December 2008

And then I got distracted…

by Veronica on December 31, 2008

So I was about to write a New Years Eve post, but then Paris Hilton came on TV and I was stuck looking at her, trying to work out why she was showing so much boobage…

Hmmmm.

Moving right along…

It’s the last day of the year and everywhere I look bloggers are doing a yearly recap or they are talking about their resolutions or whatever. Which is fine, but really, it’s not something I want to do all that badly. 2008 was great in some respects and pretty downright awful in others and I don’t think I have the energy to recap. Also resolutions? Not something I do or have ever done. Ever. Sue me.

I mean, I could talk about how I have had to put my laptop down twice since starting this blog post to go and change Amy’s nappy. Or that said nappy had the consistency of chocolate sauce just without the delicious smell that one associates with chocolate.

I could also talk about how I just found the hugest chunk of snot in my hair courtesy of Amy who appears to be leaking bodily fluids like a sieve, but even the thought of the cold snot is squicking me out a little, so we’ll just not think about it too much anymore.

What are we left with?

Pregnancy?

Hell, that’s always good for a few paragraphs.

I had been hanging on New Years Eve as a good day to give birth. In fact, it would have been an excellent day. However, seeing as how New Years Eve has only approximately 5.5 hours left to go, I doubt very much I will be having the baby today. Therefore, by my thinking BRING ON 2009!

If I could walk without flinching I would be walking around the property line, stopping every once in a while to do star jumps. We’re officially Full Term now, so anytime this baby decides to appear is good with me.

I kind of miss walking and sleeping without pain and all that jazz.

[And if some smart arse jumps in and tells me that 'well you KNOW you will be sleeping less when he arrives, don't you?' I might just have to throw something disgusting at them. Like Amy's nappy. OF COURSE I know I will be sleeping less, but I fully guarantee that the less sleep I will be getting will be much more restful because at least I will be able to roll over without feeling like someone is cleaving my pelvis in half with an axe. Hmmph. Also walking.]

So yes, very ready to be done and to have him here.

You hear that baby? ANYTIME you want to come out and meet us is good with me.

I had a few hours of contractions yesterday morning, but they weren’t too painful (read: I could still talk through them) and they petered out to nothing.

However I have discovered that trying to use a heat pack while Amy is awake is useless. Someone keeps stealing it while declaring ‘TankYOU Mummy! It’s Amy’s warm! Nice warm, TankYOU Mummy!’

If I heat up both heat packs? She steals them both.

Both heat packs AND the hot water bottle? Yeah, don’t even think about it. They are all Amy’s apparently.

Sigh. Good thing she isn’t going to be about while I am giving birth. She would probably steal all my pillows along with the juice and heat packs.

Toddlers = no concept of sharing, unless they want something of yours. Then sharing is a big deal ['You needa SHARE Mummy! SHARE wiv Amy!']

So yeah, bring on 2009 and the arrival of this little one. Then Amy will HAVE to learn to share and I might be allowed to use my own heat pack again.

[Actual non-humorous updates? My pelvis is more excruciating than ever. We're at 37 weeks now, so I'm counting down the days until I can start to heal again. Which hip is going to hurt on any given day is still like a coin toss though. Everything is more than ready for his arrival, except for my hospital bag being packed. Heh.

Amy is doing really well, she finally clicked that there is a real baby in my tummy. It probably helped that she had to come into the Pregnancy Assessment Centre - PAC - with me Xmas night when I needed to be checked out for funny vision and numb hands. She got to hear his heartbeat as well as look at the posters of the babies in the uterus. Not entirely sure that she has got the concept completely, but hey too late to turn back now.

We also have some sort of virus that has left me chesty and Amy leaking snot and tears and fevery liquids everywhere. Thank god for Panadol.

Also, my camera is broken. Hence the lack of a 37 week photo. Shall need to buy a new camera before I go insane.

And that's me for 2008! Thankyou to everyone who reads here.]

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Assvice for the week.

by Veronica on December 23, 2008

in Amy,Gotta Laugh,Pregnant. Finally.

Do not give your toddler a chocolate truffle and let her eat it unsupervised. Just because she normally eats chocolate in an instant doesn’t mean she will this time. In fact, chocolate truffles make pretty awesome body paint.

Don’t try and ice Lamingtons with a toddler sitting at the other side of the bench. You will end up with chocolate icing and coconut all over the house. Chocolate icing also makes pretty awesome body paint.

Don’t expect a teenage boy to be able to wash his hands free of chocolate without covering everything in the bathroom with chocolate speckles. Shower, bathtub, window, wall, mirror, cot mattress -don’t ask-, and floor. All speckley. Pity it wasn’t food colouring, it would have been prettier than brown specks.

If you let your partner put the toddler in the bathrub unsupervised, don’t expect your shampoo to have been removed from the bathtub first. Do expect a pretty smelling toddler and another trip to the supermarket.

Don’t overheat your chocolate. It WILL seize and even when you fix (add cream) it you won’t be able to use it for coating peppermint creams.

If you need to make a lemon meringue pie for Christmas lunch, make sure you have access to a pie dish first. Do not keep forgetting to grab said dish from your mother until it is the very last minute (today) and you need to beg her nicely to drop it around. Also, ask for some cream to fix the stupid chocolate.

Your first loaf of bread using new wholemeal flour will fail. Don’t ask why, just accept it and make another one.

Don’t expect all the Christmas decorations to stay on the tree. Your toddler will pull the tinsel off and run with it until the tree almost falls over. You will fix this by simply draping the hanging loop back up around the top. By the time you do this 10000 times you won’t care what the tree looks like.

If you are heavily pregnant, your toddler will want to spend all her time squashing your belly. Trying to stop her is useless, just go with it. You might be able to breathe again one day.

No matter how sick of being pregnant you are, the chances are good that you will carry to your due date. If prior pregnancies (well, pregnancy) are anything to go by, you will carry past your due date. Stop wishing for labour to begin and suck it up. Do you really want a Christmas baby anyway?

If your 36 week mark falls in the middle of the holiday season, do not expect to be seen for a 36w doctors check until you are past 37 weeks. Content yourself with the fact that it isn’t your fault all the stupid doctors are on holidays too and therefore they can’t complain when you are being seen late.

Any stress you save by not buying Christmas gifts comes back to haunt you when you have TWO days left to get everything cooked and coated and baked and made. However, you can still maintain that the cooking is more fun.

If you spend all day on your feet cooking, the baby WILL drop down into your pelvis and gift you with a very sexy pregnancy waddle. This will also be the day that your partner will have to work incredibly late and will therefore be unable to help with the accompanying backache. Suck it up. The baby will rise back up again over night leaving you unable to breathe and no closer to birthing. Again: Suck it up.

The later your toddler falls asleep, the earlier they will wake up. Fact of life. Do not try arguing with the sun to make it go down earlier and rise later. You can however curse summertime as much as you like. (last light: 9.30pm – first light: 4.56am)

The more tired your toddler is, the more needy they will be and the less likely it is that you will be able to get anything done or breathe.

And finally, there are only 2 days until Christmas.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Also, Happy Hanukkah and Happy Holidays to everyone who doesn’t celebrate the way we do. I hope you have a fantastic time.

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Twelve Days of Christmas

by Veronica on December 22, 2008

in Life

On the first day of Xmas my toddler gifted me
A kitten stuck up a tree

On the second day of Christmas my toddler gifted me
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the third day of Christmas my toddler gifted me
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the fourth day of Christmas my toddler gifted me
Four headache tablets
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the fifth day of Christmas my toddler gifted me
Five minutes peace
Four headache tablets
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the sixth day of Christmas my toddler gifted me with
Six loads of washing
Five minutes peace
Four headache tablets
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the seventh day of Christmas my Toddler gifted me
Seven overnight wake ups
Six loads of washing
Five minutes peace
Four headache tablets
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the eighth day of Christmas my toddler gifted me
Eight soiled underpants
Seven overnight wake ups
Six loads of washing
Five minutes peace
Four headache tablets
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the ninth day of Christmas my toddler gifted me
Nine metres of tinsel
Eight soiled underpants
Seven overnight wake ups
Six loads of washing
Five minutes peace
Four headache tablets
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the tenth day of Christmas my toddler gifted me
Ten minutes of screaming
Nine metres of tinsel
Eight soiled underpants
Seven overnight wake ups
Six loads of washing
Five minutes peace
Four headache tablets
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the eleventh day of Christmas my toddler gifted me
Eleven sticky cuddles
Ten minutes of screaming
Nine metres of tinsel
Eight soiled underpants
Seven overnight wake ups
Six loads of washing
Five minutes peace
Four headache tablets
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

On the twelfth day of Christmas my toddler gifted me
Twelve sloppy kisses
Eleven sticky cuddles
Ten minutes of screaming
Nine metres of tinsel
Eight soiled underpants
Seven overnight wake ups
Six loads of washing
Five minutes peace
Four headache tablets
Three stolen biscuits
Two yowling cats
And a kitten stuck up a tree

***

Thanks to Xbox for the idea.

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I keep trying to write…

by Veronica on December 19, 2008

in Life

But then something inevitably happens.

Amy runs up and shuts my laptop lid, meaning that I get distracted.

The tiny little kitten climbs my leg, meaning that I swear like a trooper and have to shut everything so I can pry his needle like claws out of my skin. His destination is generally my hip or shoulder, anywhere where Amy can’t throttle him and he is hard to dissuade.

There are cries of ‘bootiful Mummy, look! it’s bootiful. Pretty shiny bootiful!’ as Amy pulls the tinsel and beads off the tree. It’s all about the pretty shiny bootiful here people.

There are requests for food and drink and then tantrums when the food and drink wasn’t exactly what was requested. A little voice telling me ‘Still HUNGWY Mummy, still HUNGWY, please Mummy Amy still HUNGWY’ even when their is food right in front of her. Somehow the difference between chicken sandwiches and chocolate is made astronomically clear when you are Two and actually requested chocolate. How could Mummy misunderstand so badly?

Then once Amy is mostly occupied, there I things I realise that I should be doing. Christmas baking; washing walls; swearing about the carpet stains; washing everything that isn’t tied down. I might be nesting, but goodness knows having Christmas coming up compounds my stress levels something fierce. Things that I could leave for a few more days all need doing right! now! because damn if there isn’t only 6 days until Christmas (and 36 weeks), then there is New Years to get through, then we have 3 weeks left until my due date. If the baby decides to hold on that long.

If.

There are big things left to do, like buying a car that will actually fit 2 car seat, buying a car seat, moving the bedrooms around so that ours will fit a cot, cleaning the carpets (Nathan’s job) and making sure that no one falls through the dining room floor in the meantime.

There are Braxton Hicks contractions to breathe through; not painful but definitely intense. There are ribs to be kicked and I need to try and remember to shower so that I’m not found at the end of the week, unwashed with tangled hair and a scrubbing brush in my hand.

And at the end of the day when I am able to sit and relax and not have to shut my laptop lid eleventy hundred times, there is a bed calling me.

None of this is conducive to writing blog posts. (so that you know, I have been interrupted 12 14 times while writing this much already)

But we’re all good here. Busy and a little stressed and it’s hectic, but we’re holding up. Nathan is working long hours so I’m not getting any backup and we’re just hoping like mad that he doesn’t have to work this weekend, or over Christmas.

Everything is on the countdown. 6 days until Christmas and 34 days until I’m due.

Eventually I will have time to stop and take a breath. Until then you can find me pottering (slowly. v v slowly) around my house, cooking and cleaning and ignoring requests to watch the Banana’s in Pajama’s DVD for the thousandth time.

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And we’re off to see the Wizard!

by Veronica on December 13, 2008

in Life

Or more correctly, the geneticists at the Hospital.

My GP who admitted straight away that he didn’t know anything about EDS – and then asked me how to spell it so he could google it – was a little hesitant to agree that I may or may not have EDS, because there is normally a family history associated with it.

That is, until my Dad* stepped in and mentioned that him and both his sisters had all had very similar symptoms as teenagers and that one of my aunts still suffers from CFS like symptoms.

All of us with no solid diagnosis. Although that may have something to do with the fact that Dad and his sisters were never taken to the doctor for any of this.

What can I say, my Gran is a bit … strange – and not in a good way.

So, once my doctor heard that there was indeed a strong family history of similar symptoms (Gran was sick as a teenager too and as an adult, although Dad says she whines so much about everything you never know what is really going on) he was more inclined to believe that EDS is a distinct possibility.

And we’re back on the medical roundabout in the hope that something shows up this time. Sigh. I have no idea how long it will take for me to get seen because as of next week all the clinics at the hospital will be taking 2-3 weeks off. My doctor isn’t hopeful for an appointment being before the baby arrives, but hey, maybe that is for the best.

I had to laugh, the doctor mentioned that ‘I would have thought that if one has EDS and is super stretchy, that child-birth wouldn’t be super easy’. He did look slightly abashed when I told him that I didn’t have a hard time birthing Amy at all. I wasn’t game to mention the fact that my Aunt had one of her babies in her own bed just as the Ambulance arrived. Yeah, we don’t have trouble birthing babies at all.

Not to mention the fact that I ended up at the physio for a pelvis that was separating and twisting about 10 weeks earlier than it should have. (Pelvis has been hurting for about a month+ now for anyone counting down the weeks and wondering why I said 10 weeks when I have only 6 weeks ish left to go).

Oh yeah, only 12 more sleeps until Christmas! Have you got it all together yet? (I don’t).

And that horrid baby widget thing that I refuse to put on my sidebar, but still occasionally check on with my due date tells me that I only have 40 more days until my due date. We’re on the count down now baby.

—

*Dad had an appointment at the same time, so I asked him to come in with me while I talked to the doctor. I suspected that the doctor probably wouldn’t take me seriously unless I had Dad there to mention about him and my aunts and whoa, I was correct.

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