Three Ring Circus

There is horses flu everywhere in NSW. It started up here in the boonies, apparently. Horses all over Australia are being quarantined so as not to infect the rest of the equine community. It leads me to wonder what it would be like if you were standing next to a horse, with the flu, when he sneezed… gooey springs to mind, wet, ummmm… green?

Here is a joke as told by a 3rd grader (column 8, Sydney Morning Herald) ; Q:Where do the horses go when they have the flu? A: They go to the horse - pital!!!

It seems there is alot of that going around, the flu I mean and sneezing. When you are the mother of atopically challenged children, you don’t hate Spring but you don’t love it either. The weather here has been the typical asthma inducing type, gloriously and unseasonably warm in the day, with hot gusts of wind and freezing at night. Out of the seven children, four are currently dealing with their asthma. For the older girls, it’s more a case of compliance to their medication and upping the dose accordingly but for Ivy and Noah it is a series of nebulisers, preventers and then prednisone when things get bad…and nebbing two cranky toddlers every three hours is about as bad as it can be (for me) before we seek hospital admission.

Although, I am slowly (so slowly) coming to the realisation that gaining admission to hospital in the boonies is harder than it is in the big smoke.  Personally, I think it has more to do with paeds than with anything else. When Imogen and Madeline were little and I was inexperienced in asthma induced problems, I would ring their paed (a wonderful female doctor) and she would see me. In later years, we had a standing letter for the hospital and if I phoned the doctor she would more often than not meet us in the children’s ward. She was, in my opinion, a true paediatrician. Not only did she look after the girls’ well being but when their parents were getting a touch of the crazies, she could see it and would use her ‘assertive practitioner skills’ to guide us into hospital, so that we could have support too. She was a Godsend. Fast forward eleven years and my how things have changed!

Now, you can’t even get in to see your paed. You have to beg the receptionist for five minutes of his time. When you make a mercy call in the morning, if you are lucky, he will call you back at dinnertime…when the babies have really lost the plot, are crying at the top of their lungs, other children are scattered throughout the house in varying stages of undress, showering or getting redressed, because, on top of everything else, you have agreed to let the school aged children go to the fundraising disco, which has been scheduled for, you guessed it, dinnertime.

If you say you are not coping and that your week is like a living hell, the new age paed will be encouraging of your feelings of self doubt by belittling them and cussing about how horrible his week has been. (Of course it is impossible for a lowly SAHM/midwife to have a worse week than a doctor). If you then concede to being able to cope at home for a few more days on the understanding that you will be able to see him first thing Monday morning, you can then expect to be told that his schedule for that day is ‘disasterous’ and he can only squeeze you in at 8am (breakfast time and leaving for the bus time).

Unless you throw a mother (pardon the pun) of a tanty and tell the doctor that you are not going to make one more decision regarding the health of your babies because HE is the doctor and should be ‘guiding’ we parentals (medical training or no), do not expect the millenium paed to aquire ‘assertive practitioner skills’ anytime in the forseeable future. You see, he does not want to make the wrong choice at the risk of being sued. AAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!

While I very much like our paed, I find him very frustrating…hang on, there is a common thread here. I find all doctors frustrating! Well, what do you know? Is that what they call an epiphany?

your almost two year old daughter comes out from rummaging in your bedroom, exclaiming, ‘Hat! Hat!’ looking like this:

Yes, that is her 21 month sized head inside one of my bra cups. That leads one to hope that she has an exceptionally large head and that I have a small bust but this is reality people and we all know the truth (sadly her normal sized head still had room in my ample cup). In a few short years I will be able to tuck them into my nanna undies…

1. Do not feed your babies pumpkin, sweet potato and carrot mix for dinner and then take them out Father’s Day shopping the next day. That is a very bad move. Post - pumpkin - poo is bright orange and runny and will squelch out of nappies and onto the stroller. Pumpkin poo is also very smelly and will not please the nostrils of the shoppers and staff in Big W. You will need to make a hasty exit if one (or in this case both) of the babies decide to do their duds whilst in the shopping centre. Also, Huggies wipes are severely inadequate to mop up said poo.

2. Five point harnesses are useless and are not a safety feature on your stroller or your highchair when you have almost two year olds. They are pointless (and hard to clean post pumpkin poo blow outs). It doesn’t matter how you attach the shoulder straps, ’norties’ babies are alot smarter than ‘nineties’ babies and they will wriggle out of them. ( An anonymous contributor suggested that the shoulder straps should go once around the neck before joining to the belt. I’m a little skeptical about this proposal but I have to say, as time passes, it is becoming a seemingly plausable idea. The same contributor just asked if I could swipe restraints from the hospital and use them… for him, me or them?).

3. It doesn’t matter how many times you ask a baby to get down from the top of the outdoor table, remove him, beg him, he will not learn that what he is doing is dangerous until he falls off and bangs his chin and draws blood.

4. There is no point in making a chicken and cheese sandwich for almost two year olds. By the time they are finished disassembling them and eating the parts that they want and throwing the other parts to the dogs, you come to the realisation that you may as well have just given them bread and butter.

5. When you have toddlers in the house, it is wise to invest in at least one dog otherwise you will spend all of nap time cleaning up after meals.

At least, that is what he looked like at 4am this morning when he was in my bed trying to evict my eyeballs from their sockets. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a blue and white striped Bonds suit and the most devilish of grins, dimples included.

Why, oh why won’t my babies sleep through the night? When I took them home from the NICU the nurses commented on how lucky we were to have NICU trained babies. ‘They’re in a good routine’, they said, ‘they’ll just wake and feed, wake and feed’, another commented.

Look, don’t get me wrong, that is great when you bring them home, newborn from the hospital.When you are happy to baby gaze and you want to feed them every three hours, when you are floating on the pink fluffy clouds of euphoria. The trouble is, they can’t seem to break that routine and they are ALMOST two!!!! Two! Those pink, fluffy clouds are looking awfully grey and stormy, right about now.

For goodness sake, I am so sleep deprived! I can’t think straight anymore. Give me a break!(Please)

Here are some hints for Ivy and Noah (and any other babies out there who refuse to sleep through the night);

Do NOT come into my bed unless you want to snuggle down and sleep. If you want to seek and destroy, then do it in your own room. Mummies and Daddies need to sleep, otherwise they get cranky in the day. You, know, that time when you want them at their best, so they can dote upon you?

If you wake up very early in the morning, it will not put you in good stead to demand a ‘bockle’ (bottle) and then hit me in the face when it is not forth coming. No amount of hitting will get me or your father up in the freezing cold to get you a drink.

If you wake up in the middle of the night, do not get out of bed and wake up your brother or sister as well. We will be alot friendlier if there is only one baby to put back to sleep. Two wailing babies is just asking for trouble.

If you have to wake up can you please do it half an hour BEFORE we go to bed, not half an hour AFTER? If you haven’t guessed by now, when parents go to bed, they are exhausted and are asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. Half an hour in is serious REM time and you are interrupting the most restful part of the night.

Finally, if you do happen to wake several times during the night (and expect us to get out of bed to resettle you), when Mummy says it’s time for a day sleep, know that she means it. Know that you running around in overtired hyperactivity mode makes Mummy more tired. Mummy saying time for sleep is not an invitation for you to start up a conversation of babble with your sibling. It is not the time to do a poo in your clean nappy and it is not the time to chant some baby mantra at the top of your lungs. Sleep means sleep (and time out for your worn out caregiver…often a first opportunity to shower and have some nutrition for the day so that she has the energy to bend to your every whim).

P.S. Another little hint; even just one night of full sleep will do wonders for the Mummy and the Daddy. Take that into consideration when you go to bed tonight.

With every good intention of getting the washing under control on the first full day of being at home in over a week I knuckled down and did this:

I found this site http://www.simpsonsmovie.com/ (in between loads, of course) and turned my mug into a Simpsons character.

What do you think? Pretty lifelike, hey?

More blogs that I’ve discovered that are a really good read…

http://twinkies.bastetweb.com/ a blog about life with twins.

http://smilingmom.com/  

http://whoorl.com/

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com/

http://www.notesfromthetrenches.com/

http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/

http://joyunexpected.com/

http://nelsongaggle.blogspot.com/

 funny motherhood inspired blogs.

A friend of mine (thanks Mel) just sent me this link http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=130144061675&ru=http%25. OMG! It is seriously the funniest thing I have ever read but sounds scarily like when we all go shopping! You have to look at this one. It belongs to this blogger http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com:80/

20 days to go until we leave for (not so sunny) Queensland. It would be flooding, wouldn’t it? In our choice of destination. UGH. At least there are 20 days for it all to dry up and it WILL dry up or there is going to be trouble! Now I’ve said that, I’m not exactly sure how much trouble I (squishy, jelly bellied, 30 something woman) can inflict on an entire state but it sounded good, threatening, scary, don’t you think? No? Oh well. Maybe I’ll just take it out on David, afterall, Queensland was his choice and the floodgates haven’t opened in Fiji, now, have they?

Seriously, we are looking forward to it. 20 days is not long to have to wait. We just have to get organised and that is going to be the hard part, I think.

Yesterday we went to AJ’s semi final match against Singleton. It was a close game and after full time, it was 1 goal to each side. So we went into overtime. Again, no one got a goal (although it was SO close on many occasions and had all the parents on tenderhooks on the side of the field). Finally we went to penalty kicks and, although AJ’s team, The Bellbird Bombers, played a mighty game, they lost to Singleton. The boys were devastated but we were all proud of them. They worked so well as a team and played like champions! I know I couldn’t run around kicking a ball for almost two hours without needing some kind of medical assistance afterwards. AJ rallied well and is now looking towards the next season when he has been promised a place as a midfield player, instead of a sweeper (which he found incredibly unfulfilling).

Before the game, we stopped to get some supplies and I picked up a Cadbury’s Dad bag for Dave as an early Father’s Day present. As we climbed back into the car, Noah, who had noticed the purple bag started running through his food mantra. "Gubem, narnar, hartee," and then we heard

"clock - o -lart"!

Clockolart! He had identified the purple Cadbury’s symbol as chocolate!! As we approached the field both our chocolate junkies were complaining bitterly because the sweet had not been forthcoming. David bribed them into the stroller with the promise of some choc buttons and with that the fun began. I’ve never seen chocolate disappear so fast. By the time I called it to an end, Ivy and Noah had consumed a whole roll of the buttons! When I said enough, they cried and whinged and begged for more! The only way to stop it was to redirect them to the playground, with the big girls. Oh dear. We had such good intentions when we started parenting eleven long years ago.

Today is Sunday, a day of rest. It’s a TGIO day. Thank God It’s Over. I’m talking about Star Struck. Tuesday and Wednesday rehersals, all day Thursday, Thursday night (it was a fantastic show - I highly recommend it for next year), home at 1am, then back on the bus at 8am for a matinee and a night performance, home again at close to one then back again for a Saturday night show. To say that Imogen and Madeline are exhausted is an understatement. They had a ball in the performances, of course, but the mornings were reduced to a series of bickering (amongst themselves) and tears from being so tired and overwhelmed. As much as they enjoyed themselves, I think they are glad for it to be finished with for this year too. This morning they have dragged themselves out of bed and are quietly slothing around the house…well, not now, now they are cleaning out the bus with the other kids, in preparation for our trip but they were very slow to get started today. For early risers, like Immy and Maddy (think 5:30 am since they were toddlers) a 9:30 wake up is a BIG sleep in. 

I think it will take a while for them to get back into the swing of things but what an experience for two 11 year olds who live in the boonies! Lily is going to try out next year so we might have three little performers in the house. Until next year, Star Struck!

Today is Poo Day. My most hated of days and probably the most disliked day for most cloth nappy users. Actually, now I think about it,most days are poo days in this home, where one child is forever on antibiotics and number 2s are frequent, to say the very least. At least she’s regular. Regularly defouling my nappy stash! A good argument for toilet training is Poo Day.

Now, I’m not sure how other MCN mums do it but for me, it’s a put - it - off - until - you - absolutely - have - to kind of thing. The non poo nappies usually just go in with the regular wash or go in as a wee only wash but the poo nappies go in a bucket until I can face them…or until the smell coming out of my laundry gets too funky. Don’t get me wrong people, I do wash them every few days, I’m not that gross!

Anyway, today is the day and it seems that for every pooey nappy I clean and load into the machine, Ivy pumps out one more to counteract my productivity.

Of course, every MCN user has some tools of the trade. There is the poo stick; not to be confused with the wooden spoon (eww), used to scrape the offensive pat into the toilet, it’s a cloth nappy mum’s best friend (or worst enemy, depends on how you look at it, I guess). There are the buckets - used to store the soiled nappy until poo day, then there are gloves (for those who worry) and soap (for those who don’t). Some mums have a thing called a ‘little squirt’ which is a spray hose thing that attaches to the toilet to spray the poo off and into the bowl. I couldn’t bring myself to buy one with visions of my two spraying loo water all around the laundry. Who knows what they might have done!

Gross, I can hear you all whispering, how can she do that?  Wouldn’t it be easier to wrap it all up into a disposable and throw the whole lot out, especially with two little monkies pumping out effluent? Yes, quite frankly, it would and I have BTDT for the first nine months of their lives but variety is the spice of life and why not add something else to the mix to give me a whole lot of curry?

It all started because our ’sposie’ just wasn’t holding overnight, we were getting all sorts of disgusting blowouts and it was causing Ivy to have nappy rash too. After that, it was for the cuteness factor. I love a squishy round clothed bum! Alas, it has become a bit of an obsession. It’s the colours and the different types of textiles that can be used that gets me in. They kind of become like some weird collectors item, some of them, prizes, almost. The harder to get ones, at least. (Insert Homer Simpson drool here). Also, there is just something about a clean pile of nappies that makes me feel like the ultimate mother. (I know, I am a very sad person, with no life).

Anyway, Poo Day Thursday is now almost done. (Thank goodness) The second last load has gone through and I am starting to assemble the dry ones, ready to be warn by Poopeye and Pooperella once again. Ahhh Poo Day. It’s enough to give anyone the s****!

Well, Immy and Maddy have spent the last two days in heavy rehersal for the perfomances of Star Struck. Maddy is singing in the choir and Immy is in the dancing section. Tomorrow they have to be on the bus into the Entertainment Centre at 6am. They have a technical and a dress rehersal and then it’s their first performance!!!!! A BIG day and night. We are all going to watch them tomorrow night (yes, the babies too). I am really looking forward to it. Some of you might remember some months back when Mum and I made lots of costumes, well, it was all for this. Immy says she is not as excited as last time (when it was postponed) but is just as nervous. I think, come tomorrow they will both be really excited  by it all. I am so very proud of them. I’m sure they are going to shine! They have two performances on the Friday and a final performance on Saturday night! They might have lost a bit of their spark, come Sunday. Wish them well. Break a leg, girls!

dedicated to people who love to blog! I have been scrolling through different sites this morning, instead of doing the washing and instead of making lycra boots (I know Mum, I’ve left it to the last minute again!). There are awards and things called widgets, that I don’t understand and there are tags and contacts. My head is spinning. I have SO much to learn! I thought though that I might link you up to some favourites of mine.

This one; Playgroups are no place for children is so funny. Particularly this entry! So funny and true. Followed quickly by this one. Even David was laughing. It was this blog that I found out about blogging communities.

This isn’t a blog but it’s a cool site for those looking for something different for your kids; Babyology It has alot of good sources and links to other good sites. This site Blurb is really cool and I found it on Babyology. It lets you download a program to design your own book. You can put photos and text in and when you are finished you can send it off to be published. I am in the middle of making one up for Ivy and Noah to include photos and thoughts on the first two years. I think it’s a great idea because all my photos are on disk now and I rarely print them off. I’m thinking they could be good for Christmas pressies too, for relatives.

Finally, here is a link to my friend, Trish’s blog. I love reading all about what they get up to.

So if you haven’t started yet, you should seriously look into the world of blogging. Maybe start up your own. Send me a link! I love to read!

What is the Noah - ism for glasses? :Eye - ses, of course!

He is becoming so aware of his surroundings now, noticing things and naming them. It is really interesting to watch. Maybe it’s because I am older and have a better understanding of the different developmental milestones or maybe it’s just because Ivy and Noah are my last babies and I don’t want to miss a single thing, who knows but every new day is an adventure, a new discovery.

Noah was sitting in front of his bedroom window this morning, just watching the world go by, silent and still. Very unlike Noah. When he heard me come into the room he turned to me and pointed outside… ‘rainging’ he said. Just like that. It was raining too, pouring infact, so much so that the scene outside was quite blurred through the rain on the window. Our backyard is starting to resemble a swimming pool again. I hope it stops soon. Imogen and Madeline are in a school production, held every year up here in the Hunter region, called Starstruck. It was supposed to be on in June but was postponed because of the flooding. The performances are all set to start again this week. On Thursday. It would be a shame if it had to be cancelled because of more poor weather. Praying for sunny days here.

AJ’s soccer team made it to the semi finals this weekend. Unfortunately the team lost this round and so his next game is in Singleton. I really hope they win this match. They have played extremely well all season. We need good weather for this too.

For those lovely friends who have been worried about the babies with their gastro, thank you. It means alot to know that you all care. Noah turned the corner on Friday and Ivy, although still not 100% is alot better and they are both eating and drinking now. Maddy and Mal seem to be the only ones who avoided the bug this time around. Fingers crossed that is the last we see of it for 2007.

When gastro has seeped into the very pores of the house and you fear that there is no light at the end of that proverbial tunnel, who do you call for help? You call the two grandmas, of course.

On Thursday, when I was fearful for my son’s life, my mum, "Gran" (or Gan, if you are Noah) came for a ‘visit’. She sat with me and listened while I blubbered about how worried I was. She rocked the little girl, who was also very sick, in the rocking chair, made cups of tea and was generally a shoulder to cry on. She looked after me, mothered the mother. When, in the early afternoon hours, I decided enough was enough and took Noah up to the local hospital (I know, I said I wouldn’t but some fools never learn) she stayed at home and waited for the big kids to get back from school and calmed them. After almost a week coping on my own, she was some welcomed adult companionship. There was no hesitation about coming out to help, even though we had poo and spew from one end of the house to the other.

The next day, having picked up the scent of a family member in need, "Grandma" (Mamar) David’s mum came to my aid. Even though Noah was feeling slightly better and ventured off my lap to move over to hers, my arms were now full with the very sick little girl. More sitting and rocking, more cuddling of babies, more cups of tea, food, washing on and off the line, conversation and reassurance. Even after sage warnings that the gastro bug was a nasty one and she would catch it, she still made her way up to the boonies.

Quietly and efficiently these women work their magic. They are just there when you need them the most. We are very lucky to have them in our lives.

When I took Noah up to the local hospital the doctor came in and looked him over and declared him ‘not sick enough for hospital’. I was upset, to say the least that we were being turned away. Noah, who was a semi comatose ball of lethargy on my lap did not have a heart rate high enough (it was only 149 bpm) his tongue and mouth weren’t that dry, his eyes weren’t sunken enough and vomiting three to four times a day for four days was just not enough. I felt that we had hung in there long enough and the fact that Noah hadn’t moved from my lap in over twelve hours was a bad sign, that and the fact that his temperature was high and his hands and feet were deathly cold (a sign that the body is peripherally shutting down, keeping circulation close to the major organs) but not bad at all, according to the doctor. So, with a bottle of hydrolyte I left the hospital, feeling for all the world like a paranoid mother. When I arrived home the paed called and we discussed things. His cries of ‘for the love of God, don’t bother with the local hospital anymore.’ did not fall on deaf ears this time. Never the less, we pushed through the night with sips of water, terrible stomach cramps and tired, fragile babies and parents… and we made it - just.

Ivy was not in good form today but again, we will push through the night and hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.

…in this world that is worse than gastro. It is called PMD or Pathetic Male Disease. It only afflicts the men (boys) of the household. What it means is that when they do catch a cold (or in this case gastro) they catch it FAR worse than any woman (girl) ever could (in their humble opinion). Such is the nature of the disease. When it rears its ugly head it gives them liscence to moan and groan loudly, lie in bed, when everyone else has to get up, hover closely to the matriach of the household and look pathetic. In baby boys’ cases, this insideous illness turns ordinarily independent boys into quivering lumps of human flesh who cannot possibly walk anywhere for themselves. They can no longer talk, only point and grunt to the object that they require (This applies to older boys and adult men too). When boys are struck down with this it makes them grizzle loudly and whinge at everything, no matter what the matriach of the house tries. Men who come down with this bug make an overstated point of soldiering on, even though they are obviously dying, so that the women of the house will praise his ability to go on.

While many women believe that this disease is confined to the male population in their home only, it is believed that PMD is a worldwide phenomenon.

Take heart ladies. Most men who are afflicted with PMD turn out to be very good caretakers if the matriarchs ever contract anything!

Today, with the thought of having to transport vomiting children anywhere, I am thankful that I have a bus with vinyl flooring.

Also; David’s take on how to effectively establish communication with the paediatrician - "Ring early, ring often!"

*** WARNING, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SICK OF HEARING ABOUT THE SICK*** (hey, I just realised I can use colour on this blog!)

It’s very early on Monday morning and I know now that Lily’s vomiting was not just a random act of kindness, in wanting to paint my bathroom. In hindsight, it was foolish of me to relax after a respiratory illness as bad as the flu that has just swept through our house. It was foolish and complacent (there is that word again) of me. Did you know that some viruses can cause respiratory infection AND tummy upsets? Adenovirus springs to mind and, obviously, in this house, influenza too. I have had personal experience with my friend adenovirus. Imogen aquired it some years ago and after a particularly nasty ‘cold’ with asthma involved, it travelled through her system, into her gut and…well, you can imagine the rest. So, now gastro has come to reside in this house. As far as I can tell, it comes in varying forms of disgusting. From the throw everything up and feel better in 24 hours to the nauseated feeling of something isn’t quite right that lasts for days and everything in between. Yuck. If there is one thing I hate more than snot, it’s vomit and if there is one thing I hate more than vomit, it’s diarrhoea. Somebody get me a bucket…

When David discovered Ivy had…soiled her bed in the wee hours of the morning he rapidly made his way to go to work. He washed and dressed (while I cleaned Ivy up - he did strip the sheets for me) and while I was dirty (pardon the pun) that he was about to make a clean (oh I crack myself up) getaway, I also had to laugh because his running commentry really lightened the mood.

Ivy and Noah were sitting on the bed, carrying on with their regular banter of babble, squeals and screeches, when Ivy made a rather loud rasberry "thbrrrrrrrr!" sound. David pipes up …’it was like this’ he explained in a high pitched imitation of Ivy’s voice. Then Noah let out an almighty blurt "Thbbbbrrrrttttt"…"more like that, actually," said David, "I’ll tell you how it really happened". Narrating on his son’s behalf. I fell about the bed laughing, the babies staring at me as if I had forgotten to take my crazy pills this morning. Seeing my mirth, he made to leave and I grabbed him and said, "You think you’re going to work and leaving me with the gastro kids, think again Buster!"

His reply to that? "Buster thanked the mice for the wonderful party… and then he ate them" (apparently an old family saying) and with that vacated the quarantined house. I live in a crazy world people, how is one supposed to stay sane?

…until our holiday but who’s counting and wasn’t the weather beautiful today?

Today I was supposed to move all my scrapbooking stuff into Ivy’s old room, wash mountains of sheets, make some lycra boots, clean up my room and rearrange the loungeroom. I was supposed to go food shopping, weed the garden and wash down the stroller. Supposed to.

What I actually did was two loads of sheet washing (which the lovely Maddy hung out for me), a load of school uniforms, I scrubbed down the stroller and while I waited for that to dry, I got in the car with the family and went food shopping…for picnic yummanas. Then we went out to Hunter Valley Gardens for a picnic and basked in the late Winter sun, ate antipasto on paper plates, munched on TOOBS, watched Ivy try to play football and Noah being pulled around in his blue carcar. After we had had our fill of all things delicious we went for a walk and found ourselves in front of the Ice Cream Parlor at Oscars.

For those of you who don’t know, I am an ice cream addict (self confessed). I have lovingly passed this trait onto all of my children (even the non biological kids). The (almost) hardest part of the day was choosing the flavour…the hardest part, really, was having to share with Ivy the ice cream hog!

Did I tell you all that we put Ivy in the big bed? Yep. And, did I tell you that she slept through the night for five nights in a row? No? I didn’t tell you? That’s probably because I was sleeping or catching up on sleep or dozing, dreaming, napping, snoozing, catching some zees, anything you can imagine (don’t get too carried away, people, remember we are parents of seven children and we really are tired) without a baby in the bed. Did I also mention that five nights is just enough time to become complacent and expect that she will continue to do so? Wrong! So wrong. You should NEVER become complacent! Because just when you are least expecting it, she will throw you an all nighter, just to put you back in your place. If you do relax then you can also expect that her brother will wake up too and together they will make your night almost too much to bare, add to that an early morning (4:30am) vomit (picture the toilet literally painted in spew, walls, door, floor, sink…anywhere else BUT the toilet) from Lily and your night is set! Oh and don’t forget to have one of Lily’s best friends sleeping over for the night. PERFECT! That’ll teach yer, yer pesky parents!

Seriously folks, five nights is a cause for celebration in this house!

In other baby news, did you know that it takes Noah roughly 10 seconds to steal the "helpme" (torch) from his sister, even though she is waving it from side to side and screeching at the top of her lungs, and when you need two hands to push - pull the tape measure in and out of its casing, your mouth is a handy place to hold your father’s mobile phone, so that your brother won’t take that too?

Hmmm, that’s about it for this week. Let’s see what mid August has to offer!

"Hartee" means hot tea. How cute! My little man is growing up!

Immy and Maddy did their first ever tap exam today. I don’t know who was more nervous, them or me. They have practiced hard though and Kelly believes they will do well. I know they will. They try so hard at everything they put their hand to. Knowing that didn’t stop the nerves though and everything seemed to be happening at once this morning.

The lady from FJ’s Dog Grooming came to clip Nelson and Missy (our two maltese terriers), there was hair and make up to be done for the exam and scrapbooking stuff to get ready for the school class this afternoon. My head was literally spinning! ( Imagine exorcist type spinning, with obligatory split pea soup ejecting from mouth). Add on top of this two overtired, cranky toddlers, who really, really want to get into the make up box and it was a sure fire recipe for disater! We couldn’t find a hair net.. a hair net people and I lost the plot entirely!(Imagine screaming banshee type image here). Oh I am so ashamed. Fancy ranting and raving over a hair net… calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean…breathe in and breathe out…

Anyway, we got there and the girls were great. I bought them a small box of chocolates and a lipgloss ( a very important accessory whe you are 11 years old) each. Partly because I was so proud of them and partly as an apology for my childishness. We won’t know the results for two weeks so I will have to keep you informed.

The babies are finally asleep, after having to keep them awake to go to the exam. I am feeling alot less stressed. I have had chocolate and hot tea, there is not a sign of any split pea soup around anywhere. There are only 36 days until we go away, the kids have informed me, or so they THINK they have informed me. Believe me I know. I started counting down way before they did!

We have had this book since Imogen and Madeline were babies. The cover has been ripped off several times, pages scrunched, bent, folded in half, partially torn, fully torn from the book. Pages lost and found again were lovingly repaired so that all could enjoy the story of The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Lately, Ivy and Noah have also been listening to this classic story…until today. Noah has attacked the book and I fear that it is beyond repair. The three big girls are VERY upset that their baby brother has gone to town on one of their favourites and are, as I type, trying to tape the shredded pages back together but I think I will have to retire said book. Maybe I will have to find one a little bit sturdier to get us through Noah’s toddler years.

There has been a thread on Belly Belly about songs that truly touch you. For me, music has always been connected to events of my life…there is a song for everything.

This song, Nickelback’s Far Away, for various reasons, touches me. I was just thinking about it last night on the way home from the scrapbooking class and oddly just before I hit the last bend towards home, it came on. Has that ever happened to you? You think it and it happens?

Anyway, I sat in the car and listened to it, beautiful, haunting, melancholy that it is and thought of William.

This time, This place
Misused, Mistakes
Too long

too late
Who was I to make you wait
Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there’s just one left
‘Cause you know, you know, you know

On my knees, I’ll ask
Last chance for one last dance
‘Cause with you, I’d withstand
All of Hell to hold your hand
I’d give it all
I’d give for us
Give anything, but I won’t give up
‘Cause you know, you know, you know

That I love you
I loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you’ll be with me
and you’d never go
Stop breathing if
I don’t see you anymore

Keep breathing
hold on to me, never let me go
Keep breathing
hold on to me, never let me go

We went to our paed today for a check up following the flu and every ENT infection known to man that attacked Ivy’s little body. He looked her over and declared her …’the best he’s EVER seen her’! Yay for Ivy and yay for the antibiotic. We are going to stay with the erythromycin for a few more days and then trial her off it. Fingers crossed in the immortal words of the ENT doctor.

David came with us this time and we sat for a long while in the car afterwards. It was like one long exhale. After some  delicious minestrone soup and crusty bread (David and babies, not me, don’t touch the stuff), we joked about placing bets on timing for the next illness. His bet was for just before we leave for Queensland, mine was a little more optomistic, with her going down at least a week before, so that we could get on top of it before we go! I know, we sound like freaks but such is life with Ivy. We might as well laugh when we can, so humour us, ok?

It was beautiful in the Hunter Valley today and this afternoon Ivy and Noah played outside in the sunshine. I discovered that it is not only my little girl who loves shoes but my little man too…and not your big clumpy sneaker or boot either. He is rather partial to a good patent leather shoe, thank you very much! It was with that information and an impromptu photo shoot that I went to  a scrap class with Jen Hall. Those of you who are into Scrapbooking will know her as one of The Masters and that she has a quirky eclectic style that I love.

We arrived late and were a bit rushed to catch up but I soon found my pace and got to complete a whole layout uninterrupted! I had a really great time and I hope I can do it again very soon. I got to look at some of her pages and OMG! I have so much to learn. Her layouts were absolutely amazing. I would love to be able to scrap with abandonment as she has. Her artistry shows no fear.

Ivy’s love of shoes continues. With age has come the ability to apply one’s own shoes…or in Ivy’s case, one of hers and one of Noah’s!!!

Why oh why are my baby making/carrying/birthing days over? I SO want another baby. I know, I hear you all gasping at the prospect. Don’t worry, I’m neutered.

Kelly came around today after we had gone walking, with the beautiful Lexie. Gorgeous little pudding pie!

Thought you might all like to see a photo of her. She is almost three months old now. Born by caesarean. Kelly went through so much to have this little cherub! Gorgeous, don’t you think?

I tried not to hold her…I did! I knew as soon as I touched that soft baby skin that my heart would skip a beat. Let’s face it, I am just one big mother hen, cluck cluck clucking my way through this life!

Ok, holiday update; As of today we are NOT going to Fiji. *SIGH* After some consideration we have decided that we will go to Queensland in the third week of September. While I am very disappointed in this I will make the most of it. Hope it’s warm up there because it’s bloody freezing here. We could all use some sun, fun and laughter right about now.

Happy Birthday to my dear friend Carolyn!!! Hope you had a wonderful day! The world is a better place with you in it.

you walk into the loungeroom from a toilet break to find ALL of the videos, scrapbooking magazines, books and DVDs pulled out and strewn around the floor and feel happy because it’s good to see the perpetrators laughing.

someone accidently leaves the toilet door open and you find your son in there amongst reems and reems of toilet paper that he has just spun off the roll AND he is tearing open another one while you run to get your camera, laughing all the while.

twin babies have a sword fight with the whisks from the second drawer down…how they broke through the baby lock is beyond me.

I love it when they smile!

The good news?

Ivy is getting better!!!

Yes, she is on the road to recovery. Finally.

It’s all because of my new love…Erythromycin. How can one little antibiotic be SO different from another?

Here are the good bits;

Normal temperature for 24 hours.

Nose is running clear!

Left ear is clearing up (with the help of hydrogen Peroxide and Ciproxin drops).

Cough is not so wet.

No vomiting antibiotic for over 24 hours.

The bad bits;

Upset tummy, bad diahrroea, still clingy and whingy when awake, still needing Panadol/Neurofen for pain almost 2nd hourly.

For the first time in over a week I am feeling more relaxed and happy. Even though Ivy was up for a large part of the night with tummy cramps, she is up and walking around this morning, playing and rummaging through things! YAY! I never thought I would celebrate the demolishing of my kitchen but here I am!

While Ivy has been  feverish, she has been obsessed with her shoes. She would wake with a high temp and cry ’shoeshoeshoesssss!’ Even when she was so ill she couldn’t stand upright, she would be snuggled into my lap, on the rocking chair, grizzling about her need for shoes.

Here is a photo I took of Ivy last Sunday, in the car, with a high temp, loving her shoes. Ivy has several pairs of shoes and each and every one of them has helped her through this last week gone. I hear the cry for her shoes in my sleep now.

Yesterday, Trish and her boys made the long trek up to see me. She braved the flu for me. She knew I was struggling and came to give me some company. I had a really nice day, what more could you want? Adult company, chocolate and hot tea. Ivy had woken in a good mood and was pottering around for the first half of the day. Even when she lost the plot and cried and grizzled for the whole afternoon, Trish still stood firm. She didn’t beg off, she didn’t cuss or roll her eyes because Ivy was sick, sad and demanding. She was there. Thank you Trish. You are a really special person!

On a final note this morning, I took this photo of My Noahry Boy, trying his hardest to be like Mum.

Here he is, on the kids computer happily typing away.

I wonder if he thinks he is blogging?