my-speck

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

You're twelve weeks old September 11, 2009

Filed under: baby stuff,baby's feelings,development stages,Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 11:04 am
Tags: , , , ,

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:

  • learned to look at us and interact with your eyes (you can now beat me in a staring competition and you sure are expressive with your eyes)
  • learned to smile and giggle and laugh with people who are talking to you
  • learned to use your hands – putting them in your mouth and staring at them close-up to your face, starting to grab things and hold on (only just)
  • learned to hold your head up when you’re in tummy time and look around – you’ve got much stronger than when you first came home from hospital
  • learned to practice talking. You’re not quite babbling yet, but you’re almost there – lots of ohhh, ahh noices. Your current nickname (from your dad and I) is “Apu”. We’re thinking of it being your second name.
  • learned to put yourself to sleep. Now this one is pretty good. I’m proud of you for this. When you”re tired, as long as you’re not overtired, we can pop you down in your cot, maybe slightly swaddled, and you’ll go to sleep by yourself, quite happily. WHen you’re overtired, nothing works but putting you in the sling and bouncing you around for 5 minutes. And listening to a bit of screaming in the meantime.
  • learned how to breastfeed MUCH better than when you started. Ahh.. And the best – you’re good at it lying down too.
  • learned what being scared is like (at the football)
  • learned how to listen to stories being read to you
  • learned how to poke your tongue out at me (imitating me poking mine at you)
  • and grown out of three sizes of clothing (you’re now a size 00 – been through 00000, 0000 and 000).
  • … the list goes on …
  • and finally this week you’ve learned what it is like to get diarrohea (and mum has learned how many nappies it is possible to go through in one day. Hundreds. By the way the doctor thinks maybe the diarrohea is from your Rota virus vaccination, but you’re otherwise ok in that you’re not dehydrated, your temperature is normal so its all good).

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!

Me and You Today - 11 weeks 6 days. Gee you're big!

 

44000 people all yelling at once is just a bit too loud and scary for a little baby (and you are still a little baby, I just forget that) September 6, 2009

Filed under: emotion,Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 10:59 am
Tags: , , , , , , ,

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):

  • its the first home final for our local team in a number of years (finals season games have that little bit more fervour, don’t they – i.e. the crowd is going to be BIG BIG BIG and ROWDY ROWDY ROWDY); and
  • we were sitting in the open section (not in the alcohol-free members area we’ve been in the last games we went to); and
  • you’re only twelve weeks old!; and
  • I just plain forgot that the noise at a football game really goes from nothing to a huge roar in just seconds.

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.

 

Playing with Mr Finklebottom September 2, 2009

Filed under: baby stuff,baby's feelings,Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 6:53 pm
Tags: ,

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).

poogie and finkelbottom

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

 

Penis rules. We have all of this in front of us… August 29, 2009

Filed under: development stages,Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 4:04 pm
Tags: , , , ,

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:

  • slamming the penis between two kitchen cupboard doors while swinging on them.  Ow!
  • playing with the penis in public spots and places like the living room to the consternation of more conservative relatives.  Institution of the ‘only in room and bathroom’ rule.  Subsequent observation of vigorous hand action under a pillow while on the couch.
  • getting the penis somehow caught in a Thomas the Tank Engine battery-operated train and it somehow getting threaded through the rolling mechanism.  This apparently required total destruction of the Thomas the Tank Engine engine by two people to extricate the said squished willy.  Ouch.
  • using the penis as an exploding hose as someone laughed once when this was done by mistake.   I.e. holding the hand over the end of the penis while weeing.  In the living room.  (large clean-up).   Unfortunately it became a party trick very quickly.
  • lots of incidents of foreskin getting stuck and needing medical attention to get it put back in the right spot…. ahh
  • loving a brother’s penis

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:

  1. You can only play with your penis when you are alone in your room.
  2. You are not allowed to play with someone else€™s penis.
  3. You must have pants on to go out front.
  4. 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

 

slinging to the beat of the washing August 27, 2009

Filed under: family,Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 6:10 pm
Tags: , , ,

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!

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

 

Today i have… done so much before 9am. This mum stuff is hard work. August 26, 2009

Filed under: exercise,family,Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 10:28 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Today I’ve

  • fed you at 3:30 am
  • fed you at 5:30 am
  • said goodbye to your dad as he left the bed to sleep somewhere else ’cause you’re such a noisy eater at 5:35 am
  • been vomited on in bed by you at 6:38 am
  • attempted to mop-up the vomit in the bed, on me, and on you at 6:39 am (you kept sleeping)
  • vaguely thought, “oh shit, I only washed the sheets, the undersheet, the duvet cover and aired the duvet yesterday, great timing!” at 6:40 am as I drifted back to sleep
  • been woken by your thrashing arms against my face at 7:08 am (you kept sleeping)
  • said goodbye to your dad at 7:24 am as he left the house
  • tried to get back to sleep at 7:25 am
  • worked out that you had woken up and were wide-eyed at 7:27 am
  • tried to ignore the fact it was morning at 7:28 am
  • conceded at 7:36 am that your grunting, exertion and ‘poo-face’ facial expression was consistent with the fact you were actually pooing.
  • calculated at 7:36 am that you hadn’t pooed for at least 48 hours
  • determined at 7:36 am that immediate evasive action was required unless I wanted a pooey and vomity bed.
  • lost track of time
  • moved you to the bathroom, removed your nappy and assisted you to complete the poo in the bathroom sink in an EC-style manner.
  • laughed as you concentrated and stared intently at yourself in the mirror as you finished pooing
  • complimented myself on my fortuitous movement of your bum back over the sink after I thought you’d finished.  Was amazed at the amount of poo one small baby can contain.
  • gave you a quick bath in the sink
  • took the nappy bucket down to the laundry
  • scrubbed your pooey nappy from this morning
  • put on two loads of laundry – your nappies and your clothes
  • had a play and a chat with you on the floor.
  • assembled my bike and the bike trainer on the back deck (having brought the bike up to the back deck three days ago and the trainer up yesterday). Step 3 complete!

    • my bike set-up and your rocker... We're feeding as I take this..

  • located my bike cleats (in the very back of the closet – who would have thought)
  • cycled for 12 minutes (woo hoo! exercise – ahoy) while simultaneously coo-ing to you to keep you calm (as you were feeling abandoned from the look on your face)
  • toasted a muffin and got some juice and managed to wolf it down

    • you and me. you're getting your fill

  • fed you again at 8:50 am while simultaneously reading my email

Gee its busy being a mum

love your attempting to get back into regular exercise mum

ps. oh, and I wrote this post at the end of the feed and its now only 9:06 am.

 

One day at a time… And one thing a day. (and gee its HOT!) August 24, 2009

Filed under: Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 4:41 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

Hello Poogie!

Its hot hot hot and you're just in a nappy

Its hot hot hot and you’re just in a nappy

Well.  According to the Bureau of Meteorology’s great website, its 31.8 degrees celcius today.  Which is totally unseasonally hot weather.  Its still August, so in theory we are in winter.  I don’t think I remember a winter day in August in my lifetime when it was over 30 degrees. You are sweating, as am I. I’ve been trying to drink lots of water. I think I’ve gone through at least 2.3 litres already, and its only 3pm. You’re not so happy. Just a little grumpy. I’ve got you dressed in just a nappy, and at present you’re asleep on our bed. You had a HUGE scream for about 20 minutes earlier today, unlike anything heard before. Mostly in your dad’s ear. He jiggled you about and tried a number of things to calm you. You’re generally such a placid little happy person, it was quite distressing to see you scream to the bottom of your lungs for 20 minutes. And it hurt the ears. After a cool bath, a change of nappy and some jiggling you finally decided that you did want some food and so you got a breastfeed, which seemed to calm you down. As I fed you I watched the colour in you drain from beet-red down to a milder pink then normal looking. I think it was a combination of the screaming and the heat that had got you so red. And I nearly panicked, but managed to remember to just chill, take your temperature to ensure you were ok (you were a normal temperature) and just make sure I kept calm…

my baby-mum lesson of the week

So. I wanted to let you know a lesson I’ve learnt and do need to try to stick to – it just seems to help with your sleeping and feeding, and my sanity. First part is just to take things with you one day at a time. If I wake up and I don’t feel well, I’m tired or you seem cranky, its totally ok for me to just cancel any plans we might have and just relax. Which included leaving the dishes in the sink if needed. Yes, when you reach parenthood I’m sure the books you’ll read / advice you’ll be given will stress this, but it’s much harder to do than it sounds. I’m getting there. I don’t think your dad is quite on par with my need to do this some days, but my sanity needs it. Not every day, not even all that often, but when I do need to do this, I really need to. Something like a mental health day from work. Though I still have to look after you, just have a day when I try to do less. Unscheduled.

The next step is my having learnt a rule – only one thing / outing a day (apart from walks, they don’t always count). Again, much harder to do than it sounds. Its a big momentum change from not having a baby like you to look after. So harder ’cause its so foreign. I’ve found myself on some days thinking, “oh, I’ll just pop out and get x done too”… Hours later when we get home and I can’t collapse in a chair from exhaustion because I have to look after you and you’re cranky ’cause we did too much – I regret this decision. I’ve been a bit slower than I perhaps should have learning this lesson – I’m blaming it on my hormones and tiredness. But now I think I’ve got it. So. We plan a maximum of one outing a day now. Sometimes it could be one outing with two stops – today was mum’s learning group at the Child Health Clinic and then grocery shopping as the shops are next door to the clinic. But that is it. Now we are home and I’m washing and you’re sleeping and we won’t go out again.

So. I’m writing it down to convince myself that its a rule. ‘Cause every time I break it everything is harder. Yesterday it got broken, and I was exhausted and didn’t sleep so well. You weren’t too bad..

Off to drink some more water and make some more milk.

love your boobie mum

Its SERIOUSLY hot. And you're very serious..

Its SERIOUSLY hot. And you’re very serious..

 

Maternal Love Overload August 19, 2009

Filed under: baby stuff,baby's feelings,development stages,emotion,Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 12:32 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Hello Little Poogie,

YOU ARE SO CUTE.

Yes, I’m shouting.  Cause you are the cutest baby on the planet.  In my slightly, oh just slightly, biased opinion.

This is just a quick note to let you know that I haven’t been writing because I’ve been consumed by you.  You take up all my day.  It used to be just feeding and sleeping and washing and the like.  But now that you are awake more and practising talking noises, its playing, reading books, talking practice, discussing politics etc.   Well, I talk to you about politics.  That conversation is  a bit one-sided.  Goo-goo ga-ga is more your style.

Anyway.   I’m not sure what has happened, but in the last week or so something has definitely gone on with my hormones.  They have kicked in with a big shebang once again and just made me fall totally head-over-heels in love with you.  Crazily. Scarily.  OMG if someone does anything to you I will tear them limb from limb with my bare hands – slightly psycho-ly.

Just so you know.  This may well pass, but right now I’m all loved-up and you are the best.  Even when you do large explosive foamy disgusting smelling poos that leak out all through your clothing, your wrap, into your carseat, and seep down through the holes into the car.

poo!

poo!

No, I don’t like cleaning it up, but I still love you!

smiling and talking

smiling and talking

love mum

p.s. you are 8 weeks and four days old today.  And two months exactly tomorrow!

smiling!

smiling!

 

A-OK apart from a cracked ear.. just skin leakage August 10, 2009

Filed under: healthcare,Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 9:45 pm

Hello Poogie,

its all ok.  We have some cortisone cream and you’re going to live.  THe ear infection is not an ear infection at all but a painful and raw case of dry and probably mum-hormone related skin damage.

Not too much crying.  And the source of your irritability today has been established:  the sticky mess that came out your behind has made you feel a lot better.

erk for mum and dad though.  Your dad was on bum-clean duties, I did nappy scrubbing.  No dry-pailing for a mess like that.

love mum

 

Old MacDonald and smiling August 4, 2009

Filed under: development stages,Parenting,Raising a Child — rakster @ 4:29 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Hello Oscar!

Guess what – you’ve really started to smile in earnest now.  It started last week, with a few vague and tentative smiles at me and your dad, and now it has progressed to definite smiles, and yesterday I got a first giggle.   Your little dimples come out, and as you have a toothless grin you look adorable but at the same time there is a slightly scarily uncanny resemblance to The Joker.

So – what elicits a smile in a six-week old Oscar? Well, definitely booby. Yes, often when you’ve drifted off to sleep or just a 2-second cat-nap while feasting your little heart out on wholesome breastmilk, you just relax your head back and I get a huge “I’m blissed out and everything is wonderful” smile, often with a bit of nipple still in your mouth. Its kinda rewarding to know that you’re happy down there and I’m providing everything you could possibly need in terms of sustenance and nutrition, and not only that, you enjoy it!

Sometimes you just like to smile when you see your Dad and I or you’re trying to talk to us.

And the best way I’ve found so far to get a smile out of you is to sing “Old MacDonald had a farm”. Yes, lucky you! You definitely recognise the song now and smile when I start to sing the tune. Works a treat with the smiles too. Why do you recognise it? Well, its the only song/tune of a nursery rhyme/baby tune that I can actually remember at this point. So apart from the nonsensical babble songs I make up and sing to you, Old MacDonald is the staple. So its a good thing that you seem to like it. Though it is, I have to admit, starting to bore the crap out of me. There are only so many times you can sing it to yourself before you start to invent animals that couldn’t possibly be on old MacDonalds farm and try to do the noises. Depending on my level of tiredness, this either is a fun game to amuse myself with or just tiresome ’cause I realise how little I know about animals sounds and what a lot I have to learn as a mum in order to live up to the best Old MacDonald standard. The best effort I’ve done so far is Old MacDonald’s dinosaur farm, though past the teradactyl I’m not sure I got even an approximation of what other people might think dinosaurs sounded like.

And at this stage, regardless of what I do with the animals, you love the song. So I guess I’m on the right track…

So – on the to-do list.
1. Learn some more songs to sing to you. This might involve downloading some or something as I just can’t recall the tunes for any really. Oh, maybe Fuzzy Wuzzy was a Bear. But that is only 5 lines long and again will get boring pretty quickly!
2. Learn some more exciting farm animals so I can vary Old MacDonald a bit more.
3. Keep on singing to you. As I’ve told your dad, until you get to the age of like seven, I reckon you’re going to think my singing voice is like the best thing you’ve ever heard. As such a phenomenon hasn’t ever been seen before (i.e. someone thinking my singing voice is the best thing ever), I think I have to ‘milk-it’ for as much as I can get. Gotta be appreciated for something! So be prepared.

love and kisses (and smiles)
mum

P.S. Best way to get rid of a smile? Try to take a photo!