This post is about poo, or rather, the lack thereof. Consider yourself warned.
Ever since we started solids with Lily at around 5.5 months, she has had some ongoing issues with poo. Constipation often goes hand in hand with starting solids, so this was no surprise at first. We usually cleared it up with prune juice, warm baths and massages. It never really lasted more than 3 days at a time.
As she grew, she would occasionally suffer bouts of constipation, especially during a food strike or, more accurately, a fruit strike, which she goes through about a week out of every month. She just doesn't like sweet things and on occasion, fruit is considered to be as distasteful as lollies and chocolates are the rest of the time.
Now that she is almost two, Lily eats very well most of the time. She will taste everything put in front of her, even if it's being introduced for the first time. Her diet includes sushi, curry, soups, pasta, rice, meats, fish, cheese. ANYTHING the average family eats, Lily has enjoyed at some point. She does like McDonalds, especially the chips and "bikkies", which is just her general word for sweet and savoury biscuits of all kinds but her favourite foods are vegetables. Broccoli, corn, potato, pumpkin, sweet potato, carrot, peas. They invariably disappear first at meal time and she has been known to knock back a whole plate of dinner because the meal failed to feature broccoli. She also eats a lot of whole grains, her favourite breakfast being organic peanut butter (tastes to me like pre chewed peanuts, but she loves it)on multigrain toast and apple slices. She drinks water like it's going out of style and normally eats at least a little bit at each meal. So why and how she gets constipated is beyond me.
But she does and this week was the worst ever bout she has suffered.
I'm pretty sure she had a dirty nappy Monday, but from Tuesday, there was no movement at the station. She got increasingly grumpy, restless, unable to sleep and was refusing to eat. On Saturday lunch time, she cried and strained, but nothing happened. By Saturday dinner she was trying to go again. Screaming, refusing to eat her dinner, sweating and straining. We decided to Dr Google it and felt the best course of action, as our GP was closed, was a warm bath. But when Bob took her nappy off, she had a swear of jelly like stuff that definitely had a bit of blood in it. And if we touched her belly or bottom, she would scream and shove our hands away. So I called the free health nurse line and she said she'd transfer us to a doctor, but felt we'd need to see a doctor that night. The doctor we spoke to agreed.
I dispatched Bob to the Gosford Hospital emergency room at 8:30pm with a bag of toys, books and colouring in the size and weight of Lily and stayed home with Archer, anxiously cleaning and tidying, trying to keep myself busying and not worried.
They finally arrived home at 11:30 and Lily was relieved. She had been given a gel suppository and had passed a blockage roughly the dimensions of a golf ball and then a large normal poo. When I scooped her up as she came delightedly running in the door, she felt lighter. Bob said, shoes on, pre poo she had weighed 13kg. I would say she had easily shed 500g or more. It was like the feeling you get when you pick up a baby when you're used to carrying a toddler around.
And today, although tired, she has been back to being her usual sunny self, eating homemade raspberry pancakes, apple slices and sultanas at breakfast, potato and leek soup for lunch and butter chicken, rice and vegetables for dinner.
I felt really bad for her, but the doctor confirmed we aren't doing anything wrong in what she eats and drinks and said next time just to try a child laxative before it gets so bad.
To celebrate, Archer had his first nappy blow out in months. Hooray for poo.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Teeth?
Archer is teething. Well, more accurately, I THINK he's teething.
As with many children cutting their first teeth, this has been going on for some time. Drooling (which is, for the record, my most hated of things about babies. Give me cluster feeding and pooy nappies over a well chewed hand or a string of luke warm dribble any day), days of the incredible grumps, light fevers, weird nappies and exhausting sleep patterns.
But, for the last week or so, it has definately ramped up. If left to his own devices, he will soak his shirt and tummy mat in under five minutes. He chews his hand incessantly, and, for a child who normally sleeps very well, he's been sleeping awfully. He's also been chewing ME, which Lily never did and I am not a fan of. On Monday night he woke up every hour on the hour. I was sure the next day we'd have teeth. But no such luck.
They are sitting there, just below the surface, visible and tormenting me. "Haha! Here I am to rob you and Archie of your sleep and make your nipples sore."
Did I mention that I hate teething?
I hope they cut soon. I'm exhausted, Archie is not himself and I happen to think babies with teeth are much cuter.
Wish us luck and think toothy thoughts!
As with many children cutting their first teeth, this has been going on for some time. Drooling (which is, for the record, my most hated of things about babies. Give me cluster feeding and pooy nappies over a well chewed hand or a string of luke warm dribble any day), days of the incredible grumps, light fevers, weird nappies and exhausting sleep patterns.
But, for the last week or so, it has definately ramped up. If left to his own devices, he will soak his shirt and tummy mat in under five minutes. He chews his hand incessantly, and, for a child who normally sleeps very well, he's been sleeping awfully. He's also been chewing ME, which Lily never did and I am not a fan of. On Monday night he woke up every hour on the hour. I was sure the next day we'd have teeth. But no such luck.
They are sitting there, just below the surface, visible and tormenting me. "Haha! Here I am to rob you and Archie of your sleep and make your nipples sore."
Did I mention that I hate teething?
I hope they cut soon. I'm exhausted, Archie is not himself and I happen to think babies with teeth are much cuter.
Wish us luck and think toothy thoughts!
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
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 threeplus, 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!
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
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!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, February 10, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, January 27, 2012
The week that was.
This post doesn't really have a specific theme to it. It's just an update on how we're going down here, because I vowed I'd post at least once a week, and so far I've stuck with that!
Viral gastroenteritis went thorugh the house this week. First Lily, who binge ate last night to make up for her almost week long food strike. She ate: Broccoli, pumpkin, corn, half a small sausage, a few bites of Daddy's lamb korma and rice, naan and yoghurt. Her tummy was HUGE after it, but I didn't mind as between Friday night, when she got sick, and Wednesday she ate maybe a cup of food total and only ate very small meals until last night, when she ate everything she could see.
Next was Archer. This was quite the experience for Bob and I as, while Lily had had colic and had gotten a few colds and things, she had never been sick like this. After a feed, everything would literally flood out of him, in great waves of slightly sour milk. He would soak himself, me, the nursing pillow (rest in peace) and the lounge. He didn't seem especially phased by it, but did become dehydrated. We just kept his fluids up and he's fine now. There was the slight problem that I wanted him to be in his bed, on his Angelcare, in case he stopped breathing after a vomit and he wanted to be in our bed because he was miserable. He won.
And then Bob got sick. Now I don't like to invoke the law of the man cold, especially as he was really very unwell, but let's just say the kids handled it quite a bit better than he did.
And me? Well, I never got sick. This was devastating as I REALLY felt like a bout of gastro would really help me shift a bit of baby weight. Nevermind.
Bob had Friday off this week as we had vaguely planned to do something for our anniversary and chose this weekend so we'd have four days with the Thursday Australia Day holiday. We decided, after signifcant badgering on my part, to go to Taronga Zoo.
It took us hours to prepare. I made huge lunches, packed clothing for 8 different weather occasions, most of them improbable and enough nappies to last until the apocalypse.
The morning started out diasterously. Archer was in NO MOOD and Lily pitched a fit when we left the house because she didn't have her shoes on as we find this is a barrier to her napping in the car and as she had gotten up a whole hour earlier than usual, we wanted her to nap.
When we arrived, I was in a mood so thunderous, I sincerely wanted to stomp my foot and demand to be returned home like a toddler. Archer had screamed for the better part of the 1.5 hour journey and Lily hadn't napped. That, coupled with the fact we'd wisely decided to put a Dora DVD on in the car, I was going to EAT the next person that annoyed me. Usually this is Bob, but this happened to be an unwary toddler and it's neglectful mother.
This kid ran full pelt straight in front of our easily 40kg pram (12kg of pram, plus 12 of toddler, plus 6.5kg of infant, plus easily 10kg of extra stuff), into another child, who was standing in group smack in the middle of the path and HEADBUTTED him. How Bob didn't clean him up, I'll never know. And I said "Watch your kids!", which illicited a round of protests from these idiots and their snowflakes. But I wasn't about to ruin my day even further by engaging.
My day conituned to stay unimproved by the fact that Bob INSISTED we see the Australian animals first. It took easily 15 minutes to find them, including a detour via the giraffes ("Giraffe!" exclaimed Lily, and promptly lost interest). Lily, bored, began to work her way towards an epic tantrum, and so did I, frustrated by how badly our trip was going. It's probably worth noting, Archer had not stopped fussing this entire time.
And then we found the Australian animals and things took a turn for the better. Lily saw the spinifex hopping mice and I don't think she's ever been so excited. "Mouse! Mouse!" And despite seeing animals that I felt were signifcantly more interesting, she continued to go on and on about the mice for the better part of an hour. Bob summed it up by saying, "I'm so glad we came all the way to Taronga Zoo for her to get the most excited about about something she can see at a pet shop anytime."
She did show a spurt of interest in the Tasmanian Devil joeys (dogs), but the mice were still, apparently, more exciting.
Her excitement about the mice waned when she saw the pig in the children's zoo. The "mig" was the stinkiest creature I've ever come across, and apparently took the same shine to Lily as she took to him because he came over and snuffled the fence where she was standing, biting the lock. I assume he though she looked like a delicious snack. Not appropriately worried about losing a finger, I decided it was time to move Lily on.
She was flat out terrified of the gorillas, which made me sad, because they are my second favourites (otters being my favourite) and was in awe of the lions. They were sitting very close to the glass and Lily's jaw actually dropped cartoon style when she saw them. "Whoa," was all she had to say.
And here, I detour to say: How disgusting are people? The lioness, frustrated by the idiots with their flashing cameras (umm, who uses a flash to take photos of things behind glass?) growled. And, rather than seeing this as a sign to leave the poor woman alone, people began banging on the glass to get her to do it again. She headbutted the glass in a clear "Fuck off" gesture. Instead of leaving her well enough alone, people contiuned to bang the glass. I turned and walked away. I seriously hate people like this. And, I might say that it's ALWAYS forgeiners. And no, I'm not singling out a race under a veil here. Americans, Europeans of all sorts, Asians. They always manage to be the people doing the dumbest shit. The ones at the lion enclosure were NESB Europeans.
As a second detour, at the emu enclosure, an emu was eating something off the wall (nothing a person had left, some organic looking stuff) and a tourist (Asian, FTR) decided to help by pushing it closer. I said, "They bite." And he either didn't understand or didn't care, because he continued to do it. Bob wouldn't let me stay to see him get bit, although it would have damn near made my day.
She liked the elephants, cheerily trumpting at them but she also pretty excited by the cable cars. We said she could on at the very end of our day.
Anyway, we decided now was the time to stop for a break. Archer had been fussy all day, and I wanted to try and nurse him to sleep (third detour, everytime I turned a corner, there was an uncovered nursing mum. I don't know if it's the proximity of the nursing mum chimpanzees and gorillas, and people are getting their inner ape on, or what, but I have never seen so many uncovered nursing mums in one place. This was good, as Archer was being a fussy nurser and kept pulling off, exposing my goods to the whole world). We had also been told to not bother with the baby tigers until at least 3 as they were napping and having health checks until then, and it was only 1:45. I decided to nurse him at the chimpanzee enclousure because I thought Lily might want to watch them for a while (mun-kee ba - monkey baby). As we got ready to leave, I commented to Bob that, since the hiccup of the morning, she had been an ANGEL, no nap and all. Bob agreed and we planned to let her choose a little something at the gift shop. She asked to get into the pram at this point and, on the way to see the otters, zonked out. Sweet, sweet baby girl.
The otters were making baby otters, so we didn't stay there for long, as its not quite as fun to watch this as watching them play.
And then we went to see the baby tigers. THey were sleeping, and as disappointed as I thought I should be by this, I was totally just tired and ready to go home. We didn't bother to wake Lily for the cable cars and instead walked to the exit.
Overall, the day was successful and we plan to go again for Lily's second birthday. This time we'll take her on the cable cars and, as a birthday present, buy her an animal encounter (feeding the giraffes, probably). But until then, shoot me if I mention such a big day out.
Viral gastroenteritis went thorugh the house this week. First Lily, who binge ate last night to make up for her almost week long food strike. She ate: Broccoli, pumpkin, corn, half a small sausage, a few bites of Daddy's lamb korma and rice, naan and yoghurt. Her tummy was HUGE after it, but I didn't mind as between Friday night, when she got sick, and Wednesday she ate maybe a cup of food total and only ate very small meals until last night, when she ate everything she could see.
Next was Archer. This was quite the experience for Bob and I as, while Lily had had colic and had gotten a few colds and things, she had never been sick like this. After a feed, everything would literally flood out of him, in great waves of slightly sour milk. He would soak himself, me, the nursing pillow (rest in peace) and the lounge. He didn't seem especially phased by it, but did become dehydrated. We just kept his fluids up and he's fine now. There was the slight problem that I wanted him to be in his bed, on his Angelcare, in case he stopped breathing after a vomit and he wanted to be in our bed because he was miserable. He won.
And then Bob got sick. Now I don't like to invoke the law of the man cold, especially as he was really very unwell, but let's just say the kids handled it quite a bit better than he did.
And me? Well, I never got sick. This was devastating as I REALLY felt like a bout of gastro would really help me shift a bit of baby weight. Nevermind.
Bob had Friday off this week as we had vaguely planned to do something for our anniversary and chose this weekend so we'd have four days with the Thursday Australia Day holiday. We decided, after signifcant badgering on my part, to go to Taronga Zoo.
It took us hours to prepare. I made huge lunches, packed clothing for 8 different weather occasions, most of them improbable and enough nappies to last until the apocalypse.
The morning started out diasterously. Archer was in NO MOOD and Lily pitched a fit when we left the house because she didn't have her shoes on as we find this is a barrier to her napping in the car and as she had gotten up a whole hour earlier than usual, we wanted her to nap.
When we arrived, I was in a mood so thunderous, I sincerely wanted to stomp my foot and demand to be returned home like a toddler. Archer had screamed for the better part of the 1.5 hour journey and Lily hadn't napped. That, coupled with the fact we'd wisely decided to put a Dora DVD on in the car, I was going to EAT the next person that annoyed me. Usually this is Bob, but this happened to be an unwary toddler and it's neglectful mother.
This kid ran full pelt straight in front of our easily 40kg pram (12kg of pram, plus 12 of toddler, plus 6.5kg of infant, plus easily 10kg of extra stuff), into another child, who was standing in group smack in the middle of the path and HEADBUTTED him. How Bob didn't clean him up, I'll never know. And I said "Watch your kids!", which illicited a round of protests from these idiots and their snowflakes. But I wasn't about to ruin my day even further by engaging.
My day conituned to stay unimproved by the fact that Bob INSISTED we see the Australian animals first. It took easily 15 minutes to find them, including a detour via the giraffes ("Giraffe!" exclaimed Lily, and promptly lost interest). Lily, bored, began to work her way towards an epic tantrum, and so did I, frustrated by how badly our trip was going. It's probably worth noting, Archer had not stopped fussing this entire time.
And then we found the Australian animals and things took a turn for the better. Lily saw the spinifex hopping mice and I don't think she's ever been so excited. "Mouse! Mouse!" And despite seeing animals that I felt were signifcantly more interesting, she continued to go on and on about the mice for the better part of an hour. Bob summed it up by saying, "I'm so glad we came all the way to Taronga Zoo for her to get the most excited about about something she can see at a pet shop anytime."
She did show a spurt of interest in the Tasmanian Devil joeys (dogs), but the mice were still, apparently, more exciting.
Her excitement about the mice waned when she saw the pig in the children's zoo. The "mig" was the stinkiest creature I've ever come across, and apparently took the same shine to Lily as she took to him because he came over and snuffled the fence where she was standing, biting the lock. I assume he though she looked like a delicious snack. Not appropriately worried about losing a finger, I decided it was time to move Lily on.
She was flat out terrified of the gorillas, which made me sad, because they are my second favourites (otters being my favourite) and was in awe of the lions. They were sitting very close to the glass and Lily's jaw actually dropped cartoon style when she saw them. "Whoa," was all she had to say.
And here, I detour to say: How disgusting are people? The lioness, frustrated by the idiots with their flashing cameras (umm, who uses a flash to take photos of things behind glass?) growled. And, rather than seeing this as a sign to leave the poor woman alone, people began banging on the glass to get her to do it again. She headbutted the glass in a clear "Fuck off" gesture. Instead of leaving her well enough alone, people contiuned to bang the glass. I turned and walked away. I seriously hate people like this. And, I might say that it's ALWAYS forgeiners. And no, I'm not singling out a race under a veil here. Americans, Europeans of all sorts, Asians. They always manage to be the people doing the dumbest shit. The ones at the lion enclosure were NESB Europeans.
As a second detour, at the emu enclosure, an emu was eating something off the wall (nothing a person had left, some organic looking stuff) and a tourist (Asian, FTR) decided to help by pushing it closer. I said, "They bite." And he either didn't understand or didn't care, because he continued to do it. Bob wouldn't let me stay to see him get bit, although it would have damn near made my day.
She liked the elephants, cheerily trumpting at them but she also pretty excited by the cable cars. We said she could on at the very end of our day.
Anyway, we decided now was the time to stop for a break. Archer had been fussy all day, and I wanted to try and nurse him to sleep (third detour, everytime I turned a corner, there was an uncovered nursing mum. I don't know if it's the proximity of the nursing mum chimpanzees and gorillas, and people are getting their inner ape on, or what, but I have never seen so many uncovered nursing mums in one place. This was good, as Archer was being a fussy nurser and kept pulling off, exposing my goods to the whole world). We had also been told to not bother with the baby tigers until at least 3 as they were napping and having health checks until then, and it was only 1:45. I decided to nurse him at the chimpanzee enclousure because I thought Lily might want to watch them for a while (mun-kee ba - monkey baby). As we got ready to leave, I commented to Bob that, since the hiccup of the morning, she had been an ANGEL, no nap and all. Bob agreed and we planned to let her choose a little something at the gift shop. She asked to get into the pram at this point and, on the way to see the otters, zonked out. Sweet, sweet baby girl.
The otters were making baby otters, so we didn't stay there for long, as its not quite as fun to watch this as watching them play.
And then we went to see the baby tigers. THey were sleeping, and as disappointed as I thought I should be by this, I was totally just tired and ready to go home. We didn't bother to wake Lily for the cable cars and instead walked to the exit.
Overall, the day was successful and we plan to go again for Lily's second birthday. This time we'll take her on the cable cars and, as a birthday present, buy her an animal encounter (feeding the giraffes, probably). But until then, shoot me if I mention such a big day out.
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