Tag Archives: 2 Babies

I just want to know that I am not alone. Bendy Hair Follicles?

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Fess up.  Who has them?  Who even knows what I’m talking about?

 

Bendy Hair Follicles or BHF as I call them around here.  When your stupid hair grows out one way, and then gets forced into another direction and then it hurts like a mofo.  Yeah, you know what I’m talking about!  Don’t you?

I want to know that BHF is a real thing, and it is not just me.  My husband gives me a look like he thinks I am bat shit crazy whenever I mention it.  But he just doesn’t KNOW.  He has no hair.

I’ll tell you a little secret about hair. Hair is stubborn and hair doesn’t like being told what to do or where to go.

 

These are the people that are likely to be inflicted by this nasty reality:

  1. Curly haired bitches.  I think these girls have it the worst.  Their crap curly hair grows out of their head in all different directions and they generally have very strong evil follicles that resist hairbrushes best efforts to put them back into place.  What happens is this – unless the bitch in question lets her wild tresses go nuts, she has to put it up in some fashion.  There is a 100% chance that whatever hairstyle is chosen, there will be follicles bent the wrong way.  If the poor bitch has kids, especially babies who like to grab hair, wild and woolly hair is just not an option, therefore, she MUST tie it back and subsequently subject herself to the pain of the bendy follicle.
  2. Ballerinas.  These girls wear their hair in buns – right up on top of their heads.  Really tight buns – smothered in hairspray so the hair has no chance of escaping the anti-gravity hold.  This is all well and good while dancing on stage.  The girl looks as cute as a button, but she has no idea what is about to happen.  After her performance and the audience has all gone home, she has to take her hair out.  There is no avoiding it.  Once the 1000 bobby pins come out, her follicles are going to scream as they are allowed to fall back to their natural position.  Agony.
  3. Hippies.  Sometimes, you can get BHF is other places too.  Like your legs if your all hippie like or just don’t shave much.  This usually happens when you wear leggings or stockings.  Pregnant women wear leggings a lot and they also don’t get to shave much because they just can’t.  When you pull your leggings on, your spindly leg hairs are pulled upwards and trapped there.  That is of course until you take your leggings off later.  And then BAM – Bendy Leg Hair Follicles.
  4. Ferals.  Bendy Hair Follicles get worse as your hair gets dirtier.  If for some reason you don’t get to wash your hair very much, like you are homeless or have babies, there is a good chance that your follicles are getting bendier and bendier.  Especially as you keep on pulling your hair back everyday to avoid little hands getting up into your knots and pulling on them.  Also, as your hair gets more gross, you tend to resort to the old bun or shove it under a hat to hide the fact that you haven’t brushed your hair or showered in a month.  Not good options for the BHF sufferer. It’s just a vicious circle.  Sadly, the only way to cure BHF is to wash your hair.  Easier said than done.

 

I am horrified to say that I fall under all of these categories (well, except ballerina.  I haven’t done ballet for a long time, but I REMEMBER!).  And my hair gets curlier and bendier after each baby!  Forgot to mention – going to bed with wet hair is also a big no-no for the person with BHF as your head on a pillow is bound to push your wet follicles into unnatural positions and dry there.  Problem is, I generally shower at night after babies are asleep, but I don’t want to wash my hair then or it would be worse in the morning!  (not to mention that curly haired bitches SHOULD NEVER go to bed with wet hair or they wake with the afro from hell)  Sometimes my head hurts so bad that I pounce on D as soon as he gets out of bed in the morning and beg him to take the babies so I can wash my goddammotherfuckingbendyhairfollicles before I chop my head off, stomp on it and throw it in a fire.

I looked and looked for a curly haired bitch photo of myself but there just aren't any because I ALAWYS pull it back - thus making my BHF worse!

I looked and looked for a curly haired bitch photo of myself but there just aren’t any because I ALWAYS pull it back – thus making my BHF worse!

Is this normal?

Do YOU have BHF?

Put your face on and do your hair. We’ve been shot and Tameka can shoot you too!

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This is a really triumphant moment for me.  I have been successful in convincing D to participate in a family photo shoot.  You know he is not a big lover of the camera and will always do his best to sabotage photos with a goofy face.  Every.  Single.  Time.

 

The gorgeous and talented Tameka from Tree Pretty Photography has taken our photos before.  Last year she did a photo shoot with what I thought were going to be all my children.  D got out of that one.  You can see last years shoot here.  Little did I know that I was soon to discover we were expecting one more!  Now we really do have all of our children, our family is as big as it is going to get, so it is of ever increasing importance to me to secure that illusive family photo.  A photo with us all in it.  A photo where we all look normal and like we love each other.  A photo that we could even put on our wall and not cringe every time we walk past it.

Tameka is running a freakingly good value promotion on the 16th November, which is in 2 weeks!  She is offering mini photo shoots on the beach.  You get a half hour time slot with 5 different ‘poses’ and the high resolution, edited photos in both black and white and colour will be emailed to you to do with as you please!

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Now, there are a few great things about this opportunity.

  1. If you have a crabby photophobic husband like mine, he will be far more likely to participate in something that will be over very quickly.  You can give him a massive guilt trip until he says yes.
    Me:  What, our family is not important enough for you to give up half an hour of your day?
  2. Couldn’t be more easy for the goofy non-model people.  Walk in, walk out.  She has heaps of ideas ready to go.  Tameka has ‘The Eye’ and knows what will look good and work for your family.  She will tell you what to do and you just need to bring the smiles and have fun.  Practice your photo face in the car on the way to the beach.
  3. Sunny or overcast, the setting could not be more beautiful.
  4. Do I really have to point out how unbelievably cheap the deal is?  $50!  That is super good.  I was pulled in to take those portrait photos in the shopping centre recently.  They were asking $80 for ONE PHOTO!  And that is it, no digital file, nothing else.  Crazy.  (I remained strong though – ‘I’ll just take my free one please’) $50 and you can print, share and reprint as many times as you like.

 

I went into the shoot with a mental note of what shoots I wanted to get – the family, the kids, the boys, the babies, me and D, and little Crazy Hazey. That is 6 shots instead of 5, but I am super dooper lucky because I am good friends with Tameka’s sister, so I think she was extra generous with me.

We started off at the beach.  Unfortunately, the weather was very unkind to us.  It was as hot as Hades and blowing and absolute gale.  Hair blowing everywhere, sand all up in our eyes, babies crying.  We got a few shots in but decided to do a re-shoot in the park on a less windy day.  But don’t worry, weather looks good for 2 weeks time.  I checked.

Here are some photos from both locations.  I think you will agree that they both make a spectacular backdrop.  I personally love the green woodland type background more than the beach!  But don’t worry, if you like the trees better too, I am pretty sure Tameka is planning another event like this in a park soon.  How lucky am I?  I kind of got a 2 for 1 deal!  Now let’s see if I got the 6 shots I wanted…

 

The Family.

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The Kids.

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The Boys.

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The babies.

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Me and D.

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Crazy Hazey.

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Some extras.

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So there you have it.  Beautiful photos once again.  Thank you very much Tameka!  Please, if you are on the Gold Coast or planning to visit on the 16th and have half an hour up your sleeve to create some lasting memories, or just looking for a great photographer, do yourself a favour and call Tameka from Tree Pretty Photography.  You won’t be sorry!

Which ones do you like?

Chum-Lee’s Choice – The 2 year old’s Christmas wish list edition.

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Holy crap.  Christmas is in 55 days.  That means there is only 54 shopping days left!

But don’t despair, Chum-Lee and I have been putting in the hard yards for you.  Hours upon hours of toy and goodie research has been conducted and I think I have come up with a pretty darn amazing list of the bestest and the coolest toys and tidbits for the super crazy and active 2 year old.

T wants all of these.  Or rather, I should say, I want them all for T, but I am pretty sure he would tell you he wants them too, if he could.  Some of the items I am about to show you are on my ultimate wish list, but some of them T is actually going to receive, so shhhhh don’t tell him, we don’t want to ruin the surprise on Christmas morning!

When I started thinking about Christmas gifts for the babies, a few things came to mind.  They had to be good quality and made to last.  I am not interested in something they will play with for 5 mins and then leave in the back yard to rot.  I want toys that will stand the test of time with both babies.  The toys need to be something they can play with actively – no screens to stare at.  I want them to use their imaginations and be creative.

 

Little Tikes Anchors Away Pirate Ship

I thought I would show this one first because T already has it.  I did originally get it for him for a Christmas present but we had some really hot days here and D had gone away for a boys weekend.  What was I to do?  I couldn’t manage taking both babies in the pool by myself, and the little dude was hot and suffering in the heat!

Needless to say, T got an early Christmas present.  His reaction when I brought the box in was gold.  ‘WOW!!!!! WOW! WOW! WOWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!’ he shouted.  It’s great, he hangs out by the pirate ship all the time.  It has a little motor so running water gets sucked up and comes out the top of the crows nest.  He can press the button himself and it turns itself off after a minute so there is no danger of it being left running and eating your battery life.

Cleaning and refilling it is super easy and T thinks that is the best part because he gets to help with the HOSE!  Chum-Lee likes it too, as there is always a fresh source of water.  Why do cats never want to drink from their actual water bowl?  Chum-Lee would rather drink from the toilet.  Lots of other things like the pirate ship too, like blankies, loaves of bread and hats.

OK, it’s not the cheapest water table out there, but it is strong and made to last.  Mother-in-law gave a little cheapo one to T for Christmas last year and it didn’t even last half a season.  I figure this will last the babies many summers to come, I also scored it in one of the big toy sales so got a bargain.  Money well spent.

T plays with a loaf of bread in the pirate ship.  Because that's where bread goes apparently.

T plays with a loaf of bread in the pirate ship. Because that’s where bread goes apparently.

 

Little Tikes Easy Store Picnic Table

A kids table and chairs was always going to be on my Christmas list.  My parents gave K a table and chairs for Christmas when he was nearly T’s age and it was a great present.  K loved having his own special table that was just his size.  He used it for art and craft, eating, teddy bear tea parties and as a makeshift cubby house.  It was study and lasted us many years.

My prerequisites for a table were that it had to be strong, versatile and tidy.  The Little Tikes table ticks those boxes.  The Little Tikes stuff is tough.  Even cyclone T can’t destroy them.  This table can be folded and stored flat, which makes it very handy for packing in the van to take to a picnic at the park.  What really sold me on this one is the tidy factor.  There are cup/paint holders and a little trough to hold pens in the middle.  There is also a lip around the edge of the table so your crayons won’t roll off.  It’s all made of sturdy plastic so it’s easy to clean AND as it is all in one piece T can’t hurl chairs all over the yard.

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Imaginarium City Central Train Table

THIS!  He is going to freaking love this!  I really desperately wanted to get T this train table for two reasons.  One because I think it is awesome and trains are cool, and two because K will love it as well and he’ll love to play trains with T.

Sadly, this train table is pretty exxy, even when it is on special, so I had resigned myself to the fact we simply can’t be spending that kind of cash.  My second option was to get a cheapy table from Kmart that was half the size.  Luckily for us and for T, Mother-in-law kindly offered to buy this as a combined birthday/Christmas gift for T Bear.  I wish we were in the financial position to give this gift ourselves but we are  certainly grateful that she can.  Beggars can’t be choosers!

I love this table way more than the Thomas Tank Engine tables because it has DRAWERS to pack away all the crap!  ANYTHING that helps me maintain some sort of order in this chaos is greatly appreciated.  Also, love that  it is nice stained wood and classy.  I hate the Thomas ones as they have all the landscape stuff painted all around the table, which will look shabby in time when the pain start to chip.  The wooden table can fit in with out decor.

You probably realise that I prefer good quality study toys that are going to last our babies a long time.  These are our big ticket items and a lot of time has gone into researching which will be best suited to us and our family.  I can even get some ‘pink’ trains for H.

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Crabbie Sandbox

I’ve been on the fence about a little sand pit for a while.  I’m not too keen on more mess being walked into the house, nor am I keen on cat poo in the sand, but after seeing just how much T LOVES playing with sand at our playgroup, I have decided that I can work with these two challenges.

I like this Crab Sandbox a little more than the basic clam shell ones for the simple fact that it has a little seat for this old mumma to sit on, but the clam shell sandpit would also be fine if you had younger knees than mine.  The sandpit needed to have a cover to keep the cat crap out and this one does.  I just need to keep a dustpan brush at the back door to brush down the babies before they come back inside.  Kmart also does a little wooden box with a cover that would work.

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LEGO DUPLO

T is just a bit too young for the massive bucket of LEGO we have in the cupboard and the little pieces are not safe for H.  Duplo is awesome.  You can build cute animals and people.  It is really easy to put together and pull apart.  T really loves building things with blocks and gravitates towards the Duplo whenever he has the opportunity to play with some.  I love the fact that this is a unisex toy, and as with the train table, pirate ship and sandpit, it is a toy that both my little babies and big doodles will get joy out of for years to come before the graduate to the little LEGO.

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Fisher-Price Doodle Pro Classic Doodler

This a magna doodle.  You know, what you played with as a kid?  Yep, they have been around for years and are still excellent.  I chose this one as the pen string is attached in the middle of the board so it is good for both left and right handed little artists.  It looks like T is going to be a lefty.  This is just a really handy toy to have.  It is cheap, easy to transport around and apart from the few little stamps there are no pieces to be left all over your lounge room.  Creativity at its best.

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A Very Busy Sticker Book (The World of Eric Carle)

T loves The Very Hungry Caterpillar and he loves stickers.  Most kids do!  I just stumbled upon this book and grabbed it on a whim but I think it is a winner.  A good cheapie.

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Personalised Peppa Pig Book

T, like a lot of kids his age (and their mums) love that cheeky little pig, Peppa.  T is Peppa Pig obsessed.  He has a Peppa figurine that he tucks into the top of his nappy so she can cruise around with him.  He loves her.  I found that you can have your own personalised Peppa book printed so your child is actually a character in the story.  You get to design what he/she will look like and can even have a personal message to your child printed inside the cover.

I remember when I was a girl, my mum had a personalised book for me printed.  I think it was about fairies?  Anyway, what I do remember was I was so amazed that I was actually in a book!  I mean, this book was about ME, it was the coolest thing ever for a book lover.

T has a couple of Peppa books already which he reads over and over, and I think he will get a real kick out of being the star in one.  I haven’t gone ahead and ordered one yet as they are quite pricey, especially once you add shipping on top of that.  I am wondering if this might be a better present next year, but it is pretty rad, which is why I am including it in the list.

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George Pig Beanie

Now, T does love Peppa Pig, and there are some pretty cool Peppa toys out there but I am not about to shell out the big bucks on something fancy if he is not going to play with it.  This is a safe bet.  It’s not expensive and can be the test to see if your little one is a true Peppa fan.  If he loves it to death and plays with it, then perhaps go out and buy your kid the playhouse or rocket ship of whatever, but sometimes it is a good idea to test the waters first.  You could end up saving yourself a wad of cash.   Oh, and H will be getting a Peppa beanie so they can play together.

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Humpty Beanie

T’s other obsession is Play School.  The kid can’t get enough and I like Play School too.  I have a secret mummy crush on Teo.  I can’t get over the fact that they are still singing the same songs that they did when I was a little girl, and I remember them all!  I would love to get ALL the Play School friends but I’ll just stick with Humpty for T and Jemima for H, for now.  Then we can have our own Play School type fun at home.

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Ok, that is 10 of my best (For now.  I reserve the right to add a million toys to my wish list).  Do you have any super amazing toys or present ideas that I can add to my list?

We should all thank Chum-Lee for his help.

We should all thank Chum-Lee for his help in researching these toys.  He was very good at sitting in front of my computer screen and knocking things off my desk when I disagreed with his input.

Magical Milestones – First tooth, first food.

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I am not sure how this happened but H is now 6 months old.  How did that happen?  Did I blink?

 

Here I was blissfully unaware that my little baby was getting older while nursing her, and flipping through the pages of a mothering magazine (bought for me by my super thoughtful husband) (actually, is he trying to send me a message that my mothering is no good?) (do I really need to know the ’10 top tips from a second time mums’?) when I am confronted my a Heinz Baby Food ad, and then BAM it hit me – I need to think about feeding H food!

This was a couple of weeks ago and the main reason for a mercy dash to IKEA.  Any excuse to go to IKEA is valid.  I purchased myself a new high chair and a few months supply of dish scrubbing brushes.  Enough to get me through until my next IKEA run anyway.  I ate the meatballs with lingonberry sauce.  As always.

 

When I announced to the family that H would be starting solids soon, J responded with, ‘but she hasn’t got any teeth.’  Well spotted J, but babies don’t need teeth to eat.  I think he thought I was going to give her crisp carrot sticks or something.  Anyway, his point is moot, as she cut her first tooth on Saturday, 1 day before her first taste of food.  1 day after her half birthday.

It is not easy to photograph the teensiest of teensy little  teeth but I believe you can juuuuust see it poking through here.

It is not easy to photograph the teensiest of teensy little teeth but I believe you can juuuuust see it poking through here.

 

There are actually two things you need to introduce your baby to once they start solids.  One is of course food, the other is water.  Exclusively breastfeed babies don’t need water because they get whatever they need from your magical boobs, but once they start eating food they need water to stop their poos from turning into cement.  No-one likes to poo out cement.  Think about it, if you had a liquid diet, say you drank vodka for breakfast, lunch and dinner and then someone fed you a pub roast dinner, your butt would get all bunged up too.

 

Now comes the food time.  What do I feed her and how do I do it?  Do I go down the Traditional Weaning route with purees, or try the Baby Led Weaning where she eats finger food and feeds herself?  I have decided to do a mix of the two, as I did with T.  I am going to do Hazel Led Weaning.

Hazel (or insert the name of YOUR baby here ____) Led Weaning goes like this – you spoon feed your baby some stuff, while they play with and attempt to feed themselves some other stuff.  I figure this is the best of both worlds.  You can make sure they are getting some food into their belly with the spoon, while allowing them the opportunity to try and coordinate their hands and mouth, and maybe, just maybe munch on something in the process.

For these first few days, all I am doing is really just trying to let her know that other things can go into her mouth and they taste funny.  I am letting her play with a spoon, and she likes that a lot.  I am not really all that fussed yet if she is eating, it is just discovery at the moment.

Here she is discovering her first taste of something other than boob:

Whoa Mumma!  What is that?  That don't taste like boob, or my thumb!

Whoa Mumma! What is that? That don’t taste like boob, or my thumb!

OK, it's not that bad.  I'll take 2 spoons please.

OK, it’s not that bad. I’ll take 2 spoons please.

Theo watches, like a dude.

Theo watches, like a dude.

 

The next part of the food introduction phase is the ‘watch out for the horrid change in poo consistency and smell’ part.  This part I am not looking forward to.  So far, after 1 day of the tiniest bit of food that got in her mouth, poo remains the same.  I know this because last night H pooed in the bath.

Does anyone remember that T liked to poo in the bath?  Well, H is following in the brothers footsteps.  Except she does it 18464 times more often then he did!

 

It usually goes like this:

Fun, fun, fun!  Two babies in the bath!  Splish, splash, splosh!  Bubbles come from H’s butt.  Uhoh.  Is it just a fart?  Wait….  Nope, just a fart!  Splish, splash, splosh, fun resumes.  And then shhhhplurggge…  H giggles.  Wth?  Oh crap, H crapped in the bath.  ‘D!!!! quick H shat in the bath again!!!’  ‘T, time to get out!’  (rinse off T with water from upstream)  Throw baby #1 at husband.  Grab baby #2, rinse her off.  Rush off and get babies dressed for bed.  Come back to clean bath, by which time it has become a swamp of orange poo floaters.

Joy of joys.

 

One day in the (hopefully) not too distant future, my babies will learn that poos are best done on the toilet so their mummy needn’t wash poo out of baths no more.

The Shared Room – Part 2.

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We left off here.  It was the first night of the babies sharing a room.  I published that post and woke up to a dead computer.  My old mate has now been revived and I need to update you on the shared room shenanigans.

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That first night was pretty good.  I hardly slept a wink, as I was sure every little noise from either baby was going to wake the other one, so I was on a continual state of stand-by mode.  I was ready to run in there and pounce on the noisy baby, and to whip them away faster than you can say ‘omgdontwakeyoursleepingbrother/sister!’  D of course slept through.

H started stirring around 4am.  She probably would have settled herself back to sleep but I wasn’t willing to risk it.  I scooped her out of bed and boobed her.  T snored through the ordeal.  Once I got her back to bed I was able to snag myself an extra hour sleep before T woke up and started to call out, ‘Mum, Mum, Mum!’  This was at 5:30am, and I consider that to be a pretty good first night (for them anyway).

I always find it a little insulting that T wakes up and calls out to me, but the first thing he says when I drag my sleepy butt out of bed and into his room is, ‘Dad?’

 

The following day we had family visiting.  T’s aunty asked him to show her his room.  Off he ran and turned left down the hallway to his new room, where he ran up to his cot, banged it and said, ‘Bed!’  That said to me, he understood the room change and had accepted his new room.  This whole shared room thingy had to work because it would just be too hard on him to change back now.

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I need not have worried.  Even the day time nap has been mostly smooth sailing.  H just does her own thing and T tries to talk to her until he gets bored of the one way conversation and chats to his bears for a bit, before falling asleep too.  We listen out for sibling rivalry on the baby monitor but there has been none.  What we do hear is this – ‘Haaadel, Haaadel, Haaadel, Haaaaaaaaadel.  Mum.  Mum.  Dad.  Haaadel.  (gurgle from H)  Kai?  Kai?  Haaadel.  Jai.  Cat.  Mum?  Haaadel.  Dad, Dad, Dad…….’  Silence.  Snores commence.

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It is not perfect, they do wake each other up, but usually around general wake up time anyway.  But seriously, who has two babies and has perfect sleepers all the time anyway?  I have it good.  I know I have it good.  My babies are rock stars.

 

I have not done a lot with the room design yet.  I will get there eventually, but what I can say is that J has already turned his new room into a bomb site.  Seriously!  And he has only lived in there for 1 week!!!  Meh, dirty teenage boys!  At least he can now stop terrorising K with his ‘personal grooming’ habits.

Today I narrowly avoided divorce. Husband takes down and reassembles cot.

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K and J are, as you know, 12 and 13.  Teenagers.  I have one word to say about that – Puberty.  And raging hormones.  And hair in weird places.  All that surging testosterone zinging all over the place can make current living arrangements unpleasant at time.  12 and 13 year olds sharing a room is tough.

It was always our intention to give the medium doodles their own room.  Teenage boys need privacy.  They need their own special happy zone to fantasise about Taylor Swift or whoever teenage boys are  masturbating over these days.  We just needed them to continue sharing until the babies were on a solid sleep all night schedule, and then we could move them in together and separate the boys.  I was thinking probably in the Christmas holidays.

Things unexpectedly came to a head recently.  Doodles had gone to bed.  I sat down at my computer for the first time all day to troll through Facebook and Pinterest – Mummy Porn, when K resurfaced saying he couldn’t sleep because J was masturbating.  Very disturbing.  In all honestly, he was ‘just pretending’ to annoy K (it worked), but he probably had a little happy time enjoyment (can’t believe I am saying this and it gives me the heebeejeebees just thinking about it) at the same time.

 

Crisis talks.

Me:  OMG K said J is pulling the pud!  WTF am I supposed to do with that information?

D: (Laughs at me) (jerk)

Me:  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

D:  Time to give them their own rooms I think.

Me:  (Panicking)  Boys need Privacy yes, I get it, but I’m not ready!  How will this impact MY SLEEP?  I fear change! (hyperventilate)

 

This all happened a few weeks ago and I have done nothing but think about the whole room switch around ever since.  T will move into H’s room and J will move into T’s.  Sounds simple enough right?  Wrong.

What happens to SLEEP?  Will the babies start to wake each other up at night?  Will this kick start the mother of all sleep regressions?  Will they stay up gossiping about boobs and Elmo into the wee hours of the morning?  And more importantly what am I going to do about redecorating the room?

You want me to share my room?  As long as you don't want me to share my blankie.

You want me to share my room? As long as you don’t want me to share my blankie.

 

So it is now the September holidays.  It is time for ‘Operation move Theo into Hazel’s Room’.  We thought we would move T first and give it a week to see how it goes.  If all goes well we’ll separate the boys then.  If it is a complete disaster and T and H party all night and I become the walking dead, then T goes back and we re-evaluate in a few months.

I’ve been talking to T about the big move for a few days.  I always ask him if he understands and he say ‘eees’.  Today I thought, no more talking.  Let’s just do this thing.  Now here comes the divorce part.

 

D is on holidays right, so I find him laying on the couch watching Ready Steady Cook.

Me:  Hun, can you please come and help me move the T’s cot into H’s room quickly before Judge Judy?

D:  What, you mean now?

Me:  Well, yes.  H needs a nap soon so now would be the time.

 

We start to carry cot out of the room.  I get my end through the door.  Other end gets stuck.  We try again.  Stuck.  Damn.

 

D:  It’s going to have to be pulled apart. (audible sigh)

Me:  Ahhh crap.  (sensing D’s frustration levels rising)  You go watch Judge Judy (best wife award) and I’ll do it.

D:  No I’LL do it.  (best husband award)

 

A very clumsy disassemble of the cot happens.  T is getting very excited.  He wants to help which is adorable but more of a hindrance.  We get all the pieces down into H’s room.  T comes too, as does H.  I have put this cot up and taken it down several times on my own so I know how it goes and I know it is easier with 2 people.  I offer to help.  D is grumpy (missing Judge Judy) and tells me the best way I can help is to take the babies away and he will do it on his own.  I comply.  Cue much banging and swearing from bedroom.  He is gone for a while, but I can hear him muttering under his breath and slamming stuff around on the baby monitor and I can feel his exasperation as he can’t get the stupidfuckinggoddamn screws in.  I take the babies outside and try to make them as quiet and angelic as possible.  Finally he is done and he comes back and gives me that look.  You know the one.  The ‘I’m going to kill you dead’ look.  He resumes couch position.  I tell him how wonderful and awesome he is and love on him.  T giggles and hugs him and H rolls over.  Marriage is saved.  Judge Judy is over.

 

Now that is all done, I get T to help me bring some of his favourite things into the new room and tell him he is going to sleep in H’s room now.  He is super excited and wants to get in and out of his cot.  In and out.  In and out.  Things are looking good.

Heading towards bedtime I begin to panic, but I needn’t have.  T went to bed quite happily.  He talked to himself and his bears for about 10 mins and then went to sleep.  I finished nursing H and then took her in.  T stayed asleep.  H was sleepy and murmured to herself for a few minutes and then she went to sleep too.  T didn’t wake up! No one cried, no one screamed, no one danced around in their cot like a crazy baby.

So far so good.  It’s been 3 hours and they haven’t woken each other up yet.  Fingers crossed for me please!  Tomorrow may be fun.  Not sure how we will go with the middle of the day nap.  That could be tricky.  Please if you have any advice or words of wisdom about babies sharing rooms please impart!

I will start taking nursery redecorating pictures soon and post when it is done.

This is me, but this is not me.

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I’m not quite sure how it happened but I got a little bit fat.

 

Oh yes, that’s right, I remember now, I had 2 babies and I ate a whole heap of cake.  Then I ate chocolate and another cake and then some chocolate cake.  But that is fine, I like cake and I enjoyed eating it but I am not too keen on my new body.

Back in the day, way back when, I was able to eat cake whenever I pleased and kept my svelte figure.  So why not now?  Plain and simple – I’m now OLD (and I had 2 babies, but mostly it’s because I’m old).  The old metabolism just ain’t what it used to be.

Somewhere between going to university, getting married, working, trying to conceive, two more babies and getting old, I lost my ability to eat cake without wearing it on my ass.  And belly.  And thighs.

 

This was me not too long after D and I met.  So about 9 years ago.  I’ll be the first to say it, my body was a rockin.  I was fit, I was strong and looked pretty damn fine in a bikini.  Probably had a lot to do with how much time I spent in the gym.  I guess once I got a boyfriend and a LIFE and a lot more busy, I let the gym slip a bit.  Well, truth be told, I let it slip completely.

With a mini K and a mini J

With a mini K and a mini J.  

 

It is pretty safe to say that I will never look like that again, but now that my body is all mine again, I would like to try and get as close to my former healthy me as I can.

You know how people always say that breastfeeding will help you loose weight?  That may be true, it certainly did when I had K, a million years ago, but that was when I was young.  Now, the years have not been that kind to me and while you do need to eat a few extra calories to make that yummy boob milk for your baby, I think I really was going overboard with the cake.  And brownies.  And cookies.  I hang my head in shame.

 

So here is the plan.  This is operation reclaim my hot bod.  I actually don’t have a real plan except trying to watch what I eat and EXERCISE.  I’ve started counting calories to try and keep my cake habit under control and I WILL MAKE TIME TO EXERCISE.

I’ve started the 30 Day Shred.  The first day nearly killed me.  When Jillian Micheals began with push ups I nearly died but I made it through.  H was propped up on the couch watching me, T joined in and Chum decided that lying in the middle of the floor was the perfect spot.  Yesterday I recovered because every muscle ached, but I did day 2 today and wasn’t even as hard.  Except the crunches.  They were really hard as I had a great big lump of T who thought sitting on my tum was fun.

 

To keep me honest and motivated I am going to show you all me in a bra.  I am mortified by these photos but now that I am showing the world my wobbly bits I will work even hard to make them disappear so I can come back here and post my after photos.

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Blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I’m smiling but only out of embarrassment.

 

I going to aim for the 30 Day Shred 5 times a week, and I am going to try running.  I hate running with a capital H, but as much as I love walking it just doesn’t DO ANYTHING for me any more.  I already have my 2 afternoon walks a week locked in so I am going to attempt the Couch 2 5K during that time so I don’t need to find the extra time to run.  And if I can’t handle it, well I can just walk it.

I’m just dying to feel fit and healthy again and look sexy in underwear.

 

T wants an active Mummy too, so he has been helping me do my workout.

Wait.

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Finally the ‘sick’ has left our house, after infecting each one of us in turn.  At the moment we are all relatively healthy and I cling onto every strand of hope that we stay that way.  Having one sick baby is hard enough.  Two sick babies is no joke.  Throw in the mix two sick medium doodles and a husband with a serious case of man flu, while feeling like death yourself, and you’ve got a whole crap sandwich with a side order of barf.

I’d been waiting for the sick to pass so I could catch up on my lost sleep before getting reacquainted with my blog.  An now Blog, and my friends, I am feeling refreshed and you will have to wait no more.

 

The word wait is a fairly common word.  It is used in many contexts.  Wait for me.  Wait for the bus.  Wait at the traffic lights.  Wait for the kettle to boil.  But I have found that lately, especially in recent months, I have used it in excess.

 

Wait! Come back here with that toilet paper!

No T, wait until Mummy is finished on the toilet before flushing it for me.

Yeah and ideally, it’s best to wait until I have stood up before trying to close the lid.  Yep, if it didn’t close the first 10 times you tried, what makes you think it is going to close the next 384 times?  Mum’s body is still in the way, but good on you for being persistent.

T wait!  Don’t unlock the toilet door yet, Mummy isn’t finished!

Wait!  I haven’t put your nappy on yet!  OK, fine be naked for all I care.  (sigh of exasperation)

H, why do you wait until I take you nappy off to wee on your change table?  Go on have a giggle.  Lucky you are so cute.

And now, H, why do you wait until I put a fresh nappy on to poo in it?

Yes H, I can hear you but you have to wait until I finish with T.

Yes T, I can hear you but you have to wait until I finish with H.

Oh my gawd, can you wait until I’m ready to catch you before you launch yourself off the couch onto me?

Sweetheart, I know you are hungry but I can’t feed you and drive at the same time you just have to wait.

Can you wait 5  minutes before your next tantrum?  I need to recuperate.

Minecraft can just wait until you have cleaned that pigsty you call your room (yes, I have become my mother).  And while you’re at it, do your homework!

Look K, you can be a big boy and make your own sandwich, or you can just wait until I am finished nursing H.  Yes I know that I make the best sandwiches, but come on Dude, seriously it’s just two bits of bread with stuff inside.  How are you ever going to be a good a sandwich maker if you never practice.  To quote Adventure Time, ‘sucking at something is the first step toward being sort of good at something.’

Dishes can wait.

Vacuuming can wait.

Sometimes showering has to wait.  Cleanliness isn’t all that important is it?

Sorry D, you have to wait until I hang the nappies out for snoo snoo.

 

Just wait, wait, wait, wait wait.

I am only ONE PERSON!

 

I am trying my darndest to be a patient person and for the most part I think I do pretty well.  I do loose my cool from time to time and then beat myself up for it but I have come to realise that I am doing the best I can and that is good enough.  I love my all my doodles and my corn chip to the moon and back and wouldn’t have life any other way.

fathers day

Shit mum.

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It is extremely hard for me to write this post.  I am about to admit things that I can barely admit to myself, but if I don’t get this out soon, I will quite possibly explode and unleash my inner bitch onto the people I love the most and be an even shittier mum than I already feel like I am.

Hands up who has had the dream that you are trying to get somewhere but you just can’t push through the wind and atmosphere that is holding you back?  Like you are grasping at the grass and trees and rocks, trying to pull yourself forward, while you dig your feet into the earth to gain some friction to push against, but despite your best efforts the force pushing against you is just too much?

 

That is how I feel.  Or like I am drowning.

 

I don’t even know where to start or how to explain.

 

I don’t feel like this all the time.  Some days are great and when I am fine, everything is wonderful, but as soon as one little thing goes wrong, it can throw me into the biggest funk imaginable and turn me into an angry, depressed, resentful monster.  There is nothing in this world I love more than my family and all I want to be is a good mother, but I losing touch with the kind of warm, loving, fun mum that I want to be.  Make way for the grumpy, yelling, numb, bitch mother.

I feel like I am losing touch with myself.  I am not this person.  Every day I grow another grey hair and lose a bit more of myself.  Every time I slam a bowl on the bench or say ‘for fucks sake’ I hate myself just a little bit more.

I wanted these babies and I love these babies more than I can possibly put into words and if I had my time over I would still have these babies.  I love them.  I adore them.  I would give my life for them.

 

But, here it is – I am struggling.

 

It is not how hard having two babies is that I am struggling with.  Yes, two babies is bloody hard work.  It is the fact that it is relentless.  It never ends.  Looking after the babies is my job, but it is more than a full time job.  It’s a never fucking ending job.  It’s a ‘never get a GD break’ in your life job.  It’s a non-stop from the moment you wake up until you collapse onto your pillow job.  It’s an on call while you are asleep job.  It’s a 24 hour a day job with no pay, no overtime, no sick days, no weekends, no holidays, no ciggy breaks, no time to eat, no privacy to poo in peace, no time to wash your hair, no me time, no down time, no recognition, no praise, no-one to talk to, hairy legs, bags under the eyes, pyjamas all day, mountains of washing, crap everywhere, groundhog day, just barely existing kind of job.

 

I need a break.  There, I admitted it.  I need a break.

 

I need help and I need support.

 

I need my doodles to pick their own shit up and close the fucking cupboards so I don’t have to spend every waking moment picking up shit that T pulls out, and then deal with the tantrum that ensues.  Don’t bitch because you can’t find your clothes in the morning, put them in the fucking washing basket and I’ll wash them.  Just get ready for school so I don’t have to constantly tell you what to do, you’re teenagers for fucks sake.  Is it so hard to put your shit away in the kitchen after you’ve made a sandwich/noodles/dinner/breakfast?  I picked up 18 fucking dirty socks the other day.  18!  Rubbish goes in the bin, not on the floor.  Don’t fucking taunt T with things he wants but can’t have so I have to be the mean mum when I take him away.  Be thoughtful.  Help without having to be nagged.

 

There is rage in me, there is a deep sadness.  I can’t even say why and I can’t talk to D about it.  I just don’t know what to say, so instead I merely exist and smile through gritted teeth and then cry when I am alone.  But I am telling you blogosphere.  Please don’t think that I don’t love my babies, I do.  I just don’t know who I am anymore.  I need help to find me again.  I want to be happy fun mum.  I want to feel good about myself.  I want to feel attractive.  I want a break.

I have conquered my fear of the night nappy.

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I have said it before and I will say it again.  I love sleep.  I love sleep so much that I would marry it, and I love it that my babies love sleep to.  I don’t like anything that interferes with my sleep, be it a barking dog or a farting husband, a mosquito buzzing in my ear or a tap drip drip dripping, a headache or a cold wet nappy.  Not on me, I stopped wearing nappies years ago.  I mean, on my babies of course.  I would not like to sleep in soggy undies and I would not expect my babies to do so either.

zzzzzzzzzz sleep is goooooood

zzzzzzzzzz sleep is goooooood

 

The last thing in the world I want to do now that my babies are both sleeping all the ning nong night for me is put something on them that is not going to hold all the wee.  This is why I had never been all that interested in doing cloth at night.  I am scared.  I am scared of sad, wet, crying babies in the middle of the night.  I am scared of changing sheets and clothes and dealing with a baby that thinks it is then playtime at 2am.  I am scared of the already huge bags under my eyes taking over my face.  I am scared of being a tired, shit mummy and a crappy wife.  Sorry to say, that my sleep has been more important to me than the environment and all that jazz.

 

Now, doing disposables at night has its own issues.  Originally, one of the reasons I stared doing cloth was because of the new stench of death that was coming from T’s butt once he started doing solid food poos and the foulness that was filling his room from his nappy bin.  Now, I put his dirty cloth nappies straight into the nappy bucket in the laundry but I still have to have a small bin in his room for disposables.  I double wrap any morning poo nappies in nappy sacks but there is STILL a lingering smell no matter what.  It is so frustrating!  I want a nice smelling room, especially in gloomy winter when we can’t have all the windows open and airing things out.

T has also stared leaking out of his disposables quite often.  I know we have to cut out the bottle of milk before bed, I have no idea how to do that!  It is the only bottle he has and he loves it so much!  We have reduced the amount of milk to 150ml, do I just keep on reducing it until he doesn’t bother drinking it?  Any advise is appreciated!  Thank goodness, this wetness doesn’t wake him up, but my fear of changing clothes and sheets has still been realised, I just have to do it every morning instead of during the night.  This is not working for me.

 

Leaking nappies and stinky rooms had started me thinking that there had to be a better way.  I tried a more expensive disposable – still leaked and did nothing for the smell factor.  Maybe, just maybe, could it be possible that a cloth nappy could hold more wee than a disposable?

The other thing that got me thinking more seriously about night nappies was simply how much I am enjoying doing cloth now.  I really do like putting beautiful, environmentally friendly, money saving poo catchers on my babies and I am strangely finding myself wanting to potentially jeopardise MY SLEEP to experiment with finding a night nappy solution.

Am I nuts?  Quite possibly, but nonetheless, I decided to give it a go.  I thought I would try both babies on the same night, and crossed my fingers, toes and boobs that they stayed dry and more importantly – stayed asleep!

 

I already had in my stash an unused Cushie Tushies night booster which had been folded nicely and pushed to the back of my cupboard since I first started using cloth last year.  I pulled this out and rewashed it in preparation.  This is a trifold booster that you lay under the existing boosters in the nappy.  It made is butt extra big and was pretty funny watching him waddle around with the extra padding between his legs but he didn’t seem to mind.

Cushie Tushie with tri-fold night booster

Cushie Tushie with tri-fold night booster

A big 'ol fluffy butt and a foot.

A big ‘ol fluffy butt and a foot.

For H, I didn’t have any specific night nappies but had kindly been given a night booster by the lovely Emma on the Bambooty stand at the baby expo when I purchased a pack of Easy One Size Bambooty nappies.  It took me a while to get used to fitting these on H, but now that I have mastered them and found a size fitting that suits her I am liking them very much.  They are now right up there with Bumgenius as my favourites.  I think I love the fit and comfort factor on Bumgenius the absolute best but I really like that there is no unclipping or pulling inserts of out pockets before washing with the Bambooty, just chuck ’em in the wash and be done with it.

Bambooty with snap in night booster

Bambooty with snap in night booster

Another gorgeous chunky butt.

Another gorgeous chunky butt.

 

So there I was.  I had 2 babies bathed and ready for bed.  I took a deep breath and potentially kissed my good night sleep goodbye while getting them dressed in their pyjamas and cloth nappies.  T in his night boosted Cushie Tushie and H in her night boosted Bambooty.  Nice big chunky padded cloth bums.  Trees, you can thank me now.

Honestly, I don’t think I slept a wink.  I kept on expecting them to wake up screaming for warm dry clothes.  Every time I heard a little sound from either of their rooms, I thought to myself, ‘here we go, I knew this was a bad idea,’ as I pulled myself out of bed to put on my dressing gown and trudge off down the hall.  But, those little night whimpers and sighs were nothing more than dream noises, because my two little hippy babies didn’t wake up cold and wet.  They didn’t wake up at all.

Come 6:30 in the morning and babies quietly wake up at their normal time.  No babies are crying or distressed because they are cold and wet.  H is full of sweetness and smiles as I give her a morning cuddle, while feeling every inch of her clothing for that inevitable leak.  Nope!  No leak at all.  I lay her down to change her nappy and I am shocked that her soft little tushie is perfectly dry.  There is nothing wet or soggy down there at all, and no rash!  The Bambooty kept her perfectly dry all night long.  I was really surprised.

Now, H is just a tiny baby, how much wee can she really do anyway?  The real test will be to see how T went…

T is calling out and making his usual morning noises.  A cross between talking to his bears and imaginary friends and calling out to let us know he is up.  I open the door to see a happy smiling face, beaming at me from his cot.  OK, so he isn’t miserable.  He is probably still wet, he is always wet.  I feel his butt, his pyjamas, his sleep sack, his sheets.  Dry, dry, dry and dry.  Disbelief!  No way!

Sure enough, when I changed him, he had not sprung a leak and his bum was soft and dry.  I was totally blown away.  However, these night nappies sure were stinky!  Just goes to show how much chemical stuff goes into disposables to mask that kind of manky urine smell.

 

So there you have it.  I am no longer scared of using cloth at night.  I prefer it, but I am still not a full time cloth mum.  I only have one night booster for each child so I am really only getting every third night in a cloth nappy at the moment.  Being winter with little sun, it takes a while for my nappies and boosters to dry.

There is also the tiny little problem I have that is trying to get my husband to conquer his cloth nappy fear.  As D usually takes T into the shower with him and gets him dressed for bed, he will ALWAYS reach for a disposable.  He is seriously scared of cloth, I think he thinks a cloth monster is going to jump out and eat his face off.  He doesn’t mind taking them off, but for some unknown reason, he just won’t put them on!  I have managed to get him to use them only a few times.  Does anyone else have a husband who is scared of cloth?  How did you get him to face his fear?  Or are they all just big sooky babies?