My greatest fear is that there is No PMS, and this is just my personality.

it's been one of those days dear reader. i want another baby. i can't cope with the one I've got. dave isn't putting the cranberry sauce on his turkey sandwich right. he looks at me with what I'm sure is meant to convey love and I screech "why are you looking at me that way". I whine because there's nothing on TV tonight, go down and painstakingly select two DVDs from the video store (notice I still call it a video store despite the fact that I haven't borrowed a video in god knows how long)... only to get home and declare that I don't want to watch either of them and flounce off to the bedroom to read a book. It's days like this I wonder how it is that Dave hasn't cleared out our savings account and run off with some blonde bimbo who would never dare to question why it is that his clothes are still on the freakin' floor when I've asked him to pick them up 64 times..... then again, I've seen the balance of our savings account and I suspect that he hasn't eloped with the floozy because he knows they wouldn't make it as far as Ipswich before the money ran out - and let's face it, no-one wants to get stuck in Ipswich........

an 'alarming' exercise routine!!

a post ago I referred to one of my current mini-projects being a physical activity research project in which I'm a guinea pig... allow me to explain.

as a researcher myself, I'm quite sympathetic to the need to recruit participants to help collect data, so when i was approached to help out with a physical activity project I didn't hesitate. the object being to record your physical activity (or any activities, physical or otherwise) every hour of your waking day. Let me re-iterate that: EVERY FLIPPING HOUR OF EVERY WAKING MOMENT OF EVERY DAY FOR ONE WEEK.....Now, one might think that this sounds onerous - and one would be right. However, clearly my altruism clouded my ability to comprehend that when i signed up for the cause.

So last Friday, Saturday and Sunday, this alarm went off once during the day - to let us practice entering what physical activity (or otherwise) we'd been doing during the previous hour. There's a menu and in the first one you choose a broad category such as transport or the one that I most use house duties and/or childcare.... then it prompts you to get more specific (childcare or house duties or lawn/gardening duties)... and so on until you've got a nice specific task. Most of mine have been "sitting on my arse playing with a small child while singing nursery rhymes" - well not quite but you get my drift. I especially like the fact that you can enter in 'sexual activity' at which point it prompts you to report on whether it was 'passive, light' 'moderate, average' or 'heavy, vigorous, active'... now if one reports 'average' are you then commenting on the quality of said activity or merely the fact that you weren't putting a whole lot of effort in at the time. Who knows. Of course, if I do happen to have sex during the next seven days - which is the lifespan of this project - I'll either be a) lying and not recording it or b) making sure I have sex OUTSIDE of the allotted hours.... the alternative was actually to just record that I had 'vigorous sex' every hour - that'd give 'em something to think about now wouldn't it??

Anyway, so after completing 3 days of practice, things were going well. I was even 'informed' by the PDA on Sunday night that 'tomorrow is your first day' - it sounded quite excited.... so I was too. At 6am the following morning the alarm beeped and I inputed that I had been playing with a baby and eating during the last hour. 7am came and I inputted again... and so on and so forth. By 2pm, I was changing poo-ey nappy, the phone was ringing, charlotte was squirming and crying, the dog was whining for her dinner and .... you guessed it .... the bloody PDA alarm went off!!! I nearly flushed the bloody thing down the toilet.... and it's just gone downhill from there. How does one report on activity when within one hour I may (SIMULTANEOUSLY I might add), fold laundry while playing with charlotte, eati a snack, dress charlotte, put on my make-up and pack the nappy bag so we can get out of the house.....

I am now up to day three of the project and have another four days to go. there will be no sex - I'm too exhausted from reporting my physical activity to actually DO any....aaaaaaaaaaaaargh, there it goes again.....and here I am, sitting on my arse again being sedentary.... all this project has done for me is to point out what a lazy sod I am!! :) oh well, at least charlotte likes my singing...

Projects update...

Well I'm sure you're all just DYING to know how all of my projects are going? No.... well i'm going to tell you anyway dear readers.... because that's just the kind of self-centred gal I am.... :)

1. Being a stay-at-home mum....this is going pretty well actually. Though I am a little bemused by the fact that my MIL tells me every time she looks after charlotte, that charli girl has 2 great long sleeps a day and she just {quote} lays down and goes to sleep {unquote}.... which is a far cry from the 1/2 hour sobbing I have to listen to before she goes to sleep.... so I ask you... just what drugs are they giving her ??? (and where do i get them..)

2. Working part-time (and hence my hubby's mum and dad looking after charli girl 2 days a week).... this too is going okay. I have returned from 6 months maternity leave to a completely different workplace to the one i left... oh sure, the building is still there... but the people have changed. some have started and left again and I've never even met them...there are new faces everywhere and there is a part of me that just cannot be bothered learning any more new names. seriously, my mind can take no more information in and therefore i regret to inform you that if i haven't met you by now, if i do meet you i will be unable to retain any information about you - and hence a friendship seems out of the question. But so as not to end up like a lovely lady in the US who was sacked for discussing her workplace on her blog I will refrain from discussing these matters any further.... those of you closest to me will know of the shenanigans that have preceded my return to the workplace...

3. The backyard.... i would post more photos but i'm embarrassed about the complete lack of progress since last time..... i'll get back to you on this one...

4. hmmm, what other projects... oh yes, the house renovations. we'll i'm just about to commit to a structural engineer to make up the plans for our building application process blah blah blah.... who knows - i just sign the things our architect sends us..... but that will have to wait until I have another $1500 to spend... sorry charlotte, no xmas presents for you this year..... maybe santa has a bigger budget than mummy

5. and finally, the phd. i know you think i left this until last because i haven't done anything but back up dear readers....i've got 8 pages of chapter 5 to 'clean up' and then there's another chapter ready for my supervisor...seriously, who would have thought that i'd be MORE productive when i had a child... hey maybe if i get pregnant and have another one i might actually finish this phd before my supervisor retires (i've been given a 2 year deadline and then finished or not she's dumping me!!)

So there you have it - an update on my 5 projects. Of course in amongst these are little extra projects (read: procrastination tools) such as cooking dinner next monday for a single mum with 5 foster kids to help ease her load, or offering to participate in a physical activity research experiment in which i get to be harassed by an alarm every hour of my waking day and prompted to report on my physical activity for the previous hour (more on that in the next post) or my favourite project of all... sitting at the computer while i'm meant to be thesis-writing googling holiday destinations and dreaming of one day being able to sit on a beach with a daquiri in one hand and a margherita in the other drinking myself into a stupor for seven child-free days................................
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sorry...where was I? oh yes, back in reality and about to go and change a dirty nappy. 'til next time.

It started with a kiss.....

Well it was inevitable really wasn't it that at some point I was going to bore you all with my birth story. There'll even be photos, but don't worry, they're the G-rated ones!!

Well it was Tuesday the 19th of April at 3.30pm and we had our 41 week appointment with Karen, our midwife. Dave and I were both to the point of waking up each morning and looking at each other with disappointment – another night had come and gone and still no sign of any baby arriving. We were excited, eager…….and anxious. And I was beginning to suspect that my anxiety levels were not going to help with starting the process of labour. I had told myself (and Dave) that we weren’t going to focus on the expected due date too much – but that’s easier said than done. By 39 weeks I’d had enough of being pregnant so when that 40 week mark came and went I was disappointed to say the least. By 41 weeks I was beside myself.

We met with Karen to discuss being induced the following week if I still hadn’t gone into labour. We set Anzac Day as the day I would arrive to be induced – and I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn’t come to that – more than anything I was scared of being induced, as I didn’t have faith that I could cope with the pain if it started too suddenly. I raised the possibility of having a ‘stretch and strip’ – that charming term coined to describe having the cervical membranes swept. Karen said she’d do an internal and see how things were progressing. I can’t think of a time usually when one would look forward to an internal – but in this case I did!!

During the internal, Karen informed Dave and I that I was already 3cms dilated (woohoo) and my cervix was long and thin (hmmmm) – I figured this was good news – and she helped things along by sweeping the membranes (do you have a visual here of my midwife and a broom..... it wasn't like that honestly though it felt like it!!). Not the most comfortable feeling in the world, but at least I felt like something was happening. Karen predicted that we would not see the rest of the week out before I went into labour – what a wonderful prediction to our ears!!

So we headed home, grabbed takeout for dinner (fish and chips even though it wasn't Friday, but we're allowed to do that as we're not catholic. i guess in theory the catholics can have fish and chips any day they want too.... hmmmmm). Anyway, I digress - we grabbed takeout and settled in for a night in front of the television. I was feeling quite ‘crampy’ but put it down to the fact that I’d had an internal and didn’t think much of it (but was also secretly wondering whether this could be the start of it!!).

I headed for bed at a reasonable hour – exhausted as usual. I mean I was after all the size of a flipping elephant by this stage. At 2.30am I awoke to the shocking thought that I had just wet the bed!!! I clenched my pelvic floor – to no avail – and then quickly realisation dawned that this must be waters breaking. How exciting (an yet kind of icky too - Dave was pleased he'd put towels under our sheet!!!!) I went to check things out in the bathroom, discovered no signs that anything was wrong and stood there debating whether or not to call Karen. Now I had been told numerous times that I was to call when my waters broke BUT it was 2.30am – and the waters were clear – surely I didn’t have to wake Karen….. did I? But commonsense prevailed and I called the hospital to get Karen paged (actually, it was less 'common sense' and more being worried about getting into trouble for not calling - one would think at the age of 31 I would be over being worried about being scolded but hey). Ten minutes later she returned my call and I briefed her on the situation. She asked if any contractions had started and I realised they hadn’t and told her so. She said that was fine, to try and catch some sleep and we’d touch base in the morning – she’d be at the Birth Centre for her shift at 7am. Trying to curb my excitement I went back to bed – determined to stay calm, get some sleep – and most of all, not wake Dave until absolutely necessary as I knew he’d be so excited (read: anxious) NO-ONE would get any rest!! :o)

However, 15 minutes after getting into bed and getting comfortable, contractions began. Nothing more than a dull period-like pain (sorry for all the men reading this who can't relate to that but whatever) but I knew that this was the beginning. At 3am after a couple of contractions, I realised that I should probably let Dave know as despite days of suggesting he pack for the hospital, I knew he hadn’t so thought I should give him some warning!! Now, Dave is a rather heavy sleeper but nothing will wake a father-to-be faster than his 41-week pregnant wife leaning over and whispering “are you ready to meet your daughter today?” mwa ha ha (evil laugh) He came awake so suddenly it made me laugh – and was he excited!! The light was on and he was packing to go!!! Meanwhile I decide to eat some cereal in case I was in too much pain by breakfast – plus a 3am snack was usual for me as I’d been so hungry during the last few weeks of pregnancy!! I finished my weet-bix to find Dave hauling on his shorts and a t-shirt. I asked him what he was doing and that it was better if we both just went back to bed now we were all organised – that the contractions were still just niggly pains and it could be hours yet. So he got undressed again and lay back down and we turned off the light and tried to get some sleep. Again it was just as I was starting to calm down that I became a little uncomfortable and decide to get up and jump in shower. I didn’t have a watch or a clock with me, but the back pains seemed to be coming quite regularly, about 4-5 minutes apart – but they were still incredibly manageable so I was not sure of what was going on. I had it in my head that once contractions were this regular that I would be in excruciating pain.

I was very aware at this point that my other support person, Sharon, a very close girlfriend probably needed some warning as she had 2 children of her own to get organised if she had to meet me at the hospital. So at 4am, feeling awful for waking another person in the middle of the night, I called her. After telling her that contractions were really regular and close together but really manageable, – she said it could be hours yet but call Karen if I was concerned. I told her I wasn’t concerned I just wanted to let her know that she should probably get the kids to her mother-in-laws in the morning and be prepared to come to the hospital instead of going to work. I hung up and jumped straight back in the shower.

All thoughts of listening to music while leaning over my Swiss Ball went out the window – all I could think about was being under the hot jet of the shower. By this stage, the pain was becoming a little more intense and I found myself moaning through each wave of pain and focussing on my voice instead of the pain. I had the water jet so hot my skin was bright red but I didn’t care – it relieved the pain and the thought of getting out of the shower was unbearable. But I realised that I needed to know just how fast these contractions were coming so after one I quickly jumped out of the shower, ran dripping wet to the bedroom, poked Dave while suggesting (quite forcibly I might add!) that he ‘get up and time these bloody contractions!!’ Poor thing…

I made it back to the shower in time for the next contraction. I yelled out to Dave as each contraction started and stopped so that he could work out how long they were, and how regularly they were coming. The pain was still very bearable but I definitely needed to focus on each contraction. I have only vague recollections of Dave suggesting the water was too hot (I am NOT turning the heat down) and asking how close the contractions were before he was meant to call Karen (I think in all the excitement he just totally forgot!!). Dave said to me that the contractions have been regular (3min) for the last 20 minutes or so (no idea where the time went)…. I tell him to page Karen. After checking I’d be okay, Dave goes to throw all of our things in the car. After not hearing from Karen we suspect the switch never paged her so Dave tries again….

At 5.20am Karen gets back to us, hears my response to a contraction (think panting, moaning and yelling all at once) and says she’ll meet us at the hospital at 6am (in hindsight I can only thank god that it was not peak hour traffic time!!!). At 5.45am Dave comes in mid-contraction and tells me it’s time to go. I suggest through gritted teeth that there is no way I'm getting out of the shower. Not sure Dave knew what to do at that point - he gently suggested that I had to get out (there was a pleading in his voice at this stage). I wait for another lull in the contractions and step out of the shower while Dave starts drying me off - I had no concept of being able to do anything at this stage except focus on my breathing so there I stood like a 5 year old being dressed by someone else....shorts on... contraction...shirt on...contraction ... make it to the lounge... contraction...hop in the back seat of the car so I can lean over the back seat and Dave takes off... For the most part I can't remember the trip to the hospital - I didn't know spatially where we were at any point during the ride - but I distinctly remember a 4-wheel drive following us for a large portion of the trip with his bloody headlights shining through the back window of our wagon. I can only imagine what they thought when they saw this woman hanging over the back seat, dry reaching into a bucket, gritting her teeth and yelling every 3 minutes or so.....(have you got the visual??)

We make it to the hospital about 6am. There were multiple stops between the car and the birth centre - there was NO way I could move during a contraction. One knows however that one is not in enough pain if you can still be embarrassed about having a contraction in front of all the smokers sitting outside the public hospital!! I made Dave stand in front of me and hug me so it wasn't so obvious - though I'm sure I fooled no-one....

We met Sharon (my other support partner) and Karen the midwife outside the birth centre and once there I strip off and head straight for the shower. I've never been overly conservative when it comes to nudity but let me tell you - any semblance of modesty goes out the door when you're in labour. I'm not even sure I actually made it IN to my birth suite - it's quite possible that the cleaner who was mopping the floors outside the birthing rooms got quite an eyeful that morning - I really didn't care.

I won't bore you all with the details of the next hour. There was showering. Dave and Sharon discussed that morning's events (Pope Benedictine XVI had just been elected to the Vatican) and I believe at some point they discussed the fact that it was Hitler's birthday. The fact that our daughter was about to be born on that dictator's birthday is a fact that I could have done without ..... but nevertheless.

Finally I get to start pushing. Amazing. Wonderful. Exhilirating. I reach down and feel my daughter's head emerging... and before you know it (only a mere hour after arriving at the hospital) Charlotte Rose was born. 3.86kgs (or 8lb 8oz for you old schoolers) and 55cms long - she's going to be tall like her daddy. Here she is in all her goopy glory. We call her Monkey....



Anyway, that's the story of Charli Rose's birth. It's hard to sum it all up in such a short time (yes, that was a shortened version)... and nothing really will ever capture the wonder that was that morning.... 7.17am on the 20th April 2005 will always hold a special place in our hearts. Monkey, we love you.

I don't think there's any risk of that.....

Last week I went to see the child health nurse, as I do every now and then - just to update Charlotte's statistics. You know, length, weight. ... all those things that people seem fascinated about knowing when it comes to babies..... I'm not sure why we're so fascinated. thankfully people aren't that fascinated about those statistics when it comes to adults as i think I'd find it quite disconcerting to go to work for example and have people say "so, what do you weigh this week?"... but I digress. So I'm at the child clinic updating the stats and she tells me that I'm underfeeding her..... UNDERFEEDING HER???!!! WTF? Seriously, please refer to the 101 Ways to use a bandanna post, take a look at the thighs on my child and tell me I'm underfeeding her - go on, I dare you......

Beep beep beep (the sound a truck makes as it shifts into reverse)

It's also the noise I make when our darling daughter is moving around lately because yes folks, she's this close to crawling (you can't see but my forefinger and my thumb are about 2cm apart!!).... but of course, she's got her gear stick stuck in reverse 'cause she hasn't learnt how to go forward yet!! Not to worry, I'm sure it will happen soon.

What would be even nicer is if she would learn to pat the puppy gently - "GENTLY" I screech to Charlotte as Sophie (the dog) yelps and runs for cover. Not 2 seconds previous to that she (that is, the dog) was soundly asleep dreaming about whatever it is that dogs dream about - only to be rudely awaken by her ear being pulled.... poor thing. There'll be nowhere she can go soon without that happening - once the munchkin is fully mobile. I've never been a fan of the child playpen, but perhaps I can buy one and put the dog in it to sleep - she should be safe in there!!

Anyway, so I have no photos of the dog hair pulling or ones of the crawling attempts (they happen too fast to photo just yet) - but I do have photos of the latest achievement - sitting... yes, seriously, who would have thought that Dave and i would ever have been so enthralled with watching another human being sit on their bum. I like sitting on my bum - and I'm sure Dave enjoys it too (I mean, he's in IT so there is lots of bum sitting... just kidding hon). Anyway, so here's photographic proof.




You'll notice in the second photo the blur as her head races towards the floor. About a millisecond after this shot I dropped the camera in an attempt to catch her before she hit the floor - but alas I was too slow. There was tears, there was screaming, then there was raspberries on the tummy followed by giggles. Truly, the child is a regular Jekyll and Hyde!! (for those who care, the camera is fine too!)

A star is born....

Well, we haven't even made it to the interview with the modelling agency and already my young one is strutting her stuff on the silver screen. Seen here with Laurie Lawrence - swim coach extraordinaire - she made it to the Channel 7 news on a news item promoting teaching infants to swim entitled Kids Alive Do the Five. She managed not to cry or make a sound while he tipped water over her face - can't say the same though when he jumped in the pool with her....... there were tears then - not because she doesn't like the water, but god forbid because she couldn't see me anymore (and perhaps also because it was food time for her) the bottom lip even made an appearance. Not to worry, Laurie handed her back to me and she was all smiles again. I can't say enough good things about Laurie and his infant swimming messages - to all the mums and dads out there - teach 'em to swim!!

101 ways to use a bandanna.....okay well one way

Recently Rebecca of CravE posted a wonderful blog asking people what they will do with their Canteen bandanna for National Bandanna Day..... of course I immediately thought of ways that I could exploit the beauty that is my daughter and this is the resulting creation!!!





And here with a matching contrasting toga look.....





as I write this with my child on my lap, i find myself becoming increasingly wet and realise that while a wonderful fashion accessory, these bandannas are not absorbent enough to be used as a nappy!!! excuse me while I go and change.......