Time to share the sprinkliest of baby sprinkles.

2 weekends ago my mum hosted a baby sprinkle for me.  A sprinkle is kind of like a shower but more so for peeps already with kiddos.  More emphasis on just celebrating another little sproutlet and gettin’ jiggy with your posse rather than getting all goo goo gaa gaa over the mother to be.  Less newborn luxury items, more nappies.  Less ‘baby shower games’, more cool and fun stuff.

Those who have sprinkles include mums with big age gaps between babies (not me), mums who are finally having a different gender baby (me!) and also self indulgent mums who just like to be the centre of attention but have already had babies and a  previous baby shower but are looking for any excuse to have a party (also me).

I had a baby shower when I was pregnant with T and it was lovely.  We did all the baby shower games and typical baby shower stuff.  My loveliest of lovely friends celebrated with me and we had a super special time.  I didn’t want to have a ‘repeat’ party so Mum and I set out to make it different and special.  I was also super clever this time around; with my shower for Theo, my beautiful bestie hosted it for me, but me being a teensy bit of a control freak, quite possibly took on a bit too much responsibility and ran myself a bit ragged preparing.  This time, still a control freak, but a smarter and more realistic control freak, knew I just wasn’t going to be able to do everything, delegated some food jobs to those who were willing.  My mum of course was super helpful in the lead up and preparations for the sprinkle, which definitely made things easier for me.

The obvious difference between T’s shower and LSP’s sprinkle was the fact that we were celebrating a sparkle princess this time, so the party of course had to be themed accordingly!  After being shouted to my first ever high tea lunch by my mother in law, I knew that my sprinkle would be the perfect occasion for a sparkly fancy pants, dress up high tea.  I also did not want to play any ‘shower games’ but still wanted something fun for my guests to do, so I began sourcing ideas on Pinterest.  Heaps of pins that gave me ideas can be found on my Pinterest Baby Sprinkle board.  While you are having a look, feel free to follow.  We ultimately decided on making beautiful baby headbands for LSP and writing out our wishes for her which I can make into a booklet to read her when she is older.

I am now going to show you a truck load of photos.  I can hear the excitement!  I’ll show you all the bits and pieces and a few of me in my new favourite dress.  I’ll even wrap things up with my latest bump shot which is now 2 weeks old.

 

The Preparations

The table all set up and pretty before the guests arrived.

Each setting consisted of a sheet to write your wishes for Baby Girl Marini, High Tea menu and plan and a matching bottle of spring water.

The two best ‘wishes’ of the day came from my bbf, Cassie with ‘I hope you grow in proportion’ and my sister in law, Wendy with ‘I hope you always wash your hands after a poo’. Gold.

What to do when you have no idea what to call your baby.

The drinks station (can I just say that my Pink Lemonade was TO DIE FOR) and ‘make a headband’ station with all bits and bobs required to be super arty farty and creative.

The lolly buffet. Guests fill their bags with whatever they fancy together with their sweet smelling soap from Lush. Thank you for sharing my special day!

 

Foooood.  The High Tea.

I had helpers with the food.
My mum made the Tomato, Basil and Bocconchini Bites and the Mini Fruit Salads.
My mother in law made the Ribbon Sandwiches, Scones and Raspberry and Chocolate Mousse Cups.
Cassie made the Zucchini Slice and the ever amazing Coconut Cupcakes.
I made the Pink Lemonade, Sugar Onesie Cookies and Peanut Butter Balls.

Are these not the most amazing beautiful cupcakes you have ever seen? Trust me, they tasted even better than they looked!

T Bear eats, I mean plays with a cupcake. Marshmallow frosting is fun!

 

Some of the amazing presents.

Yes. A giant My Little Pony!

Cupcake knitted beanie from Fiona. can’t wait for newborn photos in this (with matching nappy cover – hurry up Fiona, knit like the wind!)

Boob Pads.

Some super cute clothes.

Always was secretly jealous of people who had nappy cakes, now I am one of them! A nappy trike from Cassie, Hollie and Kathy.

 

Some photos of me in said dress.

With D and my 2 little babies.

Matching shoes. $15 from target. Win.

 

The sprinkle creations.

All very beautiful and from the heart.

 

And as promised the bump shot.

 

I had a wonderful day and am just so thankful for my beautiful family and friends that made this day so special.  I love you all long time.  LSP will be the luckiest baby girl alive to enter the world and be loved my so many.  My heart swells.  Thank you peeps x.

 

Sprinkle aside, in other news – today marks 10 days until my c-section.  10 days until we meet little LSP.  I wonder if, seeing as walking and moving is getting so damn difficult I can sit on my buttocks and do 10 blog posts in 10 days?  This is my personal challenge to myself.  This is post #1.  Do you believe I can do it?  Not even I believe I can do it at this point in my pregnancy but by jingo I am going to give it a good try!

Baby’s room is almost finished but you can’t expect that post until after she is born or it will give away her name!  Yes, we have finally chosen a REAL name for LSP.  Select few who may or may not have been told the name already – lip are sealed or I’ll kill you dead (said with my craziest wog eyes glaring).  I’ll show you how to decorate your baby’s room on a shoestring budget with nothing matching and still make it look (I hope) beautiful for a sparkle princess.

Best. Maternity Leggings. Ever.

News so damn good I have to share it with the world.  I have found the best maternity leggings ever.  I only wish I found them sooner, like last pregnancy ago.

This is not a sponsored post, nor am I getting any commissions for telling you this.  I just want you to know!!!!  These leggings have seriously changed my life.  OK, slight exaggeration but that’s how much I love them.

 

Why do I love them?  Let me count the ways.

1. First and foremost, the most important thing to look for in a maternity legging, or any legging for that matter is these little beauts STAY UP!  Even with your enormous belly full of baby, nothing is moving these pants from where you put them!  I can wear them all day, actually I can wear them for two days straight (yes folks, I shower and change my unmentionables) and they still stay up!  Even with my thunder thighs, all the more thunderous for being pregnant are not enough to make these leggings creep down.  You know how with every other crappy pair of leggings you have ever owned seem to want to find their way to the narrowest part of your leg – your ankle?  These DO NOT!  Completely hitch free. 
2.  Your knees will not look like the saggy baggy elephant after 5 minutes of wearing them.  I must admit after a full two days wear, the knees do get a teensy loose but no wrinkles kids!  Swear it. 
3. They have a little cute gathering down at the ankles just as a little feature.  This either works to hide or accentuate your pregnancy cankles.  I am not sure of which yet as my ankles are still behaving themselves.  This is also a good feature for those, like myself that are vertically challenged.  The shorter you are the more ankle gathering you have.  If you are tall, your gathering is stretched out.  Versatility at it’s best.  A legging for all.
4. You can wear them over the bump.  Pull the fold up bit up and you have some extra support around your roundness.  I must say there is a serious amount of strength in the top of these leggings.  On days when I am feeling extra stretched I can wear them over the bump and I am feeling somewhat more supported.  Also handy should you wear a slightly see through number over your leggings as I was today.  Not a good look to have your stretched out stomach tattoo visible through your top.  Pull up your leggings and voila, no more unsightly warped tattoo!
5. You can wear them under the bump.  As I mentioned, the belly band part of these pants it super stretchy and ultra supportive.  I honestly feel as if I am wearing a support garment when I put these on.  I realise that I have used the word support a lot but I cannot think of another suitable synonym.  I swear, these leggings will support your girth.  I even think that post caesarean I will be able to wear these as some sort of support (there it is again) against my incision.

 

There you have it.  5 reason why your preggo belly needs these leggings.  Now for the shocking part – where from and how much?

I know you are probably waiting to hear of some exclusive high end maternity boutique with a price you need to take a loan out to afford but you would be wrong my friends.

 

Big W.  Yes, you read that right.  Big W.

These are part of their ‘Nine and Mine’ maternity range and cost me a staggering $12.  As if my 5 reasons above were not enough reasons to get thee to Big W, then how about the price?  Money well spent.

And the proof?  Well the proof is in the horrible selfies I am posting below.  Does anyone know of a way to take decent self photos?  I tried to edit them to look at artsy and shit but I think I failed miserably.  Anywhoo, that is my 34w4d bump right there.  Feeling rather large and stretched and achy in my bum bum.

Over the bump.

Under the bump.

Mystery baby illness snaps overly hormonal mother out of her funk.

I know that my last post was all gloom and doom, and I assure you that, in no uncertain terms I felt all gloomy and doomy in my head and in my heart.  I still do not really know what caused my period of bleakness but I am happy to say that I am feeling much better.  I still have moments when I feel like the world is crashing down and my patience is definitely thinner than usual but I am able to bounce back to Happy-Go-Lucky Taco much faster, to the relief of my doodles.

 

T Bear got sick.  So did I.

He had a play date with a buddy and his mum warned me that E had a runny nose, I was all like, ‘no worries, kids get sick, can’t be avoided and besides I need to get out of this Fing house!!! Ahhhhh, I’m coming over! Be there in 5.’  This was on a Monday.  T got sick on Tuesday and me on Wednesday.  Crapola.  Just for the record, Mel, if you are reading this, I do not in any way blame E for sharing his little germs.  For all we know we could have caught this bug from anywhere or anyone,  and it was my choice to come!  I still stand by my mantra of ‘kids get sick, can’t be avoided’.

So here I was feeling all sorry for myself.  Full of the cold, feeling like death and unable to take anything for it but Lemsip, which by the way turns out to be freaking awesome, and crying at every available opportunity to share my melancholy with the world.

That was until on the Saturday night, after the poor little Bear had already endured 5 days of yucky cold, he woke crying with a raging, hot as the devil fever.  I was up with him for 3 hours.  I gave him Panadol and some milk and water and stayed with him until that bitch of a fever started coming down.  Subsequently the next day he slept in until 9!  And then was back to sleep 2 hours later for another marathon sleep.  Not like T at all.

 

Dudes, T just got sicker and sicker.  This fever was killer.  Panadol was able to bring it down but as soon as that wore off the fever would sky rocket.  He was nothing more than a miserable, crying, hot, blob of snot.  Not only that but the green, slimy, diarrhea poos were coming think and fast, or should I say sloppy and fast?  Wouldn’t eat, didn’t want to drink much.  All he wanted was bottles of milk but he found it so hard to breathe and drink them it was woeful.

We called the house call doctor who was pretty hopeless to be honest.  Said, ‘some phlegm on the chest, maybe chest infection, we give antibiotics just in case.’

On the 3rd morning of high temps and sleepless nights and sick T, and the antibiotics doing jack diddly squat, I took him in to see my GP.  Good ol’ Dr George never minces his words.  He said, ‘He’s got a cold.’

‘But Dr G’, I say, ‘he’s really sick!’

‘It’s a bad cold.’

 

Way to go Dr George for making me feel like an idiot.  Just call me Neurotic Mother of the Year.  Turns out that he had no chest infection, which I doubted anyway considering that he wasn’t coughing!  But you tend to trust what doctors tell you, after all, they do have that piece of paper that says they know shit about shit.  Both literally and figuratively.

The very next day, T’s fever broke, but we were not out of the woods yet.  Fever was replaced by an all over body rash.  Front and back.  This lasted 3 more days and finally once it subsided T’s cold symptoms began to ease up, and a couple of days later until he was back to his beautiful happy self.  Did I mention that during all this he also cut a couple of new teeth?  Biiiaaatch!

Although I didn’t take him back to see Dr George, I consulted with my mate, Dr Google and have diagnosed that on top of his cold he also had the Roseola Virus.  Just a stock standard baby illness that goes around the town.  No biggie.  Yeah right, tell that to the poor mummies that are up all night nursing their sick, hot, babies!

 

So how did this help snap me out of my funk?  Easy.

How is it possible to remain self involved in your own misery when someone so little and helpless needs you so much more?  His needs trumped my crazy, preggo, hormone funk.  I am feeling like I can cope now, and although I know that in  5 weeks time LSP will arrive and the shit (baby shit) is going to hit the fan around here, I am feeling quietly confident that I won’t F it up completely!

My sick little saviour.

I quite simply don’t have the time for this anymore.  I have 4 doodles who need me (5 if you count Chum-Lee) and a corn chip on the way.  I need to put my energy into being the best mum, wife and incubator I can be for them.

 

It also helped that D has been super star awesome and let me have some sleep-ins and child-free moments.  They really do help, even if it is just going to the shops to get bread and milk.  Just being able to get in the car with out children and all the ‘stuff’ and ‘noise’ that comes with them is pure bliss.  I’m not saying I need to get away from my kids, I am just keeping it real.  I need ‘me time’.  Even if it is just a trip to the store (although a mani/pedi would be nice too…), I need it.  ‘Me time’ make me a better parent.

One more thing that made me feel clearer in my head, and was actually quite hard for me to do, was ask for some help.  I swallowed my pride and asked my mum to come and help me clean my house.  I just couldn’t do it all myself, and that was compounding my feelings of failure.  She was like a magic unicorn who flew in with her cleaning kit and we spent the day cleaning my house.  This was tough because I was embarrassed, but the end result was so great.  I’ve been able to keep somewhat on top of things and everything is sparkling.  If you just walked into my house right now and didn’t know that I was a total housework flake, I could finally pass as that domestic goddess I aspire to be.

 

So, if there are any mothers/pregs out there that are doing it tough like I was, I don’t actually wish for your babies to get sick, but if they do happen to stumble upon a few germs here and there, it may just be a blessing in disguise.  Also, don’t be too proud to ask for some help, you don’t have to be super mum all the time.  Just be human, it is all we can hope to be.

I’m seriously coming undone at the seams.

I don’t know where to start or what to say.  What I do know is that I am barley holding it together.  I feel like at any moment, the last thread of my saneness is about break and I am going to come undone.  Like, I can visualise my body is held together by string and that thread is unravelling causing all of my muscles and tissue and veins and organs to plop out all over the floor.  My eyes will fall out as will my hair, strand by strand, and all that will be left of me is a saggy bag of empty skin and a pile of bones.

 

To be frank, I am not coping.

 

I am completely overwhelmed and I don’t know what to do.  Everywhere I look I see shit.  I pick up the same shit 10 times a day.  Yesterday I went to the shops and bought a heap more cupboard latches so I could secure every single fucking cupboard and draw in the GD house.  You know how everyone says how great it is to leave the Tupperware cupboard in the kitchen unlocked so your baby can have heaps of fun playing with all the plastic?  NO.  Just no.  Whoever said that obviously wasn’t pregnant and could still bend over and touch their toes.  It is not fun.  No more Tupperware for you.  No more pulling all the tea towels out of the tea towel drawer.  No more decorating your room with nappies.  No more flying pencils from the stationary drawer.  No more.  No more.  No more.  Except for the fact that I have been too exhausted to actually fit the latches, so yes, 1 more day.  Then NO MORE!  Today I think I am just going to leave all the stuff all over the floor and see if the floor fairies help me.

 

I cry.  I cry all the time.  For anything.

T throws some food – I cry.  K lies about doing all his homework – cry.  D says, ‘how are you feeling today?’ – cry.  Evil 2 year old pushes T over in the change room play area (because let’s face it, that is the only place mums can relax for 5 minutes while out shopping) – give child’s mother a glare and then cry.  Find empty packet of mint slices in the fridge – cry.  Fold pile of washing for the 5th time after T pulls them back on the floor – cry.  Of course, if I was actually a decent housewife, I would be able to pull the washing off the line, fold it and put it away before T woke up.  But I’m not.  I’m a shit housewife and I leave the growing pile of washing to be folded on the daybed for T to spread over the room 597 times first.

I cry in the car, I cry while I am shopping, I cry while I am having a coffee.  I’m crying right now.

 

This morning was the worst for me.  So I’m pretty bunged up in the back passage.  I’ve already been to the toilet 386 times and can’t move my poo.  I can feel my arse full of shit but it won’t come out.  I am thinking that this is partially because I am horribly constipated, thank you pregnancy, and partially because I can’t visit the loo alone.  I can’t concentrate and to relax on the dunny is what is needed.  I secretly want to punch D in the face each time he goes to the toilet (alone), closes the door (peace) and his shit falls out like rain falling from the sky (sweet relief).  I would give my left boob for some rain poo.

But I digress… So this morning I went to try and poo for the umpteenth time.  Of course T accompanies me.  He unrolls all the toilet paper, constantly tries to play with the toilet brush, pulls open all the drawers and throws nail polish onto the tiled floor.  Yes, I know.  Just put the GD latches on!  I will, I will!  I’m trying to deliver a poo baby while pleading with a 1 year old to stop this, stop that.  After going for the toilet brush for the third time, I yelled at him and threw my hair brush (which I was holding after he tried to stick it between my legs into the toilet).

I scared my baby.  His bottom lip went out and he looked so hurt.  He wailed, I wailed.  I scooped him up and we sobbed together on the toilet.  Poo stayed in.  Again.

 

I feel like such a horrible mother at the moment.  I’m yelling at my baby?  WTF?  Who am I?  I hate myself so much right now.  I don’t even know who I am.  I have K and D telling me constantly how much they love me but I am just a wreck.  I can’t talk to D about how I am feeling because I can’t verbalise it.  I just cry.

I feel like I am nothing more than a failure.  I can’t keep my house tidy, I’ve lost my patience with my children, I’m not bringing money into the household, I don’t cook, I’m lazy, I look like shit.  What is going on?

 

I am finding it really hard to deal with what I am going through because I don’t feel like I have the right to be ‘going through’ anything.  I love my family more that life itself and I am so incredibly thankful for my husband and the children I have, especially after how hard it was to conceive T, I have not forgotten that.  I am so lucky and happy to be pregnant again with the daughter I longed for.  I feel so guilty that I am struggling.  I shouldn’t be struggling, I should be thankful, and I am, but…  I don’t know.  I just don’t know what to do or how to get out of this feeling.  It is like everything is on top of me and there is too much to do, so I don’t know where to start.  All I want to do is sleep.  I forced myself to stay awake while T had his nap today and cleaned my en suite which felt good to accomplish something but an hour later I felt like shit again.

 

What is wrong with me?  Is this just pregnancy hormones or is it some kind of depression or am I having a breakdown?  Am I just not cut out for this role?

 

I hate seeing my domestic goddess friends on Facebook posting the beautiful gourmet meals they cooked their families and reading their status updates on how they cleaned their entire houses until they sparkled, did arts and craft with their kids, gave themselves a mani/pedi, had romantic dates with their spouses and still had time to take the kids to the park or the beach and put on make up.  Not a man toe or grey hair in sight.  FRIENDS – this is not a dig at any one person, just collectively as a group you are all kicking my pathetic domestic butt.  I fail on all accounts.

 

Why am I feeling like this?  I love my husband, we are happy.  I love my children.  I am happy to be having another.  Why am I crying?  Poor D does not know what to do or how to help me.  What can I do?  I would eat more chocolate but the mint slices are all gone.

 

No picture to go with the post.  Just a sad face 😦

 

I did by the way, end up on getting the poo out of my butt.  After T went to sleep for his nap I was able to relax and out she came.  I almost needed an episiotomy but the relief was good.

As promised, a discount code from the good folk at Personal Planners just for you.

I know that all of you (except Fiona) would be quite disappointed that you did not win the free planner from Personal Planners.  I mean, let’s face it, it was a kick-ass prize.  That is why I am so happy to be able to provide just for the wonderful and beautiful readers of 4D&T a 15% discount code for you to go and order your very own planner.

Just remember to make the start date of your planner March so you don’t waste 3 months of pages!

But please, if you loved these and wanted your own, hurry.  The code is only valid until the 15th February so you need to be quick.  I still haven’t ordered mine yet, but am planning on sitting down with a hot Milo after Home and Away (yes T is already in bed asleep) and getting creative.  I am really looking forward to receiving it.

I will be sure to take it with me when I go to the hospital to have LSP, because if there is anything I have learned from giving birth to T and the weeks following, is that my mind goes completely to mush.  Seriously, I had to write down absolutely everything I needed to do or buy or thought of because if I didn’t write it down the very instant I thought it, it would be gone forever.  My thoughts were free to float around the stratosphere never to return to my foggy head again.

I am pretty sure those that visited me soon after T was born will attest to the fact that I could forget what I was saying mid sentence.  For real.

 

So, without further ado, here is the code – D-DMDD-ERAA

Get busy, and your welcome xxx

The roses are in bloom.

Figuratively speaking, of course.

The roses being my hospital appointment, following my scan last week.  Although the ultrasound technician gave us a general ‘everything looks ok but I can’t be sure’, his official scan report read that everything with LSP is NORMAL.  Palate – Normal.  Lips – Normal.  Nose – Normal.  Face – Normal.  EYES – Normal!

Whoever thought that NORMAL would be so exceptional?  I am so happy and relieved.  Now I can get back to enjoying this last pregnancy of mine, despite the constant toilet trips, dizzy spells and extreme exhaustion.  I’ll take it all for normal.

And on that note my friends, I am going to leave this rather short but very sweet post with my latest bump picture.  Enjoy.

Thank you to all my friends and family, in real life, online and in the blogosphere for your love, kind words and support.  It really helped me stay positive.  More than you’ll know.  Much love.

*********

Only 4 days until I draw the lucky winner of the Personal Planners Four Doodles Give-Away!

Really hoped I didn’t have to write this post. All things are not roses.

7 weeks ago I had an ultrasound.  I told you about it.  I said that the gender was confirmed as a girl and everything was roses.

For the most part, that was true.  LSP is a girl, and all of her major parts are perfect and in working order.  Technician couldn’t find any soft markers for any of the big issue problems that they look for, which I know is the best news ever and for that I am truly grateful.  My baby girl is, as far as we can tell, perfectly healthy.

 

Let me take you on a journey back to that day…

 

The ultrasound technician took forever and a day looking at the palate and didn’t say a lot about it.  When I asked her, she just said, after a pause, it was ‘fine’, whereas everything else was ‘great’ or ‘perfect’.  She kept on going back again and again to look in that area, and this is when I began to feel a little nervous.  She wasn’t saying much.

She then spent ages getting 3D images of her face.  I was in awe at her beauty and thought the pictures were amazing.  After that she let me go and empty my bladder (before I exploded wee all over the place), and when I returned I found that she had called in a colleague to have a look at the pictures of her face.  It was then she told me she was concerned about her left eye (couldn’t see the right eye at this point) as it looked as if the eyeball was sitting out from the face rather than more in the socket.  I listened to the 2 of them talking and I heard her mention Graves Disease, but then they went to check the thyroid which was fine, so discounted that theory.  The second lady didn’t seem too concerned but also didn’t say too much.

She was able to get some more face pictures later from the other side and that eye looked normal in the socket, but then we looked again at the first side, and at first it seemed not so puffy, but it was sticking out more than the other side.
I tried to get as much info as I could out of her and she was nice about it, but I don’t think she was as forthcoming as she could have been.  Basically she said that it is more than likely absolutely nothing, she didn’t find any other markers for any thing else so it was unlikely to be a problem.  She also said that she would have the head radiographer who specialises in babies to look at the scan and make his recommendation, but it looked like I would have another scan in about 6-8 weeks time when LSP had more fat on her face.

I left feeling thrilled to be having a healthy sparkle princess but so distraught at the possibility of there being something wrong.  I just kept on thinking of children with disabilities and their distinctive shaped eyes.  Although, logic told me that if there was a major problem she would have found other markers.  I didn’t know what to feel except thankful that I have a beautiful little girl, but I was scared and nervous also.

 

I was able to make an appointment to see my doctor first thing in the morning to see the ultrasound report once it had been emailed to him.

The report was shit really.  Everything was normal except she had written that the face, eyes, palate, profile, nose and lips were not examined when they clearly were.  So I really had no idea what is going on.  She also wrote that she wanted a review at 26 – 28 weeks and spoke about possible proptosis of the left eye.  I love my Dr, he was really reassuring and asked me if I wanted to have the scan repeated elsewhere.  I asked him what he thought I should do and he told me to relax, chill out and have a lovely Christmas.  He said that all scans are is soundwaves and shadows, and sometimes scan places like to get as much money out of you as they can and make a mountain out of a molehill.  He told me to take the report with me to my next hospital appointment, because the hospital with more than likely want to follow up on it with their own experts which would be more reliable anyway.  So that is what I have been trying to do – chill.

 

I was doing so well until the night before my hospital appointment a few weeks ago when I made the horrible mistake to visit Dr. Google.  I searched for eye protrusion in babies.  I should never have done that.  The first think I clicked on was a YouTube video.  I thought it was going to be a medical-type-informative video.  Fuck.  Me.  I was so wrong.  No, I will NOT show you the video.  Firstly, because that would mean I would have to see it again, and secondly if you saw it you would die a little in your heart and see that poor baby every time you closed your eyes for a week solid.  I still cry when I think about it.  I was traumatised.  I realise that the baby I saw obviously had a multitude of problems but it was horrifying to see a newborn baby crying it’s lungs out with its eyes bulging.  Please, please do not search for it, I beg you.

 

The doctor at the hospital was lovely, but she wanted a follow-up scan scheduled before my next appointment.  That scan was today.

 

It was ok, just OK.  Still not really sure on everything though.  I am now waiting again to see the hospital doctor next week.  I wasn’t really able to see the screen today (The scan was at hospital today rather than at the fancy-pants ultrasound place where you get champagne and canapés on arrival and get to view your scan on a massive wall mounted TV) but Dave could, and he said she looked alright (his professional opinion).  The scanner guy said everything was looking OK as far as he could tell but couldn’t really be sure.  She was in an awkward position with her head rammed up under my right rib, so now I am just waiting to see the report when I see the Dr next week.

I had a big cry when we left.  I really was hoping for a more positive result, like they were going to tell me everything was perfect and not to worry, but all I got was an ‘all looks ok, I guess, but it is hard to tell’ result and I feel a bit let down.  Dave is feeling reassured though so I am trying to go with his gut feeling.  I know deep down that everything is fine and she is going to be the most perfect beautiful baby and we will look back and laugh about how worried we were, but I just wanted someone else to tell me that.

At least I now know why I have to go to the toilet every half hour for a trickle.  Breech baby dancing on my bladder.  Typical girl!  My mother said I did the same.

 

I had previously posted a picture of her sweet little face, but I showed you one of her ‘good side’.  Here is a picture of her eye in question from the 20 weeks scan, 7 weeks ago.  I didn’t get any pictures today.

Looks fine to me, but I don’t really know what I am looking at, except beauty.

I did get to see something amazing today though.  I saw her little tongue moving as she was having a nice drink of amniotic fluid.  Yes, she was drinking some of her own wee 🙂

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Now, on a happier note – a reminder about my Give-Away!  Get your entries in for your chance to win an awesome planner from Personal Planners.

Just make your merry little way along to THIS POST for all the details and how to enter.  You’ll be glad you did! (especially if you win)  Get on it!

Peace out.

Moving house – Part 3. A Magical Milestone! I bet you thought I forgot about doing these.

I realise that this post is a little overdue, but seriously dudes, this pregnancy is kicking my butt!  Holy shit balls hell, is it possible to feel any more dead?  I think not.  I believe that the ‘2nd trimester energy’ is a fallacy, thought up by some moron, probably a man, designed to help you make it through the first trimester by believing that it will all be roses once you get through that crap.   ‘Come on girls, pregnancy is not that hard.  You should totally breed with me,’ said he.  It’s all about survival of the species.

Or maybe it is the difference between growing a boy and growing a girl.  I mean, yes I was tired when pregnant with T, but I managed to continue working full time with a commute and do all my wifely and motherly duties.  I can’t even compare being pregnant with K because I was all young and shit back then.  I’m old now.  This baby has totally sucked me dry.  Or is it the whole being pregnant while looking after a baby thing?  Who knows.  What I do know is that this shit ain’t easy.  Hats off to all mums and dads with more than one baby/toddler all around the world.  Is there a secret that I don’t know about?  Fill me in please.  I am serious.  I NEED to know.

 

So we moved house.  Things are finally looking good on the home front now, almost all teething problems have been fixed.  Most importantly, I have a working dishwasher – hurrah!  I forgot to mention in previous posts however, that in the middle of the moving chaos, T did something INCREDIBLE!  HE CRAWLED!!!

He did it the afternoon before we moved all the big stuff.  Yes, that’s right – before the day from hell.  And then didn’t do it again until the day after the day from hell, but it was truly wonderful to watch.  I was lucky enough that I had the camera right there on the table next to me, and as soon as he started doing it I called to K to take over pulling the toy in front of him and managed to catch his very first crawl ever on film, and here it is –

 

Wasn’t that amazing?  I know what you are thinking – wow another baby crawling, big deal…  Well it is a big deal!  It’s MY baby!

These days he is a crawling machine and so close to walking.  His balance is pretty good and he can stand unaided for a while and has even taken a couple of steps towards D.  Oh yeah, AND most importantly T finally today started saying mamama!  For real, he chats all day long and makes all the sounds in the world but do you think he would say mama?  Nope.

Me – Theo, I love you.

T – Dad.

Me – Kiss for Mummy?

T – Dad.

Me – Who’s your favourite?

T – Dad.

 

Now that T can crawl, he can do all sorts of fun and crazy things like –

Help Mum in the kitchen.

Help Mum fold up the cloth nappies. (That is the roll of flushable liners peeps)

Sneak away to LSP’s room to discover where his birthday and Christmas presents were hidden.

Climb into ball pits.

And make his friend E cry.

 

See?  It’s all fun and games now.  Seriously though, things are awesome now that T is mobile.  He is so happy that he can cruise around the joint like he owns the place.  It is wonderful to see him exploring and discovering new things all the time.  He is fascinated by light switches and doors and balls.  Anything cause and effect really.  I just love this age.

 

Oh, big news – it’s T’s 1st birthday party on Sunday!  I am really excited and anxious.  I hope everything runs smoothly and everyone has a good time.  I’ve spent hours on Pinterest and think that I am organised.  I won’t give too much away just yet, but what I can tell you is that I have chosen a “Where is the Green Sheep?’ theme, as it is T’s favourite book.  Your baby/toddler needs this book!  Click it.

I will take lots of photos and share how it went.  Don’t expect things to be all perfect and matching and awesome like other mummy bloggers who are domestic goddesses.  This is me after all!

I have the results…

LSP is…

(let’s see if I can stretch this out X Factor style)

.

.

.

.

.

A baby

.

.

.

.

GIRL!

 

A Lumpy Space PRINCESS!

Thank you Flying Spaghetti Monster, and thank you reproductive science, and D’s super-birth-control-penetrating-sperm.

 

Everything seems to get the right size and in the right spot and working.  She, I can’t believe I am saying SHE, was dancing around giving the technician a run for her money.

I saw her sleeping and yawn and suck her thumb.  She is beautiful.  She is also a tart.  Have a look at this trashy photo, showing all the boys her bits!  I will have to have a word to her about keeping her knees together.

 

And here is a picture of her beautiful LSP face.

Isn’t she lovely?

So I guess now I can start thinking about names and the nursery and saving for her university education.

I am just so happy and feel truly blessed to have such wonderful boys and now a sparkle princess to call my own.  I would like to take this moment to thank all of you that have been following my little blog and sharing your thoughts and comments with me.  I feel humbled that people actually care about and like what I write, so thank you and I hope you stay for the ride, because things are going to get crazy around here in about 4 months time!

Today is the day. Half way baked and my ultrasound.

Yippee yippee, yi yi!  The day has finally come!  Yesterday it was tomorrow, but today it is today.  At last.

Today is the day I have my 20 week scan.

I am excited.  I am nervous.

 

The most important thing to us of course is checking to see if our surprise baby is healthy and happy floating in my utero bubble.  But following closely behind is finding out if LSP is really a Princess or a Prince.

I know I have said it before, and I will say it again.  We would love a girl to finish off our little family.  I love love love my boys to bits and pieces but I would love to have a girl too.  Will I be sad if ‘she’ has grown a doodle?  A little at first, but no, of course not.  LSP is my baby and I love him or her.  Nothing will change that.  Ever.  But honestly, please LSP don’t show us a penis today!

 

This is what I want to see –

I will let you know…