i'm pregnant and it's going to be a rollercoaster

We need a new kitchen. AKA Baby Climbing Alert. – Movie Monday February 22, 2010

Hello Poogie,

So. I made a plan to redo our kitchen at some point – it’s all open shelving. But I was kinda hoping I would have had a few more months. But no. Open shelving about 40 cm off the ground is of course prime target for a crawling baby who has learned to pull himself up in his cot this week. I turned around today and there you were: upright and enjoying yourself. The camera was beside me so I got it on film. I guess today’s adventure was just the start:

The end of the shelving in the video is all just books. But all the crockery, pots, pans and an assortment of other random stuff is out there in the open. Waiting for a marauding eight-month-old to pull it all down right on his head.

Righto. New kitchen planning commencing…


love mum


Bad parent of the day award. And the winner is… February 19, 2010

We have an award in our house: it’s the “Bad Parent of the Day”.

It started as a joke. Your dad had a quiet chat with me a few days after we came home from the hospital and he went to work which went along the lines that as I’m at home with ‘the baby’ all day every day then I’m the one who is most likely to be the responsible parent when ‘the baby’ does get injured. Accidental maybe, but we both knew it was going to be heartwrenching, and that was your dad’s way of telling me that he wasn’t going to be angry or upset or judgemental, just supportive. Because the odds were against me.

To be honest, I don’t even remember now what your first big mishap was. I should have blogged about it, because I know it was very real and scarey at the time, but now it has just melded into a conglomerate memory of the past few months, where some days you injure yourself, or I injure you (unintentionally and generally pretty minor so far, cross fingers) and some days nothing happens but you’re still grumpy and scream at times and I’m still lacking sleep so really ask me the next day what happened the day before and I’d be hard pressed. (Oh, and I still don’t come up for air when talking. Some things don’t change.)

So as the days meld into one another, we commemorate each mishap of bad parenting with our “Bad Parent of the Day” Award. I guess I do probably win it more than your dad, but considering I’m on more parenting duty, I think the balance on weighted means would be in his favour. Or disfavour depending on how you view it.

Today’s winner? Well, I can’t think of it. Maybe it hasn’t happened yet. Or, if you count letting your baby eat of the floor as a bad thing I probably shouldn’t have fed you the cucumber you dropped on the footpath in the Valley this morning, then Me. The footpaths there are not your average cleanliness, somewhat below… In the scheme of things, minor.

Three days ago? Me. You know about the whole carrot intolerancething? Well, I went to cook more food for you and found the freezer cubes we use to freeze your food in full: of chicken stew. So I dutifully emptied them all into the sink and then flushed them down the loo. Thinking all the while, “Gee, what a waste. It’s not the food that bothers me so much as the love and time your dad put into cooking it”. And it’s not like I’m ever going to cook you chicken stew (pescetarian avoiding meat cooking at all costs). So it was a bit special.

Dumb di dumb di dumb. Well, it turned out your Dad had already lovingly thrown out all the offensive carrot-containing stew, and cooked you a whole new batch. Which was exactly what I threw out. Mmm. Bad parent of the day award: Mum.

Love you boopie baby


Blowing Raspberries – Movie Monday February 15, 2010

Hello Poogie!

I’m going to try to put a movie up some/most mondays.  Movie Monday.

Today is one of your tricks: blowing raspberries.   You learnt this one a few weeks ago now.  I was astounded when you first started it – you frequently surprise me with your ability to learn new things and pick things up that I thought would take a lot longer.  We’ve been blowing raspberries on you since day one, so I guess it makes sense that you’d learn them straight-up.

I tried to get footage of you in your favourite raspberry-blowing position – in the bed with us.  But it just ended up a bit wrong – I’m not sure everyone wanted to see my boobs flash by the camera repeated times as I lurched up to pull you off where you’d climbed on the “mum climbing frame” as you attempted to get to better raspberry-blowing position.   So I’ve scrapped that video and gone for the “on the legs on the kitchen floor” version.  Much less the wrong-pornographic home-style and more of the family-blog style effect.

Love you



A carrot intolerance? …and I’m tired… February 14, 2010

Filed under: Parenting — rakster @ 2:19 pm
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Hello Little Poogie,

I’m tired. We’ve had a busy week. You definitely have a carrot allergy/intolerance. How we tested this? Your dad cooked you a chicken stew & forgetting about the previous carrot episode, put carrot in it. Innocous, you’d think. Well I guess I’m surprised.

Your reaction? Well, you loved the stew. Ate a HUGE bowl of it for breakfast on Friday morning. Slept, woke up a bit whingey and clingy and then bam. It hit. Vomit everywhere. Multiple times. It was heartbreaking to watch as you weren’t distressed by the vomiting itself, but as the hours passed and you were still vomiting you just got exhausted to the point where you couldn’t stay awake but couldn’t sleep either. I had to stay near you, so we lay in our bed where you continued to vomit everywhere. I tried to soak it up with towels, but it was voluminous. So it soaked through. Ce la vie.

You finally passed out and I put you in your cot for a rest but stayed in the room while you dozed and came in and out of sleep to retch more. It was worse than last time – I guess ’cause you ate so much stew. Bile it was. Again, I tried to give you a little breastmilk, but after the first time, where I only let you feed for one minute, you just didn’t have the energy.

“Here we go, a visit to the hospital coming up!” was just what I was thinking when finally in the late afternoon you seemed to look a little less green and managed to keep a minute of breastmilk down and manage a smile. I was almost sick with relief myself.

All in time for your dad to get home from work to you looking reasonably ok and me doing five loads of laundry and re-mopping the floors.

Since then your sleep has been more disrupted than normal and I’ve just had an afternoon nap as I’ve been up multiple times each night and am exhausted. Just bone weary.

You seem to have recovered (though I note that the stew seemed to come out both ends rather undigested).


Who would have thought: cooked carrot???

love mum


Bushwalking in the rain… February 10, 2010

Filed under: Parenting — rakster @ 8:14 pm

Hello Punchy,

Long time no write. We HAD A WEEKEND AWAY! And I left computers and all electronics at home.

We went up to a lovely holiday house in Springbrook, the hinterland above the Gold Coast.  It was a lovely weekend where it rained more than I can remember in my lifetime (something like 400+mm in one day) but we were cosy inside with a fire, except when we ventured out for a few short walks in the rain.  Which wasn’t too bad under the canopy of the rainforest.  You really enjoyed it.  It was fun to look across the valleys to all the waterfalls, which were of course in full flow.

Your first bushwalking: a good experience.

bushwalking ready

ready to bushwalk in the rain with the baby strapped on

Love you



Activities for children: The Laugh Your Ass Off (LYAO) Game February 4, 2010


Yep, that is me using another one of those finnicky acronyms that usually piss me off. But my mood is up and it can’t be diquieted with simple annoyances for the enjoyable things in life win-out.

Today’s pleasure: the LYAO (Laugh your ass off) game.

Again, a developmental milestone that is talked about in the baby books and literature is babies learning to laugh. You’ve definitely nailed it.

There was no way before I had you that I could have imagined the immense pleasure and pure hilarity of just sitting there on the floor with you on the bed, playing our Laugh Your Ass Off Game.

The funniest thing is, I end up in huge fits of belly-shaking convulsive for-real laughter too. Good for the soul.


I love you punchy.



Birth Story: “A Generation Ago” February 3, 2010

Hello Poogie ,

So.  The first Birth Story in the series is today’s reading.

This story is by your maternal Great Grandmother about your Grandma K joining the world.  So I guess now it is two generations ago, rather than one.   It’s very special to me and I’m really glad that my Grandma got to share it with us – it’s a sneak peek into birthing in the 1950’s.   Your Grandma was a very beautiful person, and someone who was always there for me during my childhood.  I’m crying as I write this as I still miss her (she died 17 or so years ago).   I really would have liked if you could have met her – you’ll have to imagine her based on my stories about her and some of the things she did leave me and I can share with you: a love of baking, reading (poetry collections) and going to the movies.


Birth Story Details:

where: hospital, Australia

when: 1952

who: birth of your Grandma K


A Generation Ago

At 7am on 30 May, 1952, I woke up with an uneasy sensation in the stomach.  My husband suggested that I rest in bed while he prepared breakfast.  As soon as the smell of bacon and eggs floated through the house, I felt nauseated and made a frantic dash to the toilet.  That was when the continuous pain set in – not the intermittent bouts I had been told to expect.  Breakfast forgotten, we took off for the hospital, foot well down on the accelerator all the way.  No relief from the thrusting pain at all.

By 7:40am I was admitted to the hospital where immediate preparations went into top gear. Although I didn’t realise it at the time, I was rushed into the public labour ward as the intermediate ward was filled to capacity.  As I was wheeled into the long room, I was horrified at the complete lack of privacy: only flimsy curtains separated the beds on which women lay in all stages of the birth process.  Some were groaning, some shrieking and a few for whom the ordeal was over smugly assured me how wonderful it was to have the birth all over.

My pain continued unabated while I had to endure that humiliating preparatory shaving and the putting on of those big white leggings that went right up to the top of the thigh.  When my legs were hoisted in the air, I was given that gas-mask to use when the pain became too agonising.  I tried desperately hard to avoid the use of this, but the continuing constant pain beat me a couple of times.  By the time my own doctor came on the scene, I was so exhausted that I felt I couldn’t stand any more of the unremitting pain.  In response to the sister’s urgings such as “You want your baby, don’t you? Try harder, harder!”, I made my last supreme effort and stayed conscious long enough to see my daughter held up in the air – and to hear one nurse exclaim, “What a shrimp!”.  I flaked out without producing the afterbirth; so that had to be removed by force without my active participation.  It was all over by 10:40am – not a bad effort for a thirty-eight-year-old woman producing her first child.

Because of a lack of beds in the wards, I was kept in the labour ward for the next five hours during which I witnessed births of all kinds and developed admiration for the hospital staff and the way they coped with so many different emergencies so competently.

I must admit, however, that I was more than pleased when a bed for me became vacant in one of the intermediate wards.

Footnote: When my husband came to see me in the afternoon, he complained rather bitterly of the bad headache he’d had all the morning!



Your first tooth. For real this time! February 2, 2010


Well baby, you got your first tooth for real today. Yes, I know I’ve blogged about your previous weird ‘tooth’

(which, incidentally is still there and a little weird, but I’ve just gotten used to ignoring it), but today, no mistaking it, a real tooth has emerged.

In the right spot: front and centre on the bottom row. So today you’re 7 (seven) months and one week old and it has emerged. Slightly slower than the average milestone date, I think, but right on cue according to Mayo Clinic.

You slept for HOURS this morning (I took your cue and had a sleep-in too – much needed as your waking in the night has had me a bit short of zzzz). And you are at it again now. SO – teething must be an energy-consuming ordeal. Not too much crying, just a bit clingy.

You bit my boobies when you were feeding yesterday and there was no tooth. Gee I hope you don’t do it too often from now on..

love mum

p.s. I tried to get a photo but it proved difficult…


p.p.s. JFARCA958Y42


Birth Stories – hopefully the start of a series… February 1, 2010

Today I’m getting around to another one of those not-a-new-years-resolution resolution: get there with the birth stories. Well, start the process anyhow.  Did you notice I was digging around in the storeroom the other day looking for a book? It’s all related.  I thought I’d start simply with a letter I wrote to some friends a month or more ago – but if you’re reading and you want to take part, drop me a comment… home birth book


As I think most of you know, I started blogging when I was pregnant & have continued on with my ramblings since then. One of the important posts that I haven’t got around to yet is finishing off the birth story post. I’ve almost got it down, I did most of it in the weeks after Poogie was born, but time is slipping away, and I want to get it out there. I’ve requested a dad version too, which is due before christmas sometime (husband read a book with dad’s versions of birth stories before Poogie was born to help with the birth preparation and found it really helpful). And I have an idea…

When I was a kid, my mother shared her experience having my sister R2, with our family, and had a home birth, which I watched. It’s still one of the best and most memorable experiences of my childhood. Perhaps another reason I remember it so clearly (apart from the event itself) was that soon after that my mum helped edit a book on birth stories. I wrote about my sister’s birth and did a picture, which was published, along with many other stories, in the book. My mum’s story of my birth and my sister’s birth, and my grandmother’s story about my mum’s birth was also published in the book. So. I had the idea before Poogie was born that it would be nice to publish not only his birth story, but republish those of others in my family at the same time, so they’re in one spot and celebrate us all. And, thinking about it further, I thought that it would be an idea to publish a few friends’ birth stories too – that is, if they wanted to share them.

So – here is my request to you. If you have a story (or two, or three) that you (or your partner or kids / family) would like to share, I’d love to be able to publish it on the blog. I’d be happy to do so. Just words, photos and words, anonymous, not-anonymous.. Whatever suits you best…

Love me

P.S. The book my mum worked on was about homebirth – but we’re interested in all types of births, babies or experiences 🙂