Sleepless Nights

Author: Veronica

  • Letters…

    Dear Council Workers,

    Hi! I appreciate that you are doing your job, but I would just like to know why the hell you are washing the road. My daughter and partner are both asleep and I am taking the few moments I have spare to do some things.

    Please STOP WASHING THE FREAKING ROAD outside of my daughter’s bedroom window, because if she wakes up and ruins my free time I will be rather pissed off.

    I mean, freaking hell! All you have to do is wait a few days and it will rain! Sheesh!

    And don’t look at me like that when I wander outside to find out what the noise is. Really, I don’t care what you think. Just piss off.

    Thanks, Veronica.

    Dear Seven,

    When there are workers being noisy outside of the house, I don’t need you adding to the noise by barking to let me know that there is noise. I am dealing with it okay? Bark when it is dark to let me know there are people out the front. I would appreciate that.

    I know you just want to be comfortable, but when I get up to let the cat out I am NOT inviting you to steal my bean bag. It is the only place I can sit and use my laptop until I get a desk and I can’t sit on top of you. Nor can you lie on my lap while I work.

    Also, while we are at it, if I catch you peeing on the clean washing again, even though you had just been outside for an hour and the back door was still open, I may just feel the need to turn you into an OUTSIDE dog.

    And the chewing of my underwear. Can you stop that? Please? I am down to 4 pairs of knickers and it will be a few days until I can buy more. I can see you digging through the clean laundry looking for it. Why can’t you chew sticks? Or the toys I bought you? Or your own feet? Because I need my underwear dammit.

    Thanks, Your Owner.

    Dear Amy,

    Thankyou for sleeping nicely this afternoon. Also thankyou for not waking up when the workers were screeching outside of your window. I really didn’t want to have to go and throw dog poop at them.

    Love, Mummy.

  • Opinionated

    When Burgh Baby’s Mom asked me to tell you all about what I like and dislike about blogs, my mind started running at 100kph.

    Burgh Baby’s Mom wrote:
    Hmmm . . . How about talking about what you like/dislike about blogs? Maybe what annoys you and what you love? No names, obviously, just some general observations.

    Then I started thinking about how to write it so that no one was offended.

    The answer? Try not to write about what annoys me. Instead twist everything for a positive look.

    I like and subscribe to many blogs, most are ‘Mummy’ blogs (and I use that term very very loosly because most Mum’s blog about anything and everything). Actually, I think damn near all of them are except maybe a few. See, I like the solidarity we share as parents.

    Hey! Your kid doesn’t sleep either? And you have trouble brushing her teeth? Me too! Yay!

    I like realism. I want to know that you are a real person with a dirty washing pile and dishes sitting in your sink. I want to imagine that you found a bad apricot in the bottom of the fruit bowl that meant you had to throw out a weeks worth of fruit. I want to know that as I am up at 2am despairing of ever sleeping again, you could be too.

    I love humour. Shit happens, at least we can laugh about it, right? Hell, what else can you do.

    I want to be drawn into your blog. When I visit someone new, I generally read the entire front page of their blog. This means that if I visit and your last post was a filler or a ‘I’m sick, go away’ post, that isn’t all I am looking at. Also, I try and visit everyone a second time, but sometimes I forget. If you think I should be reading you and I’m not, then you can email me and yell if you like. I will come visit you if you pester me. I tend to forget.

    Some bloggers, I feel like I could sit and have a cup of coffee (or tea, or tequila) with the author. I like blogs like that. I want people to feel like that here! (Do you feel like that here? Do you? Huh?)

    I must admit, I am a little biased against blogger though. NOT because of the quality of blogger blogs, no, many of my favourite blogs are hosted on blogger and I adore them all (hell, I started on blogger!) but because of blogger’s comment form. I can never make the damn thing load without at least 2 page refreshes! What is up with that? Does it happen to anyone else?

    Also captchas. I HATE captchas with a passion. A lot of the time the picture refuses to load and then I am left refreshing and refreshing until it does. Sorry, I know some of you get attacked by spam regularly and need the captchas to filter everything. I think blogger probably needs to sort itself out some kind of spam filter for people to use.

    Hear that Blogger? Build a damn spam filter and get rid of the captchas already! Geez.

    I know some people choose not to blog about the bad bits of motherhood and life. They never write about sleeplessness and messy faces. We never hear about poo, snot or vomit. Their kids are always clean and happy. No sibling rivalry, no fights, no mess. Sunshine and fairy floss.

    It’s their blog and they can choose to write about whatever they like. However this is my brain and I refuse to implode it with impossibilities I can’t counter.

    This lady says it brilliantly.

    I definitely like more things than I dislike. I can probably count on one hand the number of blogs I refuse to visit (and no, I don’t think any of those people have actually ever visited me). These people tend to be argumentitive and very quick to judge other people. That said, I shouldn’t be judging them on the basis of just a blog. They may be very nice people in real life.

    Sheesh, do you know how hard it is to round up a post like this without sounding like a hypocrite or a bitch?

    Then again, endings have never been my strong point. Sorry bout that.

  • An Indoor Pond

    You know how when you are looking for one thing, you inevitably find another? Well…

    Yesterday I was in the shower and Nathan came rushing in telling me we had a problem.

    ‘We have MICE!’

    ‘How do you know?’

    ‘I saw one. Der.’

    ‘Oh okay. Ummm, let the cats inside then and we will buy some traps when we go out.’

    ‘Uh huh.’

    Bear in mind I was trying to wash my hair while we had this conversation.

    Little did we know that mice were going to be the least of our worries. Heh.

    Soon after I got out of the shower, we had a good look at where the mouse had disappeared.

    Nathan pulled back the lino in the dining room and peered into the mouse swallowing gap. Nothing. He pulled back the lino further and discovered! a board. Not just any board though, it was a board covering A HOLE. In my floor. Where someone had put their foot through the floorboards and never bothered to patch it up.

    Wait though, it gets better.

    Guess what we found in the hole? Go on, guess.

    Water!

    So you know, when Mum said that walking through my house (with it’s slightly uneven floors) was like being at sea, she wasn’t far wrong.

    Thanks Mum.

    Sooooooo, after my parents showed up (Mum armed with a container of tadpoles, just in case we couldn’t fix it), we set to work pulling up part of the floor and digging a drain to let the water out.

    It was muddy and messy and did I mention the mud?

    Oh god, the mud.

    The water turned out to be grey water that was flooding back under the house because the drain was built by a fucking moron built exactly level with the house and EVERYONE knows that water won’t run up hill.

    You know, this might explains the slightly musty smell that we couldn’t get rid of.

    Heh.

    I did suggest to Nathan that we just pull the entire floor out, plant reeds, let some frogs go and call it an ‘Indoor Outdoor’ area. I really wanted to watch frogs while sitting inside.

    Sniff.

    (I may very possibly be more my mothers daughter than I think.)

    But anyway, we dug a drain and let the water out. The really muddy part came when the drain filled up and had to be emptied with buckets, so that MORE water could come out.

    And then more water.

    Is it bad that I could carry on a conversation with Nathan and Dad while I was outside and they were inside? I have to growl at Dad publicly for throwing bits of rubble through the hole at me.

    Thanks Dad.

    So I have come to the conclusion that whoever built the house was an idiot, because honestly, who digs a house shaped hole, lays flagstones (Yes, I said FLAGSTONES, not concrete or footings) and then puts a house exactly level with the yard.

    I mean, honestly?!

    This is AFTER I rinsed my hands. Thank god I don’t keep my fingernails long.

    And mud is good for the skin, right?

    Anyway, we now need to concrete the entire dining room, very soon. You know, before the floor collapses from dry rot and we drown.

    The aftermath outside. See? An inside pond with reeds and frogs wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

    At least until I discovered frogs in my socks.

    Maybe I should be breeding trout instead.

  • Weekly Winners

    Weekly Winners as hosted by Lotus.

    Today was a rather busy day. We spent alot of it covered in mud, but you will have to wait for tomorrow to hear about that. (It is a bad bad thing, but it makes for good blog material. Typical. hehe)

    Look Mummy! I’m so strong!

    What? You followed me?

    Amy thinks we are being too loud.

    Seven is kicking back in front of the fire.

    I know, I know, not many photos. AGAIN! I’m sorry. Tomorrow will be filled with renovations and mud. Trust me, it is dirty.

    See more Weekly Winners here.

  • 52 Hours.

    It has been 52 hours since I last breastfed Amy.

    We didn’t plan it this way, but this is how it is happening. After a busy day yesterday, I found myself at 5pm without having fed Amy.

    So I let it go.

    When she asked for boobs shortly after that, I distracted her. Just to see if we could go a whole day without a feed.

    All day yesterday and all day today. No feeds.

    Amy tries to pull up my top and pats my chest saying ‘Boobies? Please?’

    I tell her my boobies have no milk left.

    She cries a little and snuggles in deep to my chest. Strokes my neck and then puts her hand into my top to assure herself that I am still Mummy. That my boobs are still there.

    It is breaking my heart.

    I know that if I don’t take this chance and run with it, we won’t be weaning anytime soon and while I am happy to keep breastfeeding, I really want to conceive and weaning is the only thing we haven’t done yet.

    I am sad. And worried.

    What happens if she gets sick? How am I supposed to deal with it without boobs? Boobs make everything better.

    But sad mostly.

    For my little girl who is growing up so fast. Who soon, won’t need ‘Mummy boobies!’ when she is tired or hurt or sick.

    I am missing my baby.

    —

    I haven’t fed, or expressed since about 5pm on April 3rd. I have no idea what exactly I am doing or even if I really want to do this. Most people have a plan and drop one feed every few days. Me? I’m sailing by the seat of my pants and hoping to god this doesn’t blow up in my face.

    So I am sitting here with porn star sized boobs (okay, so they are a little saggier than porn stars boobs) and a heat pack on my chest. Great look, you should try it some time.

    Honest.