2006 - Labour of Love
31 December 2006, 22:24
Does that make me sound like a wanker?
2006 was one crazy year, inscripted by one magnanimous offering – Scout McG. I thought it might be worth (for me, that is) doing a month-by-month retrospective to contemplate how she’s grown (and how we’ve survived)!
January
- Scout McG born at 3.59 a.m. (pre-dawn!) on 22 Jan, the hottest day of this year.
- Two weeks later, Scout achieves maximum projection on a turbo-boosted rocket poo.
February
- First smile, not wind-related (we presume).
- Scouts uncanny likeness to Astroboy is noted.
March
- Scout’s first flight, on Virgin Blue to Adelaide.
- Scout perfects the raspberry.
April
- Scout’s first laugh (actually a “titter”).
- Scout rolls from front to back.
- Mother’s Group starts – my lifesaver.
May
- The Catnapping bug strikes – Scout physically unable to nap for longer than 45 mins through the day.
- Mum (ahem, me) diagnosed with mild PND, prescribed antidepressants but declines them in favour of a good night’s sleep. Still forthcoming.
- Move little Scout to her own room. Wondered why we hadn’t done it weeks ago.
- Scout loses voice from talking too much.
June
- Forget two-year wedding anniversary (mum and dad).
- Sits unsupported (mostly Scout, but Mum has been known to do so once the wine flows out of her system).
- Starts commando crawling.
July
- Transforms into perfect butterball (see above).
- First kiss. More like slobber than kiss.
- Starts “skydiving” – rocking back and forth on her tummy with her arms out like a plane’s wings.
- Has her first cold.
August
- Gets up on all-fours and rocks back and forth.
- Plays peek-a-boo.
September
- First “word” – “dadadadadada”. Woman providing breast, nourishment and 24 hour companionship, none too pleased.
- Rolls over from back to front.
- Waves goodbye for the first time – not to be repeated for another couple of months…
October
- Perfects the “Caterpillar”, a bizarre take on the crawling lark – not a shuffle like normal babies, but a full-body vertical wave. A couple of weeks later, crawls in the conventional way.
- First tooth! Second tooth! Third tooth! It’s a Tooth frenzy!!!
- First trip to the pool!
- Gets into sitting mode from all-fours.
- Second “word” – “mumumumumum”.
November
- Mumumumum has her first car accident, also Scout’s first accident as a passenger. Neither are hurt, Scout tucks into mum’s purse in response.
- First big road-trip to Mt. Gambier. Gates of Hell open.
- Scout pulls herself up to standing and “cruises”.
- Fourth tooth.
- Starts to clap hands.
December
- Trip to Bris Vegas & to Newcastle.
- First bout of gastro.
- Walks while holding onto one of our hands.
- First trip to the Beach.
- Scout goes the open tongue pash on friend Austin. Austin runs (tummy waddles) for cover.
- Mum enjoys very boring New Years Eve, writing 2006 retrospective, with grumpy husband with tonsilitis and snoozing bub.
Permanent Link | Comments [3]Scout's first Christmas...
30 December 2006, 07:57
Because this whole blog has ceased to be about me (me! ME!) and has become about our gorgeous progeny.
We spent Chrissie in Newcastle, and whilst Melbourne charged up the open fires and broke out the mittens, and nearby mountains enjoyed a white christmas (totally true), we quaffed champagne (and a rather agreeable cellar stash) with Matt’s Uncle John and his two cousins, “S” and “D”, in relatively balmy temps.
Scout checks out the Couch Scene
During my childhood, my family has always been of the “massive-roast-dinner-on-xmas-eve-open-pressies-on-xmas-day-
and-visit-extended family-on-xmas-night” ilk. That tradition has long ceased to exist, given our family’s exodus from Newcastle in ‘89 and my insistence on living in different cities/countries to my folks ever since. McG and I don’t really have a “tradition” yet, so we were happy to ride the Miller Family Christmas Carousel.
Which turned out to be all about Christmas Breakfast, which seemed a bit weird to me, until I discovered that the tradition came about after the girls tried to get out of going to church one year and made up for it by cooking a Christmas breakfast. That, I understood.
We opened pressies after breakfast in the Tree Room (yep, John’s house is so freakin’ massive that he had an entire room set out for the Tree, a massive towering monolith, cordoned off to protect babies and dogs).
“Is this one mine, too?”
Scout was thoroughly spoilt and I even managed to procure bling from me husband, in a rare(ish) display of romantic mettle. Pressie opening was followed by a christmas fanfare of champagne (lots of), sauvignon blanc and pinot noir. We never made it to the dessert wine, so stuffed and zonked were we. Oh. And a seafood and roast chicken lunch. We didn’t just drink, you know…
Scout had her first trip to the Beach on Christmas Eve. The water was freezing, the day overcast, but she loved it. We went again day after Boxing Day and she forged ahead until she was waist deep in the water, dragging McG along. She wasn’t scared at all. Even when a wave (fairly small, granted, we were only in the Newcastle Baths, not the open water) crashed over her. Our girl is a-gonna be a beach babe. Look out!
“Dad, those waves look fully sick”
And whilst we slip, slop and slapped Scout to within an inch of her life, we forgot about ourselves and got hideously sunburnt. I rarely sunburn, and if I do I usually fade within a day, but this one knocked me around a bit. I’d forgotten that Newcastle sun is a wee bit fiercer than Melbourne’s rays…
One of the best parts of the holiday, though, was that Uncle John took Scout under his wing in a major way. We were staying in the guest room, but had never had much success with having Scout sleep in the same room as us – she doesn’t sleep well and neither do we. The only other option was the sunroom in the opposite corner of the house which would have meant us getting a baby monitor (which we got anyway, don’t know why we hadn’t bought one sooner).
“Uncle John, are you, like, for real?”
Then John said “She can sleep in my room and I’ll get up to her in the middle of the night.” I’m sorry, John? You’ll do what? Are you certifiable??? He insisted, so we put the portacot in his room and out of the 5 nights we were there, she woke up and needed resettling once. (At least, that’s what John told us, we didn’t hear a thing and slept like absolute logs.) In fact, on Christmas Eve, around midnight, John was woken, not by her cries, but by her singing. Our little girl was carolling in her sleep. Bless.
I actually didn’t want to leave Newcastle! John and the girls totally doted on Scout the whole time. Even “D”, who professed to be scared of babies (worried she’d drop them etc.) and wouldn’t go near Scout at previous events, was cuddling our little alien by the end. Our Newcastle jaunt was marked by good food, great wine, excellent company and hanging out at the beach. Christmas in Australia doesn’t get any better than that, my friends. No sirree.
Permanent Link | Comments [2]Cherry Mistmas
21 December 2006, 07:49
For I’ve just started on my second Sauvignon Blanc and am enjoying Christmas spirit(s) wot…
Scout wishes everybody a WONDERFUL Christmas – can’t you just tell that she’s brimming with Christmas cheer?
Santa’s little Elf
All we need to do now is ply her with Xmas cake and beer and she’ll sleep like a little champignon.. ahem, champion.
Will be Scout’s first EVER Christmas in 6 days and she can’t WAIT!!! She’s already had two “sessions” with Santa – one at Northland (spent $22 bucks on a fairly average pic – considering she hates men with beards and shopping centres, she did well to keep herself together. So proud…) and one at My Bank. Yep, My Bank had a Santa in the foyer for all staff and their kids, complete with snack bar and Christmas Decoration making for the toddlers and kids. Very impressed. Again, Scout didn’t actually cry but she didn’t look exactly happy about the Big Boy in the Red Suit. Even if he gave her a plush Reindeer toy. The Girl aint easy to please. Buggered if I know where she got that from.
We’re off to Newcastle for Christmas – spending it with Matt’s Uncle and cousins. Man, I haven’t spent a Christmas in Newcastle since back in ‘Nam. Natsukashii and all that, wot. Wotever.
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Viva Bris Vegas!
17 December 2006, 19:43
Morgan & Scout fight it out for first dibs on Christmas Cheer
Just spent a week in Bris Vegas with my brethren for an early Christmas. ‘Twas a great visit, although Scout had a very average first night. See, my brother is going deaf. He swears to GOD he’s not, but he insists on turning the TV up as loud as it can possibly go. Something about surround-sound atmosphere or something. And the whole family (including my folks who drove down for a few days) insist on getting up at 5 a.m. That’s the crack of dawn, for those of you who don’t actually see 5 a.m. But the upshot of it was that Scout didn’t sleep much. So neither did we.
Sleep deprivation is still a curse, even now Scout is 11 months. Does it ever stop? Please. Make it stop.
It was the first time she’d met her two cousins Connor (5 y.o) and Morgan, who, at 7 months is 1.5 kgs heavier than she. I’ve never seen her take to anyone like she took to Connor – she LOVED him and followed him around the house. It was cute, although Connor got a bit jack of it after a bit, complaining to whoever would listen, “Can you come pick her up? Can you pick her UP????”
Scout prepares to chow down on her first ever Xmas pressie
Our final night was spent with my best bud Bron, her partner Dan and her little (cross-eyed) munchkin, Anouk, quaffing champagne whilst Scout slept like an absolute dream, with fairy christmas lights dancing outside her room. Very peaceful.
Scout’s Christmas wish is for a smooth Papa
Permanent Link | Comments [1]My child is not a Boy!
4 December 2006, 18:15
Had this conversation at the G.P’s today:
Old Man: Is he a boy?
Me: No, a girl.
Old Man: Ah yes, a wonderful boy!!!
Oooh K.
The reason we were at the G.P’s is that Scout has The Gastro. Her first ever gastro. And if you weren’t the one hosing down her walls after an early-morning explosion, you would have nary a clue. She’s still genki and chatty and flirtatious (can’t imagine where she gets that from). Except she turns into Reagan from The Exorcist after every meal. It’s not good.
Permanent Link | Comments [6]Bingle!
9 November 2006, 15:56
Sigh. My first car accident. Bell Street. 11 am. Some arsehole pulls out into the middle lane from the left in order to avoid parked cars and the car in front of me brakes to avoid him. At 60 kph there wasn’t much I could do to avoid hitting him up the arse. Then a lady in a 4WD whacks into the back of me for good measure. Two almighty jolts. Check to see if Scout is OK. Yep. She’s doing better than me. In fact, she’s chewing on my wallet. How the hell did she get my wallet? I’m in shock (no injuries, although my back did get a bit of a jarring) but notice that my car is the only one with any damage. Typical. The boot doesn’t close. The front bumper bar is dented to buggery.
Crap, I hate that car. What are my chances of it being considered a write-off?
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Road Trip to the Mount (Gambier, that is...)
6 November 2006, 18:30
Reluctant Flowergirl. Click to enlarge
Reluctant Leprechaun. Click to enlarge
McG, Scout and I braved the “5-hour” trip to Mt Gambier this past weekend, to attend McG’s cousin’s wedding. 5 hours turned into 8 hours. In a car. With an overtired baby. With an overtired baby who refuses to sleep and screams for the first 90 minutes of the journey. At Ballarat, I begged McG to take us home, dammit, but he demurred. We made it in one piece, but only just, with Scout having a total of two 30 minute naps the whole journey. It was hell. Scout: 1. Parents: 0.
Once we’d arrived, though, she was a little champion the whole trip, a perfectly charming, genki little champion. Made us struggling folks look like wunder-parents. Wunder-parents who nonethless reached for the Scotch once they’d descended in Mt. Gambier. Scout: 1. Wunder-parents: 1.
Jeezuz, people. I just woke up… Click to enlarge
Nuptials in Leg of Mutton Lake. Click to enlarge
The wedding ceremony was at Leg of Mutton Lake, which used to be a volcanic lake-bed (uh, hence the name) but has now dried up and is an idyllic green maze of trees and tangled vines weaving in and out of clearings, and quite the unusual spot for a wedding. I was almost expecting Frodo Baggins to pop in for a cameo (and perhaps a pot of tea). [And I hadn’t even started on the champers yet.]
The Bridal Party were alarmed to hear that Bilbo would not be making an appearance. Click to enlarge
Anna & Heath, the betrothed, looked gorgeous (of course) as did the attendants (3 each!) and flowergirls (Tessa and Ellie – Anna & Heath’s nieces).
You know you’re in a small country town, though, when you ask a local guest how far out the reception is, they say “Oooooooh, it’s a bit of a ways out” and it takes you 6 minutes to drive there.
Pure Cheddar. Nick and McG hit the Jugs. Click to enlarge
Much as having kids is a wonderful thing in so many ways (you can go throw up, now), you really do notice how much more time-consuming everything is, and that you can’t take any free party-time for granted. EVER. Scout went down into her stroller for a sleep when the meals arrived, and woke up again once we’d finished, just before the dancefloor boogie was to begin. She howled, bawled, kicked and screamed (though I couldn’t blame her, it was damn noisy) and I had to take her back to the hotel around 10pm (frightfully early, wot) where she passed out in the portacot.
I was disappointed to have missed out on a boogie, particularly with abundant rumours (later founded!) of a Ra-ra-rasputin haunch dance c/- the bride and bridesmaids. Sigh. The things we do for our children…
Scout suspects it may be past her bedtime. Click to enlarge
************
Grandpa’s beard is a hit. Click to enlarge
The rest of the weekend was spent catching up with the thousands (OK, maybe 100) of McG’s rellies. At times I get a tad envious of McG’s close-knit extended family. Although close in spirit, I rarely get to see my parents or brother (in Queensland) and the few cousins, aunts & uncles who aren’t dead, live in godforsaken places (such as, I don’t know, Newcastle…) and I haven’t seen them for over 15 years. Of course, McG and Co. have welcomed me to the flock and all, but it still makes me a bit sad nonetheless. [ah yes, yes, the world’s smallest violin. Keep playin’ it.]
Coming back, we accidentally took the longer route along the Princes Highway, but by whacking the crap out of the accelerator all the way home, we made it in 6.5 hours. Scout was a trouper, amusing herself in the back seat and even condescending to one 1 hour and one 40 minute nap. Scout: 1. Wunder-parents: 2.
Uncle Scott, Scout and Blake at the Post-Wedding BBQ. Click to enlarge
In the Scout Herald this week, news of a third tooth! Scout now has one of her top teeth coming through and isn’t that making getting her to settle at night a treat! She’s been good though – consistently sleeping through without a feed, if a little crazy whence first she layeth down her head (or something). If she’s upset or in pain (or if she just damn well feels like it), she’ll flip herself over in bed to be up on all fours crawling around the bed. It was cute the first few times she did it, but last night (with the Teeth Coming In) we flipped her back over nay on 10 times before we relented with the Baby Panadol.
The joy will be ours once she cottons on that, now she can pull herself up to standing, the cot bars would make quite the uncharted frontier. In the middle of the night.
Scout: 3. (Wunder?)-Parents: -2
More Mount Gambier/Wedding photos here
Permanent Link | Comments [3]Amazon's the Money
31 October 2006, 21:50
Just received our parcel from Amazon (love getting couriers at 8am – just like Christmas!!!), amongst the spoils were the CDs I’ve been hanging for – Tori Amos’s “The Beekeeper”, Kate Bush’s “Aerial” and Arvo Part’s Alina. Yes, I know they’re sooooooo 2005 (with exception of course, of Alina which is like, totally 2000) but hell, that’s life with a baby. Can’t even make the sodding trip to JB HiFi for a musical treat…
I must rate Arvo Part’s “Alina” as being the elixir of a troubled baby. It’s so intoxicatingly mellow and exquisite, it’s guaranteed to send the most unsettled baby off into lala land. Got. to. love. that.
Scout wonders whether daddy is uber-cool or merely a buffoon
9 months and counting
24 October 2006, 10:05
Rather than focus on the 9 month milestones of our little girl (significant though they are) I’d like to celebrate one of my achievements – 9 months of breastfeeding.
I never thought I’d go for this long and the path has had its fair share of hurdles – grazed nipples in the first few days when I was physically unable to breastfeed, five (5! count them! actually… not) blocked ducts (extremely painful), 3 bites from a newly fanged oompa loompa, and a barrage of disapproving stares if I were to breastfeed in public (although, to be fair, the vast majority of people couldn’t give a shit, which is really how it should be).
At 6 months, I thought I’d replace her evening feed with a bottle of formula to help her sleep through, but then decided that this was really quite a ridiculous and selfish notion (and I’m not convinced it even works) and have kept going – we’re now down to 4 feeds a day and I’m actually enjoying it! When I look back at those excruciatingly difficult early days, I never would have thought it would be so easy now. In fact, I’d love to go to 12 months, but alas with my going back to work in January, we’re going to have to get Scout used to a cup of formula at lunch.
So hey, congratulations Kinki. You are a bloody wonder in your own universe.
Please mum. No more milk…
Permanent Link | Comments [6]Dude, Where's my Sunscreen?
13 October 2006, 12:07
What else to do on a 37 degree day but take in the waves at the Fitzroy Baby Pool? It was Scout’s first dip in the water (didn’t let her face or ears go in, so paranoid am I about lurgies weaselling their way into her precious system, particularly with this hideous gastro going around) and she was mad for it!
It’s hard work looking this cool all day. Click to enlarge
It has been a week of Firsts – First tooth, First pool dip, First trip to the Playground, First “mammamammamamm” (v. proud, me), First Weetbix and First Toast and Vegemite. Hideously, she really liked the Vegemite, shudder. I’ve never been a fan myself, although not as adverse to it as my vegemitaphobe friend, “J” who refuses to feed her son vegemite in case he comes charging at her with face and hands riddled with the brown goo. “It looks like poo and smells like shit” says she. Fair enough. Who am I to argue?
Permanent Link | Comments [7]Houston, we have a Tooth
12 October 2006, 10:08
Little Gummy is no longer a Gummy (but still a bear). After nearly 9 long months of strangers and friends alike musing, “Oh, her cheeks are so red – she must be teething” (boring, people) she has frikkin’ finally cut her first tooth (her bottom left central incisor, for those dentally inclined. And if you are, what the hell are you doing here???)
These pics have nothing to do with teeth… although they have much to do with swinging. Giddy Up.
Swing Out sister. Click to enlarge
Zero Gravity. Click to enlarge
Doing Mummy's Bidding
10 October 2006, 10:58
Click to enlarge
Permanent Link | Comments [1]Fashions on the Field (and in the mouth...)
6 October 2006, 11:44
“Lavinia, you can eat my dust, girlfriend...” (click to enlarge)
“If only Mum would gimme some of that Moet” (click to enlarge)
Spring is finally kicking in – Scout is so much happier outdoors (drinking champagne, watching the geegees, falling over in a pool of her own vom… cough, splutter, ahem, where the Hell was I? Oh, no, this is not my station…) wreaking havoc (“I tell you, we were trying to grow that grass, lady!”) so days have been less intense. Less relentless. ‘Cos that’s what you get when you have a baby – on call 24/7 – particularly when you’re breastfeeding – not that I resent her for that, but you really start to savour the concept of going to work and actually having a one-hour lunchbreak when you’re not accountable to anyone or have to think about anything.
Little Scout can now wave to people coming and/or going, if you happen to have found her favour for that day. And annoyingly she’s been waking herself up several times a day and night, by rolling over onto all-fours, unable to get back down again. It gets old really bloody quickly.
She’s been “about to crawl” for so bloody long as well, now that’s getting old. She does have a cool caterpillar crawly thingy, where she makes out like a caterpillar (NOOOOOOO!) and she’s very very speedy, but no actual crawl yet. Not that I’m willing it. All my spare moments will come to an abrupt halt when that happens. Nothing will be sacred…
Permanent Link | Comments [4]26 Things September 2006
23 September 2006, 13:00
Finally finished my 26 Things for September (c/- 26 Things Scavenger Hunt). I’m not at all happy with it, to tell the truth, but hell, all my available neurones have been jammed with nappy-changes, sleep schedules and how the hell do I keep my overtired baby happy at 6 in the evening??? How life changes.
Here are my 5 faves:
Town (an oldie but goodie!)
Overcome
Boring
Soft
Blur
Something in the Water...
20 September 2006, 11:25
Lots of positive news this week! Our friends in Tokyo, let’s call them “Al” & “Yukiko” had a baby boy last Thursday. Also, breaking news that our cyberfriend Gleek also has a serious case of up-the-duffness. And my wonderful friend “J” is a finalist in the Darebin Music Feast songwriting contest this coming Sunday (snippet: did you know that the City of Darebin (incorporating Fairfield, Northcote, Thornbury & Preston) has the most songwriters per capita in Australia!)
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Please! No Paparazzi!
17 September 2006, 15:19
“Out of my way, Heathens!”
“When you’re in such demand, I guess you gotta give these dudes something…”
Permanent Link | Comments [1]Me Mum won't self-settle!!!
30 August 2006, 17:22
Dear Essential Baby,
Me mum is 35 years old and she won’t self-settle. She don’t sleep at all during the day, so should be really tired, but I hear her every 2-3 hours during the night, crying “What’s wrong with me? Why am I always so fucking hungry!?!?!???? Why can’t I sleeeeeeeeep????”
Me is not old enough to get out of bed to pat and shoosh her and me don’t think me dad does it either, though I suspect she may clobber him if he tried. What should I do? Shouldn’t she be old enough to sleep through the night? All the books say you shouldn’t need a feed at all during the night after you’re about 6 months old, but she’s always getting up and going to the kitchen which wakes me up!!! Please help me!
Mwa mwa
Scout
PS. What does “fucking” mean?
Permanent Link | Comments [1]Je m'appelle Le Coquette. Je veux sucer votre visage
26 August 2006, 17:49
[...thanks Babelfish translator, my french is maison de merde.]
I love this photo of Scout – she does this funny thing with her tongue when she smiles, like she’s a frikkin’ coquette or something (more pics at my flickr account).
Seven Months Cheeky (click to enlarge)
Inspired by 2 Pink Lines (fellow mum), I thought a list of Scout’s achievements at the 7 month mark was in order…
- Can sit for long periods of time unattended and balances herself to play with toys.
- Can pull herself up on all fours from her belly where she rocks back and forth attempting to crawl.
- Sucks my face (slobbery, wot) if I say “Kiss for mama”. We have tested this to see if it’s coincidence or a genuine reaction, and she won’t (yet) do it if we say “Kiss for papa” (insert horrid little proud moment here).
- Commando crawls backwards/sideways.
- Works to get a toy just out of reach.
- Can roll over from front to back (no banana on the back to front front yet).
- Can remember people and gets excited (like the baby in the Huggies ad) when people she likes walks into the room, or thoroughly bored if she’s seen them a zillion times before.
- Reacts to voices, particularly when you say “Sophia Scout!!!!! Where’s your cute little pout???”
- Reaches out to touch babies and toddlers, often pulling hair (?%^&*!!), most often from babies who, alas, don’t have much hair.
- Has amassed a tidy sum of nicknames including Button, Bellynicebelly, Ladybird (she loves ‘em!), Moo, Boomanchu (whenever she’s having a grizzle), PucciPucci & Budd (short for Buddha).
- No teeth yet but very fat pot belly.
- Cannot yet speak French. Or English for that matter.
Permanent Link | Comments [3]But they told me this was a one-off designer original!
17 August 2006, 09:42
A catfight brewing in da hood
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Such a thing as too much advice?
15 August 2006, 09:47
I swear the increase in incidences of PND is, in some part, due to the expectations others put on us about being mothers. I don’t pretend to know the exact machinations of the PND wheel, but know the horrible pit in my stomach when someone asks if Scout is “sleeping through the night”? Oh, you know that after 6 months they don’t need to feed at night, you know….. You only need to feed her 4 times a day at this age….. A routine is a must when they’re 6 months….. as if somehow you’re less of a mother if you don’t follow suit. Most of this advice is extremely well-meaning of course, but there is so much conflicting advice out there, with accents on all the current-day philosophies around child-rearing.
Breastfeeding being one of them. Now I’m not the Breastapo, and even though I am really pro-breastfeeding, there are women out there who simply can’t breastfeed, as hard as they’ve tried, so who are we to judge? When I got to the 6 month mark and thought I might introduce one bottle of formula a day to give me a break, an ABA Counsellor talked me out of it. I’m glad she did, in retrospect, but my point is that there is soooo much pressure from so-called experts about the “correct” way to raise, feed and schedule our children.
And to compound the problem, seeing a (Melburnian) paediatrician advertise infant formula with absolutely no disclaimer that breast is best, is outrageous. The Sleep Clinic I went to was supervised by that particular paediatrician so I cancelled my spot there after one visit.
In my dark days I went to two Sleep Schools and one sleep clinic. The Sleep School Slut they used to call me. None of them helped me really (with the exception of one school that showed me a good settling technique), in fact I think they made the whole situation worse, as I came out the other end having no clue who to believe and doubting my own abilities to do the right thing by Scout. At the time, I was having a rough trot emotionally, but the schools all lead me to believe that Scout’s catnapping during the day was a solvable sleep issue and that she’d start doing it at night if I didn’t nip it in the bud. As it turned out, I wasn’t that successful in resettling her and she’s kind of grown out of it now, anyway. When I decided on my own volition that resettling wasn’t going to work, I let her catnap and we were both so much happier.
One sleep-school in particular kind of pissed me off. At the time I was doing 6 feeds a day, and Scout was sleeping quite well at night, so during the day, feeds were roughly 3 hours apart. The mothercraft nurse suggested to make Scout more “settled” that I should space feeds out to 4 hours. “So you mean drop a feed?” asked I, aware that there were only 24 hours in a day and thus not enough room to space them out to 4 hours given her nice 9-10 hour gap overnight. “No, no, just space out the feeds to 4 hours, you don’t have to drop a feed…” she insisted. I didn’t argue with her, but it was totally illogical. They wrote me up a “routine” which Scout has long since given the arse and she got down to 5 feeds a day in her own time.
The Sleep School industry is a thriving one, with links to the medical profession, but I don’t think they’re careful enough with the delicate hormonal balance of mothers who feel like failures anyway (hence the admission to sleep school) and pile pressures about what babies “should” be doing.
Current thinking and approaches are always going to change – in 1971, it was the norm to bottlefeed (according to my mum she couldn’t find anyone who could support her breastfeeding so she gave it up after 3 weeks) sleep babies on their tummies and introduce solids by 6 weeks, but something that will never change is the vulnerability of new (and renewed) mums who really need a frikkin’ break.
Which is why we get our offspring to assist us with household chores
Permanent Link | Comments [6]Love me a Bargain
13 August 2006, 15:26
I like to think of it as being savvy rather than cheap. Picked up these little beauties, 5 entire scoutfits (3 brand new) and a fisher-price toy all for $40 at the Baby and Kids Market. The Market alternates between Malvern, Hawthorn, Berwick and Box Hill, roughly every month. They have big-ticket items as well – prams, highchairs, safety gates, cots etc.
Love me a Bargain
On the way home, I saw something I never ever thought I’d see in Australia – someone Chucking a Britney on Elgar Road. I was in the car with a couple of girlfriends when we all did a double-take, swearing to god we didn’t just see a woman with a roughly 3-4 month old baby driving unrestrained on her lap. Alas, we saw just that.
“N”, who was driving, overtook her on the left, beeped her horn like a demon possessed and yelled No, No, NO!!!! You can’t do that, you can’t do that. The stupid woman looked over (hard to miss a chorus of outraged mums shrieking at you) but completely ignored us. We got her number plate, too, the idiot. What part of You Stupid, Careless, Dumbfucking Ignoramus did she not understand? It’s times like these I really think you need to have a licence before you’re allowed to have a kid.
Permanent Link | Comments [4]3 Cheers for the Bank
11 August 2006, 13:48
Ah. The Bank. Hallowed Icon of escalating interest rates and exorbitant bank fees. Customer Service occasionally questionable. It must be said, though, that they really do care about their staff…
Last week The Bank threw a luncheon for those on maternity leave (interestingly enough, all women) to, ahem, “network” (cliche, cliche). Little (fat) Scout was ever so well-behaved, and afterwards, perfectly charmed my New Boss, whom I had never met…
We had coffee after the lunch to discuss return to work options next January. I desperately want to go back to work 3 days a week, the thought of having someone I barely know looking after Scout 5 days a week and me only 2, being anathema (actually, I’d rather not have to work at all, but mortgage and burgeoning interest rates dictate situation).
Legally, The Bank is only obligated to accept me back into my present position on a full-time basis although it is to their own benefit to compromise with mums returning to work. And would you know, they actually walk the walk and talk the talk (if only they stopped talking to the Reserve Bank). My new boss (previous boss on mat leave also) was not only rather conducive to the idea, she suggested that in 3 days I could do the parts of my job that I love and give the other part the arse… ahem, to someone else. All yet to be officially confirmed of course, but it’s looking good. I don’t really consider myself a “Company Girl” but must admit I was rather impressed with their flexibility on this one.
AND I have a childcare place confirmed – my second choice in the area, but at least it’s not an ABC Centre. Ah, Shit is coming together, people. [contented sigh]
Permanent Link | Comments [2]101 things to do with Infants...
9 August 2006, 11:50
#1 Indulge in a spot of Air Hockey
#2 Take on the Isle of Man Circuit
Permanent Link | Comments [1]My Bastard Scumlicking Laundrette
4 August 2006, 19:34
So our washing machine has died, right, so out of desperation we’ve had to use the local Laundrette, about 3 mins walk from home.
I pop down there this evening, laundry + baby in tow, not an easy task, with basket perched precariously on top of pram, and put my washing into machine, let’s call it Machine#4. I put my $2 in (again not an easy task, given I only had notes and $2 coins and had to go back and bribe my neighbour to hand over coin in exchange for notes), close the lid to activate the cycle and continue on my walk (to get beer, but that’s another story).
I pop back after about half an hour (with baby asleep, may God come down and strike me pickled) to collect washing. I open the lid of Machine #4. No clothes. Empty machine. Where the f&^O(#$ are my clothes? mutter I. I lift the lid to, let’s call it Machine #5 and there are my clothes, entirely unwashed with soap still all through them.
Some Scumlicking ahole has come along (in fact they may have already been there) taken my clothes out of Machine #4 just as the cycle began, exchanging them with their own clothes. Someone stole my freakin’ $2 wash cycle! How low can you go? I know it’s only 2 freakin’ dollars and thus a small outrage but it really pissed me off.
Does dodgy come with the package or do you have to buy it extra? Hell knows I’ll be sitting on the machine next time to guard the pearly lid. Perhaps borrow a few feisty watch dogs. Come to think of it, perhaps Scout will do…
Permanent Link | Comments [6]Law and Order - Criminal Dreams
29 July 2006, 13:22
I had a dream last night that Vincent D’Onofrio was trying to kidnap Scout and tracking down everyone who had her, whacking them on the forehead with giant tennis balls ($%^!???).
It was the closest thing I’ve had to an anxiety dream since she was born. I think as a mum I’m really conscious of keeping her away from potential loonies, but Vincent D’Onofrio? Can’t quite figure that one…
Permanent Link | Comments [1]If a bear farts in the woods and nobody hears it...
26 July 2006, 10:18
Recently, Scout has started to draw her legs right up underneath her in a desperate attempt to crawl, but no banana, right (except for a mad 270 degree shuffle)? Well, yesterday I popped her on tummy on my pilates mat (it’s pink!) in the loungeroom and went to fix myself a coffee. When I returned 5 minutes later, she was under the couch. With her head poking out from it.
Saucy monkey hasn’t repeated this feat for my benefit, oh no. Just biding her time, biding her time…
Permanent Link | Comments [2]Enjoying a Brewsky
22 July 2006, 18:16
... at the Scenic Hotel in Adelaide.
Back in Melbourne this week after a long weekend in Adelaide. Of course, the Gastro Fairy followed us from Adelaide, where McG’s father was ill most of Saturday and Sunday. McG succumbed on Monday and I rode the porcelain bus Wednesday night and most of Thursday. And due to current planetary misfuckalignments, I was due a second girlie night out last night and nearly didn’t make it (again…).
Made a showing, though, and had a wee boogie to Afro Cuban band at the Night Cat. I am so grown up now. I realise how far in my past long heady, boozy nights spent chatting up nefarious-looking blokes with shaggy hair, thrift jeans with ciggie oozing delicately out of mouth (sometimes mine, sometimes their’s), are. Not that there’s anything wrong with all that. I’m just glad I am in the place I am now, to be frank. My meat market days are OH-VA. Oh yes. End of smugdom.
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Magic Milestones!
13 July 2006, 09:35
For those who may be remotely interested, and as I haven’t really written much about the extremely awesome little girl we have managed to produce (awwwww!) in spite of some of my own idiosyncratic flaws, here is the run-down of her magic milestones, plus a (rare) photo of her anticipatory runway antics in time for our Adelaide trip this weekend…
Week 5: First real smile
Week 6: First raspberry (“razz”)
Week 7: First “conversation” (“ahgoooo”, “yerrrrr”, “ahbooo”)
Week 12: First laugh & first sleeping through (i.e. no night feeds at all… and wasn’t that short-lived…)
Week 13: Follows a rattle with her eyes
Week 14 (3 months): First roll from tummy to back (not to be repeated for another month) and grabs hold of things quite well
Week 16: Moves head back and forth independently
Week 21: Pulls to standing position from sitting
Week 22: sits unsupported for about 20 seconds (very slumped, you couldn’t leave the room with her like that or she’d faceplant). Also does a version of commando crawling – can turn around 270 degrees but not actually go anywhere…
Week 23: Reaches out to grab her toys
Week 24: First aeroplane, apparently a precursor to crawling (?)
All of this has been dutifully recorded in the Baby Owner’s Maintenance Log . Every parent must have one…
Air Scout
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Disappointment. Not just a Cranberries song.
7 July 2006, 19:08
OK, so this is going to win me the title of Princess Whingealot but here goes.
I haven’t had a girl’s night out since Scout was born. In fact, I haven’t been out on the “piss” with the girls for 16 months being a teetotalling pregnant lass before that. I’m champing at the bit, so I organise a girlie’s night of wine and tapas in North Carlton. For tonight. I’m pumped. I can’t wait to sip on a Coonawarra Red and have unspeakably candid girlie chats.
So what does my body decide to do? It goes and gets a horrid spewy tummy bug. Hit at midnight last night and lasted all day. Mostly nausea but have heave-hoed a few times as well. Don’t know if it’s something I ate or a virus but I had to call the night off. Husband even had to take the morning off so he could look after Scout while I tried to sleep, having had basically zero sleep since midnight.
Sniff. Princess Whingealot’s whinge has ended. Goodnight.
Permanent Link | Comments [5]Why are People so unkind?
9 June 2006, 14:49
By “People” I mean “Daughter”. Here I am, slogging my guts out, trying to get her to take hour long naps (45 mins are simply unasseptable) during the day, with whinging, crying, raspberrying, resisting etc. etc. et. al. ad nauseum, then Papa comes home of an evening, bathes her (which she loves), pops her down in her cot for the night and she passes out like a light with nary a bleet, not to be heard from for the next 10 hours. JeeeZUZ!
We (that is, “People” and I) ended up at Tweddle Sleep School in Foot-a-scray on Wednesday and I must say, although it was a hard day and I was skeptical that I would be able to resettle her after her 45 min snooze, I have just managed to resettle the little badger after 10 minutes. Not 2 days after School. The techniques (patting her bum while placing her on her side and dealing with a lot of crying and protesting at first) work. Rolling her onto her back once she’s settled is a whole different sleigh-of-hand. Get her at the wrong moment and she shakes herself awake and it’s back to square one. It aint easy, my friends, no sirreee.
Not that I’m expecting it to work every time (as that my dear readers would be setting myself up for abject disappointment) but I have so much more confidence with putting her to sleep (a bit young for that, I know) I don’t get anxious when I hear her start that tired grizzle. Things are looking up up UP!!!
Permanent Link | Comments [11]06.06.06
6 June 2006, 09:02
Being a numbers and horror movie fiend (must be the snotty-nosed little Damien in me…), today heralds a rather inauspicious day – 06.06.06 – the unholy trinity.
Must have been those 4 torturous years in catholic school, or the fact that in the 80’s I trawled our local video store for 70’s & 80’s horror, picking up such classics as “Rabid”, “Communion” (Brooke Shields, wot), “Visiting Hours” & “Scanners”. I even got my school friends into them, making me none too popular with said friends’ mums. Perhaps I was deemed a troublemaker. Perhaps they were onto something.
Only recently, it occurred to me that my parents let me watch this evil crap when I was very young (from about 10 y.o) and that I probably won’t let Scout near it until she’s at least 60. Because Big Brother is so much better. Ah hell, I got a University thesis out of it so whatever…
To commemorate such a day, here is my Top 20 Horror Movies (Top 10 is far too limiting):
1. The Exorcist (1973) (there is no competition)
2. The Omen (1976)
3. The Shining (1980)
4. Juon & Juon II
5. Seven (1995)
6. Kairo
7. Carrie (1976)
8. The Eye (2003)
9. The Changeling (1980) (true creepy horror!)
10. Poltergeist (1982)
11. Psycho (1960)
12. The Amityville Horror (1979)
13. Damien, Omen II (1976)
14. The Sixth Sense (1999)
15. Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
16. Alien Series (1979+)
17. Cube (1997)
18. Halloween (the Original – 1978)
19. When a Stranger Calls (1979)
20. The Others (2001)
Permanent Link | Comments [5]Another one bites the duct
2 June 2006, 21:38
To cap off an already stunning week, I managed to get another blocked duct, thanks to her royal highness treating nipple like nice soft chewable toy. Brilliant.
I shouldn’t carry on – things are looking up (sort of). Scout has started waking up in the early morning sniffing for the milk, but has been really good to get to sleep at night. And today she was really settled for naps (still catnapping, can’t seem to shatter that bone) in spite of getting her 4 month jabs…
Quite strangely, she decided that the first jab in her tender thigh was really funny and she started to laugh (#$%^&*!!!!). Thankfully (or not) her response to the other two was reassuringly appropriate – a nice ear-shattering scream.
And I have put my finger into a few Sleep School pies – the O’Connell Family Centre in Canterbury, Tweddle in Foot-a-scray and North Park Private in Bundoora (all residentials so I can get a break) and an afternoon sleep and settling clinic at the Royal Childrens. Even North Park Private, which (being private) has a shorter waiting list, will still be close to one month by the time I get to the top of the queue. Guess it’s proof that a shit load of parents out there are in the same boat as moi. And I sure don’t have it as tough as some. Little Scout is absolutely beautiful and so good-natured. When she gets a decent sleep.
And my family doctor has AGREED with me that I shouldn’t take the anti-depressants as he didn’t think I was depressed, rather sleep-deprived so practically broke the pen in his zeal to write the Sleep School referrals. It’s actually really hard living in a city where you don’t have any extended family. I mean, I have absolutely fantastic, wonderful, supportive friends, but most of them have kids of their own or live too far away to call on in times of desperation (and trust me, I’ve been desperate). And like it or not, you can’t take your friends (or neighbours, and we have freakin’ tops neighbours) for granted as much as you can family.
Did I say that?
Guess who forgot...
27 May 2006, 23:09
...their own wedding anniversary.
Yep, McG and I both managed to forget May 15, the day they pledged to love, honour and remember all wedding anniversaries ‘til death do they part.
I didn’t realise until last Wednesday, when someone from Mother’s Group asked me when and where we got married. Our anniversary was actually the day after Mother’s Day, and I probably got carried away with the gravity of what that day meant. Either that, or nappy brain striking again. Or both. And I never forget anyone’s birthday or day of import. Really.
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Misdiagnosis?
24 May 2006, 10:58
The first three months were (relatively) easy – sure I had some not so good days, but Scout would generally sleep whenever, wherever and for fairly long stretches during the day. And she self-settled at night. We’d put her in the cradle at 8pm, and if she wasn’t that tired, she’d look around calmly as you left the room and when you returned she’d be asleep. For the next 7-9 hours. We congratulated ourselves on our heavenly baby.
When 3 months hit, our routine hadn’t changed, but Scout decided it was rather too tedious to sleep any longer than 45 minutes during the day, and she’d actually prefer not to sleep even that long, thanks very much, Mum. This totally screwed up any semblance of a routine, and I’d never know if she was hungry, tired or both. I think my milk started going down because of the stress of it all.
And at night, as we put her in the cradle, she’d smile or blow raspberries at us, we’d leave the room and 5 minutes later the howling began. On a good evening it would take 5-10 minutes to settle her, on a bad one, about an hour and a half. She still sleeps for fairly long stretches (except for the occasional hell night, when she wakes every 2 hours for resettling) but getting her to that state is a nightmare.
Most of the literature/experts tell you to “resettle” if your baby sleeps under an hour during the day. Well, I tried that and endured her screams, to no avail. The thing that pisses me off is that sometimes she wakes up from her 45 minute kip with a big smile on face, and after 25 minutes of subsequent unsuccessful “resettling” I have a very unhappy, vexed baby indeed. I’d rather take the catnapping happy baby, thanks. It’s enough to make anyone go nuts.
Well, perhaps not nuts, but after 4 days in a row of me crying hysterically through the days because she wouldn’t sleep or resettle and I castigated myself for being a “failed mum” (oh purlease, I hear you say) I went to see the GP who diagnosed mild postnatal depression.
Now I have absolutely no problem admitting to anyone that I have PND, except I don’t believe that I do. The GP, a supposed “mental health expert” (pah! and baloney!) handed me a questionnaire with questions such as “how often do you feel worthless”, “how often do you cry or feel like crying” etc. etc. Now, to many of these questions, I answered “some of the time” and I achieved a certain numerical score for answering as such. At the end of the questionnaire, she tallied my score and said I had mild PND. At no stage, did she ask if any of these responses were situational, which they are. I feel like crying whenever she cries, I feel worthless whenever she cries and I can’t settle her or help her sleep. When she’s feeding, playing or anytime when I’m not settling her, I’m 100% fine. Now, to me, that sounds like a sleep-deprived Mum who needs a sleep school or clinic to learn coping and settling techniques, rather than a referral to a psychologist and anti-depressants.
That’s right, she put me on anti-depressants for a “mild” case of PND. She didn’t even tell me what they were as she was prescribing them. I asked her (as I suspected the cunning truth) and she said they’d “help me sleep”. I then asked her if they were sleeping tablets, and she said, “yes, they’ll help you sleep”. I then asked if they were anti-depressants and she said “Yes”. AAAAAAAAAGH.
I went to the chemist, got the ADs and the pharmacist said to take one the first night, two the second night and three the third night, that they’d make me feel a bit drowsy at first but that I’d get used to them. I retorted “I don’t want to get used to them”. I decided after careful consideration, that the GP could shove her ADs up her crack. She didn’t even try to get to the bottom of what was going on at home. Talk about throwing drugs at the problem… I’ll take the psychologist, thanks very much, because any new mum could, in my opinion, do with an impartial shoulder to whinge and bemoan on, but I have no intention on taking the ADs until things get far, far worse. Particularly because I’m breastfeeding.
Oh, GP says “they’re safe if you’re breastfeeding” but that’s total BULLSHIT FANNYDUST!!! EVERYTHING goes through to your breastmilk, and I don’t care if the amount is miniscule, I don’t want Scout sucking down Prothiaden. NO THANKS.
I’m looking into some sleep schools/clinics and hopefully they won’t tell me to take a running jump simply because Scout still sleeps a fair chunk of the night. It’s the days that are exhausting me, and I still get a sinking feeling in my gut whenever I hear her cries start up.
This too, will pass, this too, will pass…
Permanent Link | 
Comments [11]Inaugural Mothers Day
14 May 2006, 09:35
Ah, ‘tis great to be a mum. Woke up this morning after a lovely little lie-in, to a nice cup of tea, some v. thoughtful pressies and a beautiful daughter and husband. Sigh.
Will just chill out today, and have brunch with another mum and dad in Richmond (never mind Richmond’s appalling form in the footy this weekend…).
*******************
I leave you with a few maternal ponderings:
1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE.
“If you’re going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning.”
2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
“You better pray that will come out of the carpet.”
3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL.
“If you don’t straighten up, I’m going to knock you into the middle of next week!”
4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
” Because I said so, that’s why.”
5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
“If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you’re not going to the store with me.”
6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
“Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you’re in an accident.”
7. My mother taught me IRONY.
“Keep crying, and I’ll give you something to cry about.”
8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
“Shut your mouth and eat your supper.”
9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
“Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!”
10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
“You’ll sit there until all those peas are gone.”
11. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
“This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it.”
12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
“If I told you once, I’ve told you a million times. Don’t exaggerate!”
13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
“I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.”
14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOUR MODIFICATION.
“Stop acting like your father!”
15. My mother taught me about ENVY.
“There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don’t have wonderful parents like you do.”
16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
“Just wait until we get home.”
17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING.
“You are going to get it when you get home!”
18. My mother taught me GENETICS.
“You’re just like your father.”
19. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
“Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?”
20. My mother taught me about JUSTICE.
“One day you’ll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you!
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Life's Unexplained Mysteries
12 May 2006, 09:24
#1: Why cafe’s charge extra for soy and decaf options. Soy milk and decaf coffee are exactly the same price as cows milk and regular coffee and quite popular options… For a decaf (breastfeeding, ahem) soy latte lover, ‘tis v. frustrating.
#2: Why a baby can self-settle herself at 8pm and sleep 9-10 hours without waking up (or managing to get back to sleep if she does wake up) and yet has to be dragged and coaxed into having a nap during the day, fighting it at every turn, and then only managing to nap for 45 minutes at the MOST. You can set the friggin’ clock by her… I just don’t get it.
Permanent Link | Comments [3]Oi Oi OI! Where'd me voice go?
8 May 2006, 09:19
Scout lost her voice on Saturday. Not kidding. By 3pm, her cries and chatting and constant raspberries were all husky and raspy. We thought maybe she had the beginnings of a cold or a throat infection (as god knows where her little fingers have been…) but no, sure enough, after a lovely 10 hour sleep that night, she was fine Sunday morning.
Internet research was not at all helpful – “if baby has laryngitis, have her rest her voice and give warm liquid.” Hmmm, not easy to reason with a 3 1/2 month old. The biggest problem was her incessant raspberries. She must have blown 500 of them on Saturday, and half of them ended up in my face.
I have a few more pics of Scout on my Flickr Account for friends and family, so if you’re keen for an update, let me know your Flickr Account and I can give you access.
Permanent Link | Comments [1]Scout swears her allegiance...
7 May 2006, 09:51
Scout <3 Richmond
Permanent Link | Comments [6]Invaded!
30 April 2006, 10:39
In the summer it was spiders – not the lethal kind, you understand – we gave those to Sydney back in ‘Nam. No, we get the dreaded White Tails, the ones that bite you and leave a flesh-eating bacteria in your skin. Or so the legend goes.
Husband told me that one day, while he was changing Scout, a White Tail careened a hair’s breath from her precious bottom cheeks. He didn’t tell me for ages as he knew I’d freak. I’m not arachnist or anything, but I hate White Tails. I saw about 6 in the house during summer. We did, however, manage to escape the wrath of everyone’s anitpodean nightmare – cockroaches (which won’t be killed by a fair slap of a shoe. I swear cockroaches are guarding the the gates of Hell), so I guess we got off pretty likely. Still…
Now the weather has turned cold, our house has turned into a veritable iceblock overnight. Last night, I went to get a glass of water in the kitchen (half asleep, mind) and a little furry mongrel skittered past me on the bench. A frikkin’ mouse. The first of the winter mice. Last winter we got rid of them with a mountain of rat sac, but now Scout’s around I’m a bit worried about having poisons lying around the house.
Anyone know of any good remedies that will, if not kill them (I know they’re “god’s creatures” and all, but I won’t have the rodents crawling over my daughter at night. Shudder.) then deter them from the house? They live behind the oven, I think, where it’s warm and toasty.
3 month Birthday
28 April 2006, 11:12
Raspberry Swirl
Scout celebrated her 3-month birthday (last Saturday) with birthday cake, a few stouts and some Frangelico. Oh wait, no, that was me. Scout turned it on by rolling from her tummy to her back (complete with head thump on the rug). She did it twice that day, and hasn’t done it since. Not that she doesn’t try. She does some mini-pushups first, then lifts her back leg (a bit like a dog cocking it’s leg, ahem) then lets out the Battle Cry (last week it was “OI, OI, OOOOIIIIIIIII”). But alas, no further fruit on the rolling front and my little angel gets a wee bit frustrated.
She is now 6kgs, and above the 50th percentile for weight (i.e. about half the kids out there are heavier than her, so there must be some enormous little chubbas out there) and is 59 cms long, most of it leg (and belly). She takes after her mum (poor mite) – long legs and a stumpy torso.
Her head is also getting a little misshapen by her only wanting to put her head to the right side while sleeping. The other night we elevated her mattress on one side, hoping that she would face to turn left, but she only succeeded in falling down the mattress and hitting her head on the cradle bars (head still to the right!) so we just hope her head rights itself when she starts crawling. Which, judging by the strength of her legs, won’t be too far away…
Oh yes, I know, in her own time, in her own time.
Another year greyer...
20 April 2006, 10:41
Yep, it’s me birthday today. Had not such an auspicious start to the day… I have had some bad insomnia this past couple of nights – ironically nights where Scout has slept 9-10 hours. Spent from 1ish to 4.30 this morning in tears (but really trying to get to sleep as I was exhausted). Must trot off to GP for some chamomile tea…
Ah woe is frikkin’ me.
So am thoroughly bored at home – most friends have actual full-time jobs (what the???) so can’t catch up and best buddy has nasty spewy virus. Sigh. Will probably take the pram out for a stroll down Brunswick Street. Husband gave me awesome pressie – a shiatsu treatment and onsen bath at “Melbourne’s only Japanese BathHouse”, Ofuro ya to get me all natsukashii, like. Now the weather has turned a wee bit cold, I’d actually been craving an ofuro bath, nice and deep to melt away the grime of the day, so gift could not have come at better time. Husband is also cooking me fave dinner tonight – chicken katsu kare. Bring. It. On. He’s a clever boy, my Husband.
SS McG has been thoroughly entertaining of late, so I actually don’t mind just hanging out with her all day. She has started laughing (well, the occasional “tee hee”) and chatting up a storm. Unfortunately, she has been wanting to engage in aforementioned chats at 5.30 in the morning. The other night, we’d put her to bed after an early feed, the room was pitch black and we were about to nod off when we hear a hopeful “ahboooooo?” coming from the cradle. Give me strength.
I swear she said “Muummmmy” the other day, but it happened to be when she was screaming in pain (ate too much methinks – anyone who says you “can’t overfeed a breastfed baby” is a big LIAR) so maybe that won’t go into the annals of “firsts”, no sirree.
Oh good lordy, SS has drifted off to sleep – must squeeze in 45 minute catnap (you can set the clock by her).
Permanent Link | Comments [9]The Proof is in the Placenta
19 April 2006, 20:51
As if we needed more evidence that Tom Cruise is four cans short of a sixpack… he is, not only going to eat his daughter’s placenta, he is going to do it RIGHT THERE, assuming raw in the delivery suite. The man doesn’t even have the decency to wait til he can pop it on the BBQ and down a few tinnies…
Uh-huh. Someone pass me the tomato sauce…
Permanent Link | Comments [1]I've got my eye on you...
19 April 2006, 17:53
Amnesia Lane 8 Meme
16 April 2006, 14:49
Because it’s Easter Sunday and I’m bored, let’s reminisce (just because I can) with an Amnesia Lane 8:
First town you ever lived in: Toronto, New South Wales (south of Newcastle)
First album owned: The Greatest Hits Of Donna Summer (1977) including the disco classics “I Feel Love”, “Could it be Magic” and “I love to love you baby” except it was on tape, not vinyl. Sadly, Husband does not know who Donna Summer is…
First pub gig seen: Icehouse in 1986 at the Newcastle Workers Club (yes, I was underaged…)
First Celebrity Crush: Bill Mumy from “Lost in Space”
First Film you remember seeing: The Green Slime (horror classic!) on TV, and The Uncanny at the Greta Drive In.
First time you drank alcohol: I was 3 (apparently – I only have the recollections of my parents) and polished off the dregs of everyone’s drinks (sherry, wine, you name it) at my cousin’s Christening. My parents found me and my second cousin Shona (the grand old age of 4) rolling drunk under a table.
First paying job: Waitress in a Chinese Restaurant in Hervey Bay, Queensland
First Kiss: I was 5 ( a right hussy!) and just won the Best Teddy Bear Contest at my Kindergarten. To celebrate, I pashed my best buddy “Peter” at the back of class during afternoon story time.
8 People I’m tagging:
McG
Pinku
Gleek
Andrea
Gunnella
Andrew & Kathleen
Nicole
Bogue
Permanent Link | Comments [7]Sleeping through the Night
10 April 2006, 08:39
Before you have kids, you have NO IDEA how exciting this is. The concept of your baby going to bed at reasonable hour and waking up for a feed late enough in the morning that you can get up and start the day is enough to make your knees tremble and brain shake. This is an infinitely good thing. But, let’s face it, a bit sad.
Our little munchkin achieved this milestone last night – at 11 weeks (so advanced, as if anyone needed reminding…). Last feed at 8.30, bed at 9.15 and woke up at 6 am. Many people will tell you that this is not sleeping through the night (meant to be 7-7 – pah!) FOLLY! DON’T LISTEN TO THEM. For us, getting a whole 7 hour sleep in one hit is unprecedented. My life has been reduced to getting excited (nay, exhilarated) at such a concept.
Of course, that’s not to say this habit will be repeated tomorrow night – hell no. Little Scout is a law unto herself. Very good natured, but somewhat contrary. We have had our fair share of grizzly days of late. Half an hour of unexplained crying/screaming can get even the most well-rested parent down with curses of “Dude, what the hell’s wrong with you???”
Her vocab has also expanded in the last couple of days. Now, she says “I am a thimble” and “Icky Thoomp”. Hands have become a favourite chew-toy. Outfavoured only by boob. Although it seems she gets so excited about her hands and fingers, she looks perplexed when she can’t actually get any milk out of them.
In Decorating News…
...my sleep-deprived brain made a major blunder in the rug-buying department on the weekend. I had visions of gorgeous pink and pale yellow or lime stripey rugs, but ended up buying a bright sunflower yellow rug with absolutely no pink in it.
It looked great and fun in the store but in the natural light of her room it actually blinds you. You can see a bright yellow glow in the hallway if you’re standing at the front door. So I’ve had to rethink colour scheme. Now it’s yellow, red with flashes of pink. Pastels are NOT going to work in that room anymore. Pah. V. disappointed. Must make the best of it a not so great situation now (what the hell was I thinking???) but it’s NOT easy to find stuff that fulfills a vision whilst not costing the earth…
Left half of room
Right side of room (no, blue box is not permanent feature!)
So I have some bright red chinese cushions, and will make pink, red and yellow felt flowers for the corner over her cot. Oh, and buy a tall bookcase in the same wood as existing furniture and rearrange the furniture some (don’t want the cot to be right next to the window for winter draughts etc. etc.. Any other ideas as to how I can tone down the yellow feature (annoyingly these photos don’t do justice to how bright the rug is)? I so wanted the room to be pretty and girly and I can’t help but think I royally fucked it up.
Bleugh.
Permanent Link | Comments [5]First word!
1 April 2006, 11:14
Crap, here I was, fearing that Scout’s first word would be “OhShit”, well patrons, turns out I wasn’t far wrong…
She uttered her first intelligible phrase this morning. “Bugger me”. Twice. So it was no mistake. Even McG heard it. Where’s the “I love you mama” I have been training her for? I shouldn’t really complain. Most babies don’t utter their first word until at least 6 months old, and their first phrase post 12 months, and she’s not even 3 months.
It’s tough having such an advanced baby…
Permanent Link | Comments [3]Big Trouble in Little Baby
31 March 2006, 11:14
Scout has graduated from chatting to lamps, to chatting to us. In fact, to anyone who cares to listen (apparently quite a large fan club). She’s also becoming much more aware of her surroundings, particularly at 1am, when she awakes from a 5 hour sleep (down from the 7-8 hour sleep we’ve been rather used to) and decides she’d like to chat, thank you very much. Her vocabulary, however, is still rather limited. Here is her current vocab, with translations. Not in alphabetical order.
Ahbrrrrrr: (complete with raised eyebrows): “You’re funny, mummy”
Boooo: (with downturned eyebrows, not exactly a frown): “Could you kindly cuddle me a bit whilst we’re chatting???”
Yeurrr: “Don’t you just love the sound of my voice? I’m terribly popular, you know.”
Aaaaaaa: “I’m a bit tired, but I’ll give my adoring fans a little bit more.”
Agua: “That’s right – I’m so advanced, I can speak Spanish.”
Aaaieee: “Everything’s gonna be aaaieee”
Ahgoooooo: “Would you get me some of that tasty milk, milk lady?...”
AHGOOOOOOO: NOW!!!
It just breaks our heart when we’re half asleep to see her smiling and kicking with excitement and cooing when all we want to do is get some sleep…
Permanent Link | Comments [1]"Carry-on like a Porkchop in Jerusalem"
27 March 2006, 10:00
When I was a kid this saying was a perennial favourite of my father’s. I grew up on a steady diet of “Mad as a two-bob watch”; “Madder than a cut snake” and “That’s what the Actor said to the Bishop” (don’t ask). So when I’m breastfeeding Scout and she starts to arch her back, stretch, flail her head back and forth (alarmingly sometimes with boob still in mouth) and moan and groan, not unhappily, this saying comes to mind. Her new nickname is consequently “Porkchop”. She also has attained rolls of porkish fat, ala the Michelin Man (sooooo cute, my chubba…), so the name is not entirely undeserved…
I never really thought of this saying as being, to coin AliG, “Racialist” or insulting to those of the jewish faith. It is just an adage that peppered my childhood. Not that I escaped unscathed from imitating my parents, or books I read, when I was young. I have a vivid memory of being sent out of class when I was in the 6th grade for including some less than salubrious language in a creative essay. I’d been reading “The Omen” (I mean, what the hell were my parents doing, letting me read “The Omen” when I was 10???) and had simply though that a “Harlot” was a scary woman. The headmaster thought differently, my parents were called and a scene ensued. If memory serves me correctly, tears were shed. Mine. And my parents.
I accept my failings. I’m not proud to admit that I’ve, on occasion, said “Where did you pork the cor in the corpork?” Or called a person from Adelaide a Kiwi (I mean, honestly, it’s sometimes hard to tell the difference) and that I’m probably going to Hell for this post. But as parents, we really need to watch we say, as little Scout’s first word is destined to be “Ohshit”, athough McG swears she said “Love. You….. Dad.” yesterday. Dream on Husband.
I feel kinda sorry for our little cheesey porkmeister. She is at the mercy of our immature desire to get cheap laughs.
At least she’ll be a happy little Porkchop.
Permanent Link | Comments [1]Who are all these people???
22 March 2006, 11:10
...and where the bloody hell are they now??? Yep, we’re back in Melbourne, trying to wean Scout of all the adoration of family in Adelaide…
Scout was an absolute trouper the whole trip. Our flight to Adelaide was delayed by an hour and a quarter and as I’d timed feeding her to coincide with the original takeoff time, we were asking her to wait quite awhile (so that her ears can equalise, one is encouraged to either feed or shove a dummy in mouth during takeoff and landing, so I went for the former). She did so without a fuss, and with continuous rocking in Baby Bjorn. She loved the flight and didn’t cry once.
The next four days was a parade of rellies, all of whom wanted a cuddle (as can be expected!) I was absolutely fine with this, with the caveat that people wash their hands before handling her (and all other unspoken caveats, such as don’t pick your nose and feed it to her). We still do this, 2 months down the track (wash our hands that is, not pick our noses), just to be on the safe side, so it’s not like I think people are dirty or anything. The responses to this were somewhat varied. Most people were of the “I’d wash every part of my body if it means I can have a cuddle” variety but we did encounter the occasional reluctance and “Pfffth. You’ll get over that…” attitude. News flash. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions about child raising, but story is, if you don’t wash your hands, you don’t get a cuddle. Period. My daughter’s health is far more important than possibly offending someone’s ego.
Scout loved all the attention, though. She passed out in grandpa’s arms within an hour or two of arriving at McG’s folks house (she’d had a big morning!) and I was able to get a few catnaps during the day, whilst she charmed arses off the adoring crowd. I was concerned that the 3 nights of social events would put her routine out. I’d rather been enjoying putting her to bed at 8 and not having to feed her until 2 in the morning. On the Thursday she didn’t wake until 3.30 am. 8 and a half hours. Unfortunately, this was an anomoly, and we are still trying to get her back up to that 7 hour break.
McG’s brother’s wedding on Saturday was rather overwhelming for her (actually, probably more so for me!) There were perhaps 120 guests, many of whom I’d never met and everyone wanted a piece of her, to tickle her, touch her, watch me breastfeed etc. et al, blah blah blah. I know this shouldn’t be a big deal as everyone loves a baby and a boob, but after hours of this, she wouldn’t settle and was crying incessantly. It was kind of a shame, as the guests seemed so genuine, having Scout there was obviously an “in” for people to come and chat, but I was a little too stressed to take advantage of it. Too much stimulation. It was a long day as well – ceremony at 2.30, drinks and canapes from 4, then reception from 6.30 to midnight so we were asking a lot from her. She finally passed out from exhaustion just as the reception started.
The wedding itself was wonderful. V. emotional ceremony (McG’s bro has a 2 year-old who kept wanting to chat to mum and dad during proceedings. This prompted a gush of waterworks from bride and groom. Nyah…) Reception was also lovely – the DJ was a 70’s and 80’s music fiend, so much fun was had on the dancefloor with McG’s cousins (McG is not much of a fan of 80’s culture – can you believe he’s never seen “St. Elmo’s Fire??? We are truly of different generations…).
Catching up with McG’s rellies (aka “The Outlaws”) was really really good (I’m so grateful I can say that, I know not everyone is lucky enough to have truly cool in-laws). It’s rare to get everyone in the same room, scattered as they are across Adelaide, Mt. Gambier, Melbourne, Newcastle and Cairns. When I first met the Outlaws, socialising was a bit of a chore as I’m naturally rather shy (yes, I really am, shut up everyone who thinks I’m not…) but 7 years down the track they’re like my own family-by-proxy. And they sure know how to have a good time.
In keeping with my paranoid leanings these days, I’ve decided not to post anymore photos of Scout (or McG and I) on this site. Although most people’s viewing intentions are good rather than evil, our family’s privacy is the most important thing to me now. Fear not, though, regular readers, I will be posting updated photos available to family and friends to Kinki’s Flickr account, so if you’d like to access them, please let me know your Flickr login and I can add you to my Friends/Family list.
Here is my fave photo of Bro and Sis-in-law (and nephew) from their wedding.
“Mum… what’s that thing on your head???”
And a photo (the last for this site) of our beautiful girl. She is two months old today!
“Aren’t I perfectly charming?”
Permanent Link | Comments [6]My Friend, the Lamp
13 March 2006, 08:03
Lately Scout has started “chatting”. Not to me, or McG, no, her conversation partners of choice have been lamps. Wherever she goes, she susses out the closest lamp and has scintillating banter (I would even go so far as to say she flirts) with it. I’m just thankful that she’s pretty well-behaved whenever we go out (usually to a cafe or a friend’s house).
On that note, we are about to embark on a heavy HEAVY outing experience. Our first interstate trip. On an airplane. For 4 days. To Adelaide. To attend a wedding.
I never thought those 7 letters would spell impending organisational nightmare (crap, where the hell was I two years ago?). The cerebral planning is frying my brain. We need to organise a safety baby capsule for cars & taxis, a stroller/pram for the wedding, carrier/sling for the plane trip and most hellish of all, an outfit that I can breastfeed in that still fits me after the 9 month quagmire of pregnancy.
We are staying at McG’s folks’ place which is a relief. But not only is there a wedding (McG’s little brother, by the way), but two (2!!!) pre-wedding functions that we need to haul Scout to and flip my boobs out during. Pffthth.
The little angel has been getting between a 7-8 hour break between feeds during the night which has been heaven (she’s so advanced), but I want to be able to quaff a champagne or three at all events (you know, to be normal), so need to coordinate her final feeds with said shenanigans. Hopefully the excitement of travel won’t throw out her body clock too much.
I leave you with a couple of recent snaps of the girl. She just gets cuter every day (just ask me…)
Father & Daughter
“Who are you calling chubba?”
Separated at Birth #2
10 March 2006, 09:25
With all this banging on about how much Scout looks like McG (which is, ahem, a reassurance to all and sundry), I have categorical and indisputable PROOF (c/- baby photos from my folks) that she does, in fact, look quite uncannily like a newly hatched moi (complete with dodgy 70’s filtering…)
Permanent Link | Comments [3]Calling all interior decorators...
4 March 2006, 08:48
I need help (but what’s new?). We haven’t done much with Scout’s room since her arrival (what? after all that free time I have on my hands now???) and I’ve been having me some visions about an elegant colour scheme to suit our cheesy monkey.
At the moment, the room is pretty basic – off-white walls and wooden floorboards with cherry-wood furniture and caffe latte coloured curtains. I want to get an off-white bookshelf (to offset the heaviness of the furniture) and paint the crappy wooden piano stool the same off-white and paint flowers on the top.
Question is, what colour scheme? I’m thinking either:
- rose pink and pale yellow with red highlights
- rose pink and lime green with red highlights
- rose pink and caffe latte with red highlights
At the moment I’m leaning toward #1, but am open to other alternative ideas given what’s already in the room…
The room currently looks like this:
I’m not sure whether to paint a feature wall or paint all the walls below the hip-level trim (??? don’t know what this sticky-outy bit is actually called). Any advice from creatively inclined people?
Now all I have to do is wean Scouter and reclaim a couple of hours in my days to achieve the vision. Sigh.
Permanent Link | Comments [11]Daddy's Girl
3 March 2006, 19:06
Click to enlarge in Gallery…
Click for the Scout Photo Gallery
Permanent Link | Comments [4]4 Things... A Study in Meme
28 February 2006, 16:44
Husband loves these things, and I’ve never been bothered to do one, but with Tuesday being “Husband Helps Kinki out with Scout Day”, here goes…
Four jobs I’ve had in my life
- Waitress at Chinese restaurant
- Recruiter
- English teacher
- Communications Analyst
Four movies I can watch over and over
- The Exorcist
- Beverley Hills Cop
- Bridget Jones’ Diary
- Top Gun
Four places I have lived
- Newcastle, NSW (1971-1987)
- Vancouver, Canada (1995-1996)
- Tokyo, Japan (2001-2004)
- Melbourne, Victoria (present)
Four TV shows I love to watch
- 24
- Amazing Race
- Waking the Dead
- Lost
Four places I have been on vacation
- New York, USA
- Beijing, China
- London, England
- Niseko, Japan
Four of my favourite dishes
- Chick Pea Casserole from Moroccan Soup Bar, Fitzroy North
- Garlic Prawns from Gurkhas, Richmond
- Gyoza & Rice from Fukushin, Tokyo (now only a memory…)
- Rhubarb & Apple Crumble from the Vegie Bar, Fitzroy
Four websites I visit daily
- Calendar Hub because I can’t remember a bloody thing about what I’m doing these days
- Essential Baby Forum
- BabyCentre UK, the best damn website for baby crap
- Australian Breastfeeding Association, because, as you might have noticed, boobs are my life right now…
Four places I would rather be right now
- Sipping a coffee in Kitsilano, Vancouver
- Frolicking in the snow (doesn’t matter where – in Niseko or Big White, 2 faves…)
- Wolfing down a curry and beer in a hole-in-the-wall in Tokyo
- Sitting around a campfire in Upper Yarra Reservoir Park (aka “Moose Gully”)
Four bloggers I am tagging
Permanent Link | Comments [8]Ladies and Gents, we have ourselves a Chubba
25 February 2006, 09:07
Big Chubba
You are getting veeeeeeery sleeeeepy
Scout is now a month old and has expanded exponentially since her birth. She puts on something ridiculous like 300 grams every week (the average is around 150 grams) and feeds like an absolute demon. Not surprisingly, she’s been suffering a bit with the Wind in the Willows (we also have a little song for that, but I won’t subject you to it) and does massive adult-sized farts and burps. And here I was thinking we’d have to curb our wanton emissions when she came along so she wouldn’t get any bad habits. Pffffth.
My boobs have also not settled yet, so are quite engorged every feed, which means Scout gets this overwhelming hit of milk which she gulps with vigour and ends up with an overflow of milk all down her chin (we call this “getting some Clancy”. That’s one for Australian readers…)
She’s healthy though, and happy and has just started to smile at us rather than near us or at the ceiling. She may be a big chubba, but damn, she’s cute….
Permanent Link | Comments [3]The Bouncing Baby Song
20 February 2006, 09:11
McG and I have devised a song that will placate Scout the moment we start singing it. In fact, it’s the only song we currently have in our artillery with a 100% success rate. It goes a little something like this:
The little bouncing baby goes bounce, bounce, BOUNCE
The little bouncing baby goes bounce, bounce, BOUNCE
The little bouncing baby goes bounce, bounce, BOUNCE
The little bouncing baby goes bounce, bounce, BOUNCE
It is pure genius. Really.
Permanent Link | Comments [2]Separated at Birth?
17 February 2006, 11:17
Permanent Link | Comments [3]Boob Juice...
14 February 2006, 19:47
...is really rather amazing. As well as feeding and nourishing your baby it can also be used to:
1. Soothe sore nipples
2. Squirt up baby’s nose to unblock it.
3. Squirt into baby’s eyes to ungunk it.
4. Squirt your baby’s face (and sometimes your’s) during a feed. Just for fun.
5. have target practice in the shower. Did I say that?
Yeah, this stuff is all right!
Permanent Link | Comments [1]Story Time
11 February 2006, 15:23
The Hungry Caterpillar [“By the way, dad, when’s Boob O’Clock?”]
“Let me do it, dad…”
Scout had her first outing yesterday – to visit McG and my respective works, one in Collingwood, the other in the CBD. I nearly packed it in in the morning, though. McG had gone to work, Scout would not settle and I was on my own to both try and settle a baby in a serious tizz and get organised for a car outing. The thought of her wanting boob (NOW!) while we were driving or amongst colleagues filled me with dread (/anxiety/blind panic).
Thankfully, she finally passed out in my arms and was a perfect lady the whole trip. Everyone cooed “What a well-behaved baby!” Yeah, right.
She is a 50/50 baby. 50% of the time she is an absolute angel, settles right away or only needs a bit of a cuddle and a swaddle before she drifts off into lala land. The other 50% of the time nothing will placate her. Check nappy. Check time since last feed. Check temperature. Check vomit residue (seems she doesn’t like to sleep with her head in her own upchuck. Can’t imagine what’s wrong with her…). At the last turn, we check for sooky lala factor and that’s usually it. She just likes to fall asleep in mum and dad’s arms. Guess that’s better than her not wanting to.
Plus, I think McG and I have become a bit more tolerant and patient about her urgent outbursts so they’re (becoming) easier to deal with. That is, whilst McG is at home and can share the load. When he goes back to work full-time, I may very well go utterly birko. Watch this space…
In other TMI news, I’ve had a blocked duct in my right Boobster which is downright excruciating let me tell you, particularly when Scout is feeding. The skin is bright red, and if she hasn’t fed for over 3 hours, Boobster starts throbbing. A blocked duct can lead to mastitis for which one needs antibiotics, so I’ve been feeding her like a demon to drain it. With any luck it will clear on its own.
[Thanks for that.] I’ll be off now.
Permanent Link | Comments [6]Don't mess with a McG
9 February 2006, 11:12
Felix: Hey there little lady, your crib or mine?
Scout: You just better wise up young man, and learn how to treat me like a princess! Kerpow!@^&!
Permanent Link | Comments [1]A Scout Tryptych
6 February 2006, 10:15
Click to enlarge all images…
Sleeping
Tummy Time
One Tiny Hand
Permanent Link | Comments [8]Boob School
4 February 2006, 10:49
Post-milk glow… Click to enlarge in Gallery
Look. Why don’t you just bloody well tell me how cute she is?
**********
Went off to Boob School yesterday. Run by the Australian Breastfeeding Association, they are day sessions meant to help mums with the Art of Boob & Milk. I gotta tell ya though, after an hour there I felt like a big fat fraud. Compared to the problems the other girls were having, I was a Paragon of Successful Boob (sorry if TMI, but I had been struggling (but improving!) with sore nipples given SS took a lovely chomp out of both of them on Day 1. They were so bruised and beaten, breastfeeding was agony.) There were women there who couldn’t breastfeed or who hadn’t bonded with their babies or were so knackered by being up all night with their newborns, they could barely keep their eyes open.
It was nice to be taken care of, though. I rocked up to the Mercy, took up a comfy recliner next to the window and was waited on hand and foot by the midwives. They feed you, let you have a nap and coach you through the trials of breastfeeding. Such a supportive environment, and I came out the other end rather confident that I was doing everything right. In fact, the midwives were joking around that “I’d only come for the food”. Ahem.
SS slept for 5 hours straight last night. She was a little bugger to get off to sleep – her M.O is that she gets over-tired and NOTHING will calm her. OK. The Dummy (aka The Pacifier for U.S readers) will calm her but I hate that thing, although am growing to grudgingly love it.
Anything for a quiet life.
McG’s mum has come across from Adelaide to spend time with the little one. Of course, she fell in love instantly. She has also stated that SS is the cutest baby she’s ever seen. And she’s not remotely biased, oh no. See I told you.
Permanent Link | Comments [5]I am not SuperMum
2 February 2006, 12:20
There. I said it.
Yesterday was v. bad day – Sophia basically didn’t sleep all day, cried and cried and cried and nothing we did seemed to placate her. Of course, the more hysterical she became, the more over-tired she was, so the cycle just continued. Every time she cried, I cried harder (which I’m sure helped…) and McG was left taking care of his two girls rather than just the one who really needed it.
At 10pm, at our wits end, we called our good bud, Roz (aka Godsend) whose baby had been colicky (we thought that’s what might have been wrong with Sophia) and she came over with stories of the legendary holy grail of newborn pacification – the Dummy.
Now I know there is much debate about use of the dummy and I certainly don’t want to use it as a crutch (only for desperate times!), but Sophia just loves to suck all day. All day. She is a voracious little barracuda. So instead of her sucking my boobs dry every hour, we used the dummy and it. worked. She went to sleep almost immediately. And because she hadn’t slept at all yesterday, slept for 7 hours last night. McG and I finally got some sleep.
And peace descended upon the land…
In other baby news, Sophia has achieved second milestone – she gave McG his first ever hickey. Actually, make that the first milestone for McG. I tells ya, this baby loves to suck it down.
Home with my Girl… Click to enlarge in Gallery
Permanent Link | Comments [6]I. just. can't. bear. it...
30 January 2006, 19:38
...just how cute she is… Click to enlarge in Gallery
Everything seems to be going well. The SS McG is a voracious milker – my boobs may or may not be about to fall off. And she reached her first milestone today – her first turbo-jet squirt poo. She managed to slime herself, me and half the nursery wall. That’s my girl…
Permanent Link | Comments [4]The SS McG pulls into port!
27 January 2006, 09:43
Well, she’s here. Little Sophia Scout McG.
Here’s a picture of our angel. Isn’t she a delight?
The SS McG Roadshow… Click to enlarge in Gallery
The last few days have been an understandable whirlwind. We’re back at home now after a 3 night stay at the Mercy Hospital in Heidelberg (that I cannot recommend highly enough) and coping with the rigours of new parenthood…
********
The Labour (minus a few gory details)
I went into labour on Saturday evening around 6pm, with what I was sure were mild gas pains. 6 minutes apart. I made it through Iron Chef with coach Kaga’s appeals to “GET IT ON!!!” before finally calling the Birth Centre around 10.30 as I was in a considerable amount of pain. The midwife didn’t sound concerned (they like you stay at home for as long as possible) as apparently I sounded quite lucid but I had a massive contraction just after that made me go “that’s it. we’re going in. this is it baby.”
I’m so glad I did. A mere 4 hours later, at 3.59am, SS McG emerged from her dark home into the waiting hands of Husband. I hadn’t even had a chance to get the second dose of penicillin before she popped out. I’d coped with the whole labour with only gas (I am such a hero, just ask me) but of course, heaved my guts up into a kidney bowl within minutes of the delivery. I don’t remember hearing the midwife say “she’s a girl”, but when they popped her up onto my chest I started shaking with relief and overwhelming emotion. But although I wanted to have her with me, my overriding thought was “when the hell can I sleep?”
Note to self: don’t bother hauling laptop computer into Birthing Centre to use as distraction technique. I’d always thought this an odd suggestion, to bring games/cards whatever to the birth. In retrospect, this was mere folly. By the time I actually got to the suite I could barely stand (although apparently I passed out asleep for a little while between contractions which I don’t remember at all. Who the hell sleeps when there is work to be done?) I’m supposing this is handy when woman is in early stages of labour which I certainly was not.
At the risk of grossing out faithful readers, giving birth in the last stage, (i.e. pushing/delivery) is almost exactly like doing a massive backed-up-for-3-months poo (not that I’ve ever had a poo backed up for that long). It is the god-most uncomfortable sensation in the world, much worse than contractions. By the time I got to that stage I was buggered, but kept shrieking, “I can’t do this, I can’t push anymore. I can’t! I CAN’T!!!!!” I mean, honestly, what choice did I have? Sorry, sweetie, but you’re just gonna have to stay jammed up there ‘cos you’re mum is a big fat lazy defeatist wimp. Sigh.
Sorry to be terrifically smug but the labour was absolutely textbook. Short and sweet (if intense), no painkillers, no episiostomy, no stitches. In fact she came out looking like a caesar baby with barely a blemish.
The Stats
SS weighed in at 6lb 9oz and in total I was in labour for 6 hours 42 minutes. Not bad for a first attempt.
The Aftermath
I haven’t slept a full night since last Friday night. It’s totally worth it, of course, just hard work. I couldn’t sleep after the delivery, although I was advised to as SS would probably sleep for 10 hours or so, but I was so pumped. The impact of what had happened to us hit me sometime late Sunday morning. I woke up from a snooze and SS was sleeping in between Husband and I in bed and I just took one look at her and started bawling. I hadn’t expected to be assaulted with such feelings of love and thankfulness that she was safe and absolutely beautiful (because that couldn’t be only my biased opinion…)
Late Sunday night, the Birthing Centre was so chockers full of women giving birth (read: groaning and wailing their heads off in agony – it really is a sound like no other), we were transferred up to a “Partner Package” in the Maternity Wards. Obscene. Like living it up in a 4 star hotel room with double bed and ensuite so Matt could “room in” for the entire stay. We were taken such good care of – the midwives & night nurses were (I think without exception) excellent, although with different midwives every day and visits from consulting paediatricians and lactation consultations, I got tired of hearing conflicting pieces of “advice” about the way to do various “things”.
Like breastfeeding. It’s fucking hard work, man. I always thought it would be this thing where you knew how much your baby needed and you’d instinctively know what to do and where to put everything, but it isn’t like that AT ALL. Maybe it is for some mums but sure as hell not for me. Never have I felt so much like a prize heiffer with a perpetual case of runny udder. It’s rather alarming.
The fatigue has started to kick in, having to be awake every 3 hours for a (painful at this stage) feed. The weather hasn’t helped. Yesterday was 40 degrees (that’s celsius) in Melbourne and SS was lethargic and sleepy most of the day. Meh.
and the winner is. . . .
Auntie Claire with the closest Baby Tipping tip of Girl born on 22 January, weighing in at 7lb 6oz. Only 10 oz off the pace!
Oh and don’t forget to check out my cheeky monkey’s take on proceedings over at Wrigglepot, and Husband’s at Opinios.
So I think that’s it for me for now. Must. go. to. nap. Zzzzzzzzzz
Permanent Link | Comments [21]Let's get this Bloody Show on the road!
21 January 2006, 08:56
...or on the Bloody Floor as the case may be…
I may (or may not, I really have no idea how this Labour/Pregnancy thing is meant to work) have had a Bloody Show this morning. This term is my hands-down fave pregnancy term of them all… Excuse me love, sorry about all this damn mucous, but I seem to have put on a bloody show!
The “Bloody Show” usually appears with the “Mucous Plug”, an infinitely less satisfying term, but having either doesn’t even indicate that Labour is about to start (which is just bloody great), although generally labour tends to start anytime from 24 hours afterwards (but up to 2 weeks later! I mean, why even bother having one in the first place?). Gah…
Thankfully, am picking up my TENS machine today for use during delivery. I decided I could deal with Labour Pain, but having to deal with my nemesis, HD (Herniated Disc) at the same time was going to be pushing it, and I’m keen to have as few drugs as humanly possible. I’d booked into a TENS workshop at the Hospital on Monday (day before Due Date) which is cutting it v. fine. At least if I do go into Labour, I’ll be in the right place.
In last night’s news, I had the biggest full-on “I want this baby out of my body NOW and why don’t I wake the neighbours while I’m at it” tanty I reckon I’ve ever had.
All day it had been hot and windy and I was frustrated at being at home and I was dropping everything on the floor but not able to pick them up because of Fat Gut in the way and HD was twinging the minute I did anything that wasn’t lying down and around 7.30pm I was starting to get a migraine because I hadn’t eaten and poor Husband gets home and I just LOSE IT!!!
I think MiniMc decided Sod This for a Joke, I’m not hanging around in this Bloody Woman’s body anymore if she’s going to bang on like a wailing Harpie hence the casting out of the Bloody Show. Smart baby this one (again, takes after it’s father…)
Permanent Link | Comments [21]"Another One Bites the Dust" Tipping Table Updates
21 January 2006, 05:00
Tipping Table (by date)
| Tipper’s Name | Boy or girl? | Date of Birth | Weight of MiniMc @ birth |
|---|---|---|---|
| Yukiko | Boy | 19 Jan 2006 | 7lb5oz |
| Reika | Girl | 21 Jan 2006 | 7lb |
| Elbhenry | Girl | 22 Jan 2006 | 8lb2oz |
| Claire | Girl | 22 Jan 2006 | 7lb6oz |
| Ferit | Boy | 23 Jan 2006 | 7lb8oz | Andrea | Boy | 23 Jan 2006 | 7lb5oz |
| D203 | Boy | 25 Jan 2006 | 6lb8oz |
| Katie | Girl | 25 Jan 2006 | 7lb4oz |
| Nicole | Girl | 26 Jan 2006 | 6lb |
| Jude | Boy | 26 Jan 2006 | 8lb1oz |
| Sussy | Girl | 28 Jan 2006 | 7lb9oz |
| A&K | Boy | 28 Jan 2006 | 8lb |
| Rin | Girl | 28 Jan 2006 | 8lb2oz |
| Doug | Girl | 29 Jan 2006 | 8lb |
| Gleek | Girl | 30 Jan 2006 | 7lb7oz |
| Sarah | Boy | 31 Jan 2006 | 8lb1oz |
| Jeremy | Boy | 31 Jan 2006 | 8lb |
| Kat | Girl | 1 Feb 2006 | 6lb6oz |
| Mille | Boy | 3 Feb 2006 | 7lb |
| Numine | Boy | 5 Feb 2006 | 8lb3oz |
| Hammy | Girl | 10 Feb 2006 | 7lb3oz |
| Megha | Girl | 12 Feb 2006 | 6lb10oz |
Locked and Loaded
19 January 2006, 12:18
It may not look it from yesterday’s pic, but MiniMc has finally locked and loaded (i.e. “engaged” for you sticklers of medical terminology) which means it’s popped it’s cheeky head down the pelvis and can’t go anywhere but out (out! OUT!)
I’m stoked about this turn of events, as it was changing possies every frikkin’ day. Downside is that moi’s pelvis is very VERY sore and I am definitely waddling. Just call me Mother Duck.
As for the Baby Tipping Comp, well already a couple of tippers (Bogue and Sam) are out of the running! I must say I’m surprised about Bogue, as I was quite convinced he had the powers of enigmatic foresight. Alas, in this case, wrong.
Permanent Link | Comments [5]Social Butterfly
18 January 2006, 09:13
It’s ridiculous. Here I am, 39 weeks pregnant, about to squirt out a (considerably large) morsel and every day bar one, for the last two weeks, I’ve caught up with a friend for lunch. I’m not saying that I’m usually a social retard or anything but these days I feel quite the Popularity Queen.
When I’m not poshing around with Fat Gut, I’ve been sitting on fanny, enjoying the Aussie Open and making freezeable meals (have about 3 weeks worth so far) to avoid having to cook with child off breast. I actually feel v. genki, most of my errands are done, hospital bags are packed and have not yet had barrage of parents and in-laws calling to see whether anything’s happened yet. Not that I’d mind that necessarily. Like this Lady of Leisure business, oh yes indeedy.
Fat Gut is getting decidedly uncomfortable, and MiniMc can’t decide whether it’s sideways or head-down (takes after it’s father, then!). Assume the position, little one!!!! Let’s GO, GO, GOOOOO!
Permanent Link | Comments [9]Photo Friday x 2
13 January 2006, 07:49
For all budding snapophiles out there, Photo Friday is a fun photo submission site with weekly themes. Check it out.
13 Jan 2005 – “Success”
(Wishing for) “Success”... Click to enlarge in Gallery
The Story behind “Success”
This was taken in March 2004 during Hanami season, when our friend “A” (now the mother of a gorgeous 4 month old son) visited us in Tokyo. It was a miserable & drizzly day, which we spent getting tanked on Japanese beer, eating loads of food and dragging her to a couple of noteable sites, one being Senso-Ji in Asakusa, where the photo was taken.
This ritual consists of wafting incense from a large vessel into whatever elements of the body you need help with, be it smarts, wealth, love, success etc. etc. Not sure if it works, but I’m sure as hell not too bright, still…
6 Jan 2005 – “Panorama”
“Panorama”... Click to enlarge in Gallery
The Story behind “Panorama”
Not the most interesting of “stories”, this was taken at sunset (noooooooo!) on Kangaroo Island in December 2004 when McG and I spent a delightful couple of days spotting many seals & echidnas, but no kangaroos…
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Sweet Dreams
13 January 2006, 07:41
Gah, haven’t felt much like writing this past week. I have been consumed with energy, but exhaust myself really quickly, overdoing the errands/lunches with friends/chores etc. Unfortunately I don’t know my own limitations (I’m not real bright, you see) and put my back out again yesterday whilst, of all things, chopping vegetables. I’m not expecting sympathy here, merely articulating my own tomfoolery…
Pregnant ladies seem to carry on about their vivid and crazy baby dreams, particularly in the last few months. Alas, I have little to report on that front and I am usually the first to have madcap dreams. I’ve had a handful of weird-arse dreams, and have had a recurring one (ahem, recurring twice) where my labour was pain-free and I gave birth to Mr. Hanky (aka, the Christmas Poo). But if dreams are meant to reflect your unconscious fears and expectations, then I’m in serious trouble. The word “Denial” springs to mind.
I had a dream last night that Peter Gabriel served me at a Bookstore and I asked him if they had any books about him (they didn’t). What could all this mean so close to the birth? Should I be naming my child “Gabriel/Gabe” if it’s a boy (or “Gabrielle” if it’s a girl)??? That’s just so Mr. Kotter. Colour me horrified.
Permanent Link | Comments [1]Some days = Better than Others
7 January 2006, 08:37
After a relatively blissful 8 months of pregnancy with only the occasional bit of spotting and back pain, yesterday’s Birth Centre visit slam dunked me back into harsh reality;
1. My BP was relatively sky high. Which one could explain by the fact that the midwife had just told me that…
2. I tested postive for GBS. In these enlightened (and testing-heavy) times, the risk of a baby catching a nasty infection is remote (cruelly, the carrier is 100% healthy), but, untreated, there’s a tiny chance MiniMc could catch an infection from me while making its way down the Red Brick Road. It means I have the option of having penicillin at least 4 hours before delivery (an option I’m sure as hell going to take, I’d do anything to make sure MiniMc is born healthy), and I’d have to stay in the hospital for at least 48 hours so they can keep an eye on MiniMc. So instead of being excited about the labour, I’m a wee bit anxious about getting to the hospital in time to have the drugs and stave off any transferral of the infection.
Truth is, I’m not exactly upset about all this (a friend of mine had it also and made herself a mess over it, poor duck) as whatever happens, happens, there’s really nothing I can do or could have done about it, but I’m dispirited about the news – I’ve done everything right and Mother Nature has now thrown me a goddamn curve-ball at the eleventh hour.
3. MiniMc was curled up in the transverse position. At nearly 38 weeks this is a borderline concern, as no head down = no natural birth these days. The midwife hummed and haahed for a bit and finally said, “We might get you upstairs for an ultrasound to see what’s going on…” At the mere sound of the word “ultrasound”, MiniMc (and I kid you not) went “plop” and somersaulted into the head down possie. C.h.e.e.k.y m.o.n.k.e.y (I myself can’t talk, I was breech until about 2 days before my mum spat me out).
This kid has impeccable timing.
Of course, now MiniMc has slid back into the transverse position where apparently its very comfy (perhaps wisely keeping away from all that nasty bacteria…).
Midwife has insisted that I rest up in these last couple of weeks, but I HATE just dumping my arse on the couch and twiddling my thumbs. I have heaps of energy and want to get shit done, you know. I’m a Woman not an Amoeba!!!!
Permanent Link | Comments [5]My bags are (half) packed, I'm ready to go...
2 January 2006, 20:27
Well, it’s official kids, at 37 weeks, MiniMc is now fully-cooked so this bun could charge out of the oven any day now. As if on cue, I got my first stretchmark the other day. 4 tiny little red marks on the top of each blossoming hip. And I’ve been having what I think are Braxton Hicks contractions (dress-rehearsal contractions), lovingly referred to in these parts as Hickston Bracks contractions.
Just reading about other women’s experiences of childbirth, I wonder if I’m being terribly naive about my approach to childbirth. I’m confident that I’ll be able to handle the pain of labour, just by, well, handling it. Mums-to-Be do all kinds of things to prepare themselves for labour, attend hypnobirthing or JuJu technique classes, use an epi-no (eek, don’t ask, in fact, do ask ...), but I’m always like “Nah, I’ll be right. It’ll be painful, but I’ve got a job to do and I’ll just, you know, deal with it ...”
Just in the last couple of days, though, my herniated disc has returned with a vengeance and I had to accept the fact that maybe I won’t be able to have an active birth and will need to have an epidural which I really don’t want to have. I’m off to the physio tomorrow and will also give acupuncture a go in the next week to see if I can’t knock this herniated bastard on the head. I am nothing if not a stubborn f%^ck. We’ll see. Que Sera Sera. Blah Blah Blah.
Permanent Link | Comments [6]Year of the Rooster. A Retrospective
1 January 2006, 11:09
Year of the Rooster
First Up, Happy New Year all!
Ah, 2005, a heady year. Probably my “biggest” year to date, which is saying something, given last year’s foray into The Marriage and returning home from several years in Japan.
So what were Kinki’s Highlights for 2005?
- Getting Up the Duff. This entailed help from McG, but he made a jolly good showing of it.
- Buying a House. This entailed being dicked around by The Bank, who also made a good showing of that.
- Getting a promotion at the same Bank.
- Our getaway to North Queensland in October. To get away from the House and the Bank. But not the Up-the-Duff bit.
- Realising what a great life I have, a fabulous Husband, a funny little person swishing around in my womb, who I can’t wait to meet, a Job I really enjoy and although there are heaps of things that need to be done on the House, a cosy little spot full of character (and rotten stumps… ahem) in the inner ‘burbs.
- Keeping this blog up-to-date. I thought I’d most certainly ditch it when I came back from Japan, but I’m so glad my narcisistic, self-indulgent side prevented me from doing so. Yes, it may be boring compared to the J-Years, but it’s my corner of the blog world and I love it…
and where to from here?
2006 is most certainly gonna compete with 2005 for Biggest Year Award. I’m gonna pop/squeeze/poop out MiniMc in a few weeks and the next year (an entire year off work!!!) is going to be caring for the little munchkin. There will be laughter, there will be tantrums, I may even put my head in a fully-loaded toilet and flush it to remind myself that things could be worse. But it will all be so worth it. Big Changes. BIG.
Huge.
Can’t wait…
Husband has done an infinitely better wrap-up of 2005, so go check out his post
Permanent Link | Comments [3]
