Sunday, 26 February 2012

A room a day - Seagull and Wombat's bedroom

I really hate cleaning. I do the absolute bare minimum as far as cleaning goes. Most of my efforts involve making sure that everyone's clothes are washed regularly so that we all have clean stuff to wear and rinsing cooking equipment/plates off so that they are easier for Thunder Maker to wash.

I've largely left the unpacking of boxes to Thunder Maker. My rationale is that most of the stuff in the boxes is his crap that he has to sort through and throw most of it out anyway, so why bother getting involved. This has meant that the boy's bedroom has been crammed with boxes and no one has been able to get in there. They have been snuggling with us overnight, which is no different to before we moved, but Thunder Maker has been complaining about the lack of room in our bed lately.

The straw that really broke the camel's back though was going to visit some of our friends last week. They were posted at the same base as me until the end of last year and they got posted to the same base this year that I am now at. Their daughter and Seagull are really good friends, so we were excited that they were coming up here too. For reasons that I'm not going to go into here, they had a lot of trouble finding a house, so they moved up here about a month after us.

When we went to visit them last week, there was not a box anywhere in their house to be seen. It made me really ashamed that we are nowhere near fully unpacked and that our house is not in a fit state to invite guests into. It made me want to get our house fully sorted so that we are able to invite people over. It also made me realise that I've only got a few weeks to go until an old mate of mine from school comes to visit us and the guest room is so full of boxes that no one is even able to walk past the door way of the room.

I resolved that I was going to concentrate on one room a day until the house is presentable. Some rooms are going to take me more than one day to sort but I will stick to that one room until it is sorted.

I was woken up by Wombat wanting a breastfeed this morning. It was 7:20am by the time Wombat rolled off and went back to sleep. I was wide awake, so I decided to get up and do some study for the coming uni term. Then I changed my mind and decided to clean up the boy's room instead.

The room actually wasn't too cluttered, it's just a really small room. We have moved from a four bedroom house with a study to a three bedroom house, so we decided to put the boys together in the smallest room and use the third bedroom as a guest room.

Anyway, the first thing I had to do was move a box marked 'lounge', two suitcases and the bassinette out of the room. The bassinette got shoved into the third room and the rest was left in the hallway. Then I had to unpack two boxes of clothes (most of which are too small for the boys and are now in bags to go to the Salvo's) and a box of toys.

Seagull woke up when I had one box left to go, so the floor was clear and he was able to get in. When I told him that Mummy was cleaning up his room, Seagull's face lit up. He stayed around for a while to watch before going to find his Dad so he could seagull some breakfast.

Once I had the boxes and their contents cleared off Seagull's bed, I was able to make it up. I knew where the sheets were, but realised that the doona is still in a box somewhere. Not that it really matters, because it isn't dropping below 18 degrees at night at the moment. You might be able to tell from the below picture that Wombat's bed hasn't yet been made up. That's because the sheets are on the clothes line.

Uploaded from the Photobucket iPhone App
The boys' little bedroom. With added toybox and change table.

What I am really excited about is that the bookcase we bought for Seagull while I was pregnant with him has been reclaimed from Thunder Maker (he decided that having somewhere to house his magazine collection was more important than Seagull having somewhere to keep his books and toys) and is now housing the boys' books and some of their toys.

Uploaded from the Photobucket iPhone App
Bookcase being used for its intended purpose.
At last.

Anyway, both boys seem to be really happy at having their own little area. They both keep wandering in to check it all out. They even had their afternoon nap snuggled up together on Seagull's bed. I really wish I had taken a photo of them so I could add it to this post.

The next room I'm going to tackle is the master bedroom. I think I may have to take a leaf out of Parental Parody's book and just attempt to bag and donate any clothing of Thunder Maker's that I don't like to the Salvo's. Honestly, there is so much of his crap crammed into our massive bedroom closet that there is no room for me to hang anything of mine up. I should really save it for the next post, so I will stop there for now.

Yeah. Giddiup!

Saturday, 25 February 2012

Housekeeping and a D&M

So, I've been avoiding my blog for a while. Part of it is purely because I couldn't be stuffed. Part of it is because I've been doing early shifts for the last couple of weeks while simultaneously trying to fight off a really bad cold/lung infection combo. After two weeks straight of coughing to the point of causing the lining of my throat to bleed, I think I am finally turning the corner.

I got my uni grades for the summer term yesterday - a pass, a credit and a distinction. The subject I got a pass for, I failed the assignment for the subject and it was worth 50% of my mark, so I'm just glad to have passed at all. I suppose that's what happens when you realise 10 minutes before the cutoff time for submission that you are meant to have 10 references for an assignment that is a case study on a 'patient'.

The funny thing about the subject that I got a distinction for is that I got a credit plus on the assignment worth 50% of the mark. The assignment that I waited a week before the due date to start collecting references for and only started to put it together on the day it was due. Meanwhile, there were a heap of people bleating on the course forum after the marks came out, saying that they had busted their humps all term working on the assignment and that they couldn't understand where they had gone wrong. I was thinking to myself that if I was able to get the mark I got by 'phoning it in' at the last minute, where the hell had these people gone wrong? Meh, not my problem, I got a distinction! Man, that makes me sound like a real bitch...

Now that the housekeeping is out of the way, onto the D&M stuff. I've been pondering this one for a while and have finally gotten around to putting fingers to keyboard.

In some ways, I feel a little sad for Wombat.

I feel like he misses out on so much of me, being the second child. Seagull had me all to himself for his first 11 months, and even then, I only went back to work for three days a week until he was about 18 months old. Wombat has never had my undivided attention and I went back to work full time when he was 9 months old.

When I finish work, I feel so wrecked that all I am often capable of is cooking dinner (the last couple of weeks I haven't even been up to that), flaking out in front of the TV and going to bed. I feel guilty that my children spend so much time in front of the TV. I don't read to either of them anywhere near as much as I used to.

I've hardly ever read books to Wombat at all. I've realised in the last couple of days that the only words Wombat says are 'Dad' (often) and 'Mum' (occasionally). Now I'm wondering if my lack of reading to Wombat has resulted in language development delays. I'm going to be contacting a speech pathologist on Monday to make an appointment.

What makes it all even worse is that I feel like I connect better with Seagull on an emotional level. Seagull is outgoing, feisty and fiercely independent. I can relate to that. Wombat on the other hand, is more reserved, quiet and just wants lots of cuddles. As much as I love cuddling Wombat, sometimes I feel smothered by his strong need for physical affection. Then I feel guilty for it.

All in all, I'm feeling like a pretty crappy parent at the moment.

The one thing that makes me feel slightly better about it all is that I am still breastfeeding Wombat. He is 16 months old now and I get some funny looks and offputting comments from some people when they realise that Wombat is still breastfeeding. To be honest, it is one of the few things that I feel like I'm doing right at the moment and as Wombat shows no signs of wanting to give it up, I'm not going to force it.

Even though I tend to find physical contact stiffling, I find the physical closeness of breastfeeding comforting. Except for the times when Wombat decides that he'd rather perfect his gymnastic repertiore whilst attached instead of just laying still. Overall though, it's an experience I find hugely rewarding.

Parenting is certainly not easy. I suppose all anyone can do is their absolute best with the knowledge and resources they have at their disposal. It still doesn't stop me from feeling like crap at times.