Archives for the month of: October, 2012

It seems in the last week or so fear has squeezed its way into our little house hold. Having someone come into your house in the middle of the night can do that to you.

I’ve never been one to shy away from anything really. I will admit to over dramatizing and making a scene prior to the event, but 9 out of 10 times I’ll give it ago. I normally freak out, over think every possible outcome, psych myself up and then do it. I never really let on that I’m scared.

Right now?  I shitting myself at random noises (surprisingly enough staying completely still isn’t the most heroic move). If its at night I will panic whack Aidan and make him check it out. The worst part is I am sleeping so lightly now,  a week and a half on and I feel knackered from being ‘almost awake’ as apposed to ‘completely asleep’. I know I’m not exactly at the paranoia stage, but its a big enough change in routine for me to notice.

I’m not sure if tiny human has picked up on my vibe, but for the first time since she was born I’ve noticed she has become scared. Some might call it clingy or cranky, but to me its showing fear. In the past (almost) 9 months I’ve been able to pass her off to pretty much anyone for a cuddle. Family, friends, other mums, the lady behind the counter at the chemist, its never really phased her. Lately she will physically crawl away from someone and get upset if they get to close. She will hang on to Aidan or myself if we try to hand her to someone ‘new’ for a cuddle (new also refers to people she hasn’t seen in a week or two). I’m very aware that babies go through these phases, its natural, they are learning about relationships and boundaries. But this is a bit off. It also seems to correlate with the car being stolen and I’m worried my crazy freaking out mamma vibe has gotten to her.

If this is the case I’m gonna have to chill out, if she is picking up on this, then there is no saving her from all my other crazies.

Much love peeps xxx

When tiny human hurts herself she gets more upset that she has to stop what she was doing than for fact that she is in pain.

Nappy change time is now known as ‘rollover and run away butt naked, make mum chase me around with a nappy, stand up on something dangerous to give mum a chance to put nappy on, drop to the ground to show her that I’m in charge, crawl over to something else, stand again, let mum do up one side of the nappy, attempt to get away, do a double pike with a twist landing in a arabesque position, allow mum to finish putting the nappy on’ time.

The mail man, the garbage man, the delivery man – pretty much anyone who comes to visit that we don’t know ALWAYS comes when the baby is asleep and ALWAYS makes a racket. Despite the fact that I know nothing could wake Indi up if she’s already asleep, I find myself getting super pissed and threatening to beat the crap out of the the noisey bastards.

I want chocolate cake, for breakfast, everyday.

I think there is a ghost in our house. Indi always seems to be distracted by something that isn’t actually there. But this ghost must be hilarious, because she looses it giggling (which actually sounds more life a snuffly puppy at times). I think it might be my dad. I’d like that.

I hate curbside pick up. I’m pretty sure its the reason some butt hole broke into my house and stole my car. Curbside pick up gives a bunch of people from god knows where a reason to hang out in your neighborhood after dark. Now I’m not judging those who ‘vintage shop’ from the curbside. I think up-cycling somebodies pre loved goods is the best form of recycling. I have scored some sweet pieces from the verge boutique. I am just unlucky enough to be living close to a few wanky areas in Perth. Fancy area means fancy goods, fancy goods means more traffic, more traffic means increased chance of not so fabulous people hanging outside my house. Thankfully it will be gone soon. And then, I can sleep soundly.

White is officially not in season for 8 1/2 month olds. Watermelon, strawberry, spaghetti bog, casserole, sweet potato, stewed apples, blueberries, pumpkin – pretty much all foods have the ability to tie dye the shit out of a perfectly clean white onesie. Napisan is a house essential on a meal to meal basis.

I am ocd when it comes to toys. They need to be in a particular area in the lounge room. If indi pulls her books down, I’m more than happy to put the books back on the shelf. If she rips a magazine into pieces, I’ll put those pieces in the bin straight away. I like all the baby stuff in the car to be in its place. Its this staying at home business it makes me crazy neat freak.

Having not worked in a year, I’m shitting myself about going back to work. Shitting myself about making a call about going back to work. Terrified of being shit at what I considered myself to be bloody good at. Finding child care, organizing times, finding a balance, missing out on milestones, allowing someone else to get to know my baby, being behind on curriculum advances, new routines, making the sacrifices – its all freaking me out. How do mums do this? I need a pep talk people.

Is there anything more fabulous than fresh sheets?

It has been 11 months with out my Dad. My chest hurts just typing that.

Aidan is currently completing his final electrical exam. He started his apprenticeship when I completed my degree. Pretty dang proud of the boy. Only one more day.

Thats my brain. Sorry its boring as hell.

Much love peeps xxx

Life has started to really catch me off guard in the last couple of years. I think perhaps I’ve been living in my own bubble. All the bad stuff happened to other people, it would feel like I watching the world ‘flow’ from inside my bubble. It protected me and the people around me.

But my bubble popped. And the bad stuff infiltrated. Life and shit really happens.

Sunday morning was the most recent bubble pop.

I woke from the first uninterrupted sleep in over three weeks. I even said that to Aidan before he got up. I began to drift back off to sleep as he went to wake the baby up (she’s a morning sleeper, and I’m damn proud of it). Then came the pop. Shock coating his voice, Aidan announces our car has been stolen. From our driveway.

I don’t even remember how I got to the door, I just know my heart was in my throat. The back sliding door was wide open. They had been in the house. THEY HAD BEEN IN MY HOUSE. Shit, the baby, THE BABY. She hadn’t made a sound all night, SHIT. I burst in to her room. Poor Indi was not impressed. She momentarily turned into a thirteen year old. She glared at me, grizzled and then rolled her head into the mattress to avoid the light getting into her eyes. Phewwwww. Thank goodness she was ok.

But my car. The car we’d only had for 3 and a half months. With the car seat and the pram in it. The car that we searched for months to find. It was gone. And they had been inside. Every time I thought about it I felt sick. Sick to my stomach. I wanted to run away from the house. Either run or clean. But I couldn’t, no car meant no way of leaving and the police had to go through the house before I could clean. I just felt sick.

For one whole day I kept watch at the window hoping my car would miraculously drive itself back home. I would scan car parks and I even did a drive by around my neighborhood. My heart did not slow down at all. I wore a layer of dread for 12 long hours (I also wore my pj’s for that length of time too, hey! don’t judge me, my car was stolen).

The police didn’t come. We waited all day, with the back door open, with that constant sick feeling. Until we got a call saying our car had been found. No notable damage and all the baby stuff was still there. We started breathing again.

There’s still stuff that needs to be sorted and we wont get the car back for a day or so. I will not drive that car until its been detailed and checked over. It needs to be shiny and new, then I might consider taking Indi out in it. We are still slightly bitter, but the anger has subsided and for now the relief is enough.

Biggest lesson from this? Be prepared for your bubble to pop. Life has an ace card and it gets played when you least expect it. Oh, and make sure you always have hard liquor in the house. When some dickhead steals your car for a joy ride, you will need it.

Lock up and stay safe. Much love peeps xxx

I wish I had a bath. We’ve been in the same rental for 3 years now, with no bath. 3 long, long years with out the satisfaction of a long hot soak in a tub full of bubbles. Its rather depressing.

It wasn’t an issue when we moved in. The house was big enough, lots of parking, extra room, second toilet and air con, why would you complain? And I didn’t. Until I became pregnant, more specifically until I became walrus pregnant. What I would have given to rest in a gravity defining bath tub during that time. Instead I spent my time at the pool, which is only a 5 min walk away. If it had been any further I would have set up a blow up pool in my kitchen.

I miss having baths that much, that before we go away (to stay anywhere else) we will check if they have a tub. If the answer is yes, then we go spurge on luxurious bath paraphernalia. I will go to lush and spend up to $20 on a singular bath bomb that promises I will float away to the tropical island ‘utter relaxation’ and partake in the activity of ‘chilled the eff out’. Yes it would be true to say that a long hot bath is my vice. Add a glass of wine, a decent book and a block of chocolate and I will have your babies!

There are a few things we’ve had to adapt in order to have a makeshift bath in recent times. Bathing the baby for example. Aidan taught her how to push off the bottom of the baby bath when she was about 2 months old, so the ‘baby’ bath became redundant. Showering was good for a while. But this baby has been a wriggler from the get go, and the bigger she gets makes showers so awkward now. Instead we have the bucket bath.

This big pink bucket is a life saver. It is just big enough so that little bum keeps warm but can also play. She can just see over the top of the bucket, which means she can interact with us at the same time. It gets plonked in the lounge room so daddy doesn’t miss any important telly and it’s nice and soft when wriggle monster decides its time to get up and investigate. I’m so glad she doesn’t miss out on her baths.

Me, I miss out. And recently I’ve required a bath for more than just luxury. After my op the only instructions the doc gave me was to have regular ‘sitz’ baths (that’s salt baths). With no bath, yeah sure mate. So I’ve had to improvise. I have a 10 lt bath basin bucket (double the size of a normal bucket then cut it in half). Lucky me gets to sit in that at the bottom of my shower. All squished up, with my butt in a bucket all in the name of my health. Your jealous, I can tell.

With my utter desire for a bath (along with a bathroom, attached to a new house would be awesome) I have been drawn back to pinterest. Man there is some damn good bath-porn on there. Old school tubs, dream bathrooms and giant soak wells. If I had my way I’d probably have 3 bathrooms- all family sized, just to keep it interesting. Check out some of the drool worthy ones I’ve found so far.

I shall have a claw foot bathtub in my future home.

Warm bathroom | Bathroom idea | Chair | Image |

Baño con bañera y pared de piedra detrás

Ugggggghhhhhhh all this dreaming about bath tubs is making me super eager to buy a house. Buy a house in the sense of making it pretty and fancy and comfy. Not in the sense of a massive scary debt. That bit freaks me out. Hopefully one day, sooner rather than later I can legitimately go bath shopping. Mind you when I do end up with a bath I doubt I’ll ever get out of it. If you see a crazy lady living in her bath tub on the news. It would be fair to say that would be me.
Much love peeps xxx



bargain hunting

tomato eyebrows and a pumpkin mustache

First swimming lesson



Oh is that a camera?


on the move

We crawl so that mamma has to run, we destroy everything, we shake our head and say no, we can say mamma and bubba, we eat everything and we have to pull up on everything. We are danger in a really cute outfit!

Much love peeps xxx




It seems that I have a small patch if black. What I mean is that there is a small amount if time I can not actually remember much about. Before you freak out and tell me to go to the hospital, let me explain.

When dad passed away, I switched off. Things were happening, people were moving, on the outside I was moving too, but in reality I was just getting washed along with the crowd. I did what was expected, I acted the way your supposed to, but really I just kept floating.

I was going through the motions. It was a survival method. I needed to ‘be’ normal to ‘feel’ normal. I was just trying to survive grief.

Being pregnant was possibly the best thing for me. I shudder to think how I would have coped otherwise. Knowing I had a sweet little button growing inside me kept me afloat. So inside my survival shell, I focused on her.

Between ‘attempting’ normal and growing Indi, I must have turned my attention switch to off. I can not tell you what happened in the news, what songs were playing on the radio or what was happening on home and away. All I can tell you is, I went back to school for two weeks, people were overly gentle with me, Christmas sucked and I felt like a walrus. That there is the entirety of what happened between November 20th – February 10th.

Then came life with the tiny human. May as well wipe the next two months out too. Routine and learning, and trying to sleep was all that happened in those months. Needless to say, I had some catching up to do.

I really only figured out I was out of the loop because I started listening to the radio again. The only superpower I have (besides crazy mamma hormones) is music, being a dance teacher I had to be up to date on as much music as possible. To my absolute disgust, Aidan knew more about the songs (who sung them and what the words were) than I did. Then and there I knew I had to pick up my game.

About mid August I figured out who 1 direction were (yes, I’m pretty grateful to be behind the times on that one). Thanks to bad tv promos and constant advertising I think I’m as up to date as I want to be on this boy band hysteria (I was a backstreet girl myself, bouncing around with a hair brush singing at the top of my lungs. Fee I know you remember :p).

The enormity of my black out period really only hit me about a week ago, as Aidan and I sat down ready to watch the new season of Sons if Anarchy. Pretty excited, we put the baby to bed and broke out the chocolate. The ‘previously on sons’ began to roll through and both Aidan and I sat up straight. ‘What the frick was going on?’.

Being in a cocoon means you miss out on everything, bad and good. In this case I missed the whole of series 4 of Sons. To be honest I was super pissed. Everyone was raving about how full on this season was and how good the story line was. Luckily I don’t mind couch time watching telly, so I pushed through. We have spent the best part of the last week trying to catch up. Between a teething, Olympic crawling, sooky mammals girl, a husband on night shift and lack of sleep we have finally caught up with everybody else. I. Am. Drained. Who said watching tv wasn’t hard?

You know that feeling when you go back to work after a nice relaxing holiday? You took the holiday because you were stress and needed to unwind, only to find that you have twice the amount of work to catch up on. That’s how I feel at times. I have a box of presents that need to be posted – past birthdays, engagements, housewarming gifts. I have a list of things to do that date back to when I was pregnant. I have to google things I read in the newspaper just to know what they are talking about. Sometimes I feel like I was in a coma and only just woke up!

I’m slowly catching up. I doubt I’m going to get there anytime soon, but I’m getting there. Knowing my luck, I will be just about caught up then decide to pump out another tiny human, screwing up all that hard work. Can I play the exhausted mamma card permanently?

Much love peeps xxx

I am sometimes shocked by how incredibly selfish and unaware people are of their surroundings. Caught up in their own world and their own selfish wants, putting themselves first in every situation.

Going to the shopping center is beginning to make me anxious. I’m worried that I’m going to run into these horrible people. I’m not worried that they will be selfish and obnoxious, gosh no, I’m aware that that will happen regardless. I’m worried I’m going to shoot my mouth off, using expletives and end up getting more worked up than really required.

Everyone has had the moment where you realize someone is coming straight towards you, in your direct line of travel. You might chose to swing right to give them some space, they swing left to give you space. You both awkward smile, say ‘sorry’ do the ‘which way to I go’ shuffle and then carry on with your shopping. Happens to the best of us. Its a shoppers right of passage.

Its the arrogant ones that make my skin crawl. The ones that take up the whole walking space, see you directly coming towards them. You do the swing to the right to allow them some room (knowing too well that even with the swing, they will have to move too otherwise no one gets through), they don’t make any allowances, so when they go past they bump in to your shoulder, give you an evil look and grumble under their breath. YOU DO NOT OWN THIS FREAKING SPACE YOU POOS!

I understand its school holidays and the natural order of shopping centers, parks, beaches etc are completely thrown in to chaos. But its not the parents or the kids at fault. Its the regulars.

– Nanna ‘these children are so rude’ and Grandad ‘I hate shopping’

– Shirt and tie guy ‘get outta my way, I want my effing subway and you are wasting valuable smoking time’

– Pencil skirt lady ‘if you touch my country road skirt, I will turn you to stone’

– Obligatory 20 something preggo ‘CLEARLY I NEED TO PEE, GET THE FRICK OUT OF MY WAY’

– Obligatory lady with a pram ‘I have a pram, YOU will move for ME’

– Sullen 20 something geek ‘no one notices me, so if you need me I’ll be looking at the ground’

– 30 something tradie ‘effing hell, I need a pie, a coke, some chips and a coffee and I don’t have time for this shit’

Normally I can handle all of these people. But coming up to holiday time I’m becoming increasingly aware that we are living in a world where lack of manners is the norm. For example, Today I was in Woolworths. I was at the check out, Indi in my arms (she has a new trick now, if you dont strap her in she will twist herself around and climb up the pram. Oh yes so. much. fun. Therefore the hip seat becomes the chosen method of travel), all my groceries where on the conveyor belt and the pram was in front of me (I’m always conscious not to take up too much space with the pram, I dont want to be the obligatory lady with a pram). Any way, my left side of my body was leaning against the check out and I had Indi on my right hip. I couldn’t be taking up any less space, when a little old lady, smaller than me with white hair barged past. She bumped me on my right shoulder and nearly pushed Indi out of my hold. The white haired witch (yes I would prefer to call her more inappropriate names) didn’t turn to say sorry, just continued on her way.

Does this not piss you off. If I wasn’t checking to see if Indi was ok, I know that little old lady would have copped a serve of parental venom (on a side note I have seen Aidan tell someone off for bumping the pram before, hell hath no fury like Indi’s daddy hehe hehe). The thing is, had she turned and apologized I would have thought nothing of it. But because she didn’t, I’m pissed as hell.

Manners mean the world to me. They were a given in my class room. I even tell Aidan off when he doesn’t say please. But to see all this arrogance really gets to me. Being rude and obnoxious is contagious. If it gets the desired result, others begin to copy and I do not want my kids growing up that way.

We decided, well before we were even planning to have children, that our kids would have manners. Yes we have been to little kids parties and have seen the select few rude children that decide that although it was not their birthday, they still deserved to open and play with the presents. And we had put our noses in the air at the parents that allowed this to happen. We have also seen little kids push other kids off play equipment in order to have their go sooner. Once again throwing judgement at the parents, watching as this took place. Not only would our future kids not be seen as rude or selfish, we would not be judged by our children’s lack of manners.

Why does it get to me? How does this downward spiral of society get under my skin and itch so bad? I know that if I get worked up in the moments that I see it take place, that I will snap. But that makes me just as bad. How can you tell a grown adult off for their lack of manners? And how do you make them realize their behavior is inappropriate? I know I will end up angry and snarly, rude and obnoxious. Becoming what I really hate. How do I stand up for something that I believe in with out becoming a hypocrite. ‘Do on to others, as you would have them do to you’ doesn’t seem to apply here, as I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m already doing, and whats already being ignored.

As I prepare for my first holiday shopping season as a mother I can see 3 options . A) choose all my gifts in advance and design a route through out the shopping centers with the least amount of travel between destinations, allowing myself only to shop when someone is babysitting the tiny human. B) do all my gift shopping online, leading to an increased percentage of personal gifts for myself and an increased credit card bill. Or C) suck it up and deal with it, people are all poos at Christmas anyway.

Anyway here’s wishing you much less over dramatized future shopping adventures.

Much love peeps xxx

So much has happened in the last month. So many firsts. So much change. My poor mamma heart is worn out.

Holiday. Indi’s first ever flight, and over sea’s trip. My girl was so fabulous I can not explain just how much. So good on the planes. Such a trooper in the humidity, and such a little socialite. I can not wait to take her away again.

Crawling. The kid got speed. After a week and a half with her betrothed Edison, Indi just HAD to crawl. In bali she was moving a bit, but it was more like an uncoordinated frog rather than a crawl. On the plane home, she decided to show us that she had learnt to climb, by pulling herself up the plane seats. Showing off when we got home, the little wriggler showed us that our house was clearly not baby proof, crawling anywhere she pleased. I spent forever dreaming of seeing this milestone, now I wish I could get her to sit still.

Standing. Little bum can pull herself up on just about anything to stand now. Its where she wants to be. But she wants to get there herself. Bless her little heart she can also lower herself to the ground. That’s a bit exciting.

Grizzles. We are perfecting these. Growing and teething and moving and developing makes a tiny human more grizzly than I have ever seen her. But I think that is just the opinion of a mother who is used to a baby that refuses to stop smiling. Big bed time grizzles before naps and sleeps. I keep thinking I’ve done something wrong, but then I remember its close to nap time and sigh.

Dummy-less (almost). As per our agreement, Aidan and I started weaning Indi off her dummy when we got back from bali (she only used it to assist her to sleep, may account for extra bedtime grizzles). Wasn’t as hard as we thought to begin with, but there have been a few nights where we’ve broken. I know, I know, I need to be strong. But its these damn teeth that continually threaten to show, with out actually revealing themselves. So now the motto’s are: NO GOING BACK, WE ARE STRONG (uggghhh surely just once cant hurt?), WE CAN DO IT.

Words. We are so close to hearing that coveted first word. Majority of the time she will talk to the cat rather than us, a whole lot of  ‘Uuuuhh. Uuh. Blllllllrrrrrrrrrr. Bah. Bah. Uh.’ Pretty sure thats cat for ‘stop sleeping over there and come let me slob on your tail’. Needless to say Bellacat doesn’t respond.

Fur-sister. Indi and BellaCat are starting to play nice, and it warms my heart so. With her new found crawling freedom, Indi will chase the cat all over the house. Bella has begun to realize that Indi is no longer a loud blobby human, rather a more interactive version of loud blobby human. Bella is surprisingly gentle with Indi (she has NEVER been nice, a diva cat with a ‘don’t even think about petting me, I will destroy you’ kind of attitude), happy to put up with a whole lot of pulling and poking and slobbing, before she shoots an evil look and buggers off.

Head shaking. We have mastered the art of shaking our head NO. Normally during feed time. Cute, but increasingly annoying.

Sleeping. Day naps have got to a lovely length of time. Oh so lovely. From when she was a freshly baked bub and sleeping for only 40 mins at a time, we are now at 2.5 hrs morning nap and 1.5 hrs afternoon nap. Its really nice, especially now that I spend a whole lot of time chasing a very active little bum all around the place. I look forward to my rest times.

Water dragon. My little aquarius, born in the year of the dragon. Its very clear that this one loves the water. LOVES the water, any form of it. Think she must have got that from my dad. We are very excited to start swimming lessons next monday. We would have started at 6 months but the aquatic centre (which is a 3 min walk from our house) doesn’t run lessons for wee babes during winter. None the less, we are all looking forward to monday.

Hair. There is a whole lot movement in the hair department this month. She has her dads hair, its dead straight and stick up on weird angles just like his. All be it a very unrealistic, I’m still holding on to my dream of that one elusive curl. Its not looking like happening.

Arrrrgghhhh my little Indi bum is just getting so big. She’s so heavy now that Aidan and I will look for anyone with unsuspecting arms. Not long ago we would fight to be the one holding her, now its a fight to see who gets a back rub first due to the strain of lifting and carrying her. She’s still a tiny human, but there is a little person there now. She has sass and style, speed and determination. She has the most adorable giggle and a smile for everyone she see’s. My wee babe is growing up.

Keep on growing sweet girl. Mamma loves you

Much love peeps xxx

It seems like everyone around me is growing up. People are making big life movements like moving in together, or getting pregnant, having babies, getting engaged and getting married, traveling around the world and taking big steps in their careers. They are ticking all the boxes on the “Am I a grown up?’ quiz in the latest Cosmo.

The big two are babies and weddings. My calender next year is full of both. And I can not wait for every. single. one.

Bumps and Babies

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of taking a few pics of one of my best friends, her family and her bump. Little Ethan was born last weekend. So much love xx

3 becoming 4 xxx

I don’t know what happened about 4/5 months ago, but a whole lot of people got jiggy with it (I don’t think we can put the blame entirely on 50 shades of grey, if that were the case I would more than likely up the spud with everyone else). Come feb/march/april next year there will be a whole lot of gorgeous babes for our viewing pleasure. Before that tho, is those fabulous bumps, ughhhhh the bumps, the bumps that make you spontaneously ovulate and all of a sudden love your man in a ‘one more wouldn’t be that bad’ kind of way. Personally I’m not in any rush for the next baby. Aidan and I have agreed that lots is a good number and eventually is a great time to have them. Its those darn bumps that get me all jealous, and force me to day dream about being round, wearing maxi’s and choosing names. To all the soon to be mamma’s, rock that bump! Never hide it away. Maternity clothes have come a long way from giant moo moos, and you can find a whole lot that look nice, but you will look amazing in just about anything. Bumps are totally the must have for this season.

Engagements and Weddings

We know so many loved up people planning on making it official over the next 12 months. And so many of those people are people I love so very dearly. Weddings are super fun, all the flowing booze, happy people, dancing and so much talking (I do love me some drunken chats). Planning weddings however, is not something I classify as fun. The word enjoy was not used when describing the planning of my own wedding. There were a few family dramas on both sides, some miss communication, aggressive ‘helpers’ and a few people that decided that the day (and a whole lot of the lead up) was more about them and their involvement/feelings/enjoyment rather than mine and Aidans. Yeah I could be bitter, but in the end I married the man I love more than anything in this world. I spent time with a whole bunch of people I loved, and have so many gorgeous memories of that special day in my life.

Looking back I was a little ‘un educated’ in the world of wedding planning.  I was trying to be modern, when the whole wedding thing reeks of tradition and expectations. I got married almost 3 years ago, before Pinterest entered my life (Had I found Pinterest back then, man I would have had the best wedding ever. Full of mason jars and burlap, in a hay shed, wearing cow boy boots, maybe…). Now, weddings are so stylist and alternative, with so many more options. I do not envy those planning their weddings, I will however put my hand up and say ‘where do you want me to hang these fairy lights’ and ‘how many candles do you want on each table’. I will be the person that ensures that you will have the wedding of your dreams, should you require some one to kick start a day of crafting or decorating. To all my loved up friends and family, surround yourself with the things and people that you love and make you happy. That’s how you keep your calm in the chaos that is wedding planning.

Between the bling and the bellies, I can’t help but be jealous. Not because of what they are doing (or going to do/have), but because of the excitement and the anticipation. Its the crazy cloud floating feeling that comes with showing off your new engagement ring and announcing a pregnancy. When the smile on your face makes your cheeks ache, when you get sick of answering the same questions but secretly love to be asked them. You become a mini rock star and everyone wants to know how you are and what decisions you have made. Its such an overwhelming time. Ugggghhhhhhh I totally miss that feeling. Our next big life jump is buying a house. No doubt its going to fill me with the same feelings of excitement and anticipation (not to mention stress, dread, anxiety and debt… not that I’m worried at all). But for now I’ll stick wearing that pale shade of green and look forward to raising my glass and new baby snuggles.

Much love peeps xxx

I wont lie, getting pregnant wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done. My heart ached for so long till I saw those two little pink lines.

Finally pregnant, I began to hear the horror stories. You know the ones, told by the bitter woman and passed on in the hopes that you too will suffer the lack of comfort that they had endured. These included: ripping of the fan-wah, helium boobs (a personal dread due to a bad case of boobus ginormus), tree trunk legs, loss of bladder control and toilet hugging. More hilarious stories included: squirting nipples at inappropriate moments and pooping during labor.

Prepared for the worst, I stepped into the crazy world of lady + bump.

But the worst seemed to pass me by. I became the preggo that other preggos hated. No morning sickness, limted weight gain, and my cravings were limited to steamed vegies and fresh fruit. I was pretty damn blessed during the whole period.

I did however, experience walrus syndrome. Any one that had gone all the way to or past full term (past 36wks) will understand and secretly wince as they read this and have a little flash back to that oh so special time. Walrus syndrome is when your whole living, being and doing resembles that of said water based mammal. It starts off simple, a little bit round and feeling slighly more sleepy/tired/lazy than normal. Then you find your self beached on couches and using a rather large amount of energy trying to get up and off. The groaning and moaning becomes more vocal and seems to scare off the wildlife (aka husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends, family and neighbours). On top of these incredibly attractive characteristics, we as completely insane human beings attempt any and every tried and tested labor inducing act/food/drink/event. Yeah- that was fun (not).

When she finally arrived (40wks, not burnt but cooked well) we went from thinking we knew what to expect, to knowing that we had absolutely no idea. An incredibly healthy little bubba with a more than healthy appetite, we were feeling super lucky and loved up.

But then the “baby karma” kicked in.

With a healthy appetite from the get go, tiny human when first introduced to the food source (boobies) went in for the kill. Blood blisters and meat missing, her healthy appetite lead to an infection. Then furthered on the become a gigantic breast abscess. About the size of a tennis ball (remember boobus ginormus), I was admitted into hospital when Indi was just 7 weeks new. That was a super fun experience. But it didn’t stop there, I had a drainage bag attached to my boob for the next three weeks. So.Much.Fun.

Next came the declining milk issue (the breast abscess may have something to do with this). When we were first feeding, I was told I had enough milk for twins. Indi was thriving. Fast forward two months and I could barely fill her tummy. I tried everything. The worst thing in the world is thinking you cant provide your child with what she needs to develop. After a month I gave in. My own worst critic, I hated myself for turning to formula. My saving grace was that you could automatically the difference in Indi. Much more content. It allowed me to continue mix feeding her up until just recently. I’m bloody proud to have gotten to 7 months. Many others would be jealous of that. *A message to my fellow mammas. I will not judge you on the decisions you make about feeding your child. If you do what is best for your child, then you have always made the right choice. Do not let anyone make you feel other wise. 

The hair loss is a personal favorite of mine. Prenatal vitamins combined with AMAZING baby baking hormones during the pregnancy gave me such lushious full hair. Fast forward again to 4 months post baby arrival. There were tumble weeds of brown curly hair all over the house. What looked like drowned animals in the shower and rouge strands on every surface you could see (including the bubba).

I have also had the pleasure of another medical drama that is still in the process of healing. Not the thing you really want to tell people about, uncomfortable, irritating and leading to another hospital stay. This time on my butt (Yes you can literally say a pain in the butt, if it were someone else I would have a million jokes at the ready. Instead I have perfected my evil glare when others begin to giggle). Its called a fistula. I wont bore you with the details, its not a lovely explanation anyway. Just know this. You don’t ever want one. The result is a 4 day hospital stay away from my babes and the risk of losing continence. Steer clear peeps, well clear!

Then there is the physical changes. Boobs that need to be rolled up like the top of a sardine tin to be placed (or jammed) in to a bra. A waistline that WAS the width of my sholders, but after the 12 wbt is now more recognizable. A special baby belly pouch, loose enough and comfy enough for baby baking later on in life. A few tiger stripes and a grey hair or two. Add to all this the following : a spine that for the first time in my life decided to show me pain, increased/decreased/increased/decreased boob size, eczema, a couple of really cool scars and a raging appetite.

I may have had a dream pregnancy, but I think the “baby karma” seems to have balanced me out. I must also note that although it may sound like I’m whinging, I’m not really. I’m thankful. I’m thankful that its me and not Indi. I wouldn’t be as ok with it if the tables were turned. There are many others that are not as lucky as me. Many people who would give anything to switch places. Take the pain for their kids, take the burden, be the sick and be the hurt. So I am thankful. If baby karma needs to throw a few more horror’s my way, I’ll take them. My super human mamma strength run strong.
Much love peeps xxx

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