Unhappiest Day of the Year?
22 January 2007, 17:45
“They” reckon that today, Scout’s birthday, is the unhappiest day of the year. The day we had Scout, it was 44 degrees, the power at the Mercy Hospital packed it in (no air con, but thankfully still backup for the heart monitors and such like) and I was as knackered as I’ve ever been (and throwing up green mush into the kidney pan – no doubt from the excessive amount of gas I’d sucked into my guts during labour) but hell, it was the happiest day of my life.
So suck that in.
Is this the face of a baby born on the unhappiest day of the year?
Permanent Link | Comments [4]Baby likes to PAH-TAAAY!
21 January 2007, 18:49
Scout had her first birthday party yesterday, a hot and rainy day. I’d usually be disappointed that it was raining, given my lofty plans for a kid’s wading pool and outdoor champagnated ambience. But everyone (including us) were stoked that it was raining – it’s been weeks since we’ve had any decent rain and everything’s dying around us.
Raindance
Luckily our little place handled 13 adults and 8 kids quite handsomely inside. Scout had had a shithouse couple of days in terms of sleeps so we were a bit concerned that she’d cut sick everywhere and I’d have a(nother) meltdown. Not so – she was divine.
Just give ‘em a beer and the cricket…
Now she can stand up reasonably well, she’s given her own spin on the Scout groove, bopping up and down with her hands in the air while pointing at the roof/fairies in the sky. Much to McG’s distaste, she is totally into ABBA, like totally into ABBA. Makes her mum totally proud, like. My girl is gonna have boo-tay. Oh, yeah.
Giddy up, you pahtay thing
Her birthday cake was in the shape of an “S” made out of alternating pink and white cupcakes, with a flurry of red and pink candy hearts along the trail. From La Cuisine de Kinki. It was Scout’s first ever taste of cake (Mum being an anal “no-sugar-unless-absolutely-necessary” type) and, not surprisingly, she’s been expecting cake for every meal ever since.
Partying is such thirsty work
We don’t have any family here in Melbourne so our friends came out in force (well, a reasonably small group with bubs who know Scout well – we didn’t want to freak her out) and gave her (us…) a day to remember.
More 1st Birthday Pahtay photos here
Permanent Link | Comments [1]...one small step...
19 January 2007, 19:51
Ah yes, the inevitable “I’m so proud, I could cut my arm off and I wouldn’t even flinch” post. Scout has taken her very first wonky step on her own. It happened so suddenly. It was only a week ago that she could stand on her own for a few seconds, now she’s steppin’ out for chrissakes.
I’d asked the girls at creche not to tell us if she took her first steps there, so for all I know she could have been spinnin’ on the ceiling all day, doing cartwheels & pirouetting like a Nutcracker. But ignorance is bliss, peeps, we saw it. First.
In S.L.O M.O.
Permanent Link | C'mon, hit me! [3](Back) to School
17 January 2007, 19:35
I started work last Monday, steeling myself for the inevitable strains of separation anxiety (mostly mine) as I sauntered off into the CBD sunrise.
I arrived at work, bought a coffee (full-strength – I’ve weaned her of every feed except the evening one) and by 3pm, apart from my darling Scout for 7 long hours, how did I feel? Well, freakin’ bloody FANTASTIC actually. Work was a VACATION. I go to work to have a DAY OFF. I get paid to be creative, to have coffee with my old cronies under the guise of “work” (well, we do some) and have a one hour lunch break (can’t bring myself to take that long, it seems so DECADENT).
Did I miss her? Well, sort of, but I was just so busy that I didn’t have time to think about it. And it was so nice to come home to her after someone else (husband) had taken care of her for the day. Nice to exchange shoes with someone who’s soles were still intact.
To pay me back for pissing off 3 days a week, when I took her to Daycare on Tuesday, I left, tried to say goodbye to her, and did she even notice that I’d gone? Um, nup. Couldn’t have given a shit. She loved it. We knew she would, little sociable flirty-bird.
It hurts me to be this cute
Permanent Link | Comments [1]Bad Mum!
14 January 2007, 08:02
So we went to a first birthday party yesterday, for the child of a guy McG works with. I had a champagne. Thinking I’d have just one. I got a bit over-excited. Met a few girls from the mum’s mothers group who were uber-cool and next thing I know it’s 8pm, I’ve polished off, like, 8 or so champers and I’m (a little bit) drunk. Not the throwing up in the gutter, picking fights with the neighbours kind of drunk, but rather an excitable, don’t quite remember leaving the party or thanking the hosts kind of drunk.
When we got home, I breastfed. I sat on the chair with my head spinning, dropping off to a stuporous sleep, with Scout on my lap taking a nice, decent swig of my champagne-infested milk. She passed out at about 9pm, and she’s still asleep. Hope I haven’t killed too many of her brain cells…
I feel a bit guilty, but probably not as much as I should. I’ve been so careful with not drinking and breastfeeding, I figure a slip-up here and there can’t be disastrous. Surely.
Except if my poor little girl is nursing a hangover today. Bad Mum…
Permanent Link | Comments [1]ETD SAHM
7 January 2007, 08:02
Come Monday morning at 8 a.m, I will no longer be a full-time Stay at Home Mum (that’s SAHM for the parentally-challenged). And I must say I’m a bit relieved.
I love being at home with Scout – she’s effervescent & charming company (oh my god, that cheesy grin just kills ya!) & lately the weather has been simply marvelous for plenty of scoutings. But I’m bored as bat-shit most of the time. There is only so many times you can put triangle shapes into triangle shape holes, hoping for her to emulate and graduate from college at 4, before you start dreaming about flashing shapes chasing you down a dark alley (ah, those were the days…). No doubt the day she does figure it out will make me as proud as punch and thankful I ever made the effort, but let’s face it, all (well, most) kids work it out eventually. And when she’s tired and cranky, the “h” in “whinge” is certainly not silent.
I am looking forward to being at work, having mostly adult conversations during the day, being paid to be creative and actually taking a lunch-break. Sorry, excuse me, LUNCH BREAK. For one whole freaking hour. Someone pinch me, for gods sake. I will be tormented by Scout having to go to childcare and be looked after & comforted by someone who isn’t me but the chances are very good that she’ll love it. Probably more so than being at home with a bored mum who doesn’t let her play with power plugs & VCRs.
“People, we must stand up for our right to eat electrical wire!”
More photos from the Annual Babies’ Solidarity Conference here
And I can’t wait to lose this goddamn baby fat. Not that I’m exactly a porker but I’m busting out of all my suits with the exception of my maternity suit (shudder) so revolution is nigh. I always thought breastfeeding would keep me trim and terrific, but. Unfortunately. Not. I’m hungry all the time, and when you’re at home mostly 24/7 with a bub, the tempation to raid the fridge is rampant.
BUT I will miss my almost daily contact with 3 of the girls from my Mother’s Group who are 3 awesome chicks, a lot like me but different enough to make it interesting. Without them I don’t think I would have seen December without visits from men in strappy white coats. And I will miss my little girl those 3 days a week. But I think I will appreciate the time I do get to spend with her even more. I wasn’t cut out to be a full-time SAHM. And that’s totally OK.
Permanent Link | Comments [5]
