Out With the Old...

To all my followers, thank you.
I feel special having you guys with me.
I am, however going to stop using this blog. Because *drumroll*
I bought myself a domain name!

http://www.tattoomummy.com/

It's all a bit exciting!

And, I have a giveaway happening over there too, so I think you should definitely come and join me over there. Here's the link to my giveaway:

first post giveaway

Can't wait to see you all again

Letters to Dexter - 22 months

Dear Dexter,

You are 22 months old today.

We've jus started toilet training you. You are so clever. Although, you do say "farty" when you need to do a wee. We'll explain it to you one day.

You love your little sister. Whenever you're going to bed you're constantly calling out Love you Lola, love you Lola! You always try to give her kisses and cuddles and tell her to smile. You hold her hand and tell me to be careful with her. You are just so precious.

You love daycare and Mr. Dan. You get so happy when you are going there - you tell me all about Miss Annie, Miss Abbie, Miss Helen and Mr. Dan. You've made friends like Chad, Tahlia and Noah. There are other names too, but I can't quite pick them up when you tell me.

You still love hanging out with Grandad. You always want to be in his boat or his car or his tractor. You are constantly talking about how he is going in the car. "Grandad going car bowling, bowling car." that's what you tell me.

Your talking is so amazing. No one would believe you aren't even two yet.

I love you.

I love watching you grow. Sometimes you can be trying - as all toddlers can be. But you are so beautiful, smart, funny and gentle that I can't stay cranky at you for long.

Love Mummy

Internet Pen Friends.

I've missed blogging.

It's made me realise how much I rely on the world wide web for my friends.

I'm torn between feeling depressed about that and feeling glad that the internet has allowed me to continue building relationships with my friends and also develop new ones.

I think I'm leaning towards the feeling glad.

Not having the internet makes me feel as if I'm not able to recieve letters from penfriends that I'm used to recieving letters from every day.

It also makes me feel like I can't send my letters either.

I miss reading about other people's lives... As creepy as that sounds.

Reading other mummy blogs makes me laugh, cry and all in between. It is my time to sit down with a coffee and hear stories from friends that make me feel like I'm not alone. Stories about toilet training. Birth stories. Stories about children growing up. Reading foodie blogs inspire me in the kitchen. They are my time to sit down while I'm preparing dinner and make me think "oh, I could make that!" Reading stories about people's work day, that difficulties and triumphs of every day life - remind me that there is life beyond children. That I need to sometimes be more thoughtul of my friends who don't have kids.

Blogging opens up a whole window to friends all around the world (although I'm sure I don't have readers from outside Australia).

I don't even know what I'm trying to say really.

I guess the blogging world allows me to have coffee with the girls, every day of the week. We don't have to be in the same place, or the same time zone, or even the same country. They don't mind if my kids are being feral, or my house is a mess or I'm still in my p.j's.

Of course I'm not saying my real life friends aren't that wonderful as well. They are. My friends are the best I could ask for. they don't mind about feral kids or messes either. But one can nevr have too many friends, right?

Fitness Risotto

I'm three days into my fitness kick.

Can it be called a fitness kick yet? Is it a hobby? A faze? What's it called after only three days?

A start. That's what I'll call it.

I was planning on joining the gym, but I haven't even managed to get the meeting to join! So I decided to make the most of what I've got. Which is a lot easier than I thought it would be. We have one of those home gym thingos in the shed. We also have a Wii Fit. So far I've done an hour 1:15 on Thursday on the Wii and 60 reps of chest press, arm pull downs and 40 leg lifts (my legs are weak). Same on Saturday.

It's made a difference. I can feel it. I'm more patient, more enegetic. I feel better about myself and hold myself better. I actually want to excersize.

Which is surprising. I'm uhh...

 Lazy.

Won't even try to sugarcoat it. Why bother? It won't help me at all. It's not going to help me be the mum running around with her kids at the park. It's not going to improve my blood pressure...

So I'm going to stop lying to myself.

And I hope that I keep this up. I'm sure I can, because it's all done at home. I don't need to go anywhere or pay any money to do it.

So now I just need some healthy recipes to go with my excersize.

Here's a favourite risotto recipe. (Risotto is healthy, right?)

base recipe found at bestrecipes.com

Ingredients:

·         30g butter.

·         1 onion chopped

·         3 cups stock

·         1 cup aborio rice

·         1/3 cup grated parmesan cheese

In a large deep sided microwave dish (I used my Tupperware Ultra Pro - I haven't done a plug in AGES and this product is amazing - google it) melt butter on high for 45 seconds. did I mention this is a microwave recipe?

Stir in onion and cook on high, uncovered for 2 minutes.

Add rice and mix in until well coated with butter. Cook on high for 1 minute.

Add stock and cook on high, uncovered for 10 minutes. Stir well.

Cook on high uncovered for another 8 minutes.

Remove from microwave and stir in parmesan cheese and season with pepper if desired. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

To this recipe I added a very ripe avocado, chopped and mixed into the risotto so it's almost mashed in, and four cooked chicken thighs chopped up. Amazing.

The recipe says that it only feeds 2 people, but I think it would easily feed four.

I'm going to attempt a chicken and mushroom version today, will let you know how I go.

(Seriously though, IS risotto healthy?)

The Lies I Tell

We all tell little white lies. Usually, to the people we love the most. Usually so we don't hurt them. But sometimes, we just need to get them off our chest. So here I go:

The lies I tell him.

1. It's fine.

 It's not fine. It's never fine. I'm pretty sure everyone tells this lie. "It's nothing" comes under this as well.

When I say it's fine, I'm usually annoyed about something little, like he's playing the Playstation while I have one child strapped to me in the Hugabub and I'm trying to wrangle the other into his pyjamas and he deifinitely isn't cooperating. It doesn't matter that Pat has usually just finished cleaning the house if this is what's happening. My mind doesn't take that into account when it gets pissed off. I say "It's fine." because I don't want to argue about something stupid.

2. I don't mind.

This is usually about a number of things. From the movies we watch to him not being a fan marriage. I don't make a fuss about the movies because I'm pretty bad at picking movies - plus any movie we watch is us spending time together sans children, so why would I complain? (corny hey). There's also no point me complaining about him not being all for marriage, because nagging him about it will only make me seem like a terrible candidate for marriage anyway!

3. I'll be ok.

Usually said when he (very rarely) wants to go out and have a night out with friends. Sometimes he sleeps over so I don't have to get up with the kids in the middle of the night to pick a drunken Daddy up from god knows where. I say I'll be ok because I want him to go and have fun - he does so much around the place. He never even gets cranky if I come home with four pairs of shoes when I went to get groceries. So if I tell him I won't be ok, that my anxiety plays up as soon I don't know where he is/what he's doing, he wouldn't go. And I don't want to do that too him.

4. Who said you were getting lucky?

It's a bluff. He's irresistable.

5. I don't get jealous.

I do. Extremely so. Not because I think he'd ever do anything, but because along the way I've been told I don't deserve to be happy and I've come to think that maybe this person is right, deep down. I'm always expecting Pat to one day tell that he can do better and up and find someone funnier, prettier, who cooks better. Him not believing in marriage helps this insecurity. Stupid brain

Those are the only lies I tell him.

What do you lie about?

Someone Else's Story

I have a tragedy that I am unfortunate enough to be a part of. It isn't even one of those comedy sort of tragedies so you can feel good along the way. It is just plain sad.
It makes me heart feel squished and my throat hurt.
But it's not my story to tell. So instead, I'll tell you about one of the main characters.

She is brilliant. An inspiration.
She is beautiful in a way she doesn't see.
She gives the best hugs in the world.
She would give you her last $5 if you needed it. Even if she needed it more.
She works really, really hard. I'm talking 14 hour days 7 days a week.
She loves her children a lot.
She loves her husband a lot too.
She never has any objections to you calling five times a day just to chat, or because you are lonely. She'll talk if she can.
She gets up every morning to trudge off to work, where sometimes she's yelled at and occasionally sworn at. All with a smile on her face.
She has a wonderful smile that lights up her eyes.
She is a wonderful mother.
She is MY mother.

And I love her very much.

The Bottom Line

Budgets scare me. I know. silly, considering my blog name is Bubs Under Budget. I guess I never had a problem with my $50 budget, because I always knew I could go over. It wasn't a big deal if I did.
A little challenge for me, that wasn't that big a deal if I didn't do it one week. They scare me because they are so black and white. Or black and red, as it may be. It is so in your face about where you lack self control to not spend you money. Or maybe that's just how I see it?

The thing is, I know my weakness. Ironically, (remember the 50 budget) it's grocery shopping. I LOVE wandering the isles, imagining up all sorts of foods I could create for lunches and dinners and snacks. Which wouldn't be a problem... IF we hadn't moved into my parent's house to save money and pay off debt. Sooooo while I guess I have the money to wander the isles, I definitely shouldn't.

If I don't wander the isles, I can avoid the confectionery one. Full of tempting chocolatey goodness, musk stick sweetness and guilt reducing health and fitness magazines at the other end. I could avoid the baking isle so I don't pick up chocolate chips just in case I feel like baking. Or cake mixes because they are on special.

Look at that. I'm avoiding my budget and I don't even have my wallet on me!
So, the deal is (without being to specific) we have about $33,000 debt. $27,000 of that, I'm ok with. ($24,000 being a car with 2.9% interest that will be paid off in 4 years and $3000 of that being 50 months interest free, which will obviously be paid off during that time.)
The $6000,  I'm not ok with. Because there is no reason we should have it... Credit cards.
They seem like such a good idea at the time, but it's just a big trap. Even if you get one just in case. It never ends up being just in case. There'll be a situation that you don't have the money on you, so it goes on the card. And there it starts.
ANY WAY.
So, we've done all the maths. We've written down what is incoming and outgoing.
And you know what? I think when you have less money, you spend less money. That's how it seems to work with us anyway.

If we have some extra money, it's as if we feel we can relax a little bit, which in turn has us spending extra, so that we end up dipping into the usual money that's already allocated. (made possible by said credit card).

Fingers crossed we stick to our budget this time. I want to have our savings for a house.

Do you have a budget? Do you struggle to stick to it??

And yes, I realise it's a little bit sad that grocery shopping is the thing I usually struggle to contain my spending on. I enjoy cooking, ok?

I have Learnt

I used to think being a mother was easy. of course, I didn't have children at that point. And while parts of it are easy (like when they're sleeping), a lot of it is pretty tough.
So, what I now know about being a mother:

• People will judge you, know matter what you do. 
• Society expects you to forget who you are as soon as you have children. All of your time and effort is meant to go to them.
• You never hear "how are you?" first. It's always "How are they doing?"
• I must have broken my mother's heart a thousand times.
• Kids are just little balls of mess in a cute outer shell. It's ridiculous.
• Never change the nappy when you first get whiff of the smell. There's more coming.
• Toilet/bath/showers will be shared with little people from now on in.
• Kids can do adult sounding farts. Usually done in the middle of shopping centres and other opportune places to embarrass Mummy.
• We are expected to make it look easy.
• The quickest way to get a toddler to eat something is to tell them bed is the alternative.
• disney movies off by heart.
• To never assume that when the toilet training toddler tells you he needs to do a poo, that he actually needs to do a wee and tell him he can just go outside... Unless you want to have to clean the deck.

What have you learnt?

Anxiety, Awkward and Antisocial

I get anxiety.
I hate it. As anyone with anxiety does.
It's better now than it used to be. At one point, I shook if I left the house.
Even among my closest friends, I'd panic if I wasn't in my environment and I'd have to leave. I'd feel my heart start pounding and racing. I'd get hot. I'd feel dizzy. I'd feel like I needed to cry.
Put on top of this always having my blood pressure in the back of my mind - runs in the family - I'd worry more about what the anxiety was doing to my blood pressure.
Which would make it worse.


Like I said. I'm a lot better now.
But there's things that set me off. Like people you don't know talking to you in inappropriate places e.g.
Doctor's Surgery (where I went to get my BP situation assessed). Waiting room scene went something like this:
Lady: What a gorgeous little girl!
Me: Thanks.
Lady: She looks new?
Me: Six weeks.
Lady: Gorgeous. (At which point the conversation should have drifted into a comfortable silence)
Lady: My son was little like that. my daughter wasn't so little. She wasn't as cute as her either, but she's beautiful now. (said daughter was sitting right beside her) That's why we're here. She's getting pains in her shins. I think they're just growing pains, because she was short and then she just shot up! She went from having size 6 feet to size 9 overnight! You're tall, aren't you? Did you ever get growing pains? Do you remember what it felt like? How long did they last? Oh, your daughter will be lucky if she ends up tall like you. I'm not very tall at all.
Me: Awkward.

Does she not realise how awkward I feel? I'm not responding to her questions at all. I'm starting to panic. Please leave me alone. I don't particularly like social situations in places I'm not used to being. I don't like having conversations about these sorts of things with strangers. Please. Stop. Talking.
But of course, I don't SAY any of that, do I?

No, instead I sit there and try not to freak out, then get called into the doctor and get told my BP is 150/100.
How do I explain to him "yeah, probably because the lady in the waiting room wouldn't stop talking to me so I started panicking."
Crazy....


 Pushy sales assistants set me off too. Yesterday I went to buy Marvel VS Capcom for the ps3.
There was a new guy there, along with the guy (Steve) who was normally there. The new guy is a manager at another store.
He kept asking if I wanted to pre-order any games. To which I cleverly responded (remember I'm BUYING a game) "I don't game." AWKWARD. I then had to explain I'm more of a computer games kind of person. He then went into a big spiel about the new computer games being released. I started to panic. Me "I play WoW." please shut up
THEN he talks about the WoW like games coming out. Meanwhile Steve - wonderful man that he is - said to the other guy, "hey, you leave her alone, she's MY customer." (being friendly of course) so other guys wanders off occasionally mentioning a game in my direction.

THANK YOU STEVE.
Steve then has a conversation with me about a couple of games coming out that it's possible I may like, because he has bothered to ask about what style I enjoy. Not Awkward. Panic gone.

A lot of this leads me to be anti social. Going out and seeing my friends is sometimes a big effort for me. Not because I think they are an effort to deal with (if I did, why would I have them as friends??) But because I struggle to be in places that I don't feel in control. Not only that, I worry about not seeming in control. I worry that people will think my child is a feral, if he throws a tantrum. My child is NOT feral. He's a little boy who can't quite communicate what he wants so he's frustrated. Don't judge either of us! 
The silly thing is, I KNOW my friends don't judge me. I know they think my son is well behaved. But I still worry.
And the beautiful thing about my friends? They worry about me. They tell me when I'm being distant. They tell me when I'm being silly.
They listen to my fears. They know what I'm going through.

They NEVER make things Awkward. Because they know when to talk and when to just enjoy the silence (as much silence as we can have with 21 month olds).
So as much as I'm sometimes antisocial - they ALWAYS pull me back out.
They help remedy my anxiety and make me feel less awkward and more every day mum. With makes me less antisocial.

I love you guys.

Surviving Motherhood - How I've done it

Sometimes I wonder how I've survived this far with (most) of my sanity in tact.
so here's how I've done it:

• Take advantage of younger siblings who think they want children. Give them yours. (not forever). Babysitter for you and serious birth control for them - Win/win!

• Cook more than you need. So then, when you're too lazy to cook something, you can pass it off as being organised when you pull a meal out of the freezer with "here's one I prepared earlier."

• Spending lots of time at friends houses so mine doesn't get messed up. To pull this one off, you need to bring along baked goods. Trust me, it's worth it. Especially if said friend has a backyard the kids can play in, while yours is constantly damp and full of leeches. (thanks Belinda!)

• Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Or so I'm told. I don't drink coffee. But I do eat copious amounts of chocolate and jelly beans. I figure I'll just use the sugar instead of the caffeine.

• Playgroups - you can hand your feral child off for a couple of hours while you sit and watch someone else read them the same book for the hundredth time. This usually comes at the small cost of a piece of fruit - well worth it.

• Hats. Bad hair day instantly gone. Need I say more?

• Bribery. Don't looked shocked. Who doesn't do it? Luckily, my toddler gets really excited about the prospect of a roll from Baker's Delight, so I'm pretty safe for now. AND if he does get distracted while I do my lolly isle run, I can usually placate him with a box of tictacs. At home, it's bribery with frozen peas and corn. Cuz someone was VERY clever when they made those veggies look like little lollies.

• Sex. Whenever I can get it. Why? Because I enjoy it. Because it makes me feel human. Because it says that there's more to life than singing the same song over and over again, or changing a poosplosion. Yes. Even when I'm really, really tired and the kids and sick and it feels like my eyelids are sandpapering my eyeballs. I'll sleep when the kids nap tomorrow.

• Lying. No honey, there's no sushi. No, those are Grandad's donuts, he'll get cranky. No, the chocolate must be stuck in the machine. Yes, that is a biscuit. Yes that's chocolate. (really an olive).

But in all seriousness. My family - especially my little sisters pretty much jump at the chance to look after their nephew and niece. My friends who I can talk about anything to and who also know when nothing needs to be said.

And the biggest thing that has kept me sane?

Knowing I get to spend every day with him =]

Fuck Modesty

So this morning I showed up for my appointment (late) only to realise I didn't have my referral. Which means I had to rebook. I had fasted 6 hours for nothing!
So I got back in the car and started to give myself a stern talking to about my lack of organisation - in my head of course. (Don't pretend you don't talk to yourself either, as parents it's sometimes the only sane conversation we get!)
And then I thought, You know what? Fuck it. I messed up. I'm not going to beat myself up about it. Society does that enough for me.
We're always told we're not smart enough. Pretty enough. Thin enough. Tall enough. Young enough. Old enough.
So I thought I'd "stick it to the man" and tell you what I'm good at. And bloody proud of it, too.


I am a great artist. Not fantastic, but great enough that people are walking around with my designs on their skin.

I am a great cook. Even my almost two year old eats pretty much everything put in front of him. (the 16 year old sister is another story - but apparently there's no pleasing teenagers, so why bother?)

I have a great relationship with "hubby" - meaning I can tell him when I'm pissed off at him or when I want him to stop playing the goddamn ps3 for 5 minutes  because Dex has done an explosive poo. I don't just stew in it and let it build up. (the frustration about the ps3 - not the poo. Who would stew in poo?)

I am a great mother. My kids are happy. Well looked after. Well fed. Dex is an amazing talker and very smart for his age - daycare told me so. Lola is (mostly) a happy baby. She gets her nappy free time and her tummy time and all the other times.

I look great for having had two babies. Yes, I have stretch marks. But you know what? Who gives a fuck. Please, find me a woman, childless or not that doesn't have at least one. She deserves to be in a museum.
And finally, I have a GREAT life ahead of me. I have gorgeous, intelligent kids. A wonderful partner. A beautiful family and support network.


I deserve it. I deserve to be proud of what I have. What I've worked for and what's yet to come.
Fuck modesty. You should be proud too.

Bad Mumma If...?

A lot of the time I'd rather spend more time with Dexter than with Lola.
Does that make me a bad mother?

It's not that I don't love her. Her little smiles melt my heart. I could spend hours trying to make her smile... If I didn't have another child.

It's just that Dex is so independent. This morning he said "Mummy go now." to me at daycare. I'm being dismissed by a child who's not even two.
If he's doing this, how much longer do I have to spend with him?
How much longer will he be asking to hold my hand? Or for cuddles? Or give me those weird kisses where he grabs hold of my ears and mooshes his whole face against mine?
For how much longer will he ask me to help with his yogurt? Or want to sit with me while we cook?

It's tough really. Either way, I may miss out on something. But for right now, Lola is content sitting with her Daddy. And I'm content spending time with Dex before he decides daddies are way cooler because they mow lawns and chop wood and all that other loud stuff. Is it wrong that I want to keep him to myself just a little bit longer if I can?

Insert Witty Title Here

Apparently that's one of the things I'm doing wrong.
My titles aren't catchy. Buuuuuuttttt... I'm just not that good at catchy titles.
SO.
you'll just have to deal with great content instead ;)

Because I love you guys so much, I'm going to give you TWO, yes you read right, not one, but TWO yummy recipes today. And they are both ridiculously easy.

So. Recipe One:

Chicken & Sundried tomato risotto
You need:
1 1/2 cups rice. (Probably best to use risotto rice, I didn't though)
Chicken. (We had half a bbq chook left over - stripped it and used that)
3/4 cup of sundried tom in oil, chopped into strips.
4 - 5 cups vege stock
1/2 block light cream cheese.
You do:
Chuck first 4 ingredients into the slow cooker on high (go for 4 cups of stock first). Check after two hours. If the rice is still crunchy, give it a little longer. Add extra stock if need be (I needed to).
When rice is satisfactory, stir in the half block of cream cheese - probably best to cut it into chunks for easier stirring.

Enjoy!
This recipe is adapted from one I found here. It's a slow cooker recipe GOLDMINE

Recipe Two (dessert. Or snack. Or whenever really)
Jaffa Fudge
375g packet nestle melts
1 can sweetended condensed milk
Finely grated rind of one large fresh orange.

Melt the first two together in the microwave and stir so they are mixed well.
Stir in orange rind.
Pour into a lined slice tray and fridge for at least two hours before cutting.

(it's very sticky to try and cut - but soooooooooooooo good.)


The fudge was made this morning for some friends who graced me with their presence. And i just want to say I have the best friends in the world. They are so, SO wonderful. They are even brave enough to ask me if anything is wrong. To tell me they are worried about me because I haven't been around a lot lately. To stand up for me if people ask about me. I love them. And I'm lucky to have them.



xx

Weekly Thumbs

I figure instead of doing a boring summary of my week I'd give you all a thumbs up/thumbs down version.
Feel free to add your own in the comments.

Start with the bad, shall we?

THUMBS DOWN

• doing everyone else's washing so that you end up getting stuck with no clean clothes and no sun to dry said clothes.
• 6:30am similtaneous projectile spews from Lola and Dex waking up.
• Dex knowing what he wants but not being able to communicate it properly yet.
• Not having a laundry sink in which to rinse nappies. Options are bathroom sink or hose them down outside.
• Not having an oven!
• People complaining.
  

THUMBS UP

• Dex has started saying love you. It is the cutest thing EVER
• Pat doing ALL the washing. It's insane. I don't know how six people can make SO much washing!
• Getting creative with cooking. Not having an oven has made me look into cooking lots more in the microwave and slow cooker - I even have a slow cooker Chocolate Pudding Cake recipe.
• Mums. I love mine. I love being able to say good morning every morning.
• Special bonds between Grandads and grandsons. Dex loves his Grandad and it's so special him being able to spend so much time with him.
• Getting your inspiration back. I worried about how having kids might hold me back from what I want to be when I grow up. Now, I'm just going to use them as my muses.
• Family nap time/cuddle time.
• one on one time with Dex - especially cooking. He loves helping me cook (he sits in his high chair and I tell him the names of the things we're using and he parrots me) I hope it sets him up to enjoy cooking all his life - help him get the ladies (or the men, whatever he fancies).
• Lola smiled!!!

What are your thumbs for the week?

22 months

Dear Dexter,
You are 22 months old today.
It amazes me how quickly you are growing. This last month has flown by and I feel like I have missed it. And missed you.
You are almost talking in full sentences now. You string three words together all the time.
Your favourite thing to say at the moment is Love you.
Love you cows. Love you grass. Love you mummy.
It melts my heart when you say that.
You also love Lola. You kiss her and cuddle her all the time. Sometimes too much. Like when you climb in the bassinet with her...
You are such a beautiful child. You have the most gorgeous laugh.
Everyone is captivated by your cheeky smile and your curls.

I hope you stop growing up so quickly. I just want to cuddle you forever.

Love Mummy

My life of late

Because I am narcissistic naive enough to think people I don't know care so much about my blog life that they have been wondering what I've been up to, I'll fill you all in.

I had a baby four weeks a go (but you knew that).

I got a staph infection two weeks a go. It's lovely. You should see it. ACTUALLY you should have seen it when I was at the hospital at 2am getting it lanced because it was oozing out my skin. Told you. LOVELY.

We (all of us) are moving in with my parents. And my two teenage sisters. Crazy us, hey? It's... full on, to say the least. I thought it would have been different to the way it is. I thought because everyone is older it would be a little more civil, but it's not. Girls fight, no matter the age.
Maddi (20) likes confrontation... She enjoys arguing. And she hates when I don't bite back. It's SO satisfying to win. (Take THAT! Maddison)
Michellie is a 16 year old girl... need i say more? Except because mum works ridiculous hours, she's not used to someone asking her to clean her room constantly until it gets done. Mum is just too tired. So now, here I am. Because if it doesn't get done, I get to hear Dad yell about it. And life is much more pleasant when Dad is happy. (He stalks around the house and snaps at people who look at him the wrong way).
I wonder if he'd try and ground me now if I pissed him off?

So anyway... I'm now cooking for six. Cooking healthier meals than they've had in ages, because usually they're all eating on the go with crazy schedules they're all keeping. I'm enjoying it, but it's a little annoying.
I asked them (family) if there was anything in particular they wanted to eat at the start of the week. No one said shit.
Then, tonight, I made a chicken pasta (minced chicken, fresh tomatoes, mushrooms, spring onion, white wine, sour cream, some herbs - delish!) and I asked Mum if Dad would eat it. She replied:
"I think he just wants a steak."
THEN FUCKING TELL ME YOU WANT A STEAK WHEN I ASK!!!


I'm not the best lately. I'm struggling.
I don't think I have post natal depression.
It's everything building up.
It's nothing to do with having two kids. I love both of them. Not wanting to shake them or anything.
I don't want them to go away so I can get some sleep, I want everything else to go away.
I want moving house to go away.
I want staph infection to go away.
I want blood pressure issues to go away.
I want money issues to go away.
I want it all to go away so I can get some sleep.

So my kids don't suffer.
So Pat doesn't suffer.
So I don't suffer!

Dolores Rose

You are four weeks old today.
Four weeks that have flown by so fast.
Amongst moving house, having a staph infection and a toddler I feel like I might have put you second a little.
Not that you mind one bit. You are the happiest baby (although you do spew a lot).
I haven't taken anywhere near as many photos as I would have liked to.
It scares me I won't get the time back and I don't have any records of it. I promise I'll get the camera out. I'll capture you in all your newborn glory.
Especially with your big brother. He ADORES you. Every chance he is asking to kiss you or cuddle you or hold you.
He uses kissing you as a way to extend his bed time just that little longer (but it's so cute I let him).
You have started being more alert. You are awake for longer and you're recognising us.
You LOVE your Daddy. You stare at him for ages.

I can't wait to watch you grow. You're beautiful. You have completed our family.

Love Mummy.
x

Still here!

Sorry it's been a while for anyone who actually reads my blog regularly.
This is just a catch up post to promise you I AM still here.
Having a four week old (4 weeks tomorrow - it's insane) a toddler and moving back in with your parents is a pretty full on experience! Add to that learning how to cook for six people and have left overs...

I will sit down properly over the next couple of days and tell you all about it, but for now, just know I'm still here!

x

sometimes, I hate you.

I have a confession.
Right now, I feel like a terrible mother.
Which is better than how I felt this morning.
Right now, I'm sick. I have a staph infection - so I'm pretty run down. I have a newborn who loves feeding for two hours and then throwing it all up again, so she's hungry. But only does it at night. We also drove 2.5 hours home from Pat's dad's house, getting home at midnight.
It's still no excuse, but I thought I'd give you the background.
Miraculously, Dolores slept for a good 5 hour block last night, woke at 5:30am for a feed. Then Dex started SCREAMING.
He was still tired - over tired, but refused to go back to sleep.
He wouldn't stop screaming.
I was exhausted.
I was screaming.
I yelled at him "Sometimes I hate you!"
And then I burst into tears.
Because I don't. And I didn't mean it.
And I instantly wished I could take it back.

What I meant to say was, I hate the way you're behaving right now. Not I hate you. Never, I hate you.
I felt terrible. I still do.
I got him up and gave him breakfast and we snuggled and watched How to Train your Dragon. After a little while I asked him if he wanted to go back to sleep and he did.
We all went back to sleep.
But I still feel so bad.
And so, SO grateful that he is too young to ever remember what I said to him.

Have you said something you regretted to your child?

Make Believe

Do you ever pretend you're not a mummy?
I've tried.
A couple of times. I was bad at it the first time, so I figured I'd try again.

I suck at it.
I can't comprehend how (or why) mother's can pretend they don't have a little person(s) at home that they love and are responsible for and who's lives they revolve around.
It doesn't seem natural.
I understand needing a break occasionally. God knows I do.
The last two weeks would have been hell if Pat wasn't here to help with both Dex and Dolores.

But would I ever pretend I don't have them? NO way.
They are what I was born to do.
I mean sure - there will be other things in my life as well, but nothing as important as them.
Why would I pretend they didn't exist?
Even just for a little bit?
It's like pretending you don't have a soul. Or are missing an arm. Painful and pointless.

If you want to pretend you don't have children, why did you have them in the first place?
I'm definitely not saying you should have your children in tow 24/7. That is just silly. You'd go insane.
Sometimes even going to the doctors is a welcome break here!
I won a $300 spa voucher and I'm planning on getting the 5 hour full treatment.
But will I pretend my kids don't exist? No way. They are the reason I deserve my treatment.


What do you think?
Do you pretend you don't have kids sometimes?

Monday Must-Do's

• Dex Daycare
• Midwife - 11am
• Centrelink 11:30am
• Make Welsh cakes (this is the grandnanna's recipe of the week)
• Stuff for Tina
• Send stuff to Nat
• Doctor for me
• Stuff for Pam
• Quilt to dry cleaner (they didn't clean it last time?!? the cat wee'd on it. We can tell it wasn't done!)
• Stuff to Tupperware
• Tafe application.

As you can see, we have a lot of "Stuff" laying around. HOPEFULLY that *stuff* won't still be on next Monday's must-do's!

What's on your list today?

Blogging

I spend most of my time reading blogs.
Well, reading blogs and facebooking.
I can't help but be jealous of the mummy blogs I read.
Not all of them. Some - although amazingly well written - write about topics that never in a million years would you wish upon yourself just so you had something to talk about.

All the mummy blogs I read, I love. They are all either witty, enlightening, funny and a range of other things I wish my blog was.
They all leave me feeling rather uninspiring.

I had good intentions. I was going to help people stick to a budget with yummy recipes and the occasional life update thrown in. But I haven't even managed to do that.
Hell, I haven't bothered with a $50 budget for weeks. I just haven't been bothered.
How am I meant to help and inspire people if I can't even motivate myself to do it?

Perhaps I should resign myself to the vast collection of mummy bloggers that one just passes over in their watching list.

But oh well. I'll keep writing.
I'm considering doing a post schedule to hopefully motivate me and in turn, turn my blog into the blog I had planned it to be.
I'm just wondering if that would be a little too... predictable though.

One week

This time last week my baby girl was 6.5 hours old.
I can't believe how quickly it's gone already. I haven't even given you a photo yet. So there you go. She looks like a big chubba in that photo hehe

Having Lola has made me realise I was born to be a mum. I can't imagine being anything else. Even when I'm frustrated, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. I don't find myself wanting 5 minutes to myself. I enjoy having my little people around.
I'm amazed I have been given such a precious gift that is all mine.
These little people rely on me for everything. I am their world. It is such an amazing feeling.

Pat has gone out tonight and asked if I was ok for a couple of hours. I think he feels guilty about going out with friends and leaving me at home. But I really don't mind.
I don't miss any of it.
I don't miss smoking. I don't miss drinking. I don't miss talking about pointless crap with people who couldn't care less.
How could I want to do those things when I have these tiny people, who are tiny for such a short time?
Not that I think badly of Pat for going out at all. He does so much for me and the kids that he deserves a break. He's so hard on himself and takes on so much responsibilty it's crazy. He does almost all the cleaning. All the washing and folding and putting away. He is really wonderful.

This post doesn't really have a purpose. Except to show you how wonderful my life is. How I feel blessed at being able to wake up to my complete little family and that I enjoy every minute - even when I'm stressed, there's no where I'd rather be.

xx

Birth Story

I started having contractions Sunday afternoon – the 17^th. I got a little bit excited. I waited for Pat to get home and told him I was going down to the maternity unit and see what was going on.

They put me on the monitor and checked out my contractions. They did an internal and said 1cm. Go home and rest – you're probably in early labour.

The contractions never stopped. They were enough to wake me up, but never got strong enough to warrant me going back. Until Tuesday afternoon. They were 3 minutes apart and lasting about 50-55 seconds. Not really painful, but very distracting and uncomfortable. I called the hospital (I had been in that morning for a check up and she sent me around to maternity for monitoring because I was still having contractions and my blood pressure was up). The hospital told me to come in whenever I felt like it, but please make sure they're regular.

When I got there, they hooked me up to a machine for a bit. They did an internal and told me I was only 2cm dilated. I was soooo deflated. The lady obviously could see that and told me that while she was there she'd do a stretch and sweep for me.

And so we bunkered down for the night. I sent Pat home because it was silly that he, Mum and Maddi ALL got no sleep. Maddi slept on the lounge in the waiting room and Mum got a fold out bed brought in.

At 3am the midwife came in and told me that at about 6am they'd put me back on the monitor for my contractions. I asked her what if it hadn't changed. She said they'd send me home because there was no point keeping me there if I wasn't doing anything. I cried. I had been having contractions for almost 3 days. I didn't want to hear about being sent home.

Thankfully, that midwife went off duty and the one I had seen the previous day, Heidi, came on duty. She had told me the day before to come back in the morning and have my baby so I could be the last birth before she moved back to England.

I was still having the same contractions 3 minutes apart and about 55 seconds long. Sometimes they'd be really strong and sometimes it felt like they were petering away to nothing. I worried that the middle of the night news from the midwife just completely shut down my labour mojo. They did an internal and found 3cm dilated. So at least things were progressing, albeit very slowly.

The doctor came and visited me, told me that because I was 37 weeks and had blood pressure issues, he couldn't see any reason to keep the baby in there any longer. Told me he would break my waters and give me an hour to get things moving, if it didn't happen, he'd put my on the synto drip.

He broke my waters (after a student ob/gyn valiantly tried – she was just too gentle!) and things started REALLY picking up.

Those contractions that had seemed like the bad ones were suddenly the ones I wanted back. I had already told Heidi that I would probably want an epidural at the end and she agreed because pain + blood pressure = not too good. Mean time, I had the gas.

The contractions were thick and fast. I never shouted. I had tears in my eyes. I whimpered through a lot of them. Pat was wonderful. He sat there are held both my hands in his and looked into my eyes while I kicked my foot against the end of the bed in pain. He did it over and over again. I'm sure it can't be easy, being on the emotional receiving end of all that. But he did it for me.

I told Heidi it was time for the epidural. They checked and I was 5cm – the doctor agreed to let me have one and the anaesthetist came in. Mean time, the contractions were getting REALLY full on. Mum and Maddi were sent out of the room as they only allow one person in there while you get your epidural put in.

I was sitting on the side of the bed, my back to the anaesthetist and she put the local in. I had a massive contraction. She then put the epidural needle in. I had another MASSIVE contraction. Pat was holding my hands. I looked into his eyes and I said to Heidi "The baby is there, I can feel it, this is a pushing one!" I felt like I was sitting on her head and I arced up on my toes a little. The contraction finished and the Doctor took the needle out and tried to put the blocker in. I said "another contraction is coming and I need to push!" so Heidi told me to swing around on the bed.

From then it was a kerfuffle. Heidi saying "I can see the head!" Her yelling at Pat to "PUSH THE BUTTON!!!" (There was a million buttons.)Me groaning. Her telling me not to push. Yelling at Pat again to push the button. Me replying that I wasn't. All of a sudden, I heard a beautiful cry. I heard Heidi say "there's a baby here!" and then she was on my chest. Pat staring in shock. Heidi hadn't even had time to put her gloves on. Hadn't had time to call the other midwife. Mum didn't get to be there and I felt bad about that. But she was just so, so overjoyed it was still amazing.

Pat's face was beautiful. I loved watching the emotions play out on it. The reaction that she could see the head, the fear when he was told to push the button, the complete shock when she was there. The pure love when he said "hey baby."

IT was so wonderful. Beautiful. Magical. Very memorable. AND Heidi's last birth in Australia.

Dolores Rose Blanch, born at 1:47pm 20th April, 6lb 10oz (3020g) and 46cm long.

Done like a dinner.

I'm completely over it.

I feel like crying.

I want to know this is going somewhere.

I've been having contractions for approximately 30 hours now.

No plug has been seen.

Yesterday at 4pm the hospital told me I was 1cm dialated and in early labour. To go home and wait it out.

I've slept almost 7 hours last night. And here they are this mornign.

I've napped this afternoon - about 2 hours. And here they still are.

But are they going anywhere?!?!

Everything I've been reading says yes it IS going somewhere because they SEEM to be getting stronger.

But maybe that's just my brain tricking me so I don't completely flip?

I just want her out. Because I'm sick of the pain and the inconvenience (of the contractions - not being pregnant) and I'm sick of having no tolerance for Dex and it's all just not fair.

Soon

She's coming soon.
I know it.
I can feel it.
I feel calm and excited and prepared.
I feel like Dexter is ready to be a big brother.
I'm ready to meet this little person who will change my life, just like her brother did.
I'm ready to learn new things.
I'm ready to laugh. And to cry. And to be immensly proud. And frustrated.
I know there will be times I'll feel lost and I know that's ok.

I'm ready.

Still here

Had my reflexology yesterday.

Still here today, a bit more achey than usual.

Had my 36 week check today - at which the Dr refused to do an internal to see how everything is going, because if I am starting to dialate, an internal would possibly kick things into gear.

Fine Mr Dr. I'll do it myself.

I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting - to walk out of the massage therapist's shop and have my waters break. I'm not THAT silly. But I was hoping I'd have more than just a few niggles. In saying that though, a few niggles is a lot more than I DID have. So who knows.

Guess all I can do is wait. I hate waiting. Never was my forte.

I did get to see her today though - the Doctor did a scan instead of the doppler. Yay =]

Monday Must-Do’s

Today, I must do nothing.

I'm giving myself the day off.

There are things I MIGHT do (I'm actually cooking heaps of bolognaise at the moment), but nothing I am going to force myself into doing.

Why? Because today is the last day "off" before I have my reflexology. So I'm not going to make myself run around like a headless chook.

Pat's better at cleaning any way.

I've done some washing up and I've done some vacuuming and some cleaning.

 

I might fold Dex's washing and put it away.

I might finish packing my bag for the hospital (I probably should, that will be pretty important soon)

I might write an abusive note to stick on the tool-up-the-road's windscreen to tell him to stop parking on the road on a corner, it's dangerous, park on the fucking grass.

 

But I might not. And I'm ok with that. xx

For my whole 43 followers...

I am wondering, would you be interested in me doing a recipe a week from My great Grandnanna's cook book?

It has some recipes in there from HER Nanna.

I'm asking, because I'm making Yorkshire Pudding at the moment.

I love the feeling that she would have made the same thing, using the same recipe book I am.

I feel like I'm cooking history.

I'm actually contemplating typing it all out and seeing if it can be published. If not that, doing a "foodie" blog where I cook something out of the book every day.

But I'm worried that would be a little too Julie and Julia.

So just for now, would you like a Great Grandnanna's recipe once a week?

I appreciate all input =]

Monday Must Do's

Might be Monday must did's, because it's the end of the day, but hey, don't complain. OH and you don't get a picture of my list this week because it has phone numbers on it. SO

• Centrelink


• Drs appt


• tupperware


• Masseuse


• beautitian


• washing up


• nappies


• Pat lunch


• cook Dex's food

It sounds a lot more fancy than it actually is. Except Centrelink. Nothing fancy about Centrelink. Or washing nappies actually.

Anyway, so we're booked in for the reflexology. How exciting. And a little daunting! Booked in for the 12th in the afternoon. Does anyone realise that's not tomorrow, but next tuesday?!?! 8 days! My house is a mess! My bassinett is still at Mum and Dad's house! 8 days is crazily close! but ANYWAY.

Apparently, I'd make a good assasin - I nearly killed Pat today because I made him wraps and I put toothpicks in them to hold them together, but didn't tell him. I think the words were "tiny little splinters of death" or something along those lines. Imagine what I coudl do if I actually tried.

I should go vacuum or something. Motivation has totally deserted me. I've done what's on my list, so my brain is obviously objecting to doing anything it didn't know my body would have to do today. But I always feel guilty if I don't do anything on day care days....

Birthing Unit Flash Cards

As I recently mentioned - my mum, my sister and my partner will be in the room with me during my labour. My sister Maddi was in there last time. She knows the drill. My partner Pat was in there last time. He too, knows the drill.

(Maddi's part being she's the one who helps me, wipes my face, distracts me from contractions, Pat's part being giving me his hand and being wise enough to say nothing when I almost break his fingers).

 

My mum will be there this time too. Now don't get me wrong. My mum is a wonderful woman. I've always been able to talk to her about anything. I have always been very honest with her. Which is why I'm making her birthing unit flash cards.

You see - she's had five children. Yes, FIVE. So she's a bit of a veteran of childbirth. She also has a tendency to not think before she speaks. So to help her out. And me, I have created:

 

 

 

Things You Can't Say To Me (will get you kicked out)

 

• Oh stop complaining, I've done it five times
  
• You're hurting me
  
• you got it in there, you gotta get it out
  
• you've done it before
  
• it's not that bad.
  
• you don't need the drugs
  
• shut up and push
  
• can I watch her head come out?
  

 

Things you CAN say to me

• you are doing wonderfully
  
• I am so proud of you
  
• not long now
  
• what do you need?
  

 

Luckily, my mum has a great sense of humour and thinks these are hilarious.

 

 

 

What were your birthing unit rules?

So the plan goes...

Dex showing you all where the baby is. If all goes to plan, this time in two weeks I'm going to be holding my little girl in my arms.

Or at least well on my way to holding her in my arms.

Which is scary. Exciting. Thrilling. Nerve wracking. So many things in my "plan" could go wrong. It could completely not work.

I could go in for observation next week and they could tell me I'm not allowed to go home.

I could go for my reflexology only to have my body decide not to respond.

I could go to my reflexology and have it not happen as quickly as I planned it would, to go to my doctors appointment the next day and tell me they are inducing me.

I COULD go on and on about the different scenarios that may happen. But I'm not going to.

Instead, I'm going to say: When i go into labour, my sister Maddi, my mum Fiona and my partner Pat will be there with me to support me. My mum knows she will be kicked out if she says certain things to me (another blog topic entirely). My sister knows what to do as she was there for my first. And Pat - well he was good at making me laugh.

My little sister Michellie will be looking after Dex. My Dad will (hopefully) be looking after the Bowling Alley (check their website HERE).

I am well aware they may want to give me an epidural again because of my blood pressure. When I had Dex, I only had the initial blocker and that worked well. I plan on explaining this to them.

I am well aware I may feel like I need the gas again. And I am not opposed to this.

No one is going to give me a medal for having no pain relief. So I do not need to try and be a hero about it.

In the same token, if I don't feel I need/want it - I'm not going to have it just because it's there. I WOULD like to not have the gas - it was a weird feeling.

I think this time around I feel a lot more prepared. Prepared because I'm going to actively try and go into labour early, so I can experience it. I'm more calm about it. Dex's labour was 3.5 hours of confusion, not knowing what was happening or why and unsureness of what I was doing. I never had a chance to come to terms with the fact I was having a BABY - I couldn't get past the birth.

This time, I'm ready. Bring it on. I have wonderful support people. I have a realistic view. I have a gorgeous son who proves to me I've done it before, I can do it again.

(if anyone says these words to me in the labour ward - you're out!)

Monday Must do's.

*note* Shit in car - does not mean actually shit in the car. It means get all the crap out of my car, because she was a brand new car 3 months a go and now you would never be able to tell. I'm sure it breaks Pat's heart a little every time he gets in it. (he just doesn't undertsand what having children in your car does to it)

What's your monday Must Do's?

Pregnancy and it's limitations

There are things you expect pregnancy to limit you doing.
Roller derby, getting tattooed, fitting into clothes properly, the missionary position...

I didn't really think it would affect my ability to budget, to support local businesses and to give my family the fresher food possible (I know Woolworths claims to be the Fresh Food People, but I'm sure it's not fresher than the growers markets - sorry!). But it has.

I can't do the markets any more, it's too hot and I get dizzy, my heart beats fast and I get REALLY hot.
Which is disappointing. Not only do I like supporting these farmers, my wallet likes it too. I like it because I know it's fresh and when I'm buying things, I know it's available because it's in season. My wallet likes it because the fruit and veg from the markets is a fraction of the price of the supermarke variety. But I guess beggars (or those with blood pressure issues) can't be choosers.

On the bright side, we got a meat delivery. It costs us $85 for 10kg of meat. And it's good cuts. In that we get roasts, steaks, mince... Lots of things. Makes it 1) Easier for me - the gentleman delivers it and brings it right into my kitchen. 2) cheaper for me and 3) better for me, because all the meat is raised by them on their farm and butchered by them. The family is into it's 4th generaton of butchers or something like that!

So, back to the Pregnancy side of things.
I've decided that I'm going to get massage/reflexology on my ankles at 36 weeks in hopes of inducing labour. I know that you all might think I'm a little crazy, BUT I was induced with Dex at 37 1/2 weeks. We're only having two kids. My blood pressure is up high already. I want to experience going into labour naturally, if it's possible. I don't think that's unreasonable.

I'm sick of not being able to walk properly, because every step sends shooting pains down my back and across my pelvis. I'm sick of not being able to sleep properly. Or eat properly. Or shower properly!
I can't cuddle Dex or play with him like he deserves. We have a shower together every morning and every night. it's our down time. our quiet time together. Water - showers in particular, really mellow him out. He likes to just climb onto my lap and cuddle me. It's getting to the point where this is almost physically impossible and I miss it.

I know a lot of things will change when this little doll comes along, but my shower cuddles are one thing I'm going to cling on to...

Wednesday Wramblings.

It has been one week since my last confession. I mean blog.

Sorry I've been so lazy.
I've been in hospital twice in the last week for baby related issues. Everything is fine, she's still in there, but I'm definitely counting down the days.

I'm not scared of labour. Or of the birth. I'm excited about it. Looking forward to it. It means I will have my little girl in my arms and she will be able to meet her Mumma and Daddy and big brother, who are all looking so forward to meeting her...

I'm pretty impressed with how well my body is holding up this pregnancy - well, except for my boobs, but to be honest I didn't expect them to "hold up" at all since breast feeding. Perks of the job I guess.
But really, I have no (new) stretchmarks, I'm still fitting into my size 10 maternity jeans that were bought at 12 weeks pregnant - this time pregnant with Dex I was pushing 14 being too small in the same style jeans, so I feel good about myself.
I'm one of those pregnant mummas that wears a bikini to the pool. Yep, I have a big, round, moon white belly. You don't like it? Cover your eyes. I don't tell you I don't like looking at your cat's bum face or bad hair cut - same thing.

OH and so, SO over selfish people parking in the parent's spots. SERIOUSLY?!?! Do you park in disabled parking without a sticker? No, because you'd feel bad. So why park in the parent's parking without a child? IT'S THE SAME THING! *please note* I have no objection to disabled people parking in parents parking when there aren't enough spots, or to really pregnant women parking in them either.

I'm having a day where my brain is all over the shop.
I think we're having an eat from the freezer/pantry week because with everythig that's been going on, I haven't been budgeting, meal planning, anything really. And our savings are going down and our spending is going up, which I really don't like or need to be happening right now.

Your Scar Story

You were a great baby. You fed, you slept, you poo'd. You were gorgeous (still are). You were tiny.

Around the two week mark, you started looking like pooing was painful. Mum told me it wasn't normal and I should ask at your two week check up. I asked and they said it was fine, you were probably just working on strengthening your muscles.

Then you started vomiting. ALL THE TIME. At first, I thought maybe you'd caught a bug and felt guilty because I'd taken you out too early. Then it got worse. I thought it might have been reflux, or colic. You were vomiting after every meal. We ended up sleeping you on your stomach from about 3 weeks, because of how much you'd throw up.

You didn't just spew, you projectile vomited. You started weeing pink on Monday 21^st September, the day before you were 5 weeks old. That night you screamed. For an hour straight. A painful scream that broke my heart. I called mum and she heard you and said go straight to the hospital.

When we got there, the triage nurse treated your dad and I like we were idiots. Like we were just stupid, young parents. You were arching your back in pain and she told us we were holding you properly. She told us you were screaming because you needed a singlet. She asked how you seemed to us and when we told her "he's just not himself" she replied with "they change, you know." She told us that babies weeing pink happens sometimes.

We sat there for 4 hours waiting to see a doctor. By that time, you had screamed yourself to sleep. The doctor told me you looked fine. He said that we could admit you then and you wouldn't be seen until morning, or we could go home and if we were still concerned, we could ring up and book an ultrasound in the morning.

You slept between us that night. For fourteen hours. A five week old baby, sleeping for 14 hours. Something was definitely wrong. You even projectile vomited in the middle of the night and didn't wake up.

The next morning, you had started throwing up yellow. I called and booked you an ultrasound, because I was convinced something wasn't right. That ended up in a lot of running around as the doctor didn't give me any forms to get you xrayed, which made me feel like he too thought we were just being pedantic parents. The whole day I tossed up between taking you back to the hospital. You started being limp and unresponsive, so we went in to emergency and I said to the triage "we were here last night and you have to see him, now."

She took us straight through. The doctor saw us straight away as well. Told me he had a suspicion of what you had. At 12pm they made me feed you. At 2pm you had your ultrasound that I had already booked, which showed your stomach was still full. You were admitted, put on a drip to hydrate you, and a tube down your nose in hopes of draining your stomach so you weren't constantly throwing up.

We got told we would be flying out the next day to Newcastle (Royal Prince Albert Hospital). But that day, we had a massive dust storm. The hospital told us they wouldn't be able to fly, we'd have to go by road in an ambulance, then they told us they were going to wait and see if the air cleared a little more so we could fly – which it didn't. At 5pm just as we were finally getting into an ambulance to drive down, I received a phone call from the head of surgery asking how far away we were as they were reading to operate. They had been told we had left at 12pm.

We were in RPA until Friday before you were operated on. They had a lot of emergencies that came in and to them, you weren't an emergency (which I totally understand, you were stable and at no risk of dying).

The wait while you had your operation was terrible. The time dragged on. I tried to go and get something to eat but couldn't. I spent a little time in the Ronald Macdonald room, and I'll never forget how wonderful those ladies were too me. Mostly, my time was spent sitting outside the doors, pretending to read a book, waiting until I could be called to come and hold you again.

Finally the surgeon came out and told me you were in recovery. He told me that your blockage was so significant your stomach was closed over. He said it's one of the worst he's ever operated on and you're lucky to have still been so healthy considering. He also told me that if we have more children, their chance of this happening isn't increased, but if you have children, theirs are

We took you home the next day. You had stopped throwing up blood and were keeping food down. Your stomach muscles had been weakened from throwing up so much, so it was easier for things to come up than stay down.

At 5 weeks of age, you were back to your birth weight. A tiny 2.8kg. I'm so glad that your Daddy and I listened to our instincts, because you could have ended up a whole lot worse. And as for that nurse? Well, I've never actually complained about her. I'm still very tempted to though...

My Little Mister

This is Dexter.

(I did have a photo on here, but I got a creepy comment from a random named "John" so I have removed it).

He is my adorable, energetic, cheeky, life loving, opportunity grabbing 18 month old son. He is completely adorable and a little bit strange sometimes.

There are people in my life who are lucky enough to know him personally. For those of you missing out, let me tell you a little about him.

He likes drinking bath water. And eating bubbles. I'm not entirely sure why, but he is obsessed. Don't worry though, he'll try and share with you by saying "Ta!" in the cutest little voice and offering some too you, you'll feel compelled to pretend drink/eat what ever he's having.

He LOVES animals. Up until recently, everything has been a gog (dog). Now, it's either a dog, cat or a bird. Doesn't matter which one it REALLY is, he will still try and grab it's head/tail/body part within reach and drag it to his face for a kiss. Or five.

He's started toilet training himself. He tells me "poos" when he needs to go to the toilet. This word covers wees, poos and farts. Yesterday he was wet when he got up because he'd woken at 5am. He told me poos and I pretty much said "yes dear" but he was ademant, so I put him on the toilet and he did a wee. He was then running around without a nappy on, told me poos again and I assumed he just needed to do another wee, so I told him "good boy for telling mummy! you just do poos outside, ok?" That's why I had to clean poo off the deck.

He loves to laugh and loves making other people laugh. He will sit with his father and they'll both squeal at each other and takes turns giggling. It's a great game. He will also say "toes!" and try and eat your toes, because you freaking out about a child trying to eat your toes is obviously hilarious.

Dexter LOVES babies. Everything is a baby now. He rubs my belly and says baby! and kisses it. However, the other day I had no shirt on. My belly button has popped out. So he says baby, pats my belly and then ever so gently MOUTHED MY BELLY BUTTON! He thought it was great fun. I was mortified. No more shirt free belly kissings for a while.

He'll also rub his dad's belly and say baby and the other day he pulled up his shirt and made me rub his own belly and say baby. Obviously a little confused at the whole concept, but I think he's doing pretty well for 18 months.

He amazes me every day with the new words that come out. He's going to start day care on monday and I can't help but feel he won't be my little mister anymore. He'll be a bit more grown up and a bit closer to being the beautiful, funny, sensitive, caring and handsome man I know he will be one day.

Thursday Morning Markets.

Well, at least that was the plan this morning.
But when I arrived, my favourite big fruit and veg stand wasn't there. It completely through me out.
I went to the local fruit/veg mart instead, but I'm still a little out of sorts because they've completely destroyed my usual thursday morning!

So anyways, the weekly meal plan is as follows:
Mango Chicken
Chicken Laksa
Sausage Slowcooker
Chickpea Curry
Salmon - is what Pat wanted, but I'm not entirely sure that's what he's getting
Quiche
Pumpkin Pasta.

We have all the chicken and the sausages in the freezer...

Recipe for Mango Chicken:

1/2 red onion finely diced
4 chicken thighs cubed
1 tin mangos (drained, keep juice/syrup)
1 can coconut cream.

Mash the flesh of the mangoes. Then, add EVERYTHING into a slow cooker on low for 8 hours and you're done! So simple! Serve with rice =]