As usual, when I take a break from blogging, it's not because it's planned or because I wanted to. I've just been drowning in a sea of overload.
I've been stupidly busy over the last couple of months. I've finally realised that taking on three subjects at uni while settling into a new unit, a new location, a new house and having two small children to look after is too much. Unfortunately, it is way too late in the term to do anything about it now except get my assignments done, cram for the one subject that has an exam and take the hint to slow down more seriously next term.
In the meantime, I've found I've been dropping the ball in all areas of my life. Working a 7 day late shift at work in the same week as I had two assignments due, one of which I'd actually stuffed up on the submission date and was fortunately given an extra week to do it, doesn't help. To be fair, late shift consists of clicking a few buttons if/when things fail and is otherwise a buttload of boring, so I used the time to get my assignments done.
Now that I've got the assignments done and handed in, and I have recovered from last week's late shift, I'm finally feeling like I'm getting on top of it all. I still have some online multiple choice quizzes to do for one of my subjects, weekly e-Journal submissions to do for the second subject and I also have a group assignment and some more multiple choice quizzes to do for the third subject. Wow, you realise your life is messed up when what I have left to do for the term doesn't sound like much at all.
Next week I scored someone else's 7 day early shift at work. On the plus side, I get a whole week off work afterward. Actually I get two weeks because I have to go to residential school for uni. However, my first week off is what I'm really hanging out for.
Saturday, 21 April 2012
Monday, 12 March 2012
Wombat the chatterbox
The other week I was blogging about how I didn't feel like I had as much of a connection with Wombat as I would like, among other things. In that post I mentioned that Wombat doesn't talk much and that I was going to make an appointment to see a speech pathologist. Well, last week we went to see one.
We had to swing by Seagull's pre-school, which is on base to drop him off first. As we were leaving the base, Wombat had a really confused look on his face. I suppose he was wondering why we weren't dropping him off at childcare.
I wasn't too sure what to expect. The speech pathologist had a few toys and books set up on her table. Wombat was interested and was given a toy train to play with while Thunder Maker and I had a chat with the speech pathologist.
Wombat went back to the table, but all of the toys were out of his reach. The speech pathologist grabbed the toy that Wombat wanted and sat down on the floor to play with him. Over the hour of our appointment, they played with several toys. Wombat also came over to me at one point and was getting a bit whingy, so I started jigging him up and down on my knee and singing a song that he likes. It goes:
Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up horsey!
Giddy up, giddy up, GO GO GO!
Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up horsey!
Giddy up, giddy up, WHOA!
By the way, you know you've been singing that song way too much when you catch yourself singing it while on weekend shift at work. At least there was no one else around to hear it. Anyway.
The speech pathologist suggested that I don't start singing the song until Wombat indicates that he wants me to. At the moment, his approximation of "giddy up" is "g g g" while he jigs up and down on my knee. It's pretty cute. I also have to stop just before the "GO GO GO" bit until Wombat says it to me. Again, all I get is "g g g", but the speech pathologist says that's OK. At least he is trying.
After a few more pieces of advice, we headed back to the base to drop Wombat off at childcare. We got there right as lunch was being served up so he was a very happy little boy.
Since the appointment, something seems to have clicked with Wombat and he is trying to communicate so much more. He's started going through the stage of handing me things and saying "Ta". He is generally coming up to me much more to initiate play.
However, I've also realised that whenever we sit down to play, Seagull is butting in and sort of taking over. Obviously, he is not doing it for any other reason than he wants to be involved, but it means that Wombat doesn't get as much of an opportunity to practice his speech. Right now I am trying to figure out how I can play more with Wombat in a way that is going to improve his speech without Seagull butting in. All I have been able to come up with is to tell Seagull that he needs to be quiet and let Wombat have a turn.
One unexpected consequence of Wombat's efforts to communicate is that I feel like we are bonding really well with each other. It feels like we are on the same wavelength without any interferrence for once. I've spent so much time watching Wombat sleeping lately just marvelling at how cute and peaceful he looks.
We had to swing by Seagull's pre-school, which is on base to drop him off first. As we were leaving the base, Wombat had a really confused look on his face. I suppose he was wondering why we weren't dropping him off at childcare.
I wasn't too sure what to expect. The speech pathologist had a few toys and books set up on her table. Wombat was interested and was given a toy train to play with while Thunder Maker and I had a chat with the speech pathologist.
Wombat went back to the table, but all of the toys were out of his reach. The speech pathologist grabbed the toy that Wombat wanted and sat down on the floor to play with him. Over the hour of our appointment, they played with several toys. Wombat also came over to me at one point and was getting a bit whingy, so I started jigging him up and down on my knee and singing a song that he likes. It goes:
Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up horsey!
Giddy up, giddy up, GO GO GO!
Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up horsey!
Giddy up, giddy up, WHOA!
By the way, you know you've been singing that song way too much when you catch yourself singing it while on weekend shift at work. At least there was no one else around to hear it. Anyway.
The speech pathologist suggested that I don't start singing the song until Wombat indicates that he wants me to. At the moment, his approximation of "giddy up" is "g g g" while he jigs up and down on my knee. It's pretty cute. I also have to stop just before the "GO GO GO" bit until Wombat says it to me. Again, all I get is "g g g", but the speech pathologist says that's OK. At least he is trying.
After a few more pieces of advice, we headed back to the base to drop Wombat off at childcare. We got there right as lunch was being served up so he was a very happy little boy.
Since the appointment, something seems to have clicked with Wombat and he is trying to communicate so much more. He's started going through the stage of handing me things and saying "Ta". He is generally coming up to me much more to initiate play.
However, I've also realised that whenever we sit down to play, Seagull is butting in and sort of taking over. Obviously, he is not doing it for any other reason than he wants to be involved, but it means that Wombat doesn't get as much of an opportunity to practice his speech. Right now I am trying to figure out how I can play more with Wombat in a way that is going to improve his speech without Seagull butting in. All I have been able to come up with is to tell Seagull that he needs to be quiet and let Wombat have a turn.
One unexpected consequence of Wombat's efforts to communicate is that I feel like we are bonding really well with each other. It feels like we are on the same wavelength without any interferrence for once. I've spent so much time watching Wombat sleeping lately just marvelling at how cute and peaceful he looks.
Sunday, 11 March 2012
Why I don't have to change nappies
Until Thursday, this was taking up prime real estate on the dorsal surface back of my wrist:
It first took up residence a few weeks after Wombat was born. I freaked out at first, not knowing what the hell it was. Fortunately, I had an appointment with my doctor about something else the day after I noticed it.
The doctor told me that it was a ganglion cyst and that if I wanted it gone, that I would need to have surgery. He also told me that they can come back after surgery and that if it wasn't hurting me that I should just leave it alone. It was hurting to get Wombat in and out of his car seat at the time, but he was only a few weeks old and I didn't want to have to manage the logistics of breastfeeding and general anaesthesia, so I decided to leave it alone.
A couple of months later, it went away. Then it came back again later that day.
I left it alone for over a year, but I eventually found that I was losing strength in my wrist. I decided to go see a doctor about it once I started work at my new posting location.
I was referred to an osteosurgeon who specialises in upper limb surgery and he booked me in to have it removed. Thursday just gone was that day.
On the way to my appointment, I told Seagull that I was going to have the big ugly lump removed from the back of my hand. Seagull said "big u- lump". It was pretty cute.
I was booked in to go into surgery at 5pm, but predictably, I didn't go in until 6pm. Given that the surgery took place at a place that was nearly an hour from home, Thunder Maker had to bring the boys with him. There was a Hungry Jacks just down the road so the plan was for Thunder Maker to take them there for dinner and let them play on the play equipment there for as long as they would stay amused on it. The play equipment turned out to be designed for larger/older children than Seagull and Wombat, so the visit was short-lived.
I remember the anaesthetist taking a while to find a vein in the back of my hand and telling him that he may struggle to find anything. Then he slipped the needle into the back of my hand. I then had a little conversation with him and the anaesthetist nurse about how I hate anything involving needles at work because the RAAF medics always struggle to find my veins and I end up walking out with 5 puncture sites after having to have blood taken.
I remember being told that normally they wouldn't run saline through a patient having my procedure done, but because I'm breastfeeding and I'd been fasting for the last 8 hours that they would put one through me so that my milk supply wouldn't be too badly affected. I was also told to pump and dump the first lot of milk so that Wombat wouldn't be drugged out by it, but that he would be fine to breastfeed after that.
It was at about this point that I realised the anaesthetic was starting to kick in. Next thing I knew, I was in recovery trying to see what time it was. My wrist was bandaged up and feeling sore and cold. I snuggled it in under the blanket. The nurse was really nice and noticed that I was cold. It was time to move me into the post recovery area, so the nurse grabbed me a warmed blanket and swapped it over as she was getting me settled into a nice comfy chair.
Once I'd had a sandwich and a cup of tea, the nurse helped me to get dressed. I was really grateful to have someone to do up my bra because that wasn't going to happen if I'd had to do it myself.
When I was dressed, the nurse brought Thunder Maker and the boys in to give us the post-op information. After that, we were free to go.
Fortunately it really hasn't been that sore. Especially given that I'm allergic to all the good painkillers like Panadeine and Panadeine Forte.
Yesterday I was getting my breakfast when I looked at what I can actually see of the back of my hand. My reaction was WTF?!
I started popping neurofen in an effort to get the swelling down. I'm not too sure that it's really worked because this is what I woke up to this morning:
I decided it was time to take my rings off. By the way, the only reason I'm not grossing you all out with pictures of my stitches is because my stupid bandage has to stay on until I go back to have the stitches out. I'm suspecting the bandage is going to look pretty manky by the Monday after next.
The best thing about all of this is having a legitimate excuse for not having to change nappies.
 | |||
| Ganglion cyst, a.k.a. "big ugly lump" |
It first took up residence a few weeks after Wombat was born. I freaked out at first, not knowing what the hell it was. Fortunately, I had an appointment with my doctor about something else the day after I noticed it.
The doctor told me that it was a ganglion cyst and that if I wanted it gone, that I would need to have surgery. He also told me that they can come back after surgery and that if it wasn't hurting me that I should just leave it alone. It was hurting to get Wombat in and out of his car seat at the time, but he was only a few weeks old and I didn't want to have to manage the logistics of breastfeeding and general anaesthesia, so I decided to leave it alone.
A couple of months later, it went away. Then it came back again later that day.
I left it alone for over a year, but I eventually found that I was losing strength in my wrist. I decided to go see a doctor about it once I started work at my new posting location.
I was referred to an osteosurgeon who specialises in upper limb surgery and he booked me in to have it removed. Thursday just gone was that day.
On the way to my appointment, I told Seagull that I was going to have the big ugly lump removed from the back of my hand. Seagull said "big u- lump". It was pretty cute.
I was booked in to go into surgery at 5pm, but predictably, I didn't go in until 6pm. Given that the surgery took place at a place that was nearly an hour from home, Thunder Maker had to bring the boys with him. There was a Hungry Jacks just down the road so the plan was for Thunder Maker to take them there for dinner and let them play on the play equipment there for as long as they would stay amused on it. The play equipment turned out to be designed for larger/older children than Seagull and Wombat, so the visit was short-lived.
I remember the anaesthetist taking a while to find a vein in the back of my hand and telling him that he may struggle to find anything. Then he slipped the needle into the back of my hand. I then had a little conversation with him and the anaesthetist nurse about how I hate anything involving needles at work because the RAAF medics always struggle to find my veins and I end up walking out with 5 puncture sites after having to have blood taken.
I remember being told that normally they wouldn't run saline through a patient having my procedure done, but because I'm breastfeeding and I'd been fasting for the last 8 hours that they would put one through me so that my milk supply wouldn't be too badly affected. I was also told to pump and dump the first lot of milk so that Wombat wouldn't be drugged out by it, but that he would be fine to breastfeed after that.
It was at about this point that I realised the anaesthetic was starting to kick in. Next thing I knew, I was in recovery trying to see what time it was. My wrist was bandaged up and feeling sore and cold. I snuggled it in under the blanket. The nurse was really nice and noticed that I was cold. It was time to move me into the post recovery area, so the nurse grabbed me a warmed blanket and swapped it over as she was getting me settled into a nice comfy chair.
Once I'd had a sandwich and a cup of tea, the nurse helped me to get dressed. I was really grateful to have someone to do up my bra because that wasn't going to happen if I'd had to do it myself.
When I was dressed, the nurse brought Thunder Maker and the boys in to give us the post-op information. After that, we were free to go.
Fortunately it really hasn't been that sore. Especially given that I'm allergic to all the good painkillers like Panadeine and Panadeine Forte.
Yesterday I was getting my breakfast when I looked at what I can actually see of the back of my hand. My reaction was WTF?!
 |
| Note the blue/purple bruising. Not that you can see it, but it is really swollen too. |
 |
| Swollen and blue up to my knuckles. Trust me, the real thing looks more impressive than this picture. |
The best thing about all of this is having a legitimate excuse for not having to change nappies.
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.
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.
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!
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.
 |
| 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.
 | ||
| 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.
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.
Saturday, 21 January 2012
New beginnings
There's something to be said for moving into a new house. Yes, it was sad to move away from the wonderful friends we had made during the last six years and it was especially hard to leave the house we had bought and turned into our home. The home that we had brought two newborn babies home to. As hard a decision it was to make, I definitely feel it was the right one.
The decision to move was a lot easier for me than it was for Thunder Maker. Thunder Maker does not respond well to change. He was happy in his own corner of the world, in his own house. He had made friends, formed attachments and joined a band. Whilst it was hard for me, especially knowing Thunder Maker's feelings on the subject, the predominant emotion I experienced prior to the move was excitement.
For me, this move feels like I've travelled full circle. I was born up this way, lived in the area until I was about 4. My Dad, who I never got to see much of when I was growing up now lives a 40 minute drive away. I finally get to see more of my little sisters. My only regret is not being able to move up here when they were younger. Now they are on the cusp of puberty and I find myself not knowing how to connect with them.
I feel a much greater emotional attachment to where I'm living now than in our own house in Victoria. In honour of our move, I have started to grow some seedlings. I'm usually pretty crap at growing things - I usually either under water or over water things, either way ending up with dead plants or seeds that have failed to germinate.
However, I found myself wanting to try to grow something again. I usually prefer (to attempt) to grow plants that are useful, rather than ornamental plants. Mostly, I have stuck to growing edible plants this time, but I am also growing something especially for Thunder Maker. First up, I have planted some mini cucumber seeds. This is the result so far:
I transplanted the seedlings from the seed container I started them in to the pot this afternoon. I snapped the roots off the one in the middle as I was trying to get it out of the original container, so I stuck it in the pot just in case it grows some new roots. I know it's not going to happen, but I figure there's no harm in trying anyway.
Last weekend I planted some herb seeds. Specifically basil, chives and flat leaf parsley. A couple of days ago, I was rewarded with this:
The basil seedlings are to the left and the top of the left centre row. The rest of that row and the right centre row are chive seedlings. The parsley hasn't sprouted yet, but the packet the seeds came in leads me to believe that it takes longer for them to germinate than basil or chives.
Finally, I'm having yet another crack at growing a bonsai. I've tried a few times, both from seed and seedlings. In the case of seedlings, I have managed to kill them and the seeds I have planted have failed to germinate.
I actually bought a bonsai seed kit from National Geographic last year. However, I found out when I went to grow my seeds last June that my seeds are best grown when overnight temperatures are consistently above 15 degrees Celsius. So I put the kit away and waited. I decided a fortnight ago when I found the seed kit that we were now good to go.
I wasn't holding my breath, but a couple of days ago, I was pleasently surprised to find this:
There appears to be at least another two plants that are growing, but they haven't grown shoots tall enough to break the surface of the growing medium yet.
I am attempting to grow Thunder Maker a bonsai Jacaranda tree. They are his absolute favourite tree and he has always wanted one. About 18 months after we had bought and moved into our house in Victoria, we discovered when it flowered, that the spindly looking tree that the previous owners had planted smack up on the house in a garden bed was in fact a Jacaranda.
Thunder Maker was elated, but we had to move the tree out into the yard because it was going to end up causing massive problems if we left it where it was. My grandparents helped us move it just before Wombat was born and we all crossed our fingers and prayed that it would survive.
Fortunately, it did and it was looking very healthy when we moved out of the house. Moving away from his Jacaranda was just one more thing that Thunder Maker was upset about, so I'm hoping that I don't totally botch growing a bonsai. If I can actually pull this off, Thunder Maker will always have a Jacaranda, no matter where we go.
So yeah, if anyone has any tips on how not to kill my seedlings, especially the bonsai ones, feel free to share.
The decision to move was a lot easier for me than it was for Thunder Maker. Thunder Maker does not respond well to change. He was happy in his own corner of the world, in his own house. He had made friends, formed attachments and joined a band. Whilst it was hard for me, especially knowing Thunder Maker's feelings on the subject, the predominant emotion I experienced prior to the move was excitement.
For me, this move feels like I've travelled full circle. I was born up this way, lived in the area until I was about 4. My Dad, who I never got to see much of when I was growing up now lives a 40 minute drive away. I finally get to see more of my little sisters. My only regret is not being able to move up here when they were younger. Now they are on the cusp of puberty and I find myself not knowing how to connect with them.
I feel a much greater emotional attachment to where I'm living now than in our own house in Victoria. In honour of our move, I have started to grow some seedlings. I'm usually pretty crap at growing things - I usually either under water or over water things, either way ending up with dead plants or seeds that have failed to germinate.
However, I found myself wanting to try to grow something again. I usually prefer (to attempt) to grow plants that are useful, rather than ornamental plants. Mostly, I have stuck to growing edible plants this time, but I am also growing something especially for Thunder Maker. First up, I have planted some mini cucumber seeds. This is the result so far:
 | |||
| Freshly transplanted mini cucumber plants |
I transplanted the seedlings from the seed container I started them in to the pot this afternoon. I snapped the roots off the one in the middle as I was trying to get it out of the original container, so I stuck it in the pot just in case it grows some new roots. I know it's not going to happen, but I figure there's no harm in trying anyway.
Last weekend I planted some herb seeds. Specifically basil, chives and flat leaf parsley. A couple of days ago, I was rewarded with this:
 |
| Basil and chive seedlings. Still waiting for the parsely. |
Finally, I'm having yet another crack at growing a bonsai. I've tried a few times, both from seed and seedlings. In the case of seedlings, I have managed to kill them and the seeds I have planted have failed to germinate.
I actually bought a bonsai seed kit from National Geographic last year. However, I found out when I went to grow my seeds last June that my seeds are best grown when overnight temperatures are consistently above 15 degrees Celsius. So I put the kit away and waited. I decided a fortnight ago when I found the seed kit that we were now good to go.
I wasn't holding my breath, but a couple of days ago, I was pleasently surprised to find this:
 |
| Hooray! Green stuff! |
I am attempting to grow Thunder Maker a bonsai Jacaranda tree. They are his absolute favourite tree and he has always wanted one. About 18 months after we had bought and moved into our house in Victoria, we discovered when it flowered, that the spindly looking tree that the previous owners had planted smack up on the house in a garden bed was in fact a Jacaranda.
Thunder Maker was elated, but we had to move the tree out into the yard because it was going to end up causing massive problems if we left it where it was. My grandparents helped us move it just before Wombat was born and we all crossed our fingers and prayed that it would survive.
Fortunately, it did and it was looking very healthy when we moved out of the house. Moving away from his Jacaranda was just one more thing that Thunder Maker was upset about, so I'm hoping that I don't totally botch growing a bonsai. If I can actually pull this off, Thunder Maker will always have a Jacaranda, no matter where we go.
So yeah, if anyone has any tips on how not to kill my seedlings, especially the bonsai ones, feel free to share.
Saturday, 14 January 2012
Mother Moment at the pie shop
I've been busting my hump over the last few days to get an assignment done for uni that I was given a week's extension on due to moving state, not having internet access during that time, etc. Of course, the extension happened to coincide with a trip to Sydney that Thunder Maker had planned so that we could visit his Mum. Way to make effective use of the time I was given for the extension. Not.
It was a productive trip in other ways though. When we weren't spending time with the MIL, I was spending money on new bras (apparently I measure as a 12 on my torso under my boobs now rather than a 10), exercise clothing, new sandals, new runners and a new iPhone.
Yes, I convinced Thunder Maker to take on my old phone which still has a year to go on its contract and went to the local Apple store to get me a new iPhone. I'm of the opinion that Siri is gimped in Australia by virtue of the fact that you can't use it to get directions, but it's pretty cool to just be able to tell Siri who you want to call and have it happen. Yes, I am that lazy that I tell my phone who to call rather than press a few buttons.
Anyway, enough about my iPhone. I had a doozy of a mother moment today. We had been to our initial appointment with our new chiropractor. Whilst what she did is very effective, she manhandles us all a lot more than our old chiropractor did. Still, she's nice, she explained what she was doing in great detail and the kids love her.
We decided to go out for lunch because we could and because I wasprocrastinating mulling over the direction I wanted to go in with my assignment. There is an awesome pie shop sort of near us, but it's too far away from home to go there just to get a pie. It happens to be about 5 minutes away from our new chiropractor though, so we decided to take advantage of it.
After we had finished our pies, I asked Thunder Maker if we should get some of the shop's take away pies. He was keen, so I got back in line to order. I left Seagull and Wombat with Thunder Maker at the table. A couple of seconds after I stood in the line, I noticed the shape of a small random child in my peripherary. I was wondering who this small child belonged to and why was he standing so close to me. I tried to move away a bit and he moved in sync with me, still at the edge of my peripheral vision. At this point I wondered why the small child wasn't going to go away.
It was only at this point that I thought to look down. The small random child was actually Seagull.
Oh, and Seagull found a $2 coin on the ground at the pie shop too.
It was a productive trip in other ways though. When we weren't spending time with the MIL, I was spending money on new bras (apparently I measure as a 12 on my torso under my boobs now rather than a 10), exercise clothing, new sandals, new runners and a new iPhone.
Yes, I convinced Thunder Maker to take on my old phone which still has a year to go on its contract and went to the local Apple store to get me a new iPhone. I'm of the opinion that Siri is gimped in Australia by virtue of the fact that you can't use it to get directions, but it's pretty cool to just be able to tell Siri who you want to call and have it happen. Yes, I am that lazy that I tell my phone who to call rather than press a few buttons.
Anyway, enough about my iPhone. I had a doozy of a mother moment today. We had been to our initial appointment with our new chiropractor. Whilst what she did is very effective, she manhandles us all a lot more than our old chiropractor did. Still, she's nice, she explained what she was doing in great detail and the kids love her.
We decided to go out for lunch because we could and because I was
After we had finished our pies, I asked Thunder Maker if we should get some of the shop's take away pies. He was keen, so I got back in line to order. I left Seagull and Wombat with Thunder Maker at the table. A couple of seconds after I stood in the line, I noticed the shape of a small random child in my peripherary. I was wondering who this small child belonged to and why was he standing so close to me. I tried to move away a bit and he moved in sync with me, still at the edge of my peripheral vision. At this point I wondered why the small child wasn't going to go away.
It was only at this point that I thought to look down. The small random child was actually Seagull.
Oh, and Seagull found a $2 coin on the ground at the pie shop too.
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