And The Forecast For Tomorrow Is...

Rain! Actually, not even rain but cyclonic conditions.

How can it be that I've just organised what was supposed to be a small gathering for AJ's birthday party and ended up with a massive party that will need loads of phonecalls to change venues, postpone or simply cancel all together?

We have nutted out a backup plan which includes even more work because it means family will still meet up with us tomorrow for brunch BUT it also means postponing the "friends" part of the party until one afternoon after school.  Which means inevitably means another lot of food and another cake!

But how do you just simply cancel the party?  I just can't bring myself to do that to her.  She's been looking forward to it all week.  We made her cake this afternoon - all the while with a splitting headache that I can't shake and resisting the urge to just crawl into a nice dark place and close my eyes - and she has done an awesome job in decorating it.  

It's one of my favourite things, making my girls birthday cakes.  I don't know why because it can be quite stressful when they want to "help" although, as you can see, AJ is getting better at helping these days and I'm getting better at letting go of the controls a little more.  But it is really satisfying to know that I made it and it's one of the few things I really know AJ appreciates.  You know kids, they pretty much take everything for granted but you can see how much she loves her cake each and every year.  She goes through the cake book 3 or 4 times a year and has selected the cakes for each birthday up until she's about, oh, 53.  So, yes, it is something I look forward to and the end result, so far, has always left me feeling somewhat creatively inspired.

So, what I am doing for the next 12 hours - apart from popping Panadol and going to my dark place finally?  I'm hoping like mad that the rain miraculously departs so we can have our party according to Plan A not to Plan B.

And hopefully there'll be no forecast for TEARS tomorrow.

Cake looks good though doesn't it?

My Time In The House...

This affects my time in the house because it's been urking me for quite a few years and I couldn't quite put my finger on why until I was standing in the shower tonight (which is quite often the only time I get to myself) with 2 little people in need of hair washes and wanting cuddles.

But I think I've finally figured out the difference between Mums and Dads. Well, in this household anyway. 

When I want to do pretty much anything, I have to schedule it around kids, family commitments, my husband's "stuff" but when he wants to do something it seems that's all he has to do.  Just do that one thing that he's chosen and not think about how it fits in with day to day life within the house.

For example, if  one of his mates calls at 6ish, that's fine.  He will just talk on the phone with them.  Don't worry that the kids need to be bathed, a story needs to be read and they need to get ready for bed.  It doesn't matter and why?  Because I'm here to do it while he's talking.  He only has to manage the one thing and he sits down while he's doing it.  He doesn't have to say to his friends, "sorry, I've got to go and get the girls organised".

Now, if one of my friends were to call, I would still be walking around the house, getting the girls organised for a shower or bath, getting their milk and telling them to get ready for bed.  See the difference?  

Very rarely do I get to sit and have a phone conversation with anyone without doing something else at the same time.  There are a few instances throughout the week, like both kids being in care (one whole day where I'm normally running around trying to get a shitload of stuff done that I don't want to do with them in tow) where I may get to sit and have a cuppa and talk on the phone but it's very rare.

It's not often that it bothers me but there are occasions where I get frustrated and question why.  It's like if I have a job to do, you know, one that actually has monetary benefits, it still needs to fit in around certain times like when Schmoo is asleep or the girls are in bed.  It can't be just when I want it to be.  And, I think, this is when I notice it more.  Because, if I'm not contributing monetarily then it's kinda my job to see to it that the girls stuff gets done but when I am doing a "real" job, there is nobody to back me up if I need it.

I don't get a solitary hour to type or talk on the phone without interruptions from someone needing something - and it's not always the girls, sometimes it's said husband needing to know how to do something on the computer that is soooo important that it can not wait until I get off the phone.  

So, yeah, I think this is the big difference.  Men are more often than not - well in my circle - the main breadwinners and, quite often, go to work and that's all they have to think about to make a general sweeping statement - or, in my husband's case, they think about project cars that need building and who they have to call next to place an order for said cars.  So, the women, even if they have a part-time job are normally the main care providers.  But even if women go outside of the home to work they still get the phonecalls to pick up the sick kid, they're still thinking about what to cook for dinner and what other errands they need to do in their lunch hour.  Is this sounding familiar to anyone else or did I luck out?

Or, on the weekends, for another example.  My husband can go to the shed and play with his toys and doesn't have to think what time it is and whether the girls will be getting hungry or whether Schmoo needs a sleep because I'm here.  If I'm out it's a different story, obviously and he doesn't get quite as much freedom but if I'm here I am ALWAYS the main care giver.  I couldn't go and sit in my room and read a book for an hour (letalone a whole day) without having to provide something for someone.

My husband is great, don't get me wrong.  He does let me have my sleep-ins on the weekend 99% of the time, although lately, he will be in the office on the computer so who do the girls come to?  You guessed it - Me!  So a sleep-in these days normally doesn't last past about 8am but, hey, it's still a sleep-in after getting up early all week. I'm sure if I needed the time (except, of course, when I'm sick) all I'd need to do is ask but as I've said before, when I'm hormonal, there are certain traits of his that really drive me crazy give me the feeling that I'm getting the short end of the stick? 

Another example, tonight.  We've put the girls to bed and he's gone to the shed and I'm trying to finish some proofing for a job but when the girls keep getting up and wanting stuff who is it that is attending to them?  Me!  And he's playing while I'm actually trying to work (okay, so not right now because I'm writing here but if you knew how many interruptions I'd had since we put the girls to bed at 7.30 you'd see why I stopped trying to do "real" work). 

Maybe I'm not selfish enough?  Or is this a mother's job?  And here is my eldest again with yet another request.....

Gotta go and get these monkeys to sleep so I can have a bit of "me" time.

Time to Leave The Nest...

Happy Birthday AJ!

I really want to write something purely inspirational and all zen like about you but, right now, your little sister is strumming the guitar singing "Hey there baby, baby. You are my boo boo child!" and telling me there's a cranky  monster coming around the corner.

Top that with this new typing job I'm trying to nut out that's really a little more difficult than I thought and I've got nothing.

I can't believe you're 5.  I can't believe what a wonderful person you are.  I love watching you grow into yourself and your beliefs and, believe me, you have very firm beliefs on certain things.  You have developed your father's knack of turning everything into a fact.  As he always   says "Don't let the truth get in the way of good story!".  You have adopted the same attitude.  You have also snagged his ability to be straight down the line, matter-of-fact, if you like.  You don't invite people to a party because you feel you have to, you actually un-invite people if you feel they have done something to seal their own fate.  

You have learnt to lie.  Not great big lies that are going to get you in trouble but little white lies.  I have to say though I'm still shocked when we catch you out.  I don't know why.  But, normally your charisma gets you out of any trouble the lie may have put you in, in the first place.

Happy Birthday my beautiful girl.  May all your dreams come true.

It Starts Today...

The Gemini Birthdays are here!

From now until the middle of June we have almost one birthday a day, if not two or three on the same day.

This time of year does. My. Head. In.

And amongst it all I'm trying to accept that my first born will be turning 5 on Wednesday!  F-I-V-E!!!  Faaaark!  When did that happen?

It also means we are half way through our first school year, and that in 4 weeks my baby will be TWO!  And I thought I wasn't ready for her to turn 1.

I must say though I'm hoping for another fast year if the last few weeks have been anything to gauge the onslaught of Schmooey's "Terrible Twos" year.  She has really started to give us a run for our money being all defiant-like and trying to be like her sister which, for the record she's not quite as good at.  She doesn't have the ability to stand nearly as tough as AJ at this age.  Schmooey is a little easier to break but, I'm sure with the appropriate guidance from said sister that will all change.

Actually, both of the girls are really pushing the boundaries lately.  Asserting independence, knowing what they want and how far they'll go to get it, standing their ground and just being, well, like their mother!  

I'd go as far to say this is going to be one interesting year!  And I have to do it all with heartburn for at least the next 4-5 months.

Time to stock up on the QuikEze.

Sayings...

I just feel the need to share this.  Another one I found on the old computer and now, I promise, there are no more copies!  LOL

"Always shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land amongst the stars."

I really love this saying and it is one that I will always encourage my daughters to follow. There would be nothing worse than getting to the end of your life and having regrets for not trying.

So try....it doesn't matter if you don't get to the destination you first decided on. As long as you get somewhere! It is the journey, not the destination that keeps us true to ourselves.

And now, I need to go to bed. Because my journey starts very early tomorrow when my little cherub wakes up around 5am* and it takes everything I have in me to appreciate her cheery disposition at such a ridiculous time of the day.

Have a great week...

*sometimes it's nice to see how far we've come.  This was written originally when AJ was about 2 and see, 3 years later, we've finally managed to skirt around 5am and get up at 6.30 instead, you know?  Just to take the edge off!

Oh to be normal.... what is normal???

I will preface this because I actually wrote this a while ago when I was very new to blogging and the whole idea was so exciting I opened up a couple of blogs at once.  But, I just found this in my documents as I was cleaning up my old computer before setting up the new Imac (oooh I think I'm in lurv...) and it still rang true as I read it so I thought, why not post it here???

Well, what is normal?

I don't know, never have. I used to think I was normal until others made it clear that I probably wasn't. But was it me or them? The school years are the hardest. You get boobs early, you get them late, you're taller than everyone else your age, your shorter (then if you're like me all of sudden you're taller - weird). You're cool, you're not cool. Where does it stop?

I have a wish for my children. I want them to always be confident in who they are. Knowing my daughters they will never question their identities and I truly hope they never have to. But how do you raise your children and teach them this? Especially if you were only ever quietly confident yourself. I never changed who I was, I was never cool and yet now my husband seems to think i underrate my "coolness" (his words, not mine).

Is it because I no longer worry about what people think of me? Or is to the degree in which you care? I am not sure. Every now and then someone will come along and I will be wondering if they like me. All of sudden I'm back at school. What will they say to others about me? And then I remember Dr Phil's comments. And I'm just adlibbing here because I can't remember word for word okay? It goes something like "you'd be surprised at how little you are in others thoughts". Well it doesn't sound as good when I say it but it's something like that anyway. Basically we spend so much time worrying about what someone else thinks when they probably haven't thought about it all.

Now, since I've had my girls, I have less time to worry about these things but, there are still the odd occasions when I overanalyse something I have said or done to the upteenth degree and almost drive myself nuts worrying about it. And then.....there's Dr Phil.....so I still worry about it but not so much. Over time I stop worrying about it but every now and then, even years later, it will creep into my mind and I will wonder if anyone remembers the incident...do they talk about it???

Probably not! 

That Old Debate...

I had my first antenatal appointment with the hospital today and, while sitting and sitting and waiting and waiting, the thought that we should have kept our private health insurance danced in and out of my thoughts.

I have had one baby privately and one publicly and, from all accounts, the public hospital was a much nicer memory I have to say (albeit thanks to AJ for having chickenpox right before Schmoo was born which gave me the luxury of a private room for quarantine purposes). But, still, when you're appointment is at 2 and it's 3.20 and you still haven't seen anyone you start to wonder, you know?

I have been quite anxious about this appointment for a number of reasons. I haven't heard a heartbeat since the day before our trip to Port Douglas but, more importantly, because I was wanting to discuss my birth options. AJ's birth was a very straight forward one while Schmoo's birth ended in an emergency c-section. I have discovered that it was nothing to do with her and she was in no immediate danger. It was more that my body just didn't want to proceed any further.

I don't think the hospital was wrong in their decision and I can't say it affected my birth experience or my bond with Schmoo. Although it did make me NEVER want another baby for a while there. It freaks me out. I'm sure it is directly related to my personal space issues. No doubt about it.

C-sections freak me out, not only because there is someone else poking and prodding the inside of me other than my baby but, just as importantly, because someone makes a decision on when your baby is ready to be born and in my mind, only my body and my baby should be making that decision.

So, knowing that I have large babies, and, knowing that every hospital here has an anti-VBAC reputation, I was understandbly apprehensive about "the talk".

And I have to say, yet again, I was blown away by the service I received and how positive my experience was again today. I came out feeling like, finally, I had been heard and respected for my wanting to entertain this idea. Plus the OB was just so reassuring and relieved me of my need to make a decision RIGHT NOW about all of this. As she has said, no big decisions really until around 36 weeks once we know bubs is head down, bum up and not weighing in at 15 pounds! That's like another 20 weeks away. I just need to continue finding information - not too much, however, or my brain could quite possibly explode. I really am not the type that needs an overload of information, more the type that needs the can I do this and is it right for me answers - and thinking about what's right for me/us as a family.

So, the good news is that because both of my labours were spontaneous and there was no massive emergency with the c-sec but more a call by the registrar at the time I can really do this if I want to.

The bad news is I will need a new support person who can coach me through because my ever sympathetic husband just doesn't get me at all. He just doesn't understand the need to put oneself through so much pain when drugs have been invented for that purpose. And, in a way, I guess he'd like the organised solution of a c-sec so he knows when he's needed. After my last post, I know you must be shocked. ; )

And the important bit..... A gorgeous little heartbeat pounding away in there.

What About Me???

Well, I'm not the little boy waiting at the counter of the corner shop and I'm definitely not the pretty young girl serving there but I really have had enough and I want my share!

In the last 29 hours, - funny it should be that number as it breaks down to 11 (the strong me) which then breaks down to 2 (the victim me, which I sometimes give in to) - since being told by the doctor I really need to start breathing air into my deprived lungs, I have.....

*made 4.5 of the 6 meals for the girls;bathed them and dressed one for bed (last night, after being promised I could go to bed when he got home); administered medicine and changed a pooey nappy - all resulting in me getting to bed at the undesirable hour of 8pm when my aim was 4! Have been up at least three times to resettle a restless child having some form of torturous nightmare; been woken at 6am; cleaned out the fish bowl after Schmoo decided to help mummy by feeding the fish....A half bottle of fish food - the food was piled so high they almost had to sit on top of the water to get to the peak of the mountain of food - which in turn lead to vacuuming the floor for the other half bottle of fish food. Did a load of washing; refereed (sp?) squabbles and settled disputes for most of the day; searched for chicken eggs; attended (that's putting it nicely for animal lovers everywhere) to a rooster that insists on harming my children - and who will be heading to Mac's farm any day now to get his karmic reward; and last but not least entertained a house guest - who, for the record, was my only highlight of the day; and put a very tired, grumpy Schmoo down for a nap.

Now! Can anyone see the problem here?

Yes, you! The lady in the front row with her hand waving vigorously. Been here yourself perhaps?

That's right. My husband has played very little, to no part in the last 29 hours of looking after ME! Not even a cup of tea this morning. I have been prioritised behind a car yet again! I'm not sure which part of "the doctor said I'm really not well and may end up in hospital over the weekend" he doesn't get but, obviously, he. Just. Don't. Get It!

And now, to top things off, insomnia has crept in tonight and all I can do is think and resent him for not being kind and caring enough. Being pregnant and hormonal makes it slightly worse I will admit. I have said before that he lacks sympathy/empathy/anything for anyone when they are sick or injured but, I foolishly believe that, if I explain myself well enough, he will understand how I'm feeling and make, at least, an attempt - fuck! Any lame attempt would be better than today's efforts - to make me feel like he actually is concerned about my wellbeing.

And what's that I hear in the background? Coughing? Great! So now he's gonna get the cold that started this and he's going to apologise for not being more caring and feel all sad and sorry for himself.

So, yes. I'm having a poor me moment. And why shouldn't I?

Oxygen? Really?

Who knew we needed it so much?

I have left this cough hoping that I could cure myself without having to give in to the pressures of modern medicine. Well, until today that is.

After almost passing out at the park, driving the 30 minutes home and putting Schmoo into bed a little bit of fear started to creep in at the thought that I really am struggling to breathe. I figured it was time to take the advice of my nurse and best friend and make a doctors appt. The first response from the clinic was "I'm pretty sure he's booked out for a couple of weeks. Let me just have a look."

I wait, all the while breathing down the phone like some seriously messed up stalker and then she says "oh he's had a cancellation today at 2.20". Great I'll take it. I figured it was a sign that things may be a little more urgent than I suspected.

I had to get AJ out of school early and just walking to the office from the front gate carrying Schmoo had me gasping like I'd just run a marathon. The lady behind the desk was quite concerned, bless her.

So, off to the doctor we go. Yes, yes. The doctor I love! Tell him the problem. That is, I. Can't. Breathe. Get tested and am told that I'm absolutely correct. I can't breathe well at all. Not much air in those lungs and apparently I don't do things by halves. I think I have mentioned before I hate, hate, hate going to A&E or GP's if I'm not really sick for fear they'll think I'm just being a girly blouse.

Anyway, GP asks if I'm sure I'm not asthmatic. Definitely never have been. And now I'm on all good things that asthmatics should be on I presume. Steroids, anitbiotics and ventolin. All the stuff I was desperately trying to avoid! :(

So there you have it! I really am quite sick. Who'd have thunk it?

A Pickle And Some Weezers...

So, AJ's school has just called and advised me that she is up in the sick bay (no idea why they even have them - which I'll get to in a minute) with a splinter in her finger and is distressed.

They, apparently, can't take the splinter out because it is under the skin so need someone to collect her??? WTF? Are we seriously teaching our kids that as soon as they have the slightest ailment (can I seriously even call a splinter an ailment?) they should be requesting to go home? I was going to use the term "begging" but obviously there is none of that needed because you only have to wince and you're on your way.

In the first term it was her sore ear, that turned out to be a small pimple just at the opening. Nobody bothered to check her ear or even ask her whether it was hurting on the inside or the outside. I am so serious!

Is it really that big a deal to get a splinter? She has an hour left of school. Could they not have put a bandaid on her finger and sent her back to class (idea courtesy of my friend R as I didn't even think of that when I was on the phone)?

Which brings me to the next point of why can't I think quick enough when I'm on the phone to the school. Is it because I have no big commitments and know I can just go and get her? If I was at work, for instance, would I think of a solution for them? Not that I should really have to should I? I don't get it.

And why bother sending her to the sick bay? Why bother having one? They get sent up there and the parent gets called and they get sent home so why not just send them home and stop wasting time? It's not like they're assessing the situation and saying "well, you know. It's really not that serious. Maybe you could continue with your studies. There is only an hour left of school".

So, thankfully, R is on her way here (Schmoo is sleeping and I'm babysitting R's daughter) so she is going to pick her up on the way over. I just think it's a little over the top that, as a parent, I can no longer expect the school to make an informed decision regarding my child. Well, not even informed for that matter. Just a bloody decision on such an insignificant matter that will neither impact my daughters or my life in any way after today.

Except, of course, when Daddy gets home and has to remove said "pickle" with the "weezers". Oh the waterworks and hysterics. I can see it all now.

AJ is one of those girls that goes from 0 to hysteria in a matter of milliseconds. And, by the time she has reached said hysteria, Daddy will have already removed the splinter before she has a clue.

How Many Weeks???

So, I kinda thought I was looking a little less, I don't know, PREGNANT! Until I received our family photo from Port Douglas. I'm now wondering if it was more the fact that people don't see me dressed up quite so often these days rather than me looking quite as glamorous as they all had me believing. :(

I will say though that my wonderful husband keeps telling me I look HOT! And, believe me when I say, at the moment there's no hidden agenda. ; )

Anyway, you be the judge. Our happy little family.

And, although I know I produce monsters, I still shudder at the thought of what size I'll be by the end of this pregnancy...

Please. Let It Stop!!!

This incessant coughing is driving the whole family nuts! AJ seems to be having a relapse so I've got her on the Olive Leaf Extract. Herbal remedies always seem to work best for the girls and I. Not sure why, but it's odd if AB's ever have any significant impact on us.

None of us have had a decent night's sleep in over 2 weeks. It's getting BAD! We are all very cranky. They're the only pants we have left I'm afraid.


Onto a brighter note though. We went away to Port Douglas for our friend's wedding. It was gorgeous. The bride was gorgeous. The groom was handsome. The whole bridal party was stunning. It had rained in the morning and had threatened rain as we turned up at the church but the weather held off as I told them it would. ;)

Apart from having to leave the actual ceremony with Schmoo because a) she was just plain noisy and b) she had done quite possibly one of her more stinkier #2's and the pew behind us could smell it, the rest of the afternoon was perfect. We had many a comment on how well-behaved our children were and what a credit they were to us as parents. If only those same people saw them at home. HA!



And DH was the perfect Daddy. He was the main carer while we were away which was really nice for me. It was great to sit and chat with other guests without constantly being interrupted by a little person needing my attention. DH just took over. I don't think I changed more than 3 nappies the whole time we were gone.

We felt very honoured that we had been seated at the family table and our friends considered us in such high regard that they felt we belonged there. And the girls were the only children there and were welcomed with open arms. The bride and groom were adamant they be invited and I'm so glad they behaved. Actually, I had unintentionally offended the groom the night before when making a joke about how I knew they really only wanted to invite AJ but needed chaperones. He was seriously gutted that I even had the thought and I had to very hastily take it all back and insist I was only joking. I felt to mean! Serves me right for trying to be funny!

AJ was up at the bridal table for a good part of the night and decided she belonged with the bridesmaids. They became her new best friends for the most part of the evening and they were happy to let her tag along with them. And the girls danced. And danced. And danced. They really were the life of the party.

And you know those times, when you dress up and you hope you look "asseptable"? Imagine my surprise when I almost outshone the bride (purely not my intention and impossible to do as she was absolutely stunning!) and received so many comments on how great I looked. I was blown away. Very rarely do I receive such rave reviews. I have to admit I felt a little bit special*.

Have I mentioned the stunning bride? Her dress was absolutely amazing. And she just glowed. She looked gorgeous. They entered the reception straight up with a bridal "waltz" to that good old famous KISS song, "I Was Made For Loving You". It was fabulous!

One of our most memorable trips to date.

So glad I didn't have to cancel. : )


*Will upload a family pic when I get my hands on one.