Leaps and bounds

Needed and wanted

2012-02-14T14:29:00.000+11:00

We are working on the difference between needs and wants right now. An important life lesson for sure, and one I don't always have a handle on. Yesterday Chet was building a garage out of a Wiggles domino set and some duplo and was looking for a space to put one his cars. He turned to me and asked: "is it needed or wanted?" Excellent question I thought, and explained that it was wanted - cars don't 'need' garages but it would be nice sometimes for them to have them. I then went on to say that he needs food and water and air and sleep and cuggles and he grinned at me and said 'yes, and kisses too'. I think he has got the idea mostly, although not sure the conversation will stop the daily plaintive demand that he 'needs ice-cream'!

Wordle

2012-02-03T20:51:00.000+11:00

Been playing around with Wordle tongiht using this blog's URL. This is what I get:

It's kinda fun - combining geekiness and words, what's not to like? A new header for the blog might be in order.

On a side note, a lot has been happening since I last posted - Chet is now toilet trained, I got a new computer (Macbook Air, fantastic, just need to work out how to do a few things), we went on holiday, it was my first Christmas since my Dad died and Minx went missing - we did find her after 5 days, thankfully. Summer has been pretty dire so hardly any beach time but we did manage many trips to charity shops over the Christmas break. The K-man decided to start buying 70s plates (and believe me, we do not need any more places, 70s or otherwise). As quickly as I could get rid of stuff he was busily acquiring more. So much for de-cluttering, an endless process it seems. Now that the year has well and truly begun I should have a bit more time to spend here. We shall see!

Happy things ...

2011-09-20T13:27:00.007+10:00

Life for the past few months has been a bit blah, one way or another, so I have been grasping with both hands anything that makes me happy. Here are some of the things that have taken me to a happy place recently.

A beautiful figgjo teapot I found on the street on morning on my way to work. I immediatley scooped it up and hurried home with it. It was a bit dusty but otherwise in good condition. It makes me smile every time I see it.

A blue own from Vinnies, on a hand-knitted (by me) placement made with wool also sourced from Vinnies, on knitting needles from eBay. Sustainable creativity at its best! Be warned friends, you may be the recipients of hand-knitted place-mats or coasters in the near future.

It is spring and my lavender is flowering for the first time. I have also planted some cherry tomatoes and am hoping for a bumper crop.

And finally my boys on Fathers Day. They make me smile every day.

Compliments ...

2011-09-15T14:30:00.003+10:00

Chet is becoming quite the complimenter. Yesterday, he saw our neighbour's sister and thought it was our neighbour, Liz, and said "I like Liz's hair", because the sister's hair was quite different to Liz's and he had noticed the difference. This morning he saw me getting into the shower and said "Mummy, I like your belly button". That is where he should have stopped. I (foolishly) asked him why and his response: "because it is funny!" I wonder if he will be a charmer when he grows up?

African reading ...

2011-09-07T15:18:00.007+10:00

I've been reading a lot lately, mainly about Africa, Zimbabwe to be precise, in an effort to understand a bit more about where I come from and where my father came from. I guess it is partly to understand my father a little better, seeing as he is no longer around for me to ask questions. Also because some of the people described in these books remind of some of the people who came to my Dad's funeral - they all seem to have a certain look about them. In a review I read of one of these books, the reviewer intimated that the last thing the reading public needed was another white man's view of the situation in Zimbabwe but they did go on to say that the book in question did add something to the oeuvre. From my perspective these books did add something to my knowledge and understanding of my past and of the recent past of Zimbabwe. All three books resonate with a love of country and a bewilderment regarding the current state of affairs in Zimbabwe. The absurdity of day to day life in a corrupt third world country is highlighted as well.

The three main books I have read are:

The Last Resort: A Memoir of Zimbabwe
by Douglas Rogers
It was funny and sad and absurd all at once and the tenacity of the author's parents is to be admired. Rogers now lives in New York, but was born and grew up in what is now Zimbabwe. From goodreads: "The Last Resort is an inspiring, coming-of-age tale about home, love, hope, responsibility, and redemption. An edgy, roller-coaster adventure, it is also a deeply moving story about how to survive a corrupt Third World dictatorship with a little innovation, humor, bribery, and brothel management."

Cocktail Hour under the Tree of Forgetfulness
by Alexandra Fuller
The author's brother was born in the same hospital I was born in, the Lady Chancellor Maternity Home in what was then Salisbury. Fuller now lives in Wyoming with her family. She tells a moving tale of her family's long engagement with Africa, from Kenya, to Zimbabwe to Zambia. She clearly loves her mother, despite her mother's complaints that she is going to put her in 'another awful book'. "A story of survival and madness, love and war, loyalty and forgiveness, Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness is an intimate exploration of the author's family. In the end we find Nicola and Tim at a coffee table under their Tree of Forgetfulness on the banana and fish farm where they plan to spend their final days." - goodreads.

When a Crocodile Eats the Sun: A Memoir of Africa
by Peter Godwin
Written by another Zimbabwean who lives in the US, Godwin is a bit older than the other two writers and actually served time in the Rhodesian army. The book starts with his father's heart attack which really resonated with me given my father's heart condition and his recent death from heart failure. Like the other two books this concentrates on the recent collapse of Zimbabwe following the start of the farm invasions and land grabs that ultimately resulted in the destruction of the economy and looks at how the author's friends and family cope in the aftermath of this. His sister ends up having to leave the country and his parents remain in Harare sinking slowly into a poverty stricken old age.

Leaps and bounds ...

2011-08-23T13:41:00.002+10:00

"We are born naked and stay naked for only a few moments until we are wrapped in our first clothes. In our small shoes, our little trousers and tops and shorts, until we grow out of them in leaps and bounds, and begin to develop our own ideas about what to wear - we have always got something or other on."

The Thoughtful Dresser
Linda Grant

Where ...

2011-07-05T17:17:00.003+10:00

It has been a while between updates and I am slowly coming to terms with a whole lot of stuff that is happening at the moment. But, Chet continues to delight. He has lately become the boy who cried 'where?' - at every opportunity. I ask him if he wants some toast, and his response is 'where?' I ask him if he wants to put on his boots and he shouts 'where?', pretty much any question I might ask him could be guaranteed a response of 'where?' He still loves The Beatles and has a Beatles towel that we have to fix round his neck with a peg so he can run around and be 'super Chet'. Here is a photo of him enjoying dry wheatbix that he helped himself to while I was in the shower.

I have been reading a lot - my usual way to make sense of life. The other day I came across the following, which neatly sums up the way I am feeling.

"Whatever a family's tragedy, children demand to be cared for, fed, and played with. This is, I think, one of the great blessings they bring to our lives. Mourning must be filtered through the lens of their all-consuming needs, and their infinite capacity for joy." Death gets a time-out by Ayelet Waldman.

And so everything changes ...

2011-04-28T14:20:00.003+10:00

I have been meaning to update for a while. A few things have happened since I last wrote - I turned 40, Chet said and did some funny stuff and was very cute, the K-man was sick, there was an earthquake in Japan and the Minx was the Minx. But, my world tipped off it's axis yesterday. My father died. He collapsed while trying to start the lawnmower and the ambos were not able to revive him. He had had a heart condition for a long time but even so it was relatively unexpected.

In the wake of that everything else seems insignificant. Chet and I are going up to Queensland tomorrow to be with my mother and help organise the things that need organising. My brother is flying in from Japan. We are all in a state of shock. I keep expecting to see something about it on the news and then I remember that it is only newsworthy to me and my family and my friends. He was my Dad and I loved him. It could be a while before I write again ...

Nothing peoples

2011-03-29T14:05:00.004+11:00

Life and conversations with a two year old continue to delight and frustrate in equal measures - I am sure most parents would agree with this. But the strange and funny conversations continue. Chet is currently talking a lot about various people who haven't bitten his toe. As in "Grandpa not bite my toe" - he told me this last night, just before bed, apropos nothing. I asked him who did bite his toe and his response was that the "nothing peoples" bit his toe which I took to mean that no one actually did bite his toe at all. But, on reflection, perhaps it was the nothing peoples, whoever they may be. They may be related to the Beatles song, Nowhere Man which he knows well and refers to simply as "Man".

Big boys

2011-02-12T14:11:00.003+11:00

We are currently visiting my parents in Toowoomba. Their cat, Snouty is a rather large and beautiful chocolate brown (part) Burmese. He is also terrified of most things, including a chicken that used to visit a while back.

Overheard a conversation (well more of a monologue really) between Chet and Snouty.

Chet: Hello Snouty, you're a big boy.

Snouty: Quizzical, slightly scared interest.

Chet: I'm a big boy too.

Snouty: Hmm, goes to run away.

Chet (in a hopeful voice): I'm two.

At this point Snouty takes off with Chet in hot pursuit.

Also overheard between Chet and slightly older boy in K-mart.

Chet: I'm a big boy.

Boy: No you're not!

Chet: I'm a big boy.

Boy: Shrug

And then they both started playing with bangles.

Fabric ...

2011-02-02T15:09:00.003+11:00

I don't think I need to buy any more fabric or vintage sheets until I start actually using it for something. I now have two vintage suitcases full of fabric (some of which was my mother's incidentally), not to mention half of a cabinet in the dining room full of fabric, mending, knitting and other crafty things.

I also have piles of books I have read and want to write something about sitting on my desk and sewing basket. Not to mention the pile of books I haven't yet read.

January has been about trying to get organised and getting rid of a few things and to that end I have gotten rid of quite a few books and most of the remaining baby clothes. But, I still have a way to go. But, I haven't been to a charity shop this year and have managed to get rid of more than I have acquired. The beginning of an experiment in downsizing ... wish me luck.

Baking ... mini passover cakes

2010-12-01T16:10:00.004+11:00

I have also been baking a lot lately as well - I think to make up for the fact that I don't cook dinner much as that is usually the time I am putting Chet to bed. Luckily for me the K-man has stepped up to the plate in that regard and has become a dab hand and putting together an evening meal.

I seem to often have a few oranges kicking about the fruit-bowl so was very pleased to come across a version of this recipe in Marion Halligan's wonderful rumination on cooking and gardening The Taste of Memory. I was also pleased to be able to take these mini passover cakes to a 1st birthday party recently - the mother of the birthday boy (who is Jewish) was very pleased to have something there reflecting his heritage.

Ingredients
2 oranges
4 eggs
100 grams almond meal
125 grams castor sugar
half heaped teaspoon baking powder

Process
Wash oranges and boil for 2 hours - make sure that they don't boil dry. This can be done the night before. Sometimes I might add a lime or lemon but the end result is a little more bitter.

Pre-set oven to 180 degrees
Line muffin tin with baking paper or patty cake cases. I find this makes around 12 muffin size mini-passover cakes. You could of course use a normal cake tin if you felt like it.

Purée the boiled oranges, skin and all. I use a stick blender but you could use a food processor.

Beat the eggs, rain the sugar in slowly, beat for quite a while, then rain in the almond flour and baking powder. Add puréed oranges and stir with spatula until just mixed.

Spoon mixture into prepared muffin tin.

Cook for 40 minutes or until browned and cooked through. Everything in my oven seems to take a lot longer so I sometimes end up cooking them for nearly an hour.

They are quite sticky so I usually serve them in their baking paper cases - I like to think it adds a rustic look to the cakes.

Reading ...

2010-12-01T15:33:00.005+11:00

I have been on a massive reading bender which has been nice but feels as though my brain is a bit scrambled. I read the Millenium Trilogy very quickly on my Kobo and decided that Scandinavian crime really has got something going for it. I even bought the DVD of The girl with the dragon tattoo, that's how into it I got.

I also just read Sex and Stravinsky by Barbara Trapido which initially struck a lot of chords with me - the opening sentence "The time is the late 1970s so everyone in the house looks hideous" makes it clear that the book deals the 70s (one of my favourite decades), and is also concerned with the way things look. Tellingly, one of the main characters ends up with an architect. The book is set in the UK but there is an Australian character as well as several South African characters and part of the book is set in Durban, where my grandmother grew up and my great aunt lived for most of her life. I am a sucker for a book that references places and things I know about and the more the merrier. One of the main characters writes stories about a girl called Lola who becomes a ballet dancer - something I and a million other pre-pubescent girls have dreamed about. I liked the mirroring of Josh's academic world with the world of the characters where nothing is as it seems, everyone is wearing a mask and life becomes a funny tragic comic opera. But, I didn't like how it all tied up so neatly at the end. Two of the male protagonists effectively swap wives, and their wives in turn swap lives and daughters. I am sure that this does happen in real life but it didn't feel quite real in the book, and all happened too smoothly and easily with no real ramifications for the people involved - or so it seemed to me.

But, on the subject of husbands swapping wives, I recently read a beautifully written memoir by Jane Alison, Sisters Antipodes. Jane Alison's family became inextricably linked with another family when the two families meet in Canberra in the 1960s. Jane's father was an Australian diplomat and her family consisted of two parents and two daughters, as did this other family, who's father was an American diplomat. The daughters from the other family were of a similar age to Jane and her sister, with one of whom even sharing a birthday with Jane. Jane tells the story of the meeting of the two families from a child's perspective - somehow, she isn't quite sure how and no-one ever really says, the decision is made that she and her mother and sister will go to the US and then South American with the American diplomat while her father will stay behind with the mother and daughters of the other family. And so it set up a lifetime of wondering why and how and of searching for identity as well as the meaning of family and in turn of fathers.

Oh

2010-11-03T16:22:00.001+11:00

and I know that October is sorely lacking in posts. This is mostly because we were away, it was Chet's birthday and we have all been sick. Am in the process of catching up ... it will happen at some point.

Thank you ...

2010-11-03T16:16:00.002+11:00

to the man who told me I was lovely today as I was rushing to the train station at lunch time. You made my day. Had you told me this ten years ago I would have wanted to punch you in the face but I am older and fatter and more haggard and tired so these days I have more appreciation for the random compliment. I also think that perhaps you need glasses or were drunk which is fine too - nothing wrong with being drunk!

These days my compliments mostly come from Chet. He sometimes tells me that either I am pretty, my eyes are pretty or my glasses are pretty. However, he also said that some dinosaur bones in the museum were pretty so I am not 100% sure he has a grasp on the meaning of the word. Still ... better than nothing I suppose as I head inexorably towards 40.

Push me pull you

2010-09-15T15:03:00.004+10:00

Chet has becoming very pushy lately. And I don't mean that he has become a stage parent ... He has developed a habit of pushing other kids, generally girls, and generally children that are smaller than him. We went to a third birthday party the other day and he pushed over a little girl and made her cry and hit the birthday boy over the head with a plastic plate. Admittedly the plate was purple, which is the favourite colour of both boys but still. Almost every time I take him to the park he goes to push a child and would do it unless I intervene. The other day he pushed over a girl from my mother's group, who he has known since he was about 6 weeks old.

I have to say that I am finding this new development quite confronting. I don't want him to hurt other children, and I also don't want to upset other parents. I don't feel that making him apologise to the other children is really going to change anything - I don't think he quite understands what that means and as a child I always hated being forced to apologise. So, I am left sheepishly apologising myself to the parent of the child concerned and trying to distract Chet by suggesting we go and look at the work going on at the train tracks. Fortunately the extension of the light rail that is happening at the train tracks at the bottom of the park is endlessly interesting to a small boy and there is almost always a digger or some men in flurou vests wandering about. I hope that the pushing stage ends before the track work does.

Mama gave me a new haircut ...

2010-09-14T14:28:00.002+10:00

I cut Chet's hair last week, not for the first time and certainly not for the last time but I really didn't do a very good job. Fortunately, at just under two he is unconcerned. It is the classic Mama hatchet job. I accidentally took too much off one side so had to try and even it out on the other side. It looks like a bowl cut at the front and a bit of a bob at the back. Poor boy - luckily he doesn't seem to mind. The K-man, on the other hand, seemed to be quite upset.

I shouldn't be surprised - the K-man was apparently legendary for his blond bob, beautifully blow-dried and never a hair out of place. He often talks about how lovely his hair was in the past (the blond bob was before my time) and indeed it was. Here is the very special K-man, in his long lost youth. Perhaps Chet will look like this in the not too distant future?

Kobo

2010-08-31T15:28:00.003+10:00

I just acquired a Kobo and am unreasonably excited about what really amounts to a small piece of plastic. But, a small piece of plastic that can contain 1000 books - how good is that? It comes preloaded with 100 books - all out of copyright, mostly Gutenberg Press titles - which is also very exciting. Finally, my chance to come to grips with Dickens and others. It doesn't work with Amazon but any e-book or magazine in the ePUB format will work with it which is one reason why I got it. And, it is relatively cheap, very simple and looks pretty good to me - although I would not say I was an expert on e-readers. We are preparing for a family trip to Japan in a few weeks and I am hoping to take most of my reading material (and Chet's) on the Kobo. This should lighten our luggage load considerably - I usually travel with at least three books and get edgy if I don't know where my next reading fix is going to come from. I have spent hours in cities in non-English speaking countries looking for bookshops with books in English, much to the frustration of my travelling companions. Now, I just have to download interesting reading material before I go and need panic no longer. It won't stop me from going to bookshops though - I just can't help it.

And, it looks as though Chet is also in danger of becoming a bookshop fanatic. When I pick him up from day-care he says to me "book shoff" in the hope that I will take him to Gleebooks around the corner from his day-care. He loves running in there, shrieking and searching for all the Thomas books. He often grabs a book, and lies down on the floor of the shop, in the aisle, and says "reading". How can I resist?

Note to self ...

2010-08-23T11:22:00.004+10:00

Some Mondays it is just not worth leaving the house. I should have known it was all going to go to hell in a hand-basket when I woke up snotty and with a sore throat. I had thought I had been suffering a bout of hay fever but no, it seems that a cold is setting in. Then, the landlord arrived when I was in the shower and I could hear him banging around outside looking for the source of a mysterious leak we have been having. So, shower cut short, I get dressed and go outside to find that he can't find the leak and that it was all for nought.

Then I decide to visit Aldi to collect nappies and other supplies. I really should remember that unless the conditions are ideal then a visit to Aldi is ill-advised. The conditions this morning were far from ideal - I was sick, I hadn't had breakfast, it was just starting to rain and I had absolutely no money on me so couldn't fork out the $2 for a trolley which meant that I had to go in there with a very active Chet (who refuses to get in his stroller) and carry whatever I wanted to buy as well as make sure Chet didn't steal deodorant, bread or crackers or run out the door and into the road. Now it has to be said that I was not at my best. I was winning no mother of the year award this morning. I was tired, cranky and impatient and my poor little exuberant boy bore the brunt of it, with me rudely pulling him away from tantalising displays and hurrying him through at a rapid pace. The only positive outcome is that I spent less than I would have as I could only cope with getting the bare essentials.

Aldi done I envisaged a relaxing coffee and breakfast at a local coffee shop called Babycinos. This coffee shop caters towards mums and small people - there is a good kids menu and lots of toys for the small ones to play with while their mothers chat, or in my case, slump desperately over a cup of coffee. Things were going ok when Chet tried to grab a toy off another little boy who also wasn't having a good morning. He ran away with the toy, Chet followed him, tried to grab it again, and then little boy latched on to Chet's fingers with all his might. I ran over, as did the boy's mother but it was too late. Chet was bleeding (a little bit) and crying and the mother was remonstrating with her son and didn't even look at me for some time (I guess her day wasn't going so well either). Anyway, I took Chet and sat down with him and gave him a cuddle and some toast and he kept crying and saying "go home". Eventually the other mother came over and apologised on behalf of her son and then of course we all happened to be at the counter at the same time. Chet held out his hand to the little boy and said "hand hurt" and the other mother just looked tired and embarrassed. She said to me that at least her son hadn't broken any skin, to which I had to disagree as he had really sunk his teeth in and Chet had quite deep gauge marks and a small bleeding graze. Those toddler teeth are pretty sharp.

All the way home Chet just kept saying "watch Thomas" - which is one of his catch cries at the moment. And for once the answer was a very positive "yes, yes you can watch Thomas". I might even watch some Thomas myself - I don't think that today was a day meant for great achievement ...

Been reading ...

2010-08-15T11:05:00.005+10:00

I have actually managed to read a bit lately. Not sure how, perhaps it is the welcome addition of Gleebooks to the local shops. Perhaps it is the fact that there is less on tv, or my appetite for tv is waning at the moment. Whatever the reason, it has been really nice to reacquaint myself with the joy of words on a page, as opposed to a screen.

One of the books I have read recently is Breastfeeding older children by Ann Sinnott. I am breastfeeding Chet at 22 months, and while I don't really consider that at 22 months he is an older child I guess I am probably moving into that territory. There were mothers interviewed in the book that were feeding children aged 6 and over and also tandem feeding long-term. An interesting point made by the author was that (of course) feeding a 4 year old is very different to feeding a newborn. A 4 year old would probably feed a couple of times a day compared to the 8-12 feeds required by a newborn.

Although I didn't agree with everything in the book - I am not sure, for instance, that it is possible to suggest that all positive aspects of your child's personality and development are down to having breastfed long term - it was certainly a thought provoking book. I must admit to feeling some unease about really long term breastfeeding but I guess with children you never know where things are going to end up. I do know that when I started breastfeeding I was more focussed on whether it was possible and on the logistics of getting it all happening to even think of an end date. And I guess for us we will keep on until such time as either of us wants to stop.

I particularly liked one of the author's final points: "Sustained breastfeeding is however not emerging in developed societies but re-emerging. Today's long-term breastfeeding mothers ... are not only picking up almost-forgotten threads but they are also the continuance of a line of rebellious women." p253. Bring on the rebellious women I say!

Naturally there are many ways of being a rebellious mother - those Mamabakers down the south coast made me laugh out loud with their antics - thanks Mama Mogantosh for reminding me that us mothers can be tired, rebellious, feminist and funny as all get out.

Further reading:
Mothers who breastfeed beyond babyhood
Can breastfeeding really be good for older children? Emma Cook meets mothers who keep going up to school age and beyond.
The Guardian, Saturday 9 January 2010

Sharing ...

2010-07-06T13:24:00.006+10:00

We have all been learning some lessons about sharing. Neither the K-man nor I are known for our ability to share but parenthood has forced us to re-evaluate somewhat. The K-man remarked the other day that he had never shared as much food as he had shared with Chet and indeed it is impossible to eat anything in Chet's presence without him demanding "mine, mine" with greater and greater insistence, until we give him a piece of whatever it is - cake, toast, banana, gluten-free cereal. And of course, how can we teach him how to share if we do not do so ourselves? Here we are sharing the couch and some granny blankets - one of which actually was my grandmother's.

Even the cat has been getting a lesson in sharing. Whenever she has the temerity to play with any of Chet's toys - she has a habit of flicking them under the couch - he rushes up and grabs them, again shouting "mine, mine". Poor Minx, she invariably gives up and jumps high up on the couch, out of harm's way.

I have been thinking that this insistence of ownership is the curse of the only child but the more I talk to other parents the more I think it is a developmental stage. I guess it could also have something to do with spending time in daycare where none of the toys belong to anyone and everyone gets acquainted with the concept of sharing on a daily basis. Let's just hope we can get past this stage and all learn to share with grace - even the cat!

Last week ...

2010-05-17T13:10:00.003+10:00

was a bit of a shocker in some ways. I had pleurisy, albeit a mild case, and Chet was cutting some of his final 4 molars. I had two trips to two different Doctors, one for me and one for Chet, as well as an ECG to make sure my heart wasn't causing any problems (it wasn't). I had two days off work and watched the entire 4th season of The Wire which is fantastic television although watching episodes back to back like that meant that I had the characters in my head for the whole week.

I also had a receptionist imply that I was a bad mother because I was allowing Chet to move some decorative rocks from a pot plant in the waiting room. I mean really. He was moving them from the pot plant to a display stand and back again, very quietly, not causing any damage to the plant or anything else. I would have put them all back when we left but apparently this was not good enough for the receptionist who came around the desk and stood over Chet and grabbed all the rocks and put them back herself. I said that he wasn't causing any harm and that I would deal with it and she told me that I was the mother and shouldn't let him do it in the first place. I was really angry and told her "don't tell me how to mother" but all in all it was a very unsatisfactory encounter. I was a bit shocked that she wasn't charmed by Chet - in the past year and a half I have taken Chet with me to countless appointments and he has done worse things than move rocks around. Every time the receptionists have responded to him with encouragement and interest - one even made him a toy out of a specimen jar and some paper-clips - so I was quite taken aback to suddenly have this negative reaction. Especially considering that he could have been unplugging her computer, pulling patient files from the compactus, playing with the telephone, sticking his fingers in the printer and generally being an inquisitive toddler. The receptionist also said that there were toys for him to play with however earlier she had forcefully put the lid on the toy box making them inaccessible and subtly indicating that she didn't want him playing with them. What's a boy to do?

But, we also saw a chicken crossing the road in Dulwich Hill which cheered me up no end. Not sure where she was going, or whether she made it to the other side as she was being chased by someone, presumably her owner, but I was amused to see something slightly incongruous whilst playing with Chet in the park.

Fe

2010-04-19T19:39:00.003+10:00

Well, just had the latest test results back from new wholistic doctor and discovered that while my thyroid isn't too bad (for once) my iron levels are very low, particularly my iron saturation levels. So, have started on Hemagenics Intensive care iron and vitamin B supplement (among other supplements including liquid zinc which tastes absolutely foul) prescribed by the doctor and almost immediately have started to feel less tired and more human. Wonders will never cease.

I think that perhaps the 20 or so blood tests I had last year may have contributed to my iron deficiency and may not have contributed a great deal in terms of knowledge as to what was actually wrong. As a result, I have also decided not to see two of the doctors I have been seeing - kind of doctor sacking by stealth I guess ...

So, perhaps blog posts will increase in the next little while. I certainly feel more able to manage things and hopefully will have more time in which I actually feel like doing more of the things I want to like my ABA Counsellor Training, writing my blog, reading, cooking, gardening and sewing. For the past little while life has mostly been about doing what is most important and what I can which has been looking after Chet and going to work and doing the stuff required to keep a house reasonably clean and it's occupants reasonably well fed. Can't say I have been doing a bang-up job, but passable I guess. So, here's to things looking up I say!

Loving ...

2010-03-10T19:58:00.003+11:00

my KeepCup. I feel so virtuous trotting downstairs from work to get my coffee in it. I have felt vaguely guilty for years, throwing away all those take away coffee cups and now I don't have to.Re-usable, environmentally friendly and it looks good. What is not to like? I still feel mildly embarresed by my coffee order at the moment (soy decaf flat white) but feeling virtuous about my KeepCup overrides any lingering embarrassment. A win win situation I would say.

In fact, it has gone a bit green round here. I decided as a bit of a New Years resolution to make a concerted effort to remove chemicals from our home environment and to eat as healthily as possible. This, combined with a dairy free, gluten fee and yeast free diet has meant that the past few months have been a bit challenging but I am thinking very carefully before I buy food or cleaning products which is part of the battle I think.

To that end, I went to a workshop last night at the Watershed on Natural Personal Care, and very illuminating it was too. It was presented by a cosmetic chemist and she talked about the kinds of chemicals that go into beauty care products and gave us some recipes to make our own. I made an oat and honey scrub and some rose water toner and am looking forward to making more products. Chet even had an oat bath today - oats are very good for eczema and the dermatologist recommended creams I have been using on his skin contain oats so I figured, why not go to the source. And, he seemed to like bathing in oats so maybe we will do it more often.

The wheels on the bus ...

2010-02-22T08:58:00.003+11:00

Chet woke up this morning making the hand actions for The Wheels on the Bus and singing along. This is great, although it is not a song I really know - I think they must have been singing it at day care. So, I have been forced to look up the words and try and figure out the actions to keep him happy. If I don't, he just moves his arms about like Peter Garrett did on stage circa 1983 and says "more, more". So more it is. I did find a website that has the words for rhymes of all kinds on transportation themes, so if you are looking for a rhyme about a plane for example, this is the place to go!

Alone ...

2010-02-10T09:08:00.003+11:00

The rain has stopped, the sun is out and Sydney is putting on a beautiful summers day. I have taken three days annual leave from work and Chet is in his new day care where he is settling in well. I took this opportunity to grab some much needed alone time and to sort out some things I had been putting off for an eternity. I put him in the car so the K-man could take him to day care and he looked really brave and tried not to cry and waved just a little bit as they drove off. Poor little monkey ...

The house is really quiet, I was able to have a shower without having to talk to Chet while doing it and I can leave doors open as I please. I have done some washing and had breakfast in peace. It feels really strange. It has only been an hour and I miss him already.

Cowpoke pants

2010-02-03T21:05:00.004+11:00

Couldn't you see Chet in these pants? I could. He sure would look cute and he is a bit of a coyboy by nature ... We can't wait for him to talk properly as we are sure it is going to be very amusing. He is on his way, he can say Chet, cheese and cheers - all very important words for a small man although the distinction is perhaps only something a parent could hear. He is particularly good at 'cheersing' with his water bottle and will work a room, saying cheers to everyone and touching drinks. He is a hit at gatherings that's for sure. He has also been known to cheers us in the morning over breakfast. So, to win some kids clothing like these cowpoke pants by Brusselsprouts go to Georgie Love for more info on the giveaway. And thanks to Mama Mogantosh for the heads-up.

Sleeping ...

2010-01-25T16:22:00.002+11:00

Well it is nearly the end of January and the blog has been very neglected. Mind you, it is not the only aspect of my life that has slid by the wayside recently. I started ABA Training at the end of last year and just before Christmas put all my training material in a box and there it has stayed. And the clean-up of the house has stalled somewhat as well although I did manage to prune the hibiscus tree out the front - hacked some might say but at least passers by can walk on the footpath without being assaulted by it. Still, I have to say, that health-wise I am much better and despite having been off the air for most of January I am now back, baby I'm back (and yes I have been watching too much Seinfeld on our new digital TV!)

And Chet has been quite unwell as well. He came back from Toowoomba with a cold, we all did, but his was the worst. Then he was well for about a week and then came down with an awful cough and high temperature last week. He didn't sleep properly for a week as his coughing kept on waking him up and as a result I didn't sleep very well either. He started getting better on Saturday and even slept most of the night Saturday night but wouldn't sleep for an hour and half last night for no reason that I could fathom. Well, this afternoon the poor little monkey has slept for three hours, nearly three and a half. I finally got him to sleep around quarter past one and he is still asleep at four thirty. I may have to wake him up as he won't want to sleep tonight. But, since we are going to a bbq tonight he might have a later night anyway. I think I will just let him sleep - he must have been so tired. Let sleeping Chet's lie I say ...

Mummy bashing

2009-12-02T21:22:00.004+11:00

Lynn Harris at Salon asks 'why is there so much contempt for mothers these days?' An interesting article that examines some of the ways in which mothers and their 'choices' are criticised. I tend to think that choice is an over-used word in a capitalist world when it often feels as though the only choices people have are around products - if you have a choice of 20 different washing powders isn't it just a bit meaningless? And a bit of a waste of time - I tend to find such choice a bit paralysing - I could spend half an hour trying to decide which one to get and then just end up getting the one that is cheapest, or has the least offensive packaging, or something. And I have always thought that mothers get a bit of a rough deal - not sure if the vitriol is new or just expressed in a different way. Mostly, mothers just want the best for their children and unfortunately that can often be expressed in a desire for the best (or most expensive) pram or neighbourhood or school ad infinitum. And, mostly, we are doing the best we can with the resources we have at our disposal. Hopefully our children will agree when they are grown up and look back at their childhood.

Chet and Spot

2009-11-17T13:30:00.003+11:00

Chet and I went to visit Andrea and Kevin on Sunday and Chet proceeded to put their toilet duck in the toilet and splash the toilet water all over himself, get DVDs all over the floor, crawl manically up and down the hall, go into their bedroom, get the broom out and wack it about the kitchen etc etc. We didn't stay that long! Kevin wrote about it in his blip here.

And then he was 1

2009-10-20T11:15:00.004+11:00

Chet is now 1. In fact, he turned 1 on 5 October, two weeks ago now. He is now not far off walking - he walks around the coffee table and has a little wooden trolley I got him for his birthday that he likes to push around the house, grinning madly. He now has 12 teeth - 4 molars seem to be coming through at once which has been giving him some gyp. And he sure can eat - sometimes it seems as though he is eating his bodyweight in food. And when he doesn't want any more food he waves his arms around vigorously in front of his face or he spits his food out or he simply drops it on the floor. But mostly he waves, a lot.

For his birthday we had a picnic in our local park which was well attended. I managed to consume a couple of glasses of champas which I felt were much needed after a year of interrupted sleep. We laid the cake out on a table cloth that my grandmother had bought in 1940 to use for my father's birthday parties. This table cloth was then passed to my mother when I was born and was used for all of mine and my brother's birthday parties. And, last time I saw my mother, the cloth was duly handed down to me to use for Chet's birthday. It is a beautiful linen table cloth with Snow White and the Seven Dwarves on it and has held up surprisingly well given how old it is. Although, as my dad pointed out, it hasn't actually been used that much over the years.

So, to my beautiful son on the occasion of your first birthday - you are a delight to me, I revel in your smiles and giggles and I feel we have been privileged to be your care giver until you are ready to take your place in the world. You are a happy contended child and you light up my world. With much love, your mother.

A year ago ...

2009-09-30T19:51:00.003+10:00

I was just over 40 weeks pregnant. Chet was due on 28th September. On the evening of the 29th September I had a hind water leak which is where there is some leaking of fluid from above the baby but the waters don't actually break. It can be a problem due to the risk of infection. I thought my waters had broken and rang the Birth Centre around midnight. They told me to go to sleep and to call in the morning and let them know if there had been any progress. No progress in the morning so I went to the birth centre and then had to have a CTP scan to check that Chet (or Mr Leapy as he was known then) was ok. Then followed several days of daily trips to the hospital to check on my progress (none) and Mr Leapy's happiness or otherwise (he was fine).

After several days of this we were all pretty sick of it so the decision was made to book an induction. We were offered the Thursday or the Saturday so we took the Saturday in the hope that labour would start by itself. No such luck of course so the cascade of intervention followed from having my waters broken manually, to oxytocin drip, gas, epidural and finally, caesarean. Yowser. Still, I am glad I had those few days to get my head around the fact I was going to be induced and to prepare for the possible intervention that may follow. I think in some ways I was sad for a while regarding the birth as I had hoped for an intervention free birth but now, nearly a year down the track I feel OK about it. I know it is a cliché but I do after all have a happy and healthy baby. And the birth is only a few hours (15 in my case) in the scheme of things.

And, tonight, for the first time, I put my nearly 1 year old to bed without wrapping him. Yeah I know, you are supposed to stop wrapping at some point (I think around 6 months). I started trying to stop and have spent months wrapping only one arm - mainly for my benefit because when I don't wrap he grabs my hair and ears with the unwrapped hand. But, young Chetwin had really been resisting the wrapping in the last few days so I decided that tonight was the night for the wrap to go. And touch wood, it seems to be ok, although I did have to put up with some ear tugging. Hopefully he will sleep better - it would be nice to have a night of him sleeping the whole night - we have had 3 of those so far, and yes I am counting.

Growing up ...

2009-09-22T13:25:00.003+10:00

My little baby is becoming more and more like a little boy. The nearly 12 months of babyhood have flown by and now I have an energetic little man who crawls around at great speed and shrieks with excitement or boredom. Here he is in a Hoodoo Gurus t-shirt bought for him by the K-man, playing with his tambourine. We'll make a musician out of him yet!

Just a minute - August

2009-09-07T19:57:00.004+10:00

Been a bit slack with the blogging of late - no excuse really when I consider how often some blogs are updated. Still, we were away for nearly two weeks in August and I go back to work in a month and I think I have been panicking a bit about that. And I had a cold all last week so doing anything aside from that basics was a bit difficult. Anyway, just a minute for August:

Travelling... to Tasmania and Melbourne - we got to Hobart, Port Arthur, Swansea, Launceston and experienced truly horrendous wind in Melbourne - telegraph pole flattening wind ... we enjoyed being away but we were all pretty pleased to be home as well.

Watching... Chet crawl around the coffee table laughing with excitement. He is just so pleased to be on the move. While we were away his crawling really developed from the commando style he favoured to the more traditional hands and knees crawl. The change seemed to happen almost overnight.

Reading... Holding the Man, Buddhism for Mothers, Lonely Planet Tasmania, Naked Motherhood: Shattering Illusions and Sharing Truths.

Thinking... about returning to work, the past year, the next year.

Eating... a fab lunch at Rockpool Bar and Grill with the K-man, sans Chet. A very pleasant Friday afternoon drinking wine, eating well and relaxing in style.

Buying... fabric, baby clothes from charity shops, 1st birthday presents.

Wanna play? Head on over to August Street.

Barking mad

2009-08-16T10:29:00.005+10:00

Chet and I went to Parramatta Park on Friday to meet up with the Sydney baby wearers. It was a beautiful warm winters day of the kind that Sydney does so well. But, for some reason, some faceless, no doubt male, bureaucrat, had decided that the play area in the park should be covered in bark. I had cleverly dressed Chet in a cream striped shirt. I put him down on the ground and he took off with his speedy commando crawl and spent the entire time covered in bark and dirt and I wasted a lot of time trying to get it off him and me. Here is a picture taken by the lovely Lara Nettle.

The bark made me realise why the park at the end of our street is so popular. It is quite small, at the end of a dead end street and bordered by the old goods line in Dulwich Hill. The play area was renovated a few years ago - before that it was a bit piss weak world - and it has one of the best swings for babies - a bucket all in one swing that holds them in securely. Here is Chet in the swing minus a shoe. The play area in the park is covered in an astro turf sort of material (I don't know the correct name for it) and Chet can crawl around on it quite safely and cleanly. In the afternoons a steady stream of prams and tricycles trickles down our street heading for the park. I go down there most afternoons just to get out of the house and to get Chet out as well. All we need now is for someone to start some sort of summer wine club down there - I think more than a few mothers and fathers would be down there like a shot sipping a cheeky glass of rose or some such watching their kids play and enjoying the surrounds. I suppose alcohol and child wrangling is not something to be encouraged - perhaps I will be the only one down there with a bottle in a brown paper bag taking a few surreptitious swigs?

Just a minute - July

2009-07-31T14:24:00.004+10:00

I saw the Just a Minute meme on Badskirt and thought I would give it a go - a good thing to do on the last day of the month ...

Winning... a crazy fort from KidsStyleFile for doing a survey. I never win anything so this was very exciting. It might be too old for Chet at the moment but that isn't the point.

Learning... about 10 month old baby development, blogging and google analytics.

Seeing... old friends in Brisbane, Pineapples from the Dawn of Time, people in my neighbourhood.

Collecting... fabric from charity shops, baby clothes and toys. The K-man is collecting hornsea mugs and cameras.

Planning... a trip to Tasmania and Melbourne in August, childcare for Chet from October.

Watching... Baby Einstein, The Wire, Flight of the Conchords, The Bill.

Listening... Radio National, Lucinda Williams, Vashti Bunyan.

Reading... info on rheumatoid arthritis, Revolutionary Road, Watermelon: husband in a coma & other setbacks, friend's blogs, the local paper, The Monthly, The Foolish Tortoise.

Making... a mess, corn and polenta muffins.

Thinking... about writing, about blogging, about what to make next, about health and illness.

Walking... round Iron Cove, to Marrickville, to Summer Hill, to the park.

These boots are made for walking ...

2009-07-31T09:25:00.003+10:00

I have been doing a lot of walking of late in a bid to lose weight and get a little bit fit before I go back to work in October. It would be good to fit into those work clothes - I don't fancy having to buy more, at times I resent having a work wardrobe as it is! I either walk around my neighbourhood or I drive to various points around Iron Cove and walk part of what is known locally as the Bay Run.

In the mornings it is beautiful walking around the water and if I time it right Chet will go to sleep straight away which means I don't have to worry about him. Last week I drove to Rodd Point and walked around to the cafe above Drummoyne Pool and had breakfast while Chet slept. He woke up halfway through breakfast and seemed quite happy to take in the view.

I love the Bay Run for its' essential dagginess. I don't look out of place exercising in jeans and a jacket - I just don't seem to own any 'athletic' style clothes aside from yoga clothes and I don't like wearing them in public. I don't own a tracksuit (they make me think of that footage of John Howard goofily stepping out for his morning walk) and I am the woman who climbed a mountain in Pakistan wearing a pair of 70s brown cords, a 70s ski jacket and a pair of blunnies. The exact same outfit I had worn to underground raves in London - it was nothing if not versatile. Whilst in Pakistan I did add a large green scarf that I could use to cover my hair and upper torso if required. On the Bay Run I have seen old men wearing even older suits stepping out around Iron Cove, lots of dog walkers and of course the serious runners and cyclists with all the gear. But it retains the essential inclusiveness of the inner west, there is space for everyone to get out there and enjoy the water, the views and the fine weather.

Happy pills

2009-07-23T14:16:00.005+10:00

I picked up my new lot of thyroid pills from the compounding chemist last week and they were purple. It made my day. Purple makes me happy, so purple pills that also help my thyroid work better have got to be a winner. The old ones were small and white and were slowly making me more and more depressed. Within a day of switching back to the thyroid extract the thin veil of depression that was hovering over my head had just disappeared. It may have been a placebo affect due to me feeling that I was taking control of my body by changing by thyroid medication but I think not.

Here are the purple pills nestling with part of my purple glass collection, purple on purple on purple. Reminds me of that famous poem from the '60s by Jenny Joseph which is actually entitled Warning but starts with "When I am an old woman I shall wear purple". Not only am I collecting purple glass and wearing the occasional bit of purple but I am even swallowing purple pills. Practising to be an eccentric old woman perhaps?

9 months and counting

2009-07-07T10:02:00.003+10:00

Well, Chet has now been out for as long as he was in. 9 months on 5 July. It has gone pretty fast - it seems as though it was summer only yesterday and now here we are in the middle of winter. I saw a photo of myself heavily pregnant yesterday - I was a bit surprised - is that what I looked like? I can scarcely remember. I wonder if other mothers feel like that - maybe that is part of the forgetting that makes woman go back for more - babies I mean!

And, I go back to work in 3 months which is a little bit difficult to get my head around - not the work per se, but the kerfuffle that has to happen before and after work - getting myself and a baby fed and ready for the day and to childcare and then work and doing it all in reverse at the end of the day. I feel exhausted just thinking about it!

Chet really is developing in leaps and bounds now. He has 8 teeth and another one on the way, a head of very blond hair, no skin tag, some excema and possibly some psoriasis, a delightful chuckle and a cheeky look on his face a lot of the time. He has recently mastered a kind of one armed commando shuffle which appears to use a lot of energy for not a lot of reward but is surprisingly effective - he can get across the lounge room floor pretty fast that's for sure. He can launch himself out of his bumbo and laughs when he does. In fact, he laughs at most things - he certainly doesn't take life too seriously - he would get that from the K-man I think. The K-man was changing him this morning and he farted on the change table and burst into laughter - fart jokes appeal to all ages apparently. It might be time to get out that whoopie cushion!

Chet is also very determined - if he sees something he wants he really tries to go for it - the K-man claims that this comes from me. He loves going to the park - he particularly loves the swing and in general seems quite fearless - something that could be a concern later on but at the moment is quite nice to watch. He is happy to be passed around, loves going out and meeting new people, doesn't mind staying up at all and is generally pretty good fun to be around. And, he doesn't seem to be shy at all - maybe that will develop later on but at the moment he seems to be a happy, confident, outgoing little boy. I don't think we can take credit for this - it just seems to be the way he is. We cater to his needs of course - ensuring he is fed and changed and loved and that he sleeps but otherwise it feels as though he is on his own path and developing in his own way at his own pace. Remarkable really, sometimes I just look at him in wonder - it doesn't seem real that we produced this perfect human being ...

It's my thyroid

2009-07-06T14:45:00.005+10:00

For a couple of years now every time I have had some kind of health issue I have blamed my thyroid - and it is true, my thyroid has been responsible for weight gain, excessive tiredness, hair thinning, eyebrow thinning (bizarrely), brain fog, dry skin and possibly some of the aches and pains I have had in my wrists and feet. But now, joy oh rapture, I possibly have another autoimmune disease to add to the mix - rheumatoid arthritis (RA).

I saw a rheumatologist last week who said that she thought that there was probably some kind of autoimmune thing going on with me and that it was probably rheumatoid arthritis. They don't like to go out on a limb diagnosing these things unnecessarily which I guess is fair enough. Better to err on the side of caution than to diagnose prematurely. However, the pains I have had in my hands and feet would indicate RA as would a range of other things including having had a miscarriage. So perhaps I have been unfair in blaming my thyroid.

So, two chronic illness which basically involve the body attacking itself. Hashimoto's thyroiditis is where the body attacks the thyroid and with RA the body attacks the lining of the joints. With autoimmune disease, for some reason, something causes the immune system to see the body's own tissues as foreign invaders. In pregnancy, the immune system is suppressed so that the body doesn't attack the baby and I think that this is why I felt so good when I was pregnant as my immune system also wasn't attacking my thyroid. And I guess why I have been feeling fairly crappy of late - my immune system has kicked into overdrive. The RA symptoms started appearing about 2 months after Chet was born - apparently not uncommonly with this form of arthritis.

So, I am trying to work out a personal plan of attack for this without feeling too depressed about it all. It is fairly tedious and I certianly don't want it to be the only thing I can think about. I have a small boy to attend to and I would rather be enjoying watching him grow up and experience the world than thinking about how my hands hurt. None of this is a death sentence and really just needs to be managed effectively but some days are better than others that's for sure. Some nights I can hardly pick Chet up and some mornings when I get up all I can manage is a particularly attractive crone-like shuffle. However, at this stage it is not debilitating and I hope that it won't be. So, back to acupuncture and a wheat-free diet for me. Possibly a dairy free diet (luckily I have been eating a lot of cheese lately, hopefully I won't miss it too much). It is time, in the words of my favourite thyroid blog, to kick the arse of this godamn immune system.

She sews ...

2009-06-25T13:44:00.006+10:00

It's been a bit crafty round here lately. Months ago now I finally had my sewing machine serviced. Would you believe that Dulwich Hill, once featured in the travel section of the New York Times, has a sewing machine repair shop? I didn't but there it was, on New Canterbury Road, staffed by a very helpful woman who admired Chet and helped me get the serviced machine out to my car.

My grandmother gave me my sewing machine 20 years ago when I finished school and it has been good to me over the years. It has however been sadly neglected of late - the last thing I made was a curtain for the K-man when he lived in a skungy share house quite a while back. And, after it was serviced, it sat in the hall for a while, gathering dust, along with an amp, baby clothes to be passed on and growing piles of fabric and jars. Last weekend, I finally got around to setting it up on the dining room table and going through my fabric. I managed to make a bib pattern from a bib I had and then made two bibs using a funky piece of atomic bark cloth and some red towelling. Here they are with the K-man's crossword.

Then, whist flicking through the Meet Me At Mikes book I found a pattern for baby yoga pants and decided that Chet really needed a pair of bright red towelling pants, so I made them as well. And don't they look fab? They make me smile every time I see them because they are kind of silly and because the fabric is very forgiving of my rusty sewing. And they are toasty warm. So, since I was on a roll, I found some orange and white animal print fabric and made a pair of pants out of that as well.

Here are all my crafty efforts together. After months of reading crafty blogs it was very exciting to actually get it together and craft something myself. And I have to say, baby clothes very easy to make as they are small and it doesn't matter so much if they don't work out as well as they might. Next up, something for me although the K-man was asking if I could make him a pair of inside trousers like Chet's animal print pants. Unfortunately I don't have enough of that fabric to make him a matching pair but I am sure I can rustle something up - hopefully in time for summer.

Prearicular tags

2009-06-18T13:58:00.004+10:00

Chet went to hospital yesterday to have a prearicular tag removed from his right ear. Here is a picture of it taken when we were in hospital just after he was born. It was basically a smallish extraneous bit of skin, a skin tag situated near the tragus - coincidentally, in a similar spot to where I used to have a piercing. While it was quite cute and certainly set him apart from the rest it was indeed extraneous and the decision was made to remove it.

Apparently, in the embryo, the ear develops at the same time as the kidneys which means that there can be a very small chance of kidney problems with prearicular tags so Chet had had to have a renal ultrasound a while back. All was fine so he was then referred to a paediatric surgeon at the Sydney Children's Hospital who looked at it, said that he could we could either hold Chet down then and there and tie it off but that would hurt him quite a bit or we could have it removed surgically under general anaesthetic. We opted for the latter - I wasn't really up for holding Chet down while he was manhandled.

So, as instructed we turned up at the hospital yesterday at 7am. Chet had to fast and had had nothing to eat or drink since 2am. He was pretty cheery considering - he rolled around in his hospital cot wearing his tiny hospital gown grinning and gurgling at anyone who came his way. This was in direct contrast to some of the other children at the hospital who were there for much more serious complaints. Someone the K-man knew was in our ward with his little girl who was going to be there for 5 days, having a tumour removed, followed by chemo. I felt almost embarrassed to have Chet there so obviously well and happy and only in hospital for a few hours for what was really a very minor operation. And, all in all, Chet was a little trouper. I went into surgery with him and was there while they administered the anaesthetic which he really didn't like but he went under pretty quickly. I was then escorted to a waiting area where the K-man and I waited until the surgery was done and he woke up. We then went to the recovery area where we found a very unhappy little boy, which apparently is normal after anaesthetic. I fed him and we went back to the ward where he was observed for a while to make sure there were no side affects and then we were discharged at 11am.

A pretty short and smooth hospital visit I have to say. I was prepared to be there all day so we were happy with the whole process. Chet now has a dressing on his ear, with 3 internal stitches and a small bruise on his hand where the cannula was inserted but otherwise seems none the worse for wear. And I feel grateful to have a well and happy little boy.

Tripping the light fantastic

2009-06-10T13:59:00.003+10:00

On Monday we managed to get to an event in the city. This may not seem like such an achievement but even before Chet we would often see an ad for an exhibition or some such and talk about it, discuss going and then just not make it as the time didn't seem to be quite right. Somehow the winds of fate managed to get us into the city just before dark which meant that we could actually view the Light Walk exhibition as part of the Vivid Sydney Festival.

We had been out and about with Chet and he had fallen asleep in the car and so we had been driving around aimlessly while he slept. He woke up late afternoon so we headed to the Rocks, parked and loaded Chet into the stroller, feeling like bad parents as we didn't have a hat for him and it was quite cold. I spent the rest of the evening looking for other babies without hats so I wouldn't feel quite so bad about being disorganised. Still, we did have a blanket (only because it lives in the stroller) and he was quite rugged up so we thought he could cope with being out in the cold night air. And, it seems to be part and parcel of how we tend to do things - spur of the moment, a bit half-arsed and with not enough planning - I guess Chet had better get used to it.

Anyway, we wandered down past the observatory towards Circular Quay to look for a convivial bar to have a cheeky glass of wine before it got dark and the lights were all turned on ... and then we remembered we were in Sydney. We headed Number One wine bar as I had just read Tori's post on it and the K-man had delivered stuff there for his work, but since it was Monday it was closed. So we ended up at the downstairs bar of the Overseas Passenger Terminal complex which has all the ambience of a toilet block but we managed to get seating inside so Chet could be out of the cold and we did have a good view of the light show on the Opera House. I had an average glass of rose, the K-man had a schmiddy of Asahi but Chet laughed in delight when we gave him a couple of coasters to play with so it wasn't all in vain. We watched the light show over the Opera House, then walked up to the MCA to see the light show there which I have to say I enjoyed more than the Opera House lights. Then up through the Rocks to see the lights on the Argyle Cut and an installation of lights in empty bottles wandered back to the car and headed off home. It was fun taking Chet out and he coped pretty well with it all so we shall certainly have to have more outings with him.

Choking

2009-06-03T12:52:00.004+10:00

I am not sure what is going on but there have been a few choking incidents round here. Yesterday I took Chet to a local music playgroup at the Salvation Army. I know, what was I thinking? I don't do religion and I also don't really do organised activities. But, I thought Chet might enjoy it and I had heard positive things about it so I thought we would give it a go. It seems that yesterday was particularly crowded due to an abundance of birthdays - if your child goes during their birthday week they get a cup cake and a present. So, even though I am not really big with crowds we stayed put. The songs were ok, aside from the religious ones, although they were led by a slightly earnest woman with a strained smile and a Madonna style microphone on her head. I can't saw I was that excited by her delivery, or by the anti-abortion leaflets scattered about the place. However, Chet seemed to enjoy himself at the beginning - I don't think he had seen so many kids in one place before - I am not sure I had either. He participated in some of the songs, stood up and shrieked and waved his arms around at appropriate moments and continued practising his raspberry noises. He was a little overwhelmed by the end of the music so we ended up sitting at the back of the room so he could calm down a little bit. After the music, there was a table of food for the kiddies so I propelled myself into the shit fight to get Chet some fruit which he then proceeded to choke on. It was my fault, the piece of rockmelon was too big - I should have cut it in half for him. He went bright red, couldn't breathe, I had to turn him upside down and hit him on the back and he coughed and vomited up the rockmelon all over me. I was sitting near some people who saw all this happen and didn't come to my aid which upset me a little bit. Chet cried afterwards but seemed to recover ok.

And then, this morning, who should be choking on the rest of her breakfast but the Minx. She was crouched in the kitchen making an awful retching noise. The retching noise seemed to clear whatever it was that was blocking her windpipe and she drank some water and retired to the couch.

I shouldn't really be surprised by all this choking - I constantly choke myself. In my first year at college I think I choked on my food almost every day, although that may say more about the quality of the food than my ability to eat successfully. I have choked on water, on air, on food, on nothing. I don't know what it is, I think I just forget what I am doing or something and suddenly I am gasping and I can't breathe. When I was pregnant I coughed so much after choking on some water that my nose bled. Now, that's a skill. I have a similar problem with walking sometimes, I will be merrily walking down the street and then suddenly I am on the ground having tripped over my own feet or the footpath or a leaf. I hope Chet doesn't choke too much, it really is quite upsetting seeing your baby go red in the face like that. And, I hope he doesn't inherit my lack of ability to walk down the street (a trait inherited from my father) ... time will tell I guess.

Let her eat cake

2009-05-29T09:05:00.003+10:00

Last week the Minx was caught eating blueberries off a cake. I had had a burst of energy and had made a pear and blueberry cake (or tart I guess) and the K-man had left it on the dining room table while he prepared dinner. He looked up and there was the Minx, standing next to the cake, having taken a bite out of it, with a blueberry hanging out of her mouth. Fortunately for her we found it so amusing we couldn't discipline her (which is quite impossible to do anyway). We just laughed. And it was only a small bite.

Less amusing was the afternoon I sat down on the lounge to feed Chet and looked over to the coffee table to see a small pellety cat poo nestling next to the TV guide. The Minx has a problem with follow-through when using her kitty litter and on occasion sprints off with the final product still hanging out of her bum. Charming I know. Fortunately it doesn't happen very often. All I can think is that perhaps she is preparing me for toilet training.

She's a pusskin

2009-05-19T11:10:00.005+10:00

I haven't written about the much loved fourth member of the household - our lovely little black and moggy, Minx. Not a day goes by when we don't remark: "she's a pusskin" or "that Minx". And, she really is a Minx. We think she has a lot of personality, although she tends to keep it (and herself) hidden when there are visitors. She is a bit hopeless - she doesn't realise that she can go to the toilet outside and comes rushing in to use the kitty litter, she hasn't grasped the rudimentary laws of physics and as a result cannot open a door by hooking her paw around it and pulling it towards her (her technique is to fling herself on the floor in front of the door, often hitting her head on the floor in the process), and she has a tendency to play with her food, especially chicken which she likes to flick around the dining room. She is our first baby, we got her as a kitten from the Cat Protection Society the day after Kevin Rudd was elected in November 2007. She ended up getting very sick with cat flu in the first week we had her and we seriously thought she was going to die. We had grave reservations about our ability to look after a baby if we couldn't even look after a kitten for a week. Fortunately she pulled through although she often has sneezing fits and I think is a little bit stunted from being so sick when she was so young.

Minx wasn't too keen on Chet's arrival - every time I came home with him in the capsule she would look at me as if to say: "you brought him back again" but now she likes him although she does run away if he gets a bit too boisterous. Chet on the other hand, loves her and gets very excited whenever he see her - kicking his legs furiously and grinning madly. Minx only jumped in his cot once and that was in a bid to get me out of bed to feed her one weekend when the K-man was away. Quite clever really, she knew that the best way to get my attention was to do something to Chet and jumping in the cot was quite inspired as I got out of bed pretty quick smart to get her out of there. She's a pusskin ...

The Slap

2009-05-18T13:30:00.006+10:00

My concentration seems to have improved and I have finally managed to do some reading. In the past couple of weeks have read both The Slap and Loaded by Christos Tsiolkas. It was interesting to read his first and latest novels in this way and to compare the differences between them. Loaded was a Ulysses-esque day and night in the life of a young gay-ish Greek boy from Melbourne. It was an angry, uncompromising drug fueled sex romp through the homes and streets and clubs of early 90s inner city Melbourne. I liked it and am not sure why I didn't read it when it first came out. I could certainly relate to a lot of it, although my early 90s experience was in Brisbane. The Slap on the other hand was more assured, more adult, not so angry but equally uncompromising in its' own way. The sex and drugs are both still there and I was pleased to see the teenage characters going to parties and the Big Day Out and getting wasted just as the young and the not so young are wont to do.

The premise was interesting - the accounts of the lives of eight people who were present at a bbq where an angry man slaps a badly behaved 3 year old child who is not his own. The ruminations on marriage and family and parenting really spoke to me and certainly as a new parent it provided a lot to think about. Some critics have mentioned that the characters are not terribly likeable but I think that misses the point and that most of us wouldn't come across as terribly likeable if all of our inner thoughts were revealed in the way that Tsiolkas reveals the thoughts of these characters. I thought it was pretty true to life. I liked the structure although I wanted to read more about Gary, the alcoholic father of Hugo, the boy who was slapped. And, for a sleep deprived mama it was a pretty easy quick read. I bought it on Thursday and finished it on Saturday night, happy to return to my old habit of gorging on a book, reading it at every spare moment until it is finished. And I heard on the news yesterday that Tsiolkas won the Commonwealth Writers' Prize for The Slap - well deserved I reckon.

Not drowning waving

2009-05-08T14:25:00.004+10:00

Chet's latest accomplishment is waving, manically, to everything in sight. In the last couple of days I have come across him waving to the fridge, the lounge, the wall and the light fittings. He does on occasion also wave to animate objects such as the cat or the K-man or me but it seems to be a wave of hello, I am here, rather than a goodbye wave which is the more traditional wave. Sometimes it is as though he is waving to an imaginary legion of adoring fans - perhaps it is a nod to the inner performer AKA the K-man, or perhaps he just likes waving.

The waving comes after what feels like months of concentrated hand watching. Chet would be in the middle of something when he would suddenly stop and stare, transfixed at his hands, waving them around in wonder like a microdot casualty from the 80s. It is a sight to behold and I am pretty sure it is one of the reasons he wakes up at night - just so he can look at his hands. But for now waving takes priority.

Other newish skills including getting around the lounge room floor in a kind of commando roll; lying on his back and kicking vigorously whilst holding a maraca and grinning manically; and opening his mouth obediently while waiting for one of us to place a spoonful of food in it. He also now has 5 teeth - two in the middle on the top and two in the middle on the bottom and one eye tooth on the top - with another on its' way through. He remains a happy smiley soul and is more and more fun to spend time with. I truly can't complain.

More what do you do all day ...

2009-05-04T10:53:00.003+10:00

Just saw this and thought it apt, and interesting.

TELL ME ABOUT IT: Why don't friends with kids have time

I guess a lot of people can relate. Makes me realise how much life has changed, and will continue to change. We went to the park yesterday, all three of us and the K-man, whilst observing several little boys tear about the place, commented that Chet is quite easy to deal with at the moment, which is true. He can't quite crawl yet so is still pretty portable and easy to manage. I just know that once he gets going he will be unstoppable, not unlike my brother who was doing things like crashing my mother's car aged 3 - oh the things I have to look forward to.

Charity begins at home

2009-04-29T13:25:00.006+10:00

One of the joys for me of not working is being able to trawl charity shops in search of bargains. At the moment I am mainly drawn to crockery, fabric and children's clothing. And of course the odd brightly coloured 70s polyester garment for me. My charity shopping fetish began when I was 15 and living in north Queensland with very little money but a great desire to stand out from the crowd. Oh the things I found - a beautiful handmade maroon velvet coat with tartan lining for 50 cents - which I still have - not to mention a range of fantastic 60s frocks and other delights. The joys of country town charity shopping. On Monday I was a bit sick with a cold (not swine flu) and I had lost my voice but needed to get out of the house. So, Chet and I rugged up and set off for the local Salvos. Here we are - Chet in the pikkolo with his hoody on and me resplendent with bad hair and a pimple.

At the charity shop I found a blue hand knitted children's jumper and some fantastic 60s/70s Japanese soup bowls. One matches the K-man's coffee cup and the other two have the words soup and crackers written all over them. And, only 50cents each. My heart soared - I was very excited indeed and almost forgot I was incredibly sleep deprived and couldn't speak. The jumper was sent to a friend for her baby as I had bought something similar last week and the soup bowls came home with me. Here they are, and also a pic with the K-man's coffee cup. Now I just have to get the bamix out and make lots of lovely thick wintery soup.

Another musical Chet

2009-04-08T21:38:00.003+10:00

I saw the fabulous Lucinda Williams last night, and whilst trying to stay awake and not annoy my friends with my yawning I discovered that a member of her backing band is called Chet. Apparently he is guitarist and keyboard player Jeff "Chet" Lyster, ex Eels. I am collecting musical Chets now - it seems they are multiplying. I was discussing this with the K-man tonight - what comes first - the name or the musical ability? Can you name a child to be musical? I would think not, probably says more about the interests etc of the parents. Oh and Lucinda was fantastic, and her rendition of 'It's a long way to the top' a fine way to end the night. I didn't get a sausage roll though.

What do you do all day?

2009-04-02T14:54:00.004+11:00

A friend, who doesn't have children, asked me the other day how I spent my days and I have to say I was at a bit of a loss for an answer. And, it is not as though I do nothing, it is just that what I do do is so prosaic that it is hard to put into words. And it is funny, most people don't ask you what you do all day when you have a job and that can be just as hard to articulate. I guess for me, having a baby means that your work is now spread out (not necessarily evenly) over a twenty-four hour period whereas if you are working your work is 9 to 5 and you might fit in a bit of housework on the weekend. I think that the K-man thinks I don't do much at work as I tend to work at a desk and a computer whereas his work is more physical and tangible. I know, however, that he is a bit more aware that being at home with a baby is work. He certainly hasn't dared to ask me what I do all day, or demand I get on with the housework etc.

So, what do I do all day? Well in any 24 hour period there can be between 6 to 10 breastfeeds. That takes some time. Then there is the settling and the putting to bed. Certainly in the early days I felt as though I was always putting Chet to bed and it is definitely one of the things that I find a bit tedious - it happens at least three times a day and doesn't always work on the first go so a fair amount of time is spent rocking and wrapping and replacing the dummy. And now Chet is on solids (stupid word really, it certainly doesn't mean the food which is mush, perhaps it is referring to the output which is certainly more 'solid') there are two meals a day, working up to three. Plus there is the making of the food, freezing mushy leftovers into ice cube trays and putting it in little plastic containers. I quite like doing this, but it also takes time.

Then, there seems to be quite a lot of buckling - not to mention buckling under the strain at times. Buckling him into his chair so he doesn't rock himself out of it and do himself a damage, buckling him into his car seat and then unbuckling him at the other end. Buckling him into his pram or his stroller and unbuckling him several times during that particular expedition ... and on it goes.

And of course, the perennial nappy changes which I don't actually mind but they can take up some time, especially if he decides to wee on you while you are in the middle of it. Hmm, then there seems to be a lot of rubbish to take out and endless loads of washing (and I don't even have a chucker) and other bits of housework. And because you are home all day there is plenty of time to notice how dirty the house is and to dirty it some more. The K-man likes to leave crumbs about the place, the Minx leaves cat fur everywhere and don't get me started on the dust.

In between these chores I like to play with my baby, take him for walks, talk to him and read to him. Oh and sleep needs to be slotted in somehow as well.

Not that I am complaining mind, I quite like being at home and being able to potter about and go shopping during the day when it isn't crowded and to walk slowly and look at other people's gardens. And getting out and about with a baby is fun - people stop and talk to Chet and he grins madly at them. A couple of weeks ago an old man gave me some wild flowers he had picked down by the old freight train line and stood and admired Chet for a while. I feel more engaged with my local neighbourhood and life feels as though it is progressing at a more leisurely pace. It is like a brief time out from the world of work and catching trains and rushing about. In fact, I would have to say I am quite enjoying it.

Furry paws

2009-03-17T16:15:00.004+11:00

Mamma Mogantosh got me thinking about the way families develop their own language or shorthand. I always felt that perhaps my family had more of this than a lot of families, but perhaps I am mistaken. It also seems as though the K-man's family is big on having a private language. Now that I think about it, in my family, it was a particularly private language, which excluded others and could at times be quite claustrophobic. Perhaps it was cemented by the process of immigration, I'm not sure. And, I am never sure if the sayings that my father has are things he has made up or things that were common in Zimbabwe from the 30s to the 80s or sayings he acquired from his Scottish father. What this means is that the K-man and I are now busily inventing our own language, perhaps as a form of family creation. So, no doubt when Chet starts school he will be well versed in the language of MacLean-James which will prepare him for, well, nothing at all, apart from being able to communicate with his family. Hopefully.

Our language is not as developed as the Mogantosh's but I am sure, that given time, it will blossom into a veritable bed of thorny roses. At the moment, babies are referred to as leapys, Chet has paws and footskas and furs (although not furry paws at this stage) and he has just grown two tooffles and likes to suck on his dum dum. He wears clothses and he communes daily with the pusskin who in turn is a rooster girl. Whenever Chet is hungry he is a hungry hungry hippo and whenever he rolls over he is doing a roly poly. And he seems to have quite a collection of funts (elephants) in all shapes and sizes. I can see looking at this selection that some of the phrases are from my family, some from the K-man's and some are our own creation - just like Chet I guess.

Morning tea

2009-03-13T09:59:00.008+11:00

One of the nice things about being at home is having a break for morning tea. I had a coffee ritual at work as well, which was more about leaving my desk for a while to go off on a coffee run. At home it is about sitting down and reflecting on the night before and the day ahead. I do this most mornings, at any time between 9 and 11, depending on when Chet is feeding and when he is sleeping. I like the ritual of tea in a tea pot and I love little plates and tea cups. Here is one of my morning teas - coffee and chocolate biscuits.

And, another nice thing about being home seems to be an increased desire to bake. I have been baking some polenta, cheese and corn muffins of late and here they are, with a pot of earl grey tea and beautiful crockery.

Toowoomba city here we come ...

2009-02-25T16:15:00.005+11:00

Chet and I went to Toowoomba for a week to visit my parents. Anyone who knows me will know that I tend to find any extended time spent with my parents slightly stressful and this trip was no exception. The main difference was that I had a small baby who needed my attention I wasn't so caught up in the drama that is my parents. That said, there was plenty to keep us entertained - my Dad checking the stock market every hour and getting upset every time it went down, which was every time he checked it; my mother worrying about the price of cat food - a worry that had previously been purely my father's domain; and I got into trouble for not putting the car into 5th gear when I took it 10ks down the road - apparently this wastes petrol. Still, Chet was adored by all and had a wonderful time. He mostly rolled around on a picnic blanket on the floor and played with his squeaky pirate, book and monkey and looked at Snout the cat with interest. He got to put his feet on grass for the first time and was only really upset when I left him with my mother for half an hour to get a facial. He seemed to cope pretty well with flying - he was asleep for take-off both times and he slept in a family cot that apparently my mother and her siblings had slept in as well as my brother.

After spending time with my family I always need to debrief and no one truly understands what I am talking about more than my brother. This was reiterated for me by Judith Lucy, who's The Lucy Family Alphabet I read while I was away. In amongst the tales of bad behaviour and amusing anecdotes she makes an interesting point about siblings: "No-one understands your parents or your childhood experience like a fellow sibling." It got me thinking about families and wondering how Chet is going to experience our family. And if he doesn't have a sibling (and it is quite likely he won't) who is going to understand what he is talking about? Hopefully my brother will be there for him in the same way my aunt was there for me when I needed to talk about my family experiences and hopefully he won't need to debrief too much after spending time with us. Time will only tell I guess.

Deep in a dream ...

2009-02-05T12:49:00.006+11:00

I am currently reading Deep in a dream: the long night of Chet Baker, a bio of Chet Baker which I like to think is baby related as we partly got Chet from Chet Baker. Chet Baker's Chet is from Chesney however, whereas our Chet is from Chetwin. I hope there are other differences as well - Chet Baker was a junkie and lived quite a sad life, dying in suspicious circumstances in Amsterdam in 1988. Coincidentally, he had a daughter called Melissa and was apparently a beautiful square jawed blond man - and of course I hope that Chet will be similarly attractive.

And of course we both hope that Chet will be musically talented like Chet Baker. If he is it wouldn't be from my side of the family - we are musically challenged although my mother told me recently that a great great uncle was a music academic in Scotland. That, however, is the only musical relative I know of. The K-man's family however is musically gifted - he plays bass, his brother plays guitar, his sister sings and plays sax, his grandmother played the piano in church, his nephew plays drums ... and so on it goes.

Chet Atkins is another musician called Chet - his Chet comes from Chester. And the K-man has a friend in Perth called Chet who is also a musician - in a band called the Early Hours. Seems as though Chet is a musical name - let's hope Chet can live up to his musical heritage ...

Look mum no hands ...

2009-01-27T14:09:00.005+11:00

Chet has discovered his feet, which is not surprising, given the size of them! They are miniature versions of my father's feet and are not small at all. Dad has a size 11 foot which was massive in his generation, so I am guessing that Chet's feet will be at least that large if not larger, given that kids seem to be getting bigger with each subsequent generation. Chet is constantly playing with his clodhoppers which can make nappy changes difficult, but seems to amuse him more than a lot of his toys do. He can also put his big toe in his mouth, just.

Other new found skills include reaching out for things, helping you pick him up by lifting his bum in the air (sometimes this isn't so helpful) and occasionally sleeping through the night. He also doesn't seem to collect fluff between his fingers and toes (an early skill) and he generally doesn't vomit which is good. That said he had a little cough-up this morning, I believe these are called 'possets' - one of those words that isn't onomatopoeic at all - it sounds a bit twee for what is essentially a little vomit. Chet can also put his dummy back in his mouth and occasionally chuck it on the floor. And, he can on occasion, roll, although he isn't too sure of this one and seems very surprised when he does it. We are also treated to many smiles and sometimes laughter. He seems to think most things are very amusing, especially anything the K-man does and bursts into smiles and giggles any time the K-man even says the word 'Daddy'.

Seems we have a happy little chappy on our hands which is nice, although it does come as a bit of a shock if he isn't happy for whatever reason. We have had a couple of quite long screaming episodes where I can't quite work out what the problem is after I have fed and changed him - all I can come up with is that it is either teeth or tummy which I suppose it is but it is hard when he can't tell me what is wrong. Fortunately we don't have too many of these episodes.

We all breathe a sigh of relief

2009-01-14T12:38:00.007+11:00

The holiday break is now well and truly over and we have all breathed a sigh of relief. The K-man went back to work today, the Minx is lounging on the outdoor table under the umbrella, Chet is happily playing with his feet in his chair and I feel that I can finally think clearly. The house is not resonating with the sound of the Family Guy on high rotation and the computer is all mine again. The Christmas/New Year period was good but pretty full on - lots of lunches and bbqs with Chet in tow - he was pretty good about being carted around here there and everywhere and didn't disgrace himself ... much. We had high-tea at the Sheraton, lunch at the Drummoyne Sailing Club, bbqs and drinks at friends places as well as a couple of overnight trips away from home. Here is Chet, asleep in his capsule on a friend's kitchen table surrounded by bottles of wine and corn chips - a sign of things to come perhaps?

In retrospect we probably took on too much over the break and the planned 4 days at Mollymook turned into three when we found ourselves in a house with 9 adults, 4 kids and 4 dogs, a highly overstimulated Chet, not much sleep for us or him - it was a recipe for disaster really. Still you don't know until you try and it could all be different next time we take him away. I got in some lovely swims at the beach though. We did try and take Chet swimming in a pool on boxing day but the water was quite cold and as soon as we put his feet in the water he screamed and held his feet as close to his body as he could! So, not wanting to traumatise him I didn't put him in the pool any further. We also tried giving him a cold bath in the backyard on one of the very hot days we had last week - he screamed blue murder and was very upset, even when we put warm water in. He might have inherited his father's dislike of cold water.

The K-man and I even managed a couple of meals out sans Chet. The K-man took me to dinner at Aria as a 'giving birth' treat and what a delightful meal it was. We got the summer tasting menu - K-man with wine, me without - and the sommelier gave me a couple of sneaky glasses of wine anyway. It was all wonderfully light and summery. Chet was looked after by his girlfriends in Surry Hills - they love looking after him and when we dropped him off he was asleep - although not for long as they poked and prodded him until he woke up! He also had some 'pants off' time during which Assy took photos of his nether regions until her mother told her to stop and she went off upstairs to sulk. We also had an anniversary lunch at the Bentley Restaurant and Bar - a very different venue to the one I used to frequent when I first came to Sydney in the mid-90s - then it was pretty grungy and feral, full of hippies, dreadlocks, dogs, flannel shirts and always joints being passed around the pool table. Now it is casual but elegant, with a wide range of wines and tapas on hand. No pool table and no joints either! We had the tasting menu and asked the sommelier to recommend appropriate wines for us; I had a lovely pinot noir which lasted me through the entire meal, the K-man had the pinot and a heavier Spanish red as well as a cognac to finish. All in all very pleasant. Chet was looked by after by friends at home this time and apparently he managed to hold his bottle all by himself - which is a first, although I never seem him drink from a bottle as that always happens when I am out or away from him for some reason.

I managed to get a few things down around the house - re-potting plants, endless washing, sorting out Chet's corner, getting rid of maternity clothes and winter baby clothes and generally enjoying the warm weather. I hung some curtains in the kitchen that I have been meaning to get to for well over a year and enjoyed a gin and tonic most evenings - just after a feed of course. I even read a novel - note just the one. Most summer holidays ever since I can remember I sit down and plough though a novel a day for a couple of weeks - this time I managed only, Vertigo by Amanda Lohrey. And it is a novella. Very good though, beautifully written and sad in parts as well. I also managed a story by David Foster Wallace - I felt the need to look into his writing after his untimely death last year. His story, A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again about a week long all-expenses paid trip on a luxury cruise, funded by Harper's Magazine was laugh out loud funny (I doubt Foster Wallace would have approved of acronyms such as LOL, neither does Hank Moody in Californication but I digress) - very droll and dry and serious at the same time. I hope to finish a few more of his stories this year and perhaps even tackle Infinite Jest - I realise that may be a little ambitious with a small baby but who knows?

Now we can look forward to settling into a routine of sorts - mothers group, walking, yoga, lunches and trips to the library - I think a quiet life for a little while will be good for all of us.

Skills ...

2008-11-24T16:49:00.005+11:00

I was asked yesterday what Chet's skills were and like a proud mother I thought I would note down what they are at 7 weeks and again at various intervals. That way I can observe his development and keep track of changes as he grows. So, 7 week skills:

Smiling - this is a good one. He has been smiling for a few weeks now and it really is very exciting when he breaks into a big, goofy toothless grin.
Blowing bubbles - this is quite new, maybe just the last week. I guess it is a precursor to dribbling. Better get those bibs out.
Sticking his tongue out - this has also been going on for a little while now. He will stick his tongue out if I persistently stick mine out at him or sometimes he just sits there continually sticking his tongue out.
Cooing - he mostly does this when he is in the shower with the K-man. Very sweet - I cried the first time we put him in the shower - he loved it so much and looked so happy.
Wiggling and squirming - this is a skill that started in the womb - hence the initial moniker of Mr Leapy. It does not seem to have abated any.
Throwing his arms in the air. I call it his black power salute because he often looks as though he is saluting me with his right arm. Sometimes he doesn't quite make the salute and wacks himself in the face instead. Mostly this doesn't seem to worry him.
Weeing and pooing - like all babies he is a champion at these basic human functions. And like all boy babies he ocassionally wees across the room or on me when I am changing his nappy.
Sucking on his dummy - he was a little over a week old when we got him his dummy and it made the world of difference after a particulalry bad night of screaming. Even in the hospital I was saying that I thought he might need a dummy and I wasn't wrong. Although he doesn't always want it he loves his dummy and can get very crochety if I am driving and it falls out and I can't get it back in his mouth. I often find it under his ear which isn't really the best place for it. And it is quite amusing when after a period of time of sitting quietly he suddenly starts sucking really hard on the dummy - it must be some sort of comfort sucking! He also likes to suck noisily on his fist - he often wakes me up with the sound of the sucking. Presumably at some stage the fist will replace the dummy ...

Things I learnt about birth

2008-11-18T13:49:00.005+11:00

Giving birth is not like a car crash. I encountered a woman at a party a week before I had Chet and she was at great pains to tell me her birth theory. "It's like a car crash" she repeated to me ad nauseum in the way that drunk people tell you the same thing over and over in the hope that it will get more interesting with repetition. My instant response to her was that a car crash is quick whereas giving birth generally takes a long time and is more of an endurance test. After giving birth you may feel as though you have been in a car crash but that is not the same as birth being like a car crash. Not the same at all. I encountered the same woman four weeks after Chet was born and she rushed up to me to repeat her theory. All I could do was smile weakly and look for an excuse to end the conversation.
Midwives are quite different. During my 15 hour labour I encountered three midwives in the labour ward and they all had very different approaches. Then once I was in the maternity ward I encountered many more midwives and they also seemed to be quite different. I count myself lucky though in that they were all pretty good aside from the third midwife who assisted during my labour and the final midwife I dealt with before I left hospital. The labour midwife had an unfortunate manner and I didn't really like her - although at the end of labour I might not have liked anyone - and the midwife sorting out my discharge from hospital was really trying to rush me out the door. She also barged in on me when I was in the bathroom and wanted to argue with me when I repeated to her things that other midwives had told her. She also kept me waiting for half an hour with a screaming baby when all I needed was some formula. Still, other people have had horror stories so I can't really complain.
A room to yourself in hospital is fantastic. Somehow I ended up with my own room which meant I had a lot of privacy and also that the K-man could stay over night and help out with Chet. He complained vociferously about the comfort (or lack thereof) of the fold-out bed but it made a big differenced to have him there.
The public health system is actually pretty good (in the inner-west at least). I was booked into the Birth Centre and wasn't able to give birth there due to the fact that I had to be induced, however the room I had in the Labour Ward was large and comfortable and had a huge bathroom (like the Birth Centre). I felt pretty well looked after during the entire process.
It is best not to have too many pre-conceived notions as to what kind of birth you might have. I didn't have a birth plan as I thought that it was all a bit unknown and I was right. I was disappointed not give birth in the Birth Centre and I really didn't want a caesarean but I had resigned myself to the fact that an induction could very well lead to one - which was indeed the case for me. I had my membranes broken at 8am, then one and a half hours later was induced via an oxytocin drip, then gas, then epidural, then caesar with Chet being delivered at 1.30am the next day. It really was a cascade of intervention which I believe is not uncommon. I realised that I didn't know that much about caesareans which was a little unfortunate. The books I read tended to gloss over the details, such as, with an epidural and a caesar they cut you open and physically push the baby out and although you can't feel pain you can feel the sensation of the cutting and the pushing. Still, giving birth vaginally can also be problematic - tears, episiotomies, forceps etc - so it is best to be prepared.

Things I learnt during pregnancy

2008-11-14T12:23:00.004+11:00

It is true, random people do like to feel your stomach. It didn't happen as often as I thought it might and the most annoying incident involved a member of staff from a local fruit shop who followed me into the shop when he saw I was pregnant, initiated a conversation about the pregnancy and made a grab for my belly. On the other hand, most people, especially people I knew, asked me if they could 'cop a feel' as it were. I didn't mind if it was someone I knew but I did draw the line at strangers making a grab for me.
People generally offered me a seat on public transport and it was mostly young people who did the seat offering.
Pregnant women are public property so people feel free to make comments on your weight gain, how well or otherwise you look, whether you should be driving, walking or generally getting on with your life. This can be mildly irritating. A couple of times I had to make the observation that pregnancy is not a disease ...
Once people know you are pregnant stuff seems to drift into your house - maternity clothes, baby clothes, baby equipment, bath toys, etc. There is a whole other world out there of stuff I didn't know existed and didn't know I would need. Some things I didn't even know what they were for. But, I really like the fact that there is an underground economy happening out there - things are passed on to you and you in turn pass them on to someone else. This is fantastic as some things hardly get used. Chet has already grown out of some of his clothes and they will certainly be passed on so that they can be used by another small person.
I was asked many times how the 'nursery' was going. I don't have a nursery and nursery is not a word I would think of using, to my mind it sounds like something out of Mary Poppins. Chet has a corner of a room which seems to be adequate. I am sure Chet won't be unduly harmed by the experience. Obviously we will have to move somewhere bigger once he needs his own room, by which time it wouldn't be a nursery anyway, it would just be Chet's room.
Acid reflux is very unpleasant and uncomfortable. And it disappeared when Chet was born - instantly.
During pregnancy, it is possible to clothe yourself entirely in clothes obtained from eBay or friends and never have to set foot into the maternity section of any shop. I once strayed into the maternity section of Target and was so horrified by what I saw there that I ran, practically screaming, from the shop.
Pregnancy jeans are very comfortable and good to wear after the pregnancy as well. I continued to wear my pre-pregnancy jeans up until the 5 month. This was only possible because the jeans were hipsters, you couldn't do that with currently fashionable high waisted jeans. When I finally put on the pregnancy jeans a friend had given me I breathed a sigh of relief. And, there is such as thing as a maternity cape. I bought one on eBay and quite enjoyed wearing it although at the beginning I felt a little like a 19th century highway man. It covered the bump very well, you can wear anything under it and you could conceivably wear it when you weren't pregnant. Highly recommended.
Being the only sober person in the room can be strangely liberating. And I discovered I often had more stamina than those who were drinking plus I had the added bonus of being able to remember all the events of the night before and recount them to embarrassed and hungover parties the next day.
Pregnancy is a state that seems to go on forever, especially the last month (or last week if you are overdue) but afterwards it seems to have gone quickly in an underwater kind of blur.

Anne Enright writes very tellingly about the pregnant state in Making Babies: Stumbling into Motherhood. She says: "Pregnancy is a non-place, a suspension, a holiday from our fallible and compromised selves. There is no other time in a woman's life when she is so supported and praised and helped and loved. Though perhaps it is not 'she' who gets all the attention, but 'they'; this peculiar, mutant, double self - motherandchild."

Indeed.

What and why ...

2008-11-12T22:32:00.001+11:00

First post, what to write? I have been thinking for a while about writing about my pregnancy and life with a small infant. Writing about the pregnancy didn't happen and now I have the small infant, Chet, and a lot of time at home, so it seems as though now is the time to start. As for the title of the blog - K-man and I called Chet 'Mr Leapy' when he was in utero so it seems apt that 'Leaps and bounds' should be the title of this blog. He will no doubt grow in leaps and bounds - in fact he has already over the past five weeks. He can now coo, stick his tongue out and suck his fingers as well as continue to demonstrate why we called him Mr Leapy in the first place. He wiggles and squirms and kicks his legs around, so, Leaps and bounds it is.