Hello Poogie!
You’re bored with me (not being able to pick you up and sling you about in our normal pattern). And I’m just simply bored.
On couch.
Elevated foot.
chilling with mum's broken ankle on the day bed
You learnt to suck your thumb today (as opposed to the previous efforts which was just whatever body part fit in at the time).
Bored mum.
Love you
Mum
poogie's first attempts at thumb sucking. Lets hope it doesn't last.
Hello Poogie,
Well. Today is Sunday. I’ve just given you a big feed and you are grunting away in your cot. We’re hoping you’ll have a sleep, but you seem to be resisting. I can’t come and get you as I’m lying on the day-bed, foot up on a pile of pillows. I have a big fat ankle underneath a leg that is in plaster. The ankle is now offically reconstructed. Despite wishing on Friday that I could go back and undo the decision to have it done, its all ok. I got the ankle operated on last Thursday, and we came home on Friday. Right now I can make it to the bathroom and managed to mostly shower myself this morning, but that is the extent of my mobility. I’ve got crutches which I’m still learning how to use (I’m giving myself gold stars for finally after three days having come up with a way of using them to get up from the toilet – that was tough before). So you’re relying on your dad for all assistance with moving and care. Apart from the feeding. You stilll come visit me for that. And you do come and play with me: sitting on my tum and doing some talking a few times a day.
So. Thursday went pretty well overall. You and your dad came in with me to the hospital at an ungodly hour in the morning, then we waited for hours as I was the last operation on the morning’s surgery list. You had a good feed and were happily sleeping in your pram when I got put into the wheelchair & wheeled off down into the basement of the hospital for the surgery. I was a bit nervous, but feeling ok about it. That was until I was sitting by myself in my wheelchair in the pre-op area when I heard the screams and cries of a small boy. I just lost it at that point and started bawling. Good timing as the anaethetist came to put in my canula at that point. She explained that where I was was connected to the recovery room, so the little boy was just waking up from having his adenoids out. And wanted his mum. It was horrible to listen to. I felt so sorry for the kid.
The surgery itself was fine. I had a spinal anasthesia so that I could breastfeed you straight away, so I was awake for the operation. I had a mild sedative to keep me calm and just chatted with the anaethetist and the anaethestic nurse while the surgeons did my ankle behind a sheet. While I was getting operated on, your dad took you for a walk outside. I had expressed some breastmilk for you and he had just taken you to your grandad’s office and was going to heat it up when the nurse called him to say I was back in my bed on the ward. So you came and found me and immediately had a great big feed and a cuddle.
you and me in the hospital right after I got back from surgery
You and your dad then stayed with me for the rest of the day, going home at around 7pm after I’d given you two huge night feeds. It was hard to see you go home with your dad: I’d not spent a night apart from you since you were born. I cried a little bit.
you and your dad going home at night... leaving me at the hospital. the view from my bed.
…
Your dad tells me that you were very well behaved at home. He gave you your nightly bath, then tried to give you another feed with some expressed breastmilk from a bottle. Apparently you looked very confused about the whole thing, especially when you tasted the milk from the bottle. And you weren’t really into it, I think you only managed a few sucks. But you slept right through the night as normal anyways. He got up after five in the morning and heated you some more breastmilk, and when you woke you were still a little confused by it all, but since you were hungry you had about 80ml. Enough to keep you going for a while.
I had a bit of a shocking night in the hospital myself, the lady in the bed beside me fell out of her bed at 10pm and there were nurses going back and forth for the next four hours. Then there were the normal checks every hour. I woke at 5 am with the sun. Ready to go home. I called your dad at 6:30 to check what time you were coming in, to see if I should express to empty my very full boobs. Thankfully, he was already getting ready, and you guys arrived at just after 7. Your Aunt Reeg brought you in while your dad went to park the car. I gave you a big feed and you seemed happy. A few hours later we were able to get out and go home. Yay. Me wobbling on my new crutches.
SO.. All in all, it worked out well. I was really nervous about the whole thing. It was a bit more difficult than expected as the hospital was really not very baby-friendly, and sharing a room with four people wasn’t great with you, but you were really well-behaved and so it was bearable. And most important, you and I are both ok.
you playing on my tum as I lie on the day-bed with my foot elevated. My cast in the background.
Since then you’ve been looked after by your Dad and Aunt R, and have been loving all the attention from family who have dropped by to see us. I think you’re a little grumpy at me for not picking you up or playing with you quite as much as normal (well, maybe confused rather than grumpy). But you’re generally still your smiling little self.
Love you
mum
ps. and you seemed to sense that I was upset in the hospital when I was in a bit of pain post-op, and you were so good about it. And again when we got some bad news on Friday. Big hugs. thank-you.
you love the attention! three aunts in attendance.
You know when someone screams like they are being murdered? Or are dying? Well, you’ve just done that almost non-stop for the past two hours. And I’m exhausted.
We have done two 25 minute walks. You have settled a little after each one. then woken. five minutes later. screaming again.
…..
you woke again and then had a screaming fit. a bit of a breastfeed. then some cuddling. you are now crying but just a little bit. I’ve put you in your cot. I just can’t carry you around anymore, and its not screaming now. Just a few little upset noises.
breathe. breathe. breathe.
I’m exhausted. Its 32 degrees or something like that. Walking around with a baby tied to me during the heat of the day wasn’t my idea of fun when I woke up this morning. But that’s what I’ve had to do.
You were fine this morning. In fact, you were hilarious. You had a whole 5 minute conversation with a visitor to the house which consisted of you laughing and giggling and talking.
aaaaah..
…
love mum
ps. got new togs yesterday in the post. I am going to go swimming this afternoon whether you like it or not. As many swims before next week’s operation as I can fit in. For then its no swimming for ages…
Hello Little Poogie Woogie,
Well. Last week was quiet but this week is busy. I got inspired at the end of last week and am madly trying to get things in order before I get operated on next week. So you and I are doing some mad organising. Still haven’t managed to move the stuff around the house into the new wardrobes, so the goal this week is to get that done so when your Aunt R arrives back in Australia next week (hooray – you’ll like her I’m sure), she has somewhere to sleep at our house so she can stay and help. At the moment there is nowhere for her as your Dad’s office is taking up one room and you take up another. You’re moving into your Dad’s home office for a bit so that she has somewhere to sleep!
What have you and I been up to apart from madly organising things? Well, we’re still doing our mummies and babies get togethers. Monday is coffee shop day with the women and babes that we were in the local health area classes with. Then Tuesdays we go to the hospital for post-natal exercise with C & baby Hamish. And the other mums. And then Wednesday this week we are catching up with the mums from antenatal classes. That’s a new thing. And then Thursday this week is our fortnightly catch-up with the local yoga-baby mums and babes. Which we’ve been doing for a couple of months now. Very enjoyable. So. Apologies for not having taken you to the State Library for the Rhymes and Reading session on a Thursday yet, but now its going to have to wait until I’m able to walk again. Let’s say January!
Righto. So. The weekend was quiet. It was still very dusty. We had a massive dust-storm come through last week. Wednesday. It was absolutely amazing. Like nothing I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. Apparently it was a one in 70-year event. Lets hope so. Red dust filled the sky and the fine silky red dirt permeated every crack and crevice of the house, the furniture, everything. We stayed indoors and closed all the doors and windows. You couldn’t see 100m – the houses on the next ridge were only just visible as an outline. Apparently lots of people got sick from inhaling it – joggers particularly (though I have to say – STUPID. Who runs when the dust is so thick in the air you can’t see 100m???). A smaller dust storm came through again on Saturday night. Apparently the dust blew all the way from the western desert area of NSW, right over to Sydney, then up the coast to Brisbane. A day later there was dust falling in New Zealand – it blew right across the Tasman. Climate change.
Duststorm over Sydney from Space
After being cooped up on Saturday night we took you for a big walk on Sunday. From our house, down to Southbank to the kid’s water park. Its fun just to sit there and watch all the kids run around with glee. Hundreds of kids, lots of water. Lots of fun. I think when you get older you’ll like that we live close to it. Lots of kids have to travel from a long way around to get to it. Anyway, we sat with you and you watched the other kids cavorting around, screaming and laughing as they ran in and out of the water jets. You got as far as dipping your feet in. Well, I dipped your feet in. You thought it was a bit cold, from the look on your face. But didn’t scream or cry. It was more of an, “mmm. that’s cold. I wonder why my mum is doing this to me? Maybe there is something in this that I’m not getting” kinda look.
You at the waterpark. 14 weeks old?
so. Life is busy busy busy. And you are growing like nothing I’ve ever seen before. At last check you were 6.3kg. I think. Next check today. I’m thinking you might have nearly doubled in size since you were born.
Love you.
mum
Hello Poogie Woogie,
give a boogie.
I just thought I’d let you know that the time is still flying by. Another week has passed. You’ve grown immensely again. This week you rolled over for the first time – from your front to your back (Thursday). Much to the delight of myself, J & J, who were visiting and cheering you on. I suspect you rolled just to be able to better see the cheerers – you haven’t managed to do it again. Though your dad and I have observed that you somehow seem to be able to inch your way across our bed until you are right in the middle when you’re put on the edge with us. We end up all squished to one side. And you can definitely turn from your back to your side, that has been happening for a while. Just not yet from back to stomach. But HOLD OFF. We’re happy that you’re immobile for the moment.
feeding the baby – week 12
This week we ventured out to the park a lot for a few mums’ group meetings. It is nice down in Orleigh Park at the moment – spring has sprung and there are some big trees in full bloom, the weather isn’t too hot yet, and its nice to watch the boats go by on the river. You seem to like staring up from the blanket into the leaves of a ginormous fig tree we sit under. And I enjoy being outside to. I’m not looking forward to the next few months of hot hot weather when it gets uncomfortable to do that.
On the news front – big change for you and me coming up. You know how I hurt my ankle when you were in my belly and need surgery? Well, the lack of ability to use the ankle really is an issue, I’m finding it hard to go up and down the back stairs, or any stairs really, when I’m carrying you. Its almost impossible now that you’re 6.5 kg (wow – so big already!) to grab you with one hand and use the other to support myself on the rail, taking one step at a time when going down. The deciding factor for me was last weekend when I went swimming in the sea and realised that I still can’t push off the sand when in water to support myself against a strong current. I need to be able to do that when we take you swimming in the sea when you’re a bit bigger.
So. Your Aunt R is coming back from Japan/Brazil, and she’s kindly agreed to help A LOT, and your dad’s business is just starting so he isn’t committed 100% 0f the time yet, so in three weeks time I’m going to bite the bullet, and get the chop, so to speak. I’m scared, and worried and scared and worried. I worry about the surgery, but mostly I worry about afterwards and not being able to care for you. I’ll be bed-bound for a week, then after that the next 3-4 weeks immobile in the house, then slowly starting to move with crutches after that but no weight bearing. After 10-12 weeks I’ll be able to start weight-bearing practice and getting physio to rehabilitate myself. Which all means that I’m not going to be able to care for you by myself. I won’t be able to walk, let alone pick you up.
The decision to do it now is based also on the fact that it will be nigh impossible to get this done once you are mobile. And I can’t put it off forever. I want to be able to take you on bushwalks, and jump from stone to stone in streams, and swim in the ocean. And run after you in games of chasey. Currently limited and unsafe on my instable ankle.
I’ve run out of time! youre shouting at me . can only type with one hand
love mum
ps. some photos from the last week
poogie in the red chair – week 13
poogie in new hat
poogie reading
mum, dad and poogie
fatso cow baby
boobie baby
P.P.S. Oh yeah, and your current nicknames are Stinky Baby, Poogie Woogie, Little Numpty and Apu.
Hello Poogie Woogie,
Well. Days are flying by and all I seem to do still is feed you, change you, get you to sleep (though you’re pretty good at that yourself, I must say – compliments). Repeat. Oh. That’s not true. We do lots of talking practice and read books and practice mouth movements in between too. But basically my whole day gets sucked up playing with you and looking after you. Its crazy. I knew it would be like this but at the same time its still very different from what I expected. The time is flying by but it isn’t at the same time. You’re 12 weeks old tomorrow.
So, what have you done in the first twelve weeks? So many things:
you sleeping this morning - 12 weeks old. In your normal 'arms-out' position
I had to count through the calender today to work out how many weeks old you were – for some reason I thought it was more like 14-15, but then I figured you weren’t quite 3 months yet, so I had to be wrong…
So. We’re down to Lismore with you for the night tonight, and then hopefully the beach with you tomorrow. I am going to have to find you a sun-safe suit to wear. Your Aunt R kindly gave you some excellent new swimmers that will hold everything in (like a tight wet-suit) and you have the gorgeous board shorts from A-M, so you’re good for swimming, but might need more for extra coverage during the day… And a new hat.
🙂
love you
mum
Me and You Today - 11 weeks 6 days. Gee you're big!
Hi Poogie,
Well. I’m writing to you this morning to let you know that I’m sorry. I feel terrible. In fact, last night I felt plagued with unassuageable guilt. Wracked with it. I’ve decided I don’t know if I want to be a mum anymore. Its too scary for me too – too much responsibility (and to this your dad says, “Too late”). And all because of the sight of your tiny little scared face. Petrified in fact.
To balance these strong and undeniably primal feelings I’m having – I look at your face this morning – and you are most definitely your smiling, happy, joyous little self. So no lasting damage to see.
So. What did I (and your Dad) do? Well, we attempted to take you to the football (AFL for those who know the Australian codes and are interested). Mmm… And we thought you’d be ok – nicely rugged up in a big sling on my or your dad’s chest, a short 20 minute walk to the grounds from our house with another friend. I was a bit worried about the length of time we’d be out at night, but figured you liked to sleep in the sling.
WHAT WAS I THINKING????!!
Not some of the obvious things (well, very obvious in retrospect):
And that was what scared you. It wasn’t the noise itself (you adjusted to that each time the roar lasted for a long time). It was the abruptness of the noise. And your dad thinks the primal or base nature of the noise. Suddenly.
In my life so far – one of the worst things I’ve ever seen was your little face last night. Just the look of absolute terror in your eyes as you pushed your head sideways into your dad’s chest in the sling, and gripped him around his chest monkey-style like you weren’t going to let go if it was the last thing you did. And your eyes looked like you thought it might be the last thing you did. And I couldn’t do anything about it. You gave a few yelp-like cries on some of the big roars and let it out verbally. The rest of the time however, you just looked dazed and amazed. So much bright light, so many faces and noises around you.
So, the quarters are long in AFL. I needed to use the bathroom desperately about 15 minutes into the first quarter, so I managed to squeeze out of our seats (the other issue being that we were pinned right in the middle of a stand with no close stairs and had to squeeze along a narrow row of 15 people to get out) and get to the bathroom. I was shaking. I was so upset with myself and not sure what to do with you. You stayed with your dad. That was a good move, as I managed to then have the next 15 minutes to watch the game from the stairwell, and because I couldn’t see your face I wasn’t so upset and managed to think. And decided that the option was easy and not a big deal – I’d just walk home with you and leave your dad & P at the game, and that you’d be fine. You weren’t howling, you weren’t hurt, you weren’t damaged. You just got a big shock. And you enjoyed some of it.
Quarter over, you dad brought you out of the stands to me, I strapped you on, and we went home. You were wired. So alert and awake and watchful. And happy. You wanted to talk and laugh and look and participate in everything on the way home, and wanted my attention and face-time when we got home. We got home in time for me to put you on my lap and have some great play time and talking time as I watched the delayed football on TV. And it was an amazing game, where our team (the Lions) made a final quarter comeback from 5 goals down to win.
You had a huge feed, seemed very content, and went down to sleep for the night after almost falling asleep on the boob. And you woke this morning and are still fine.
I’m sorry poogie.
Love you
mum
P.S. I wasn’t the only mum at the football with a baby. As I was walking towards the stairs to leave, another woman with a sling on came out of the back of one of the stands. We locked eyes, and I had to go and see how she was going. So I walked over and she walked to me. We said hi, and asked how old and looked at each-other’s babes. Me: “How old is your baby” (before I can see the face). Her: “One week”. SOOO TINY I realised as I saw her little baby’s screwed up face – womb-fresh and puckered but totally fully asleep at her chest in the sling. Then she said, “I’m just looking for somewhere to feed her, I’m hoping the ushers will let me have a seat back here somewhere”… Mm.. Me: “Good luck”… For some strange reason it reassured me that I wasn’t the worst and dumbest mum on the planet – which was where my self-esteem was at the time. It wasn’t just us that decided that the football was ok for a relatively small babe. But rest assured Poogie, I think it will be some years before we try to take you again 🙂 TV will do for now.
Hello Poogie,
Today was very busy. So now we’re having some play time with Mr Finklebottom (L named him a few weeks ago for you).
you and mr finklebottom
We’re singing a modified version of Mr Peter Rabbit (after your Aunt R sang it to you on the weekend and I remembered I know it too: another nursery rhyme)!
Love you
Mum
Dear Poogie,
I’ve just peed myself laughing (haven’t done enough kegels exercises yet following your birth – tut tut me) reading a story from another mum about her ‘penis rules’ for her boys. Which struck a chord with me particularly as I’ve had a number of conversations in the past week with other mums about their boys and their boys penises. Specifically, mishaps that involve the said appendages. They can and do frequently occur. Sadly for you, I’ve come to the conclusion that despite my best efforts I think I’m still going to laugh laugh laugh when you do injure it in strange ways, as is bound to happen. Which will make me a crap mum. But human.
Thinking about these things makes me realise that I have A LOT to learn about having a boy in the family. I have LOTS of sisters who I grew up with (they are quite a bit younger, so I saw the growing, the mishaps, misadventures & achievements). Your Aunts. But I only have two brothers, your uncles, and they are a lot younger than me. And I was living overseas much of the time when they were really small. To tell the truth, I’m a bit apprehensive about how the hell I’m going to manage with a boy. So to laugh about penis misadventures somewhat diffuses the tension for me. There – my poor justification for the future when I just can’t help myself but laugh at you…
So.. Stories this week about penis misadventures in small boys I’ve heard include:
What I don’t know yet is any personal stories from your Dad’s childhood. Grandma E – anything you want to let us know about to add to the collection???
So now I’m ready for the day you will inevitably injure your little penis (I mean that in the cute sense though really I should know better that to use that adjective anywhere near the word penis)
The outcome of all of this is going to be the start of ‘Penis Rules’ in our house.
Faemom‘s penis rules are:
- You can only play with your penis when you are alone in your room.
- You are not allowed to play with someone else€™s penis.
- You must have pants on to go out front.
- When in public, including the front yard, you may not take your penis out to show any one.
Which are all fair and good in terms of behaviour and decency… But what about safety. So can we think about adding
5. No naked penises near the kitchen cupboards
6. No playing with the train set with a bare penis
7. No using the penis as an exploding hose
8. No touching the foreskin ever
I guess it could go on forever, and won’t exclude all possibilities. So – here it is.
5. You are responsible for the safe conduct of your own penis.
A fundamental rule I think I’m going to have to learn as a mum. And I think a lasting one. In fact it seems to me to be applicable right through childhood, puberty and into adulthood. 🙂
Love you and your penis. Though not in a wrong way.
mum
Hello Oscar,
Today you’re good, good, good and I’m good, good, good too! We have had some fantastic news about your Grandad, and I’ve been beaming all afternoon. Yay, yay, yay. I don’t know that you quite understood what I explained to you as we walked down the street, but I think you got the fact that I was emotional and happy. You definitely understood when I was crying with joy, and then after that seemed to pick up on my good mood.
So, you’ve been eating lots and lots for the past few days. I think a combination of the heat of the past few days and perhaps another growth spurt.
And you helped me hang out the washing. You insisted on a change from the normal sling position, so I just stuck you in it forward instead of facing me, and you seemed pretty happy with the whole thing. You liked the feel of the different materials on your face as I pulled the clean washing in…
You in the new position - forward facing in the baby sling. You just wanted to help with the washing hanging-out!
Do pe doop doop (singing my happy song).
love mum
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