Experiences with a (almost) Two Year Old

So this is a slightly retroactive post in that these occur before Lily turned two.

The last time I talked about taking Lily somewhere special, it was to Taronga Park Zoo when she was about 18 months old. And, it was fun, but it was very hard to tell if she got anything out of it and it was very hard work for not much reward, at the end of the day.

So, it was with some apprehension, Bob and I embarked on our first big outing since then.

I have been insisting for some time that we take the kids to the Easter Show.  On Saturday 14 April, we finally did it. I was freaking out a bit, because Bob insisted we drive to Hornsby station and catch the train from there. I'm not going to lie, this part was difficult. Physically and mentally, but the actual show was tons of fun.

Lily was beyond over excited about the farm animals, cheerily naming them all, surprising us when she correctly identified a donkey and astounding us when she spotted the turkeys in the poultry shed and excitedly ran over saying "Turkey! Gobble gobble." I still have no idea where she learned this. Her Fisher Price Little People Farm has a turkey, but it doesn't make the sound and I've never shown her. Once I saw turkeys on Playschool, but Lily rarely sits and watches TV and this was at least a month prior, probably more. Kid is a sponge.

She liked the idea of her showbag (a Dora one with hat, jewellery box, umbrella, lunch box and water bottle) and enjoyed tasting the show favourite, a dagwood dog. Archer wasn't quite as fond of the whole experience, overwhelmed by the people, sights, sounds and smells, but he had an alright day and was very pleased with the Cookie Monster rattle from his Sesame street Beginnings showbag, which matches the Elmo one from Lily's first Ekka in 2010.

Bob and I agreed it was lots of fun and we've decided we'll making it annual event.

On Monday, 30 April, we took Lily to the Hi 5 concert at Hornsby RSL. I was very nervous, I had no idea what it was going to be like and when telling Lily what we were doing, she seemed more bewildered than anything.

I'm pleased to say, it wasn't a failure. Lily was extremely overwhelmed, but was able to muster a few "Wow, Hi 5!"s, and towards the end, she did begin to dance and clap along with the songs. However, when they said bye bye (before an encore), she enthusiastically waved bye bye and announced, "Bye, Hi 5."

And she was done.

The encore was two much for her and while I danced along with Archie who loved every minute of it, Bob took Lily to buy this obnoxious torch that has spinning LED lights and plays the full Hi 5 theme. It only served to cement my belief that whole thing was little more than a toddler rave, as if the bright neon lights and toddlers going spastic over the bubble machine like first year uni students at 2 for 1 drinks didn't already tell me that.

But, ever since then she has spoken of her experience positively, has definitely become more enthusiastic for Hi 5 and just today was telling me the names of the actors. Last week I asked her if she'd like to go to a Dora concert like the Hi 5 one we just saw and she was very excited and has been excited to see the ad for this travesty ever since.

And I caved, undid my self imposed Nick Jnr. ban and bought some tickets. I accidentally bought tickets where you also get to meet Dora, trying to avoid the 145th row back from the stage, and I think this will be a disaster, but we'll see.

The following Saturday, having planned poorly because one was in May and the other April, never mind the dates and days, we took Lily on her planned birthday trip to Taronga Park Zoo. First of all there were a lot of adults there to help us, Mum, Grandma, Aunty Jayne, Uncle Jared and Vicki having made the trek with us. Second of all, 6 months makes a lot more difference than I ever anticipated.

Lily was flat out excited. She told us more names and animal sounds than we thought she knew, astounding us by very clearly pronouncing giraffe, which I would have thought was quite difficult for a child just getting her head around language. Her favourite animals this time, pipping the elephants from last time at the post, were the Chimpanzees or "Mun-kees". She even thought to tell us about them on the trip home with no prompting. As the males were putting on quite the display, I'm not surprised they made an impression.

What did surprise me was, when let loose in the gift shop, allowed to chose something from Mummy and Daddy AND Grandma and Bucky, she settled on a llama. An ugly, stiff legged thing which to me doesn't seem appealing or huggable. We must have shown her every other thing in the store, but she barely even spared them a second glance, gripping this silly thing fiercely. So that's what she got. And now it resides in her bed with her six other bed friends. (Oh, I know you're wondering. There's a bed time Dora, who's been loved until she is Satan's creepiest friend, with matted electric shock hair and scratched out eyes, a Fisher Price my first dolly called Baby who was her little friend in the NICU, Lucky the puppy who was bought by Bucky when I was very first put in hospital, a bear intended as a sensory toy for infants that she recently discovered in Archer's toy box (it WAS hers) called Bear, Jessie from Toy Story and a tiger who used to "live" under my bed as a child and was under hers, but she insists he sleeps at the foot of her bed.)

So, taking Lily out has become a delight. She is interested, learns things and behaves well. I hope this continues because I'd love to make such outings a regular thing. 

How Premmie Mums are Chosen

Tomorrow is Mothers' Day and it is my third. This Mothers' Day, like the one before it, I have been reflecting on my first Mothers' Day. Lily was born on the Thursday before Mothers' Day and the Saturday night before, some elves visited the NICU and left presents. Part of those present packs was a magnet bearing a poem. I sincerely can't tell you what else was contained in that little bag, but I've treasured that poem ever since.

My friend Jess has just delivered her second baby. A second little girl and a premmie. Baby Girl Maitland (name yet to be announced) was born at 35+6 and is doing as well as a full term bub. However, in the road of parenting a prem, even those who are as amazing and "late" term as Baby Girl Maitland, sometimes little bumps in the road are found. Whether it's as simple as some old biddy saying something ignorant about our child's weight, someone saying something just a little insensitive about our baby's early than expected delivery or our own frustrations at slow development.

Whenever I've had bumps in the road with Lily because she was premature, I've returned to this poem and it has been wonderful. So this is for Jess, on her third Mothers' Day and her first as a premmie mum. May your road be smooth, but if it is not, may you find the comfort in these words that I have.

How Preemie Moms Are Chosen by Erma Bombeck
Did you ever wonder how the mothers of premature babies are chosen?

Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth, selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint, Matthew.
 Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia.
Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint...give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."

Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a preemie."

The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."
"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a premature baby a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel."

"But does she have the patience?" asks the angel.
"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has a world of its own. She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy."

"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you." God smiles.
"No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect She has just the right amount of selfishness."

The angel gasps, "Selfishness?! Is that a virtue?"
God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't know it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says momma for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see-- ignorance, cruelty, prejudice-- and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."

"And what about her Patron Saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in the air.
God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

Where's Ollie?

So, I've been a bit absent lately. A long bout of illness, helping Grandma and Mum move in (YAY), preparing for Lily's party and reactivating my World of Warcraft have all gotten in the way of blogging. I owe 1 weaning blog (it's a good one too! about homemade vs store bought cost effectiveness) and have another blog about Lily up my sleeve. And then there'll be Lily's second birthday post. So they are all planned, just sitting down to write them has been a bit of an effort lately. But I really wanted to write this blog today. Today was the first day that Nick Jr has removed Ollie, the Australian muppet, from their programming schedule. Both my kids love Ollie. I love Ollie. His little inbetween segments were fabulous. I remember when Lily was very small, I'd make a point of having Ollie on for the days of the week song, which marked breakfast time. Even today, as busy as she is, she will stop what she is doing and say "Ah-yi!" and watch him when he comes on. Archer will stop crying, breastfeeding, playing, whatever it is he is doing to watch Ollie as well. I'll miss that fluffy yellow monster. I can hear everyone reading this thinking "Get a grip woman, it's just a TV show!" One of my problems is that, while okay, the new show, Didi and B is not as good as Ollie. They are cute, but Ollie was awesome. BUT I'm sure I'll get used to them, and children's programming is, and always has been, cyclical. I'll get over it, my kids won't even remember next week. My real problem lies in how it was executed. Didi and B has been advertised for a while now. From the advertising, I was under the impression it was a full half hour show, not the 5 minute segment it is. And, for all the advertising, not once was it acknowledge that it would be replacing Ollie, who is a very popular little dude. Not only that, when I went to check on the Nick Jr facebook page if anyone was talking about it, the comments were no longer visible, which I'm assuming is in response to the absolute hysteria when Nick Jr America removed Moose and Zee earlier this year. So, rather than respond to complaints (as hysterical as some them were) Nick Jr simply removed people's ability to complain publicly to them. So then I went to the Nick Jr Australia website. And he's gone. And I felt creeped out, angry and annoyed. This kind of aggressive decision making on behalf of the consumer, with a 1984 esque way of executing it, no matter the age group of the consumer, is really quite unsettling. I think we'll be watching a lot more ABC Kids in our house, if only just to catch some Seasame Street muppet action. I also think we won't be buying much more Nick Jr merchandise, which is already horrendously overpriced for the quality (which, FTR, is actually quite good). Just disappointed and frustrated that I've actually had to see such a creepy level of consumer targeting on our favourite channel here in Maidens house. And, just so you know, Lily is far too busy to watch much TV (although I do keep it on, because otherwise I feel a bit lonely) and we balance it with plenty of other games, books and outside play.

Archie is 6 Months!

My sweet little man is 6 months old. And I can hardly believe it.

He can (finally) roll both ways, he can shuffle himself forwards and backwards across the floor in pursuit of toys and other items relevant to his interests, he is almost able to sit unsupported (I just experimented, about 30 seconds from when I let go to topple). He loves his solid food, and if you aren't quick he will literally snatch food off your plate or utensil because purees are apparently overrated. He loves his sister. He is quick to laugh and smile and is generous with his kisses.

He likes to read books, especially when his sister is doing the reading, he loves Ollie, the Australian muppet from Nick Jr. His jumperoo is the best toy ever, but rattles, the baby in the mirror and anything that Lily is interested in are pretty good too.

He is just beautiful.

Sanctiparent.

So, Archer is coming up to having his six month vaccines. Which means it is exactly two months since I found out an acquaintance does not vaccinate their children because "it's too much of a shock to the system".

Normally, I would try and forget these things, it's honestly none of my business, and as long as my children are vaccinated, which they are and always will be, it's not a huge deal. I could go on a bit about herd immunity here, but I won't, because that's a bit like beating a dead horse when it comes to the anti-vax crowd.

But I sort of feel like this person traps us into talking about our parenting simply to judge us.

When Bob couldn't come up with a solid argument about vaccine efficacy and benefits beyond "That's not how it works, dickhead." (I'm the researcher in this household), this Sanctidparent did the "I'm so smug because I've done the research. Poison your kids with the dreaded vaccines if you like, my kids will be HEALTHY."

Also, I was little shocked, because I have often read anti-vaxxers on places like BabyCenter swear up one side and down another they always tell parents of newborns that their children aren't vaccinated because that is what is responsible, because newborns are vulnerable to vaccinable diseases, especially whooping cough, which is becoming ever more prevalent in western communities.

But not a peep, not when Bob was coming into contact with this person day after day when our son was just 2 weeks old. They only decided to comment when Bob commented that we vaccinated. Complete scumbag act in my opinion.

My rage over that subsided. Archer was now vaccinated and no ill had come of it, so we'd continue to parent our way and their family their way, with my rant kept just between Bob and me.

And then we moved Archer to his cot and out came Sanctiparent again. "What are you doing? You can't do that! He's too young! Petri Dish the Youngest (PDY) still sleeps in our bed at 2.5, so PDY can breastfeed several times a night."

First of all, let's be honest here, some of indignation here was born of jealousy, as I had wanted to breastfeed Lily at least until two, but wasn't able to.

Second of all, we moved Archer to his cot because while we don't mind co-sleeping, it's really not for us. And he had well and truly outgrown the bassinet. We don't sleep well and neither have either of our children when we co-sleep. Lily co-slept exclusively for about a month at 15 months and then just stopped. Won't even entertain the idea now, no matter how sick she is or how tired we are.

And honestly, I always thought that as long as you were employing SIDS safe techniques, most people don't really give a crap how or where your kid sleeps. Unless you are an incredible arsehole. Or a Sanctiparent.

After venting to a mummy friend about it, I felt better. I still really felt like we had innocently commented on our parenting choices, in a non aggressive, shooting the breeze, kind of way and been attacked, but once again I had had my rant and was pretty over it.

And then Bob got me going again. Everytime he tells me something about this person, he begins it the same way, "I have something to tell you. You're going to be mad."

Apparently PDY had had a temperature last night over 40 degrees (wait, I thought you didn't vaccinate so your kids would be healthier?). And Sanctiparent, apparently as weird about hospitals as vaccines, did not take PDY to the doctor. Now, I can understand. Paeditricians spend 10 years training just to line kids up in emergency rooms and inject them with vaccines and unnecessary antibiotics without even looking at them. It's terrifying. They wield a needle filled with diseases, mercury and foetuses in one hand and penicillian in the other and just jab away. That's why we avoid the shit out of those places.

Or not.

The reason a child of that age needs to see a doctor when they have such a high temperature is that fevers of this degree, while often caused by viruses, can be the sign of much more sinister things. Blood and urine tests should be performed, as well as a check of all the usual places kids get gross things going on, such as ears and throat. A temperature of 40 degress is not normal, and a tiny body is probably trying to tell you something when it heats itself that high. They are also at risk of febrile seizures.

Additonally, fevers are sometimes the first sign of diseases that are vaccine preventable, like measles. Which my son, at almsot 6 months cannot be vaccinated for for another 6 months.

For fuck's sake, just vaccinate your kids, moron.

A Furious Rant for Easter

I have been following the story of little Gracee Broom who is the child of an Australian family who had the misfortune of being born in America at 24 weeks gestation. Although the family had travel insurance with Aami, Aami is refusing to contribute to Gracee's medical care because the pregnancy was a pre existing condition and Gracee herself was not mentioned in the original policy.

Gracee's care costs $5000 per day, and the delivery cost the family $40000. Gracee is now 32 weeks old and won't be released at least until her due date.

Like all micro prems, she is a warrior to be humbled by.

Tonight her family's story was featured on channel 7, 9 and 10 news and so out march the trolls.

Well, one troll. He demanded to know how this family can expect donations or help, especially government help.

My head nearly blew off.

I had my say (obviously. Sweet, demur woman I am), and he retorts with the information that he had a 32 weeker and because he had her in another state, they had expenses they had to cover, with no help. I got a wee bit personal, demanding to know if he accepted the Baby Bonus and if he accepts either or both Family Tax benefits, and I might have said perhaps his child's care should only have been covered up until his contribution to Medicare had run out. I also pointed out that the cost for a 32 weeker was roughly $40000 (which we found out when Medibank Private sent us the fully paid invoice for Lily's care and delivery. They didn't want anything but for us to acknowledge they had been very good to us) and queried as to whether he knew the true cost of the care of a premmie. Anyway, I got it all off my chest, pointing out the cost for Gracee's care would have been the same in Australia, the tax payer just would have footed the bill without even realising it and he seems to have either logged off for the night or acknowledged he was a wanker.

But I can't leave it there. I can't tell someone off for being an insenstive arsehole and not DO something active.

So I implore to you to donate to Gracee's Appeal, either with cash or by getting involved in the auction that wonderful friends and family are running.

No family deserves this, Gracee certainly doesn't deserve this, and if you have a spare $5, or are looking to do a bit of philanthropy, please consider donating to this family.

Nothing is sometimes wonderful.

This weekend was cheerily busy. Such weekends are sometimes easily forgotten and I think it's worth devoting a blog post to it. It wasn't marked by anything special, but I feel great after it.

Saturday started out with Archer's most successful swimming lesson ever! He actually seemed excited to be in the water. We also got the children's achievement charts. Lily, at 23 months is very close to filling her chart, which means she can graduate to a preschool class. She was delighted with all her stars! Archer even has two stars! What a clever boy!

Then poor Oscar had to go to the vet because we've had a case of fleas here we haven't been able to kick. $200.00 later he is a much happier dog.

After that was some grocery shopping. We picked up some Easter eggs and Easter cookie cutters for gifts for Lily's kindy class.

And then I decided to tackle our garden. Our poor garden was a bit sad when we arrived, it's previous owners obviously devoid of garden love, and it hasn't gotten better. Happily, it hasn't gotten worse. So I gave it some TLC while Bob supervised the babies in the paddling pool. It looks much nicer now, but I fear it needs the true love of a professional. I also fear I may have pulled out some plants, as there is one spot that looks a little blanker than it should.

After that, I walked to Spotlight (no kids!) and got the finishing details for the Kindy Easter gifts, some sweet cellophane bags and a cute make your own Easter gift tag kit.

When I got home, I set about my project. I made 9 Easter gift tags. One for each of Lily's classmates and 2 for each of her teachers.

Then I made some playdough. We had all the ingredients, and as Woolies had food colouring on sale, I was able to make 7 different colours by adding 2 new colours to my stock. Pink, blue, purple, green, yellow, orange and red. It was really easy, fun and quick, not to mention cheap. I followed this recipe(minus the scented oils) and it made close to a cup of playdough per child. Including the teacher's eggs and the cookies cutters, I got change from $20, plus the enjoyment of the project. And each of Lily's class mates got an Easter cookie cutter and some playdough. Much nicer than chocolate or lollies for toddlers, IMO.

Bob cooked hamburgers from scratch, which, if you've ever encountered my husband's culinary skills before, you'll agree was a wonderful feat.

After dinner and after the kids were in bed (did I mention we have them on the same bedtime less than a week out from putting them in the same room?), I made the next two purees for Archer's weaning, carrots and apples.

Then we watched an episode of Game of Thrones, cleaned up and went to bed.

Sunday morning we decided to flea bomb as Grandma's dogs and cat will be staying here a few nights as they settle in to their new apartment. We weren't sure there were any fleas besides on Oscar, but we did it to be safe. Bob also had a soccer game, so it worked out perfectly in terms of length of time we had to be out of the house. We took the cat to Grandma's place and took Oscar to soccer.

As soon as we arrived at soccer, it became clear Lily was grumpy. Her nose was running, she kept getting mad at the bubbles I was blowing for her when they popped and she refused to get interested in her toddler sized soccer ball. And then archer joined in the chorus. I took them to some nearby seats, got out more toys and sat down to feed Archer. Just as he started to eat, Lily started to cry. She was COVERED in ants. I quickly brushed her off and she was bite free, but I felt we were best off heading to the car while Archer ate.

I put the air con on for a few minutes to cool the car off, and then sat Lily in the driver's seat and myself in the passenger seat. AND LEFT THE RADIO GOING.

Lily cheerily played with the buttons on the radio and honked the horn. At one point she switched the windscreen wipers on. I didn't even THINK of the headlights. Then she asked to watch her DVD player, so I turned the car off and started the DVD. It said it had low battery, so I decided for the few more minutes we would be in the car, it would be okay to let the battery charge. But the car wouldn't start.

Uh oh.

Meanwhile, the kids are both in long sleeves and it has gotten hot.

I panic and call Bob away from the soccer game. He calls NRMA, who signs us up for a mere $275 (we needed to join and it's 2 years roadside assist, so actually, it was good) and told us we'd be on our way in under 90 minutes as we had been prioritised because of the children.

Blessedly, there was a Maccas across the road, so we had an early lunch (the staff turned a blind eye to Oscar) and Lily played in the playground. After we'd been waiting an hour, Bob headed back to the soccer field with Lily and I took Archer inside the adjoining shopping centre. I changed his nappy and his clothes and he immediately fell asleep. Then I found him a VERY exciting clothing item for $5 at Kmart, and that's all you can know right now.

And right on an hour and half from hanging up with NRMA, we were on our way. We got the cat and headed home.

We spent a relaxing afternoon napping and playing outside.

And then it happened.

After dinner, Bob took the cushions off the lounge to vacuum it after the flea bomb. It's a white lounge and I KNEW it was dirty, I have two kids under two, a dog, a cat and a husband, of course it was dirty. But it was REALLY bad. I felt so sad. Right now we can't afford to get it professionally cleaned and I do try really hard to look after our nice things, and Grandma had gifted us this lounge. Busy with two children, if accidents happened, I have only spot cleaned them and the lounge was covered in water rings and was just plain dirty. I decided to clean it. Preen carpet cleaner in hand I got aggressive, but it wasn't getting any better. I Googled it. Steam clean or professional clean. Great. I felt there had to be a better way. So I cobbled together a few of the common cleaning items we had and typed "Can I clean my white fabric lounge with vinegar, bi carb and lemon" and set Google to work.

I came up with 2 cups warm water, 1 scoop ordinary laundry detergent and a splash of white vinegar. I soaked a chux in the mixture and, barely squeezing it out, coated the arms and seats of the lounge. I left it for a bit, maybe 20 minutes, and then Bob scrubbed it with fresh, warm water. The result was AMAZING. It does need a professional clean, but Bob and I think if we do it once a week for a month and then monthly thereafter, we can keep it nice. Much nicer than it was.

Then I baked a banana cake and tidied up for the day. And after this blog is written, I'm going to have a shower and go to bed.

What a wonderfully, rewarding, relaxing weekend of absolutely nothing.