His other differences (in point form, because I have a 4 year old yelling in my ear and I can't think)
* He was small, under 7lb when leaving hospital.
* He just looks different! So everyone tells me. I see bits of them all in him, but he does have his own 'dopey' look about him ;)
* He would not take a dummy, despite my best efforts to get him to
* He cried a lot and wouldn't sleep (a bit like Olivia)
* He was not interested in eating solids until he was 8 months old. The first time he really got into food was my birthday cake.
* He hates having a wet nappy, whereas the others could wander around all day with the one nappy on - if they needed to, not that they did, often, at all...;)
* He is a super wee-er at night, and about once/ week wets through his clothes. Very annoying, but could be related to -
* He is still having bottles at night time
* He is still small, 9kg. Even Olivia was 10kg at 12 months!
I'm sure there's more, but as Kimbal is stamping up and down screaming 'I don't want this show' next to me, it is taking all of my willpower not to start my own tantrum.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Curti Curt
I have written and deleted different approaches to this post a few times now. It seems so special to be writing about my baby boy's birthday, I don't want to stuff it up ;) I want everyone to know how loved this little boy is, and how unique he is and always has been.
From the very beginning, #4 was going to be different. Peter and I were finally married, and thanks to the hospital policy of giving a baby the same surname as the mother, this would be my first 'A*****' baby. I realise that this will probably sound stupid to most people, considering so many children are born out of wedlock, but it was something I regretted for each of my other births (Luella's blue book has a big 'H******' written in permanent marker on the front). Even though we'd been together for what felt like 50 years, finally it seemed okay (once married) to admit that this baby was planned. #4 would also have the biggest age gap, 23 months, stretching into the socially acceptable range ;)
Then at my 12 week tests, we were given some odd PAPP-A results that nobody ever went to any trouble to explain, and led me on the dangerous path of Dr Google-ing. I had to have another lot of bloods taken, but there wasn't much difference in the two lots of strange results. Just one of those things I guess, but I spent the next 8 weeks wondering if the half-way scan would reveal a non-functioning placenta or disability.
So the 20 week scan came, and while nothing unusual was found, for the first time I had a low lieing placenta, and it was posterior! All 3 other pregnancies had had anterior placentas (again, I realise this must be riveting information for anyone reading this, but it's all part of our journey to Curtis). I remember lieing there, repeating to myself 'please be a boy, please be a boy, please be a boy' (logistic reasons mainly) but seeing nothing that would indicate boy (and I had seen a lot of ultrasound pics since my first pregnancy!). I thought I even saw a telling hamburger, and when the technician spoke and said 'I can't be sure, but I think it's a...' I was almost certain she would say 'girl'. When she said BOY, then I wanted to know for certain and asked if it would help if I went to the toilet or changed position or anything! I needed to know! I went to the toilet, and when I came back, so did Curtis ;) and we were pretty satisfied with his boyness then.
Fast forward until today, 1 year ago. I was booked in for induction, following an appt on Peter's birthday (the 9th). I was told to call in the morning, just to make sure there was a labour room available, but I just assumed this was a formality. I never imagined I would be told not to come in that day! I couldn't help myself, I cried. I cried to the lady on the phone. I was so upset to have this huge anti-climax, not to mention ready to meet my baby boy.
I'm going to have to continue this later, I have cakes to make and presents to wrap.
From the very beginning, #4 was going to be different. Peter and I were finally married, and thanks to the hospital policy of giving a baby the same surname as the mother, this would be my first 'A*****' baby. I realise that this will probably sound stupid to most people, considering so many children are born out of wedlock, but it was something I regretted for each of my other births (Luella's blue book has a big 'H******' written in permanent marker on the front). Even though we'd been together for what felt like 50 years, finally it seemed okay (once married) to admit that this baby was planned. #4 would also have the biggest age gap, 23 months, stretching into the socially acceptable range ;)
Then at my 12 week tests, we were given some odd PAPP-A results that nobody ever went to any trouble to explain, and led me on the dangerous path of Dr Google-ing. I had to have another lot of bloods taken, but there wasn't much difference in the two lots of strange results. Just one of those things I guess, but I spent the next 8 weeks wondering if the half-way scan would reveal a non-functioning placenta or disability.
So the 20 week scan came, and while nothing unusual was found, for the first time I had a low lieing placenta, and it was posterior! All 3 other pregnancies had had anterior placentas (again, I realise this must be riveting information for anyone reading this, but it's all part of our journey to Curtis). I remember lieing there, repeating to myself 'please be a boy, please be a boy, please be a boy' (logistic reasons mainly) but seeing nothing that would indicate boy (and I had seen a lot of ultrasound pics since my first pregnancy!). I thought I even saw a telling hamburger, and when the technician spoke and said 'I can't be sure, but I think it's a...' I was almost certain she would say 'girl'. When she said BOY, then I wanted to know for certain and asked if it would help if I went to the toilet or changed position or anything! I needed to know! I went to the toilet, and when I came back, so did Curtis ;) and we were pretty satisfied with his boyness then.
Fast forward until today, 1 year ago. I was booked in for induction, following an appt on Peter's birthday (the 9th). I was told to call in the morning, just to make sure there was a labour room available, but I just assumed this was a formality. I never imagined I would be told not to come in that day! I couldn't help myself, I cried. I cried to the lady on the phone. I was so upset to have this huge anti-climax, not to mention ready to meet my baby boy.
I'm going to have to continue this later, I have cakes to make and presents to wrap.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
blog challenge
1, 2, miss a few, 99, 100
(what the hell does that mean?! What I'm trying to say is that I've missed a couple of posts, but now we are moving on...I remember saying that as a kid, but I have no idea on why?!)
So,
December 8 Moment of peace. An hour or a day or a week of solitude. What was the quality of your breath? The state of your mind? How did you get there?
Are you kidding me? lol Solitude? Do you mean real solitude, or does it count if I just have the mp3 blocking out kid sounds? ;) Here are a few moments, but they were either fleeting or infrequent!
* sunday sleep ins - hmm, I don't really appreciate the solitude of sleeping. Obviously it's something my body needs, but I'd rather be having other quiet moments when I'm conscious
* baths alone, with a book or magazine - constant interruptions, kids asking to hop in too (and I always give in, eventually, usually after the water stops running. I only really enjoy the bath as long as the water is running, the rest of the time I'm in there is out of obligation after filling the bath)
* Cleaning the house with the music on
That's why I'm struggling with this blog challenge. I just don't have enough to say on any of the topics!
Gastro has hit here. I've never had it before. It's not too unlike a very bad hangover though, and I've been there, done that ;)
(what the hell does that mean?! What I'm trying to say is that I've missed a couple of posts, but now we are moving on...I remember saying that as a kid, but I have no idea on why?!)
So,
December 8 Moment of peace. An hour or a day or a week of solitude. What was the quality of your breath? The state of your mind? How did you get there?
Are you kidding me? lol Solitude? Do you mean real solitude, or does it count if I just have the mp3 blocking out kid sounds? ;) Here are a few moments, but they were either fleeting or infrequent!
* sunday sleep ins - hmm, I don't really appreciate the solitude of sleeping. Obviously it's something my body needs, but I'd rather be having other quiet moments when I'm conscious
* baths alone, with a book or magazine - constant interruptions, kids asking to hop in too (and I always give in, eventually, usually after the water stops running. I only really enjoy the bath as long as the water is running, the rest of the time I'm in there is out of obligation after filling the bath)
* Cleaning the house with the music on
That's why I'm struggling with this blog challenge. I just don't have enough to say on any of the topics!
Gastro has hit here. I've never had it before. It's not too unlike a very bad hangover though, and I've been there, done that ;)
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Where I'm at
I know I've already blogged today, but I just wanted to get this down before I forget. Because it might be worth reading back on on one of those days ;)
I am totally in love with my kids. It could make me sad that they will become teenagers who might not want to hang out with their uncool mum, but I don't think my kids will be like that. I think they will like hanging out with me (even if it is just because I'm the one with the cash hehehe), because I like hanging out with them. I love them for who they are, as individuals, as changing individuals, and they know that. What I don't like is squeezing in cleaning, the necessary evil, in between quality time.
Yesterday, when mum and I took them into Echuca for the day, I realised that they are growing up and I was surprised that I felt sad. My sadness was from the days I have wasted, taking my foul moods out on them, or at least not being patient as I could have been. I'm not a saint, as I tell my friends who often comment how much fun we appear to have in facebook photos, I tend to not take photos of or share the photos where I am dragging them into their rooms or yelling at them to 'just get out of the kitchen!' (I stand by that request, from one too many milk accidents I've had to clean up, but I do need to be a bit more patient at times).
Actually, I remember when Olivia was under 2 and Kimbal had had a series of bad nights. I was so tired, and really not feeling like the parent I wanted to be. So I took Olivia outside and took photos of her playing with the hose, thinking that if she (in years to come) told me how awful her childhood was I could counter with all of these lovely photographs of her laughing into the water. That was the first time I did something like that. The good thing is though, that once I get out of the house, my mood does change.
Damn housework.
I am totally in love with my kids. It could make me sad that they will become teenagers who might not want to hang out with their uncool mum, but I don't think my kids will be like that. I think they will like hanging out with me (even if it is just because I'm the one with the cash hehehe), because I like hanging out with them. I love them for who they are, as individuals, as changing individuals, and they know that. What I don't like is squeezing in cleaning, the necessary evil, in between quality time.
Yesterday, when mum and I took them into Echuca for the day, I realised that they are growing up and I was surprised that I felt sad. My sadness was from the days I have wasted, taking my foul moods out on them, or at least not being patient as I could have been. I'm not a saint, as I tell my friends who often comment how much fun we appear to have in facebook photos, I tend to not take photos of or share the photos where I am dragging them into their rooms or yelling at them to 'just get out of the kitchen!' (I stand by that request, from one too many milk accidents I've had to clean up, but I do need to be a bit more patient at times).
Actually, I remember when Olivia was under 2 and Kimbal had had a series of bad nights. I was so tired, and really not feeling like the parent I wanted to be. So I took Olivia outside and took photos of her playing with the hose, thinking that if she (in years to come) told me how awful her childhood was I could counter with all of these lovely photographs of her laughing into the water. That was the first time I did something like that. The good thing is though, that once I get out of the house, my mood does change.
Damn housework.
Blah blah blah
Day ? challenge - book - I guess Twilight wouldn't count?! Surely not! That was entertaining, until I came across the Twilight Sucks forum (which I'm not going to link to, because once you go there, there is no turning back!). The CSIRO diet for kids was interesting, it made me rethink giving sandwiches as snacks (since the suggested bread/cereal serve is 4 a day = toast for breakfast, sandwich for lunch). That is it.
Day 5 - Night out - For 2009, I'm going to award Pink with the night out prize. She was amazing. I went with my sister, who very kindly bought my ticket. The only problem was, all of this was arranged before we had any idea we would be moving 6 hours away from family. Anyway, I enjoyed the whole trip away (Peter didn't). The concert was amazing.
Been a bit busy here, with mum visiting. I'll get right into blogging after she leaves tomorrow. Might even start another diet then too...that reminds me of when my sister and I were skinny teenagers who thought we were fat and we'd answer the question 'What are you doing today?' with 'Losing weight ;) '. Oh if only it was that easy.
Day 5 - Night out - For 2009, I'm going to award Pink with the night out prize. She was amazing. I went with my sister, who very kindly bought my ticket. The only problem was, all of this was arranged before we had any idea we would be moving 6 hours away from family. Anyway, I enjoyed the whole trip away (Peter didn't). The concert was amazing.
Been a bit busy here, with mum visiting. I'll get right into blogging after she leaves tomorrow. Might even start another diet then too...that reminds me of when my sister and I were skinny teenagers who thought we were fat and we'd answer the question 'What are you doing today?' with 'Losing weight ;) '. Oh if only it was that easy.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Day 3 of challenge
December 3 Article. What's an article that you read that blew you away? That you shared with all your friends. That you Delicious'd and reference throughout the year.
I don't have one, although I did read something the other day that said people who multi-tasked did each of their tasks less successfully than those who concentrated on one job at a time. I tend to agree with this (although I will admit to having a few beers tonight, so my quote isn't exactly quoteworthy). Considering Curtis was born at the end of 2008, I spent a fair bit of time on the computer while breastfeeding, at all hours. I read more articles than I...well, than I can remember! I mean that, with so many tabs open (facebook, eb, blogs, links from any of these, then links from links), I don't think I've remembered 1 article that moved me in 2009.
I do remember articles from 2008 (to do with car and water safety), but then I wasn't breastfeeding while reading last year ;)
Going to bed now. Half hearted, last minute post tonight. Mum is here, and we got to go out tonight for golf and beers. I am pleased to report, that after 3 years without hitting a ball, I managed to average drives of 125m. Not quite the average (thanks google, and yards to metre converter), but getting there. Goal for 2010 - hit the 200m mark. Turn pro.
I don't have one, although I did read something the other day that said people who multi-tasked did each of their tasks less successfully than those who concentrated on one job at a time. I tend to agree with this (although I will admit to having a few beers tonight, so my quote isn't exactly quoteworthy). Considering Curtis was born at the end of 2008, I spent a fair bit of time on the computer while breastfeeding, at all hours. I read more articles than I...well, than I can remember! I mean that, with so many tabs open (facebook, eb, blogs, links from any of these, then links from links), I don't think I've remembered 1 article that moved me in 2009.
I do remember articles from 2008 (to do with car and water safety), but then I wasn't breastfeeding while reading last year ;)
Going to bed now. Half hearted, last minute post tonight. Mum is here, and we got to go out tonight for golf and beers. I am pleased to report, that after 3 years without hitting a ball, I managed to average drives of 125m. Not quite the average (thanks google, and yards to metre converter), but getting there. Goal for 2010 - hit the 200m mark. Turn pro.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Day 2 of the challenge
I love going out to restaurants, I love food! I love wine! I love cocktails! I love locking someone else, or a group of people, into chatting over a juicy (but not too juicy) fillet steak or drooling over the dessert menu.
And there lies the problem...locking them into conversation, and indulging in a few wines or experimenting with a few cocktails doesn't work when you have a bunch of kids. Kids who keep getting out of their chairs to pick up dropped cutlery, and keep dropping cutlery just to get out of their chairs. Kids who are more interested in the bark at the bottom of the potplant, or creating little piles of salt and pepper, than they are in talking about their planned renovation/holiday/anything in the news. A baby who needs a bottle, or a change, or to grab the end of the tablecloth and move everything on the table a few inchs their way.
Does a playcentre count as a restaurant?
Because Peter and I don't get to go out too often without the kids, when we do go it's so loaded with expectation that it takes a while to really relax and enjoy the experience. Everything has to be perfect, I try too hard to try and make the experience just like it was before kids (which, thanks to an extra 20kg and 5 years worth of hair-neglect is an impossible task). I get annoyed when he isn't as excited as I am about the 'date', even though after a busy week at work he'd probably much rather to veg and watch sport on tv. I spend too much time and energy trying to find the best restaurant, when he really likes Chinese food and would be happy with some all you can eat buffet.
We have a night out planned for this coming Friday, thanks to my mum arriving for a few days. Last time she came, and last time we had a babysitter so that we could go out alone, was 5 months ago. This time I'm going to start drinking early, instead of wasting an hour on my hair.
And there lies the problem...locking them into conversation, and indulging in a few wines or experimenting with a few cocktails doesn't work when you have a bunch of kids. Kids who keep getting out of their chairs to pick up dropped cutlery, and keep dropping cutlery just to get out of their chairs. Kids who are more interested in the bark at the bottom of the potplant, or creating little piles of salt and pepper, than they are in talking about their planned renovation/holiday/anything in the news. A baby who needs a bottle, or a change, or to grab the end of the tablecloth and move everything on the table a few inchs their way.
Does a playcentre count as a restaurant?
Because Peter and I don't get to go out too often without the kids, when we do go it's so loaded with expectation that it takes a while to really relax and enjoy the experience. Everything has to be perfect, I try too hard to try and make the experience just like it was before kids (which, thanks to an extra 20kg and 5 years worth of hair-neglect is an impossible task). I get annoyed when he isn't as excited as I am about the 'date', even though after a busy week at work he'd probably much rather to veg and watch sport on tv. I spend too much time and energy trying to find the best restaurant, when he really likes Chinese food and would be happy with some all you can eat buffet.
We have a night out planned for this coming Friday, thanks to my mum arriving for a few days. Last time she came, and last time we had a babysitter so that we could go out alone, was 5 months ago. This time I'm going to start drinking early, instead of wasting an hour on my hair.
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