Evelyn

Venturing into the great outside

by Veronica on October 26, 2013

I’ve been hibernating since Evelyn was born. I know this, and accept it. It’s easier to stay home when you have a baby who requires naps and a certain amount of normality. But somewhere in the middle of hibernating, I stopped going anywhere except for necessary things. Hospital appointments. The supermarket. School.

Which is fine, it really is. I’ve been working a lot, and writing a lot, and that is all much easier when I’m at home.

But I’d underestimated how much sanity can be restored simply by leaving the house.

Evelyn had a neurology appointment yesterday afternoon. It was a Student Free Day, so Amy was home from school, and the original plan had been to have Frogpondsrock watch my children while Nathan and I headed to the appointment.

By 11am I was ready to eat my children. Just up and eat them. NOM. The two big ones woke Evelyn from her nap five minutes after she fell asleep, someone destroyed something and there was more screeching than I thought humanly possible.

I ran away. Convinced Mum to come and get me, and we left Nathan at home with the two big children, while I escaped to Kmart of all places. You know you’ve been hibernating for too long when Kmart feels like a luxury freedom resort. I didn’t even buy anything amazing. School shirts for Isaac to start Kindergarten with, a new belt after the dog chewed mine to pieces, a present for a birthday party we’re invited to, a helmet that actually fits Isaac.

Then Evelyn and I shared a hot chocolate and a toasted sandwich, and I realised that I hadn’t been anywhere for almost 18 months that didn’t involve pressure, or stress, or screeching banshee children.

It was nice, you know. Evelyn is (mostly) lovely to take out in public, and I can’t keep hiding at home. That’s the problem with working from home too, it’s easier to just stay home, because going out means you’re playing catch up on things you should have done at lunchtime, at midnight.

Neurology was happy with Evelyn, by the way. She has a theory that babies with severe sleep myoclonus (the twitching that aren’t seizures) are wired differently. Wired higher. She promised me that Evelyn is going to give me hell as she gets older.

I look forward to it.

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So much normality in one little bundle.

by Veronica on October 23, 2013

in Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, Evelyn

Evelyn is sick. Not in a special snowflake “oh god my baby is SICK” way, but in a normal “every baby gets a bad cold” kind of way. Despite the snot and the two hours of inconsolable screaming last night, it all feels very normal. Eve is sick, and she’s acting like a sick baby and I am tired, and bored from walking around the house patting her on the back while she wails.

I’m even typing this from bed, while she drapes her small sad self across my tummy, snuffling and grumbling about the indignity of a spring cold.

Things have happened, things I haven’t written about because, turns out, having three children is a bit of work, and toddlers are more intense than I remember.

Evelyn learned to walk. Like, properly walk. She totters around the house all day, throwing herself at any furniture available to catch her unbalanced form. She’ll drop down to a crawl for a few metres, before deciding that height beats speed any day, and clambering back to her feet. She’s wobbly, and her right knee needs strengthening, but she’s off and walking.

She says thank you (dug’nen) when you hand her things. It’s one of her few functional words and is probably one of the cutest things she’s done since the last cute thing she did.

We saw the geneticist and left with a diagnosis of Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. This was expected. It might be causing her feeding issues, it might not. We’re told to stick with pediasure and see how she does. As long as she doesn’t lose weight, we’re all good.

Life continues. I’m writing fiction, waiting for November and NaNoWriMo to start, growing a garden and just being.

It’s all very nice, and normal, and pleasant. Except for the snot. The snot and wailing isn’t pleasant.

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Walking, oh my god, someone hold me please because WALKING

by Veronica on September 28, 2013

in Evelyn

Two nights ago, Evelyn took her first unassisted steps, walking two steps between the coffee table and couch. She looked incredibly proud of herself and while, two days later, she’s not running around the house, she is moving easily between furniture that requires only a step or two to reach.

She’s 14 months old, and taking her first steps months ahead of schedule.

I am so proud.

Yes, we still have challenges, but she walked, you guys. She WALKED. By herself! Without help! SHE WALKED.

Yeah. I’m pretty thrilled.

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How much fat does an apple contain?

by Veronica on September 21, 2013

in Evelyn, Food-Issues

pediasure

Do you know that a lot of yogurts only have 4% fat?

Gippsland Dairy is better, they have 6.5% fat. Ski Divine has 7.8% according to their website. Danone is even better – less sugar than Gippsland and Ski and 8% fat. But Farmer’s Union Greek Yogurt has a total amount of 9.7% fat and no sugar at all.

Unfortunately the lack of sugar makes it almost unpalateable for Evelyn, unless I add things to it, which negates the fat percentages. If half the yogurt eaten is actually applesauce (made from pure apples, high in vitamin C, containing carbs and energy, but not enough nutrition to live on), then it’s less beneficial than 4TB of plain Danone yogurt.

This is not a sponsored post. This is just where my head is at lately, while keeping a food diary for Evelyn and trying to add Pediasure to all the things. This morning I made whole egg custard because Evelyn both enjoys the taste and can swallow it. I added Pediasure to the end product and voila, there was three tablespoons of highly nutritious food for morning tea.

I cheered because she managed 5 tablespoons (FIVE, count them, FIVE) of thin porridge with yogurt and pediasure this morning for breakfast.

Why yes, I am going a little insane, obsessing over everything Eve puts in her mouth. But that’s my job. I’m her mother and a toddler cannot live on breastmilk alone as our (new, lovely) dietician pointed out to me the other day. So I’m keeping a food diary, writing everything down and trying to replace day feeds with pediasure bottles.

You wish you were me right now, don’t you.

Mothers of toddlers everywhere are attempting to get their special snowflakes to eat sandwiches at lunchtime. I’m feeding my child ice-cream and custard. It’s a big perspective shift for me, who originally felt that toddlers should survive on everything that isn’t sweet, unless it’s fruit and then, go for your life.

Welcome to Reality, Veronica. Here, have a cookbook, a list of fat percentages, and a can of nutritional supplement. YOU’RE GOING TO NEED THEM.

We’re lucky. Evelyn enjoys food still. She likes to taste everything, even if she cannot swallow a lot of it. This is a good thing, I’m told. She’s just as likely to eat a piece of steamed cauliflower, as a spoonful of ice-cream (even if the cauliflower doesn’t have nearly enough fat), and she adores cheese cubes (better) and rice crackers (eh, practically empty nutrition).

So here we are.

Bottles of partially tasted supplement litter my kitchen sink and I’ve taken to wondering if syringe feeding pediasure would be easier than giving bottles. I make them up in 50ml lots now and throw out 45 ml when after two hours Evelyn has had three sips. Maybe it’s the bottle, maybe it’s the taste, maybe it’s that Evelyn doesn’t seem to get hungry.

Who knows?

It’s complicated.

Until something changes, I’m making custards, ice-cream and bottles in equal measure.

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Bittersweet Spring

by Veronica on August 30, 2013

in Evelyn, Grief

It’s nearly Spring and I am holding on by the skin of my teeth. I’ve been poking the fruit trees, hoping that my attention will make them bud and blossom faster. It’s not working. We filled two above ground gardens that Nathan made out of old water tanks. I planted beetroot, onions, chard and chamomile and thanked the previous owner for leaving his rubbish behind. Ruined water tanks make great gardens.

Evelyn has learned to screech like a banshee and she does this every time things don’t go her way. My baby is turning into a toddler, full of feelpinions and angst. She tried to breastfeed upside down, her hands clutching at my nipple and her body contorting into wonderfully strange positions.

Oh I thought. Is this where we’re up to? Upside down breastfeeding and biting. I remember this.

Nostalgia filled me briefly, for these moments with Amy, when she was small and her opinions were small also. What shoes to wear, what cup she wanted, whether carrots or apples were better. Now I am traversing new terrain, fielding questions like “Is it better to be skinny?” and “Why are some people so mean?” and “Why do things have to die?”

No and I don’t know and it hardly seems fair, does it.

My grandmother’s cat died, on the road that has claimed too many of my animals. All the fencing in the world won’t keep the road from impinging on my life and here we are, another animal down, yet again. I felt guilty for my relief that she was dead, for the calm that came over the other cats. She was a bitchy cat, prone to purposely swiping at your face just for looking at her. Now she’s gone and I’m vaguely sad because it feels like the connections to my grandmother are slipping away, slowly and surely.

Evelyn’s hair curls and reminds me of a photo taken of my grandmother at the same age. I wonder how far the similarities will carry and it’s bittersweet to see Evelyn looking like this.

Spring is coming and the emotion I pushed down in the depths of Winter is coming with it, but that’s okay. I can deal with anything when there are blossoms, a baby who wants to breastfeed upside down and the warmth of sunshine on my skin.

Evelyn 13 months