Monday, 14 November 2016


The 7.5 earthquake last night didn't affect us.  I felt a slight rolling sensation, lifted my head off the pillow thinking "hmmm...earthquake?" but hearing nothing rattling or banging or moving I put my head back down and chucked it up to pregnancy dizziness (is that a thing?), lack of sleep, or a day of coffee drinking.  An hour later the tom cat pissing in the house came in, I chased him out, and half an hour after that Bubs was up. 

I haven't been sleeping well lately.  Since a wicked tummy bug had me puking my guts out two weeks ago, I have found that I just cannot fall asleep before 2am.  And last night Bubs couldn't sleep either.  Today she has a new molar peeking through.  She wasn't fussy...she just wasn't sleeping.  I could post a whole other lot of stuff, but I am trying to get some baking done while Bubs is "enjoying" a few hours at daycare. 

Just wanted to say we are fine :)

Wednesday, 28 September 2016

The State of Things

Hi there.  It has been awhile.  I'm still mostly reading blogs (though I don't comment so much) but I have been AWOL from this blog.  There are a couple of reasons.

I suppose a trigger warning is needed, so if you are in a bad place, click away.

 Cleo as an octopus

The State of My Mind.  It all started as my maternity leave wound down and I had to get back to working and prepping for that stupid audit.  I won't go into the details about it all, but it stressed me out.  I could not stop thinking about all the things the company needed (and really, lets be honest, still needs) to do.  We passed the audit (thank god) and I had a small breather before I had to pretty much overhaul much of our health and safety program for the legislation change.  The audit was in January, the legislation change was in April.  I had about 6 pages of to-do lists taped up all over my "office" area.  Once again, I could not stop thinking about all the things that needed to be done.  Add to that an irresponsible supervisor who expected me to be his personal secretary (ugh) and a bunch of fuckwits (in their 60s-70s) who bully the shit out of each other and then come bitching to me about it (with bosses who won't do shit about the situation because they don't think they should have to, because adults should behave like adults- to which I call bullshit, since when do adults actually behave like adults??)...ugh, here I go, digressing....anyway, I started to dream about quitting that job.  So I did.  I waited until after harvest, after I went out of town with the Moose and the Bubs (during which time I received annoying emails from work expecting me to do something about this other situation- yeah, ain't happening), and after the boss got back from his holiday.  Then I quit.

It was a bit stressful because money was starting to get tight, but we were finally able to access an investment and a few months ago we paid of the mortgage and we are in a much better position now.  We still have to be a little careful, since we are living off of only one income, but things are a lot less tight now.

And I am still on the payroll, still giving advise to the boss's wife (who took over my job), still giving advise to a client, and still expected to help out a bit.  I am mostly ok with this, because I will choose how much of my time and sanity to give.  As far as I am concerned, I am done, really.  People may pick my poor disorganized brain, but I am not putting in the effort.

Anyway, quitting felt good.  It felt brilliant actually.  BUT.  My brain didn't stop.  It replaced work with other things.  Things like what if the car went off the road into the river?  How would I get Bubs out of the backseat and her carseat, how would I break the window, get the Moose out, etc etc.  I am terrified of drowning or being trapped under water (yes I can swim, no I don't enjoy being under the water though).  It got to the point where some days washing my face in the shower would just about leave me choking.  And it isn't just that situation.  We are expecting a major earthquake here sometime in the next 50 years or so (a magnitude 8) and the longer it takes to happen the worse it will be.  I am still working on building up our supplies, working out our strategies, etc.  I think this is useful and something I need to do, but not something I need to lie awake about all night freaking out about.  Especially when instead of thinking of a list of first aid supplies our kit should have, I am busy trying to figure out if Bub's cot can handle the ceiling coming down on it.

The state of the world was also affecting me.  Trump and Brexit and driver-less cars and drones and more sleepless nights.  I've unfollowed many people on facebook to limit my exposure to some of the vitriol.  There is a ban on current events as a topic with my parents (who thankfully aren't Trump supporters- but that is only because they don't like his personality) after I had to explain to my mother why god doesn't belong in public schools and the whole perceived "ban on Christmas" business.  My mother raised us outside of the church and to not be religious, as an interesting side note.  This is all very sad to me, and very stressful, and I honestly believe that the world our children will inherit is a worse one than the one we grew up in.  Boo.  

I have had some issues with anxiety in the past.  Usually it comes to the surface once a year and I spend a few hours having an actual panic attack (or my version of one, complete with twitchy eyes, a racing pulse, speech of 500 words per minute and an inability to sit still).  I burn it off and am usually ok.  Other things, like public speaking or that sort I can just use visualization and breathing techniques to work my way through it, and I over-prepare (or occasionally under-prepare just for something different).  This I couldn't cope with though.  I would lay awake, waiting for Bubs to wake up so I could pull her into bed with me and cuddle her and maybe get a few hours of sleep.  During the day I would find myself nearly paralyzed and unable to do much of anything except attend to Bubs needs.

I spoke with my doctor about this (while there for another reason) and she pretty much just told me to google cognitive behavior therapies.  Thanks, doc.  Maybe I should lose some weight too, since that is obviously the cause of all ills (d'ya hear the sarcasm?).  Doctor aside, I decided to try this first.  I don't want to go to therapy, and I am just the kind of analytical enough to give it a go.  Mostly, most of the time, this is working for me.  I am feeling much better now.  I can sleep.  I can function.  Maybe more daylight and warmer weather have helped too, but I feel much more alive and human now.

The State of the Bubs.  Right now she is picking through her dinner with the help of a bic pen, but hey, she may actually eat some of it so she can keep the damn pen.  She is a fussy fussy eater.  And getting molars, which doesn't help.  I could bang on and on about this, but she is growing (at 16 months she is still the size of some of the 12 month-er's we meet) and the doc isn't concerned. 

She is sleeping in her cot now.  At least until the middle of the night when she wakes up and I bring her into bed with the us.  Some nights, maybe one in three, she sleeps the whole night.  This is such an improvement.  And mostly due to the warming weather.  She hates blankets with the fire of a thousand suns and kicks them off, gets cold and wakes up (despite the panel heater in her room).  Our house is cold.  Most NZ houses are cold.  Such is life.  I hope she can learn to love the blankets though.

Still waiting for her to start using words.  She talks alot, but in her own language.  She is quite good at getting her point across anyway, and she understands a lot more than it appears, but still nothing.  She will "mamamamama" and "dadadada" but not necessarily meaning mama and dada.  Since she is quite happy to babble along I am not worried yet.  She will start in her own time (and she gets a 2 month lee-way for milestones).

She is the cutest thing ever, and when not teething she is wonderfully delightful.  She does have tantrums like nothing else when she doesn't get her own way/isn't allowed to eat catfood/dirt/play with electrical outlets, etc.  When she is teething the tantrums come damn near constant.  I am sure this is all normal.  What I have a problem with are the tantrums around my cooking.  Anytime I try to prepare a meal (if the Moose isn't home especially) she clings to my legs, tries to push me out of the kitchen and screams at me.  I ignore her, or try to distract her with a toy or tv (the one time of day I turn it on in desperate hopes that she will actually sit down and let me cook!).  Sometimes this works, sometimes she screams at me for half an hour +.  This has been going on for months and is driving me a wee bit mental.  I am hoping it is a phase and soon it will end.

The State of the Moose.   I should do an entire post on how Bubs makes a better bedfellow (snoring, cold feet, etc), but I am not going to- this is getting long enough and it has taken me 3-4 sessions so far just to get this far.  Lets just say marriage is hard enough, and it is even harder with a toddler in the picture.  But we are surviving and still happy to be with each other.  One quick story- I asked him to watch Bubs for a few minutes while I put some laundry away- she was playing in the doorway and he was a few feet away on the sofa (sliding glass door = our front door).  Our bedroom looks out on the veranda a short distance from the door, so I peeked out the window at Bubs.  She saw me and came over to see me, so I picked her up through the window and she and I put a few socks away.  No sound from the Moose (who was looking at some papers).  So I called out "Bubby, where are you?  I haven't heard you for a few minutes, what are you up to?"  and within 20 seconds the Moose takes up the call, looks up and realizes she is gone.  He booked it out the door and was heading down the veranda towards the drive (which we share with two other houses) when we popped out of the window and said "Boo!".  He was not impressed, but I think he learned his lesson.

Trigger warning number 2... I am guessing you can guess where this is going so if you want to look away do so now.

Toffee yawning

The State of the Uterus.  I am 18 weeks pregnant today.  We got lucky on our second cycle attempt for number 2.  I've spent a lot of time thinking about this, mostly in regards to what I would say on this blog, what this means, and how I identify myself.  I didn't expect this to happen so quickly. 

It took us 2 years to get Bubs.  2 years.  It took 2 months to get pregnant again.  I don't know what this means exactly.  I am not infertile (as we proved with Bubs) but I think I am not sub-fertile either.  I don't know what I am exactly, but I do know that this blog is no longer appropriate considering the original purpose. 

I identify more closely with being a mum to a preemie and a pre-eclampsia survivor than I do with in/sub-fertility, and I have for some time.  The 6 weeks in the NICU and the experience with pre-eclampsia have coloured my life far more than the 2 years of TTC.  I think blogging here, in the early pre-Bubs days (and during that pregnancy), and even more importantly reading other blogs and interacting with other bloggers has given me an insight that probably most fertile women do not have.  I choose my words more carefully when talking to women about babies, TTC, etc and I am careful not to be an obnoxious social media poster (oh, good lord, someone the other day tagged my pregnant cousin with a "tag a pregnant woman who is beautiful" type thing and I felt annoyed on behalf of all women who will see crap like that and find it hurtful).  I will be forever understanding of the struggles of so many, and I will do what I can (even though it may be little more than listen and acknowledge) to help (if I could knock you all up, I would) and I will never ever tell anyone to "just relax" or "just adopt" or any of those annoying, ignorant, hurtful things. 

I do realize that I cannot wrap cotton wool around everyone, and that my words, actions, or mere existence may cause pain to some.  For that I am sorry, but I feel I should give this blog some closure as opposed to simply disappearing from it without a word.  My plan is to include one more post- on the conclusion of this pregnancy.  I will leave that post up for a few weeks (or longer if I forget) and then I will probably delete this blog.  I don't think it will be that helpful for women starting out on their own journeys- I was blogging for such a short time before I got pregnant with Bubs.  If I don't delete it, I might just have a one post abridged version of our story.  I am still waffling a bit on what to do.  I do know that I won't be blogging anymore, here or elsewhere.  I just don't have the time, or the words.  Sometimes I have ideas, things I want to put out there...but I just can't.  Maybe one day in the future.  Probably the distant future. 

So this isn't quite goodbye for now, or maybe for good (I am still reading blogs and commenting when I get the chance).  See you in a few months.

In case anyone is wondering, a few (interesting?) things from this pregnancy (look away if you need to, this is wrapping up this long long post so there is no reason to hang around)
  • I have a "good chance" of making it to 34 weeks this time before pre-eclampsia hits me again (personal goal is 36 weeks).
  • I lost nearly 10 kg in 6 weeks before getting preggers.  With Bubs I also dropped some weight before we conceived her.  Don't know if there is something to this.  (No, I was not losing weight in any sort of healthy way- extreme calorie counting goes hand in hand with someone attempting to feel in control of something)
  • I was breastfeeding up until I was 8 weeks pregnant.  I had no burny stabby nips until about a month after Bubs was weaned.  A perk to breastfeeding while pregnant I guess?  Weaning, by the way, was fine for the first two days, then I felt like I was hit by a truck for about 3 days, then I felt better.  No idea.  Bubs took to weaning just fine.
  • BBT charting was showing that my body kept trying to ovulate and just took a few days to get there, even after the fertile cm disappeared.  So every dip in temps resulted in a bonk, even if I thought perhaps ovulation had already happened. 
  • No puking again, but nausea was pretty rough, and it is still hanging around a few times a week.
  • My midwife (same as before) is 6 weeks more pregnant than I am...if I make it to 34 and she goes to 40, we could have our babies at roughly the same time.  I find this amusing.
  • No bleeding this time (yet) and my blood pressures are on their way down towards mid pregnancy.
  • I am on 100mg aspirin and calcium supplements.  I have a doc and a midwife.
  • One and only beta draw at 12dpo was rather high (500+) and I was freaked out about twins for awhile.  No twins, only one Bubs.  
  • Every beer I have ever had in my life is on display- I look heaps more pregnant than I am but it is all jiggly beer belly.  I am still in non-maternity clothes somehow and I have only gained 2kgs (about 5lbs).  I don't know how this is possible.  *I have been stone cold sober since before conception- part of the calorie cutting.  I miss beer.  
  • I suspect this is actually my uterus getting excited and wanting another chance to try to kill me again. 

Monday, 30 May 2016

lunch time update

Just a quick update while Bubs finishes up her lunch (she is feeding herself all of a sudden- banana and toasted sandwich fingers will soon be on the floor).

I am not preggers.  Totally convinced myself that I was.  7dpo- implantation dip, 8dpo- start of triphasic pattern, 9dpo- odd one of low temp, 10dpo- another low temp and wtf is that??  My period???  WTF?  I have a 14 day luteal phase.  Sometimes 13 days.  Apparently not this time round.  Although the bleeding cleared at 12dpo, it started up again the next day.  So the burny nips and nausea I had must have been in my head as there was nary a faint line to be seen on any of the 3 FRERS I peed on.  Well, I swore I saw a line, but honestly, I am pretty sure I didn't. 

In other news, my Bubs Diet is working.  That is when you pretty much only eat what the toddler refuses during the day, and just a small breakfast and dinner (whatever can be eaten in the time it takes Bubs to empty her sippy cup and dump her food on the floor and decide she is done).  I am down about 6 kilos.  So yay. 

Today I am going to quit my job.  Double yay!  I don't do much, and I want to do even less, and it has been stressing me out and causing undue anxiety so I am done.  Just gotta go tell the boss. 

Lunch is finished.  Ta ta for now. 

Wednesday, 18 May 2016

Where we are at

I am debating whether or not to stop blogging.  I always envisioned taking this blog more seriously, posting thoughtful, well written posts, but I just can't be bothered, and I honestly don't have that much time.  Maybe one day in the future I will pick up and do a parenting blog.  Probably not, but maybe.  In the meantime I will just post here every now and again with a quick update, until I am ready to completely stop.

The bubs in nearly one!!  She has 3 chompers, crawls and pulls her self up, and also is a bit feral.  Seriously.  This child growls.  We call her Beezlebub (I need an old priest and a young priest!).  But it replaced the screeching, so I will take it for the sake of my ears.  She also head bunts things she likes, as a cat does.  I think this started because I used to give her eskimo kisses and nuzzles, so I think her version is a head bunt.  Either that or she thinks she is a cat.  She likes bath time, family feud (the NZ version- it is on before the news), toast (especially if it is mine), yogurt, the cats and all cat like things and pulling grass up from the ground.  She hates any food I try to feed her, feeding herself, when her rolly turtle flips on his side, the 5 minutes she has to wait for me to get breakfast ready (even though she will only eat a few bites) and nappy changes (she goes into a crocodile death roll and I try not to get poo everywhere).  The thing I am loving most right now is how much she looks like a frog when she is crawling about the house, and peeking at her around furniture.  She loves peek-a-boo.

TTC #2.  We are 7dpo.  Could be an implantation dip on the chart (if the temp goes up tomorrow that is), but I don't have much hope for this cycle- our timing was off due to a trip and a teething bubs.  Before my delayed ovulation I was feeling confident, just like when we first started trying for Bubs way back when.  But no peeing on sticks, no obsessing for me this time around, because the Bubs in on the march and playing with her toys one minute, trying to get into the rubbish the next.  Of course, I say that now at 7dpo...lets see how I feel about it in 4 days or so. 

So here is a cute pic of my Bubs.

Wednesday, 20 April 2016

Double Whammy

A few weeks ago I was at the grocery store checkout when this happened:

Old lady clerk (bagging my groceries): "She is so cute.  How old is she?"

Me: "ten months."

Old lady: "So are you pregnant again?"

Me (shocked and sheepishly looking at my belly which has grown suspiciously large due to choclate and beer): "No!"

A few moments later
Old lady: "She has such long eyelashes.  Where does she get those from?"

Me: <points to own obviously long eyelashes, resists urge to smack the old lady)


Tuesday, 8 March 2016

Back on the horse? Soon...

So I think I have convinced the Moose that we need to have a second bubby.

I think his concerns were part financial, part my health, and part "oh my god how can we handle two?".  All of which are valid.

How did I convince him?  I have no fricken clue.  I mentioned it a few times.  I thought I was going to have to work at it hard and was just laying groundwork.

So here is the plan.

I am off the mini-pill.  I went off it because I couldn't remember to take them at the same time and kept getting my period every second week, and ain't nobody got time for that shit (or money for tampons).  We are still using condoms and will continue to do so.  I will start charting again as soon as I can remember to do it in the mornings.  I will try to lose some weight and work on my kegels like mad.

Once Bubs is one year old (in 3 months!!!), hopefully we will start weening her off the boob.  At that time we will cease using condoms.  If I am charting, we will chart.  If not, I think we will just do a not preventing not trying but sort of trying to get the timing right. 

I am pretty sure I will be able to get pregnant again.  After all, charting my fertility (and peeing on lots of sticks at 9dpo, 10dpo, 11dpo, etc) revealed I was getting pregnant and losing them early.  So statistically I will have a good chance of a few more early losses and that will suck, but I will be sure to get to the doc each time and push for some repeat pregnancy loss testing.  With a little luck we will be up the duff by the time Bubs is 18 months.  **I was told by most midwives to wait 18 months before trying, by a doctor and a midwife or two to wait 12 months, and by another doc to wait 6 months.  And she was the older more experienced doctor!!  I figured I would take the middle road, given my age and the Moose's, and the fact that it did take us two years to get a sticky bub. 

If it doesn't happen because we either never get up the duff, or if we have too many losses (number I can handle yet to be determined), then we are shit out of luck.  We won't qualify for publicly funded fertility treatments, and we won't be willing to dig deep into the pocket book (which we might have done if we hadn't had Bubs).  So in that case it is one and done.

This is going to sound stupid and pessimistic, but I know if I get pregnant again I will get pre-eclampsia again.  It is just an irrational feeling I have.  Hopefully I don't get it and I am wrong.  What I am banking on is that pre-eclampsia in a second pregnancy tends to happen later and be less severe.  Bubs was born at 32 weeks.  If the next one hangs on to 34, or better yet 36 or later, that would be great!  Anecdotally speaking, the sister of a friend had her first at 34 weeks, her second at 36 and her third basically full term, pre-eclampsia in each even with an aspirin regime.

I am willfully forgetting all the anxiety of my pregnancy with Bubs.  Will it return in a second one?  I think so.  I just think I would be so busy with Bubs I might not have too much time to think about it.  And I have already googled everything pre-eclampsia related, so that's done.  Pre-eclampsia aside, I had a really easy time with Bubs.  Which I think means if I do get preggers again I will have to spend at least the first four months with my head in the loo.  And the next however many with roids.  I think it somehow balances the universe.

So I had intended to stop blogging, but since I might be back on the horse soon...maybe I will keep it going.  Maybe I will blog about trying to get up the duff again. 

Monday, 29 February 2016

Mind games

Reasons no longer being pregnant can sometimes be a mind-fuck (and still is 9 months later):
  1. I look more pregnant now that I did when I was pregnant.  My tum is rather gravity defying too (but definitely more slouch-y than when I was preggers).
  2. My sense of smell is still insane.  Someone lit a cigarette on the other side of town?  I can smell it.  Hold bubs, I can smell you on her clothes for hours.  I can smell Bubs' solid foods long after she has eaten them (I suspect on my nips from her post-solid breast feed).
  3. Gag.  Gaggy gag gag gag.  Foods I used to like I can no longer eat.  Goodbye Jimmy's pies. 
  4. What the hell was that?  Is this gas?  Are we sure there isn't something in here?  What the hell did they do to my insides to make them feel all fluttery and kick-like?  Seriously two or three days after Bubs was evicted there were ghost kicks going on down there.  And from time to time, I still feel them.  My uterus is haunted.
  5. I waddle.  Ok, that has to do with weight gain and time spent on the floor playing with Bubs.  I can fix this.
  6. I leak pee.  Yup, still working on those kegels.  Also, this is totally not fair because I delivered at 32 weeks the size of a baby at 28 weeks via the sunroof.  This means my ute has not really experienced a third trimester!!  Ergo what the fuck pelvic floor.  
  7. Where is my mind?  Serious baby brain is not so different from pregnancy brain.  The other day I got all confused when we got a note from the vet saying Toffs was due for her annual check up.  Because she gets those early in the year, not at the end of the year.  Because clearly February is the end of the year.  Ugh.  There have been others.  Oh so many others.  
As hilarious as it would be to go from infertile to sub-fertile to "I didn't know I was pregnant", I have peed on sticks (snowy white), I get my period regularly and have since 7 weeks postpartum.  I can count on two hands the number of post-bubs bonks, of which protection was used and timing was likely off.  Maybe I am a weirdo, but there have been many times when I have thought to myself, "Am I?". 

*I am not.

Sunday, 28 February 2016

Sleeping like a baby

I have a huge problem with the expression "sleep like a baby".  It is supposed to mean sleeping soundly, oblivious to the world, all peaceful expressions and loveliness. 

(Just after typing the above, Bubs woke up.  Half an hour after she had been put to bed.)

Bubs sleeps a total of 11 hours in any 24 hour period, on average.  If she naps for 1 hour, there will be 10 hours of sleep overnight.  If she naps for 3 hours, there will be 8 hours of sleep.  We are up anytime between 6 and 8 am, often nap for half an hour in the morning, and then have an afternoon nap of 1-3 hours after lunch.  No napping is allowed after 4:30pm, except 10 minute cat naps at the boob if she is really really grumpy (doesn't happen often and I don't count it as part of her daily total).  Then we have a bath at 8:30, then a feed to sleep and she is in her cot by 9:30.  Almost every night she wakes up 30 minutes to an hour after going to sleep.  Sometimes I can resettle her by touch, but most of the time it is a quick feed back to sleep.  She wakes at least once overnight, anytime from 1am to 5am.  I change her, feed her, and try to resettle her into her cot.  When that doesn't work (and it usually doesn't), she comes into bed with me and punches me in the face for a good half an hour before she finally goes back to sleep.  Waking up in the morning takes I think about an hour of being awake a few minutes and falling back asleep for maybe 5 minutes and repeating that over and over.  I do count that as a part of her 11 hours of sleep.

I started writing all this stuff down awhile back because I was concerned about how much sleep she wasn't doing.  I mean, babies her age should be sleeping something like 14-16 hours?  Something like that.  I don't remember and I am not willing to look it up. 

My goals for her are to go to sleep without being fed to sleep, and to sleep full time (or nearly full time) in her cot.  And take her naps in the cot.  And for me to go back to sleeping with the Moose instead of on a bed in Bubs' room.  I have done very little to get to those goals as of yet.  I don't have much of a plan, and kind of want her to take the lead.  We both nap on the couch, and even though I have things to do, I would prefer to nap in all my drool-ly glory than actually accomplish something.  And with harvest coming up, it will be less disruptive to the Moose if I am in the same room as Bubs.  And I could maybe resettle her in the cot every time but it would involve a lot of back and forth with feeding and standing over the cot trying to resettle her.  Mostly I would rather get punched in the face for half an hour in my warm bed.

I tried a little bit of sleep training, but I honestly don't think it will work for us.  She cried for so long she could hardly breathe and sobbed for ages after that, even when sleeping.  I don't want to do that to her, and I don't want to do that to myself.  I was really upset about it, I think because I sort of thought sleep training would be like the holy grail of getting her to sleep the way I want her to.  That it would answer all my wishes/goals.  It stressed me out to no end.

Then a week ago (maybe two?) I stopped worrying about it.  I figure the important part is that she gets the sleep she seems to need, and I think she does.  I think 11 hours are all she needs.  She is not a cranky overtired bubby.  A lot of what I deem her being grumpy is actually her getting bored or frustrated with a toy (or her getting annoyed that I haven't noticed the sneak poo she did half an hour ago and is now plastered to bum and nappy).  I am getting enough sleep at the moment, and I know that teething and the inevitable colds/flu/bugs going around will shake that up and put me back at sleep deprivation.  And it is ok.  It won't last. 

It seems like most the blogs I follow with babies close to bubs age have had sleep problems as well.  It does make me feel better knowing others are suffering too <evil grin>.  And hey, we were lucky.  Bubs slept like a champ for her first 4 or 5 months or so.  I used to have set my alarm to make sure she was up for her feeds.  And we still are lucky in that when she wakes up in the middle of the night she is happy and she doesn't cry.  Many times she resettles quickly and we are usually up only half an hour, maybe an hour, in the middle of the night. 

But I think I will still want to punch the person who says that someone "sleeps like a baby" in the face.  Unless of course, they use it to mean sleep like a real baby.  You know, not at all. 

Tuesday, 23 February 2016

Quick pics because Bubs is awake again

Just a few quick pics.  And for the record, Cleo doesn't go into the crib when Bubs is in there.  I allow her to sleep there during the day, with a blanket down, but she has no interest in even going into Bub's room at night.  The photo above was staged. 

Saturday, 20 February 2016


It has been awhile.

Things were a bit rough here, but I think they are getting better.  I will get into that later.  First the good stuff.

So a (not so) quick update on the Bubs.
  • She will be 9 months next week and is up to 13 1/2 lbs!  She is in percentiles.  Like for her actual age.  Just touching the bottom, but still.  Actually, she was there last well child appointment, which must have been in December or late November, but I don't think I mentioned that.
  • She can sit on her own but not for too long without crashing.  This is usually followed by crying.  She still hates tummy time.  I am doing everything I can think of to make it more enjoyable for her, but she just gets fed up and rolls over onto her back and cries, or gets stuck on her tummy and cries.  She gets visits from a physiotherapist to check on her development, and at the moment there are no concerns.  She isn't hitting milestones early, but she isn't expected to.
  • She is eating solid food now.  She frequently makes a face indicating it is the most awful thing to ever get put in her mouth, but she eventually relaxes and even enjoys it.  Or makes these feral noises at me indicating she is bored.  Then I have to sing to her.  Dinner theatre. 
  • She is very serious around 99% of all people on the planet (excepting myself and the Moose of course), but yesterday she smiled at a stranger going to the neighbor's house, and without the lady even talking to her or looking at her for that matter.  She has a hilarious set of laughs.  One is like a squack-y bird, another is a Beavis and Butthead sort of he-he he-he he-he and another is a cute little Muttley laugh.  Things that make her laugh- shadow puppets, her daddy making a monkey sound, the washing the dishes song, any sneeze or hiccup done by someone other than her and games of peek (like peekaboo but without the aboo and done in a very high pitch voice).
  • She loves her jolly jumper, being upright, playing with her spoons, my water bottle (the cap is too tight for her to get off- I can't even do it half the time so no fear of choking on it), the cats, and kicking and splashing in the bath.
  • Sleep.  She hates it.  HATES IT.  I have been very reluctantly co-sleeping for awhile now because it is the only way I can get more than 2 hours in a row.  Our routines are all over the show and my attempts to stick to them get completely overturned by this little sleep-hating demon child.  We do bath, breast feed to sleep, put in cot, wake up instantly, feed again to sleep, put in cot, sleep one hour, wake up, cuddle or feed to sleep, put in cot, sleep 2-3 hours (until 2 am give or take 30 minutes), feed to sleep, put in cot, wake up instantly, throw hands in air and co-sleep and hope I don't smother her or lose her in the pillows.  Every night.  Basically she sleeps 7-8 hours and that time includes being up for any feeds over night.  Naps aren't much better.  They range from one hour to three hours and are generally taken after a feed on the couch.  I then pass out next to her until she wakes up (lately she has had unsettled naps where she is up every 10-20 minutes).  I have tried sleep training- she screamed until she could hardly breathe and sobbed for over an hour after I caved and fed her to sleep.  Sleep training does not work for us.  In fact, I don't think anything will work for us.  We are doomed to this sleep routine.  I need a time machine so I can go back in time and kick my past self in the ass for always feeding her to sleep.  On the bright side, I am not alone.  Every blogger I follow with a baby around Bub's age is having the same sort of problems.  Therefore I conclude it has nothing to do with me or our bedtime routine and has everything to do with the fact that babies do not want us to sleep.  When Bubs is a teenager and wants to sleep in all the time, guess who is going to be getting sweet revenge??  That's right.  This girl.
  • As revenge is a dish best served upon teenagers, when Bubs reaches that age and her friends come around and they decide to go somewhere, I am going to throw myself at her and start screaming.  In fact, I think I will do it every time she goes to the loo or otherwise moves out of my line of sight.  Or maybe just moves more than a foot away.  
 Other things:
  • The cats are doing fine.  They are getting used to Bubs although they are not overly drawn to her.  Every time she starts to cry or fuss loudly Toffs leaves the house.  Cleo doesn't care and will tolerate Bubs "petting" her but she doesn't approach her.  Cleo sleeps in her cot but only during the day when Bubs isn't in there, and Toffs hasn't ventured into it yet.  
  • Work is frustrating, but I am still just working part time from home and even then I tend to shirk my duties a bit more than I should.  I am just over it I guess.  Ugh.  The plan is still for me to go back to work when Bubs turns 2, but money is getting tight.  We pay off the mortgage in July and that should ease things up for us a bit.  However we are thinking about moving though to a house with a bigger section which would most likely mean taking out a new albeit small mortgage.  It would be nice to have space for Bubs to run around and play outside.  

The struggles.
   First of all sleep.  For awhile I was lucky to be getting four hours a night.  We went through a phase where Bubs was up every 2 hours for anywhere from half an hour to just over an hour.  That was rough.  She can't seem to resettle herself very often, and is suddenly wide awake with a really cheeky smile ready to play.  Not fun at 2 am and again at 4 am and again at 6 am when I finally give up on the thought of getting any sleep.  Oh yeah, and this is after fighting bedtime and staying up until 11 or even sometimes midnight.  Anyway, she seems to be doing a little better now but the lack of sleep has been taking a toll on me.  And a month ago I hit a patch of insomnia and that made everything hideous.
   I've been so tired I can't concentrate, I can barely function, and I have little to no patience.  There have been nights when I have wanted to put my head through the wall.  Nights when I just cry because she won't sleep.  I was concerned for awhile that I might be developing some depression issues, but then things got better.  It is something I still watch out for and if things get bad I will go see my doc.  Sometimes it is hard to tell between what is normal day to day stuff and what is more serious.  Right now I am mostly good, and the bad days I have are fewer.  I think things are getting better.
   Which brings me to the Moose.  I know he is working hard to support us, but there have been days when I just want to smack him one or give him a good yell.  Days when he comes home and falls asleep on the sofa, leaving me to cook and entertain an inevitably grumpy bubby.  Days when it seems he would rather spend hours on his kindle than any time with his daughter.  I get that he needs to unwind and relax after a hard day at work, and it is a hard day's work in the vineyards, but I always feel like I owe him one when I ask for help, and I have started to resent that, and to resent him.  There have been days when I wonder if our marriage will survive this.  I think it will, but during those times, I really do wonder.  And...
   By the time we came back from the NICU (6 weeks after Bubs was born) I was ready to resume sexy times (I was on the pill).  For whatever reason, the Moose wasn't.  I took that rejection a bit hard I think, and in turn all sexy times have pretty much come to an end except an obligatory once a month bonk (once every 6 weeks??).  It sucks.  So...
   Because I am sleep deprived and stressed, I have been binge eating again.  My exercises and daily walks have dwindled away.  I have put on more weight, none of my clothes fit right, and I am tired and sore all the time.  I hate it.  Which makes me feel like a whale.  Which puts me out of the mood for sexy times and makes me more resentful towards the Moose, which makes me want to bake a cake and eat half of it.  Arg.
   But things are getting better.  The Moose is getting better at helping out, I am getting better at not bitching at him, Bubs is...well...not getting better with sleep and teething must be just around the corner so that will be fun, but it won't last forever.  That has become my new mantra really.  It is just a phase.  All babies do this sort of stuff.  It won't last forever.  One day you will get to sleep again.
   I went off the pill.  I had to.  I couldn't remember to take the damned thing and since it was the mini-pill every time I forgot to take it I got my damned period.  And I am still bitter about getting it 7 weeks postpartum while exclusively breast feeding.  Anyway, with the lack of much physical intimacy and a few ancient but not yet expired condoms, we have so far been avoiding any possible baby making sex.  The Moose doesn't want a second child.  He hasn't said it, but I am pretty sure that is the case.  I (mostly) want a second child.  And if we are going to have a second child, I want to start trying when Bubs turns one year old.  There are some issues there and I was going to write about it, but I have now wasted about 2 hours when I could have been sleeping or having a shower and I know I will regret it tomorrow.  So I will save that one for another day.

I just want to say that while this has been the hardest thing I have ever done, it has been completely worth it and I do not regret it nor would I change a thing.  The above ranting and rambling was to de-clutter my muddled brain.  Things may have been rough the past few months, but we are coping and we will get through this phase.  

Wednesday, 13 January 2016

Happy New Year blah blah going to sleep now bye

I have three posts that I am writing in my head and just can't seem to get around to writing.  Not doing it now because sleep.  But they are coming.  Soon.  I hope. 

Meanwhile here is a cute Bubs from the past few months.

My Halloween Octo-bubby.  I spent ages making those tentacles out of cut up pants that no longer fit.

 Christmas Bubs...

And finally the "not so keen on selfies" Bubs from a hike with her mama.

Ok...sleep now for me.  Adios.