyone and everything without being naive. Equally, he is really accepting of people, no matter their quirk or difference.

6. He makes me laugh. His jokes are silly, but they make the tears roll down my face. He also does me the courtesy of laughing at my lame jokes.

5. He makes me feel beautiful. Even though I'm fat and covered in stretch marks at the moment, he is constantly reminding me of how beautiful he thinks I am. He says he doesn't mind my body because it's only like that because it gave him two beautful kids.

4. He is a breastfeeding cheerleader. From being the main person to convince me to do it int he first place, to beig supportive of my during all the little day to day "things" that come up. I couldn't have done it/ be doing it without him.

3. He works really hard to support our family so I don't have to work and can raise our babies.

2. He supports me as mother, trusting my decisions are the best for our family.

1. He is a great father. He adores his kids and does so much for them. From getting up every night with Lily (still) to changing every nappy on the weekend to playing games and reading books for hours. If something ever happaned to him, no man could ever live up to him as father. This is definately what amkes him the most awesome in my eyes.

Happy birthday. I love you more and more each day.

My kids are pretty awesome

Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Archer, having embraced his inner koala, has decided that the only appropriate way to sleep is curled into my side, clinging to my pyjama top, much like a koala joey. The kid can roll, so short of hog tying him and stapling his swaddle to the mattress, there's not a whole lot I can do about this. It means I don't sleep much and my back is acting up something fierce. Last night was especially bad because I decided he was going to sleep in his own bed, damnit. BAHAHAHAHA. Awwww, good try, Mummy. Obviously offended by my efforts, he decided that today, he was going to make up for the lost hour in bed with me and his father, by screaming everytime I even thought about putting him down. He's usually a much happier baby than this, and I actually didn't help matters by ramming my finger repeatedly in his mouth checking for teeth and an explainable source of his grumps.

Lily, blessedly slept through until 8:05, but decided it was a "no nap" day. For those that have never encountered a toddler outside of their local Maccas, that means that, even though she was tired and grumpy, she felt that she didn't need to nap. Most days this is okay, not great, but okay. But, after my night with Archer, I needed a nap. I battled it out for two hours (the usual length of her nap) and lost.

So, my mood was thunderous. I may or may not have gotten on gmail and messaged Bob that he could fucking stay fucking home while I went fucking back to fucking work. Or something.

When I asked Bob what I should write about in my blog this week, he suggested I write about all the great things our kids do. And I thought, after my day, this was actually pretty perfect.

Lily has had a personality explosion in the last little while. Not only is she communicating better, she's beginning to really exercise her social intelligence. Something we've been doing about 8 times a day lately is just looking at each other and giggling. Lily always initiates it and it's freaking ADORABLE. It's surprisingly cathartic, mood lifting and stress relieving just to laugh for no reason. She loves to come to you for cuddles, snuggling in tight and saying, "awww".

She's started to show some idea about her appearance. She wants to get dressed in the mornings and brush her hair and teeth. She gets stroppy if we don't put shoes on her if we're going out. She likes to pick out shoes for me. Lately, she's been carrying around one of those hair clip bows and demanding to have "pretty" put in her hair. Last night, Bob put one in his hair and she said, "Awww, pretty Daddy."

She likes to read us books. She asks to get on our "knee" and reads to us. Her favourite is A Great Day for Up by Dr Suess, but I think that's because she can read the word "up".

Several times throughout the day, music or no, she announces "DANS" and does a dance. It goes: wave arms in the air, the "we did it" arms from Dora the Explorer while stomping, twirl in a circle.

She's allowed to watch Playschool and Dora the Explorer. When the episode finishes, she waves bye bye and says, "Bye Ted/ Dora." And goes and turns the TV off.

She is developing a relationship with her brother. She gets excited to see him in the mornings and is upset when he's still sleeping. She makes an effort to soothe him when he's sad and likes to make him laugh. She says "shhhh" and is quiet when he's sleeping. She treats him as an equal, just yesterday putting her foot in his lap when he did the same to her. She also seems to want to include him in her plans for world domination, as evidence by her getting a large table knife out of the cutlery drawer and stomping over to him chanting his name, "Arch, Arch, Arch." Today, she played the giggling game with him, kissed hom twice voluntarially and then gave him a cuddle. They actually seem to really love each other.

Archer has also been developing rapidly these last few weeks. He wants to be up and about, looking around and is frustrated by anything that blocks his view of the world, even breastfeeding.

He cries to get your attention and then laughs his head off when he gets it (which, of course, we are enabling because it's too cute).

He is a regular chetterbox, talking up a storm whenever he feels the need to give a running commentary on his day.

His favourite thing to do right now is cuddle up with Daddy or Mummy and read a book with his sister. His first bookt hat he enjoyed? A Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle. The exact same as his sister.

And there you have it. Even when I'm about tear my hair out, turns out, my kids a pretty awesome.