Ivy and Noah were born on the 30th of November 2005. (Two hours shy of the 1st of December).
Our caesarean was originally booked for the 23rd of December and their estimated date of delivery was the 12th of February.
They were born at 30 weeks gestation.
On this day the Feast of Saint Andrew is celebrated. Interestingly the first day of advent.
Our good doctor’s name was Andrew. (Coincidence, fate oR just plain creepy, you decide).
When I was pregnant with the first set of twins, it was after a struggle with three years of infertility.
When I was pregnant with the second set of twins, it was after the loss of our son. The struggle of grief and guilt.
When I was pregnant with my first set of twins, I didn’t have a day of morning sickness.
When I was pregnant with my second set, I was sick every day until they were born. Morning, noon and night.
When I was pregnant with set number one I took everything, after the first twelve weeks, for granted.
With the second set, every day was a gift.
Pregnancy with Imogen and Madeline was innocent and new - that first flutter, kick, roll. The smells, cravings and body changes.
Pregnancy with Ivy and Noah was scary. I did not take the time to enjoy and appreciate all those blessings.
When I was pregnant with my first set of twins, I was young and niave.
With the second set, I felt old and jaded.
When I was pregnant with Imogen and Madeline, I didn’t know the sex of my babies until they were born. The ultrasound was a fairly new diagnostic tool.
When I was pregnant with Ivy and Noah, I not only knew that I was carrying a boy and a girl, I had 3D ultrasonic photos of their…um…private parts.
The first twins’ ultrasound, David almost fell off his chair and remained silent and pale for hours.
The second twins’ ultrasound was…almost identical (with the exception that David did not enquire if the second embryo floating on the screen was a fault in the machine).
With the first set of twins, I was ‘over it’ by the time I was 28 weeks.
With the second set, I was grateful to make it to 28 weeks.
But with both, as with all the others, above everything else, I was just happy to achieve pregnancy.
Now that I can’t have any more babies, I long for pregnancy even more.
This entry is part of the Crazy Hip Blog Mamas Collaboration.
Hi!
Come in, come in! Don’t be shy!
Grab a chair and a coffee, grab a biscuit or some chocolate if you like, go on, help yourself. There’s plenty to go around.
First time here? Yes, I know there are alot of them, aren’t there? Yes, it’s always busy, sometimes chaotic but each and every one of them is special, just as they are.
What’s that you ask? What are the best things about their ages? Do I like one stage better than another?
Is there an age that isn’t a good age? All have their challenges, that’s true but every year a child is on the earth is a miracle in itself. There is good in turning another year older, for the child and for the parents.
Which age should I talk about? I could really go on forever but I know you’re only here for a little while.
The eleven year olds, who you can enjoy a long conversation with? The kids who are changing before your very eyes from little ones into teenagers, reminding you how life is ever moving. Watching them grow is an amazing honour.
Perhaps I should talk about how nice it is to have nine year olds. A time when life is full of adventure and discovery and imagination. When friends are important but a snuggle in bed with Mum and Dad in the morning is still the most treasured thing. For everyone. When dolls are just as cool as an MP3 player. When toilet humour is the funniest thing you have ever heard. They really make me smile.
Or maybe I could tell you all the great things about having twins just shy of turning two. You’d like that? Okay.
I think though you should know a bit about their past, just so you know how far they’ve come.
They were born at thirty weeks. So, about ten weeks early. They were sick in the NICU for a while with breathing problems and your run of the mill premmie issues. We brought them home just before they were due.
For a long time they didn’t do much, so we had to take them to an early intervention centre to encourage them to roll and sit and stand. I think from about the time they were fifteen months, they just sort of took off.
So here they are. They turn two next month. They are smart and funny and cute. I love that they stumble in at dawn for a cuddle. That David and I are their whole world. It’s amazing how fluent their words have become, how in just two years, they have learnt to speak in sentences. The things they say make me laugh, in a way I haven’t in a while. When they say cute things, it kind of makes me tingly all over.
It’s a great age, don’t you think? When everything is wonderous and special. It makes you look at the world with a new perspective. They find joy in the smallest things. A bird in the tree, singing, a ladybug on a leaf. Paddling in water and turning it into mud and then stomping in it so hard it splashes up onto their face!
They really love life, enjoy it to the fullest. It’s so refreshing.
I love watching their personalities evolving.
I know the little man is social and easy going. He gets tired easily and loves his snuggles. He’s a routine junky and if it is different than
the norm, he doesn’t cope well.He’s a bit of a charmer with the ladies, you know. He flashes those big dimples and you’re all his. You can’t help but love him.
I’ve figured out that the little girl is shy with new people. She needs time to work you out but once she has, she is loyal to the end. I know too that she is serious and a thinker but that she also has a cheeky side. She is spirited and hardly stops for anything, she moves all day, there are very few quiet moments for her, except when she is sick.
They both have a bit of mischief in them but then, I guess that is part of being two, don’t you think?
What else is good about this age?
They understand what you are talking about, can follow direction. That’s pretty cool…and it’s cute as well.
My two are really into books, well, the boy is and the girl likes to chew on them, so she’s interested but in a different way! Oh, and they are starting to have favourite things like Dorothy the Dinosaur from The Wiggles. It’s so adorable, it makes my heart melt.
I am really enjoying this age.
Yes, they are my last babies, so you are probably right, I don’t want to forget a thing but; you know what? Watching them also reminds me of the others at that age. It makes me wonder about what their future is going to be like. Watching the twins at this stage reminds me of how much I love the others too, how much I have enjoyed their journey as well.
How old did you say your little person is? I’d love to hear all about your favourite things about their age. Have you got time for another cuppa?
This post was written as part of Mamablogga’s Group Writing Project for October. Why don’t you give it a try?
Courtesy of Ivy, consumer of all (supposedly) inedible products.
*Disclaimer: I have older kids who have repeatedly been told to put their small things away. These have been confiscated, thrown away and/or donated to goodwill shops. I am as vigilant as a mother can be but the girl still manages to swallow things.
* Tinselpoo (festive Christmas edition 2006, self explanatory).
* Easter egg tinfoil poo (I can only assume that there was a secret stash of chocolate eggs involved)
* Scrapbooking metal letter "F" poo (don’t ask. I don’t know how it got in her mouth or how she managed to swallow it without injury or how it worked its way through her system).
* Tamagotchi battery poo (see above disclaimer).
* 1 Barbie handbag and 1 Barbie shoe poo (colour co - ordinated, at least…pink and brown go well together, don’t they?).
* Azure blue wishing stone x 1 poo… followed by…
* Azure blue wishing stones x 5 (!!!!!!) poo (David almost passed out when he saw that one).
I had no idea where the stones were coming from until I followed her into her sister’s room one day to find a small vase full of them. She was getting up onto a toybox and helping herself to what, I can only imagine, she thought were lollies, from the tall boy! (Quickly taken away and thrown out).
* Littlest Pet Shop bottle (please refer to disclaimer again).
* Moth poo (after a day in the backyard. This surprise also included a couple of other insects which were not identifiable due to their chewed up nature. Yuck).
* Birthday candle poo (following my birthday, stolen from the dish drying rack. One blue and one red).
There have been others but those are the most memorable. I have never had a child who ate so many weird things before. I thought she was slowing down/growing up/losing interest after the moth incident. We went a few weeks where there was nothing but…well…poo in her nappies, however, after the birthday candle poo I am thinking she was just giving her tummy time to settle after eating bugs. *SIGH*
A friend phoned me last night. She asked me if I imagined my life would be like this, when I met David, when I was 17. She asked me if I ever imagined I would have so many children. The simple answer to that is; no.
I knew that I wanted kids from a young age. When we talked about children, David wanted two and I wanted four. The only thing we could agree on was that we wanted an even number of children so nobody was left out. I certainly didn’t think about the logistics of being a mum.
So what is Motherhood to me?
It’s all those things that everyone said it would be, it’s sacrifice, it’s full on, it’s the hardest job I have ever done. It’s wonderous and amazing and brings me so much happiness. It’s love and contentment and brings a fullness to each and every day in mind, body and soul.
Mostly though motherhood is about learning.
As a mum, you are always teaching life skills but as a mum, I am also the perpetual student. I learn new things every day. About myself, about my children and I am still learning life skills!
When I first became a mum to twins, Imogen and Madeline, they taught me about selflessness, about the big picture. They taught me about patience (It took three years to conceive them) and understanding. I think they also taught me about time management and the importance of boundaries. On a funny note, they also taught me never to carry two babies upstairs, naked, when they have gastro…very messy!
Lily came into my life (about 9 months after the above bout of gastro). Lily taught me to really enjoy motherhood. She taught me to appreciate all the little things. When Lily came into my life, my father told me I was stupid for having more children, that I should be concentrating on a career, a house and having all the finer things in life. It was Lily’s birth that gave me the strength to stand up to him, tell him that family was more important to me than anything else. Although she was a surprise, she was a Godsend.
AJ and Malachy came into our home when they were four and three. I am not their biological mother but they are still my children. Through the boys I know about compromise. I know about overcoming terrible situations, adaptation, about hanging in there when you want to give up. I know about a longing to protect and a different kind of love, one that I have sometimes had to work at but one that is very much alive.
Four years after Lily, our first son, William, was born and died five days later. From Will I learnt about absolute devastation, a love that is so strong that I can still feel its presence every day. I learnt the beauty of letting go, I learnt to find and rely on my mother strength and I learnt that I could keep going, fuelled by the love of my children.
My last set of twins, Ivy and Noah, were born at 30 weeks in 2005 about a year and a half after William’s death and after a very scary pregnancy but it is with these children, my last, that I have learnt some of the most valuable lessons. As a mother to these precious miracles I have learnt to hope. Over the last twenty one months, they have taught me to feel joyous about motherhood again, at times when I felt there was no joy left in me. I have realised that I am a mother first and foremost and that, even though it can be a difficult, exhausting, sometimes thankless job, motherhood means everything to me.
It’s my life.
Oh, and I also learnt to appreciate my own mother much more than I ever did as a child.
This topic was published as part of MamaBlogga’s Group Writing Project. The theme is motherhood. It’s my first attempt.
Why don’t you give it a go?
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?
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.
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.
*** 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!
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?
David’s flu has been passed on to Ivy and Noah and Imogen.
Yesterday Ivy had a very scary febrile convulsion and my acopia reared it’s ugly head. The paed (with his great plan) went home and was ‘uncontactable’ (is that a word?) according to his receptionist.
So we went to the local hospital. I only have two words to explain the experience…NEVER AGAIN.
When Ivy decided it was a good time to fit, it was about 3:10pm. The kids were on their way home, via bus and Mal was coming home via his bus and was not due until 4:30pm.
It’s amazing when something freaky happens how nurses just go into nurse mode. I stayed calm (I surprised myself), waited it out, stripped her down, wiped her down with a warm washer and when I got her temp from 40.2 to 39.5 I phoned David…and lost the plot entirely. Noah was an absolute angel while all of this was going on (bless his cotton socks). David called the paed’s rooms (the second for the day) then the hospital and I called Mum, who made the hours drive out to our house and arrived just as Mal came home. By that time, Ivy’s temp was 38.4 and she was alert again. I grappled with a trip up to the hospital but in the end (after David phoned them and asked the triage nurse if it were necessary) decided I had better get it checked out, so almost two hours after the event I found myself in A&E.
Of course there was nothing they could do (aside from give us another course of antibiotics - her ears and tonsils were infected) and the nurses were very kind but they treated me like some kind of white trash idiot, who knew nothing. (Maybe they know something I don’t…hmmm).
This morning both Ivy and Noah are alot better (although still not up to their usual standards of mischief). Immy is still in bed nursing a sore head and asthma.
Here is a favourite saying of my Mum’s,
Yesterday is gone…forget it!
Tomorrow never comes…don’t worry about it!
Today is here…Live it!
Oh, i’ll be living it alright. I’ll be living it in the laundry catching up on a day’s worth of lost washing time!!!
Electrophobia: The fear of electricity or in Noah’s case, the fear of electrical appliances.
To date, Noah is afraid of;
The vacuum cleaner,
The mix master,
The blow heater,
The hair dryer,
The blower vac and
The lawn mower.
When any of these machines whir into action, Noah cries and runs to me. He clings to me tightly and shakes. His heart palpates way above his normal rate and his eyes dart around the room, looking for the dangerous noise maker.
I’m not kidding. He is petrified.
We have tried all manner of things to settle his fears but so far 
none have worked. I’m hoping that he will grow out of it. No good woman will want to know him if his phobias take him into adulthood!
If Noah doesn’t grow out of his electrophobia he won’t be able to;
clean the house,
puree up the baby food
or do any of the lawn duties…
I know HE may think that is heaven on a stick but his wife won’t! Trust me on that one!
Scattered around this entry are the photos that I put forward for the Jeans for Genes competition, run by Huggies. Do you like them? The gorgeous jumpers that they are wearing are made by an Australian designer Oobi. I found them at a gorgeous internet boutique minifashionista
David is still sick with the flu. His lowest temperature today was 37.7 degrees. He was going to 
go to work but I reasoned with his sense of responsibility. I asked him to consider all the men with newborn babies and the men with children whose health was already compromised. He agreed. As it is, someone from his work infected him and inturn he has infected Ivy and Noah (going downhill rapidly this evening) and Immy and Maddy are feeling unwell tonight too. He called into the office to say he wasn’t going to be in, only to be answered by a stuffed up, gooey, male voice, who professed to also have the flu!
Boys, what are you doing? If you are sick, stay at home! Stop the cycle! Forget about your male work ethic for just a minute and consider the children (and the mother’s who have to look after them) when you cough all over a man who is also a father!!! ARRRRRGH!
David says he is going in tomorrow, no matter how lousy he feels. *SIGH* Have I not taught that man anything?
Oh, just to have one night without a baby in my bed! It would probably feel weird, actually. Last night was the first night that Noah slept through, since his last bout of illness. In absolute contrast to him was his sister and my resident teddy bear, Ivy Hazel. Last night, I went to bed at 11pm after thinking that I had settled Ivy post 4 hour sleep cycle tanty. Ha ha, what on earth was I thinking? Half an hour later I found that child back in my bed. She proceeded to knock around the bed in its entirety. David, who has come down with a severe flu, was shivering with rigor next to me, in a male, comatose, kind of way (only women will know what I am talking about, males who read this will deny that they can sleep this way at all). So he was unaware of the tumbleweed daughter between us. At 3am, I had had enough so I put her in her cot and shut the door. For the next half hour she stood wailing ‘doordoordoor’ I tried all the tricks but nothing was dampening the door baby down. In the end I took her back to bed, where she slept for an hour before waking up for the day. It’s been a while since that girl has done an all nighter and boy, did I feel it this morning! (Notice the VERY dark circles under Ivy’s and my eyes in photos provided as evidence).
I guess we have always had babies in the bed, except for a brief interlude, Immy and Maddy, although excellent night sleepers, would come in at around 5am until they were about six or seven for a cuddle and Lily was an early morning ‘ I’ve had a bad dream, can I snuggle with you.’ kinda girl. You’d 
think that having Ivy (and occasionally Noah) in the bed would be no big deal and it isn’t - if we can both (all) sleep. It’s just that Ivy DOESN’T. She thinks my bed is a party and she’s the only one invited! For those of you concerned about David’s sleep, don’t be. He sleeps well, thank you very much. The only time his sleep is disturbed is if I kick him hard enough! (Joking people, he is a good man).
Yesterday I had my first ‘time out’ in ages. Mum and I went to the grand opening of my fave internet scrapbooking store Shop & Crop, going real life! Yep, a real shop! Although it was busy and crowded, I had a great time. I bought some goodies, ate some food, talked to people, bought more goodies and generally felt inspired to scrap - just what the doctor ordered. It was good because I came home to a very sick husband and you definately need happy things to draw on when you have one of those. (Thanks, 
Davey for letting me out for the afternoon AND for looking after the kids AND for putting dinner in the oven). While we were there we booked in for a class with Jennifer Hall ( a scrapbooking celebrity) in a couple of weeks time. So exciting!
While I have acknowledged that Noah’s play is very boy oriented, as in cars, cars and more cars I don’t know that I have waffled on much at all about Ivy’s play. I have to mention though her play with a dolly yesterday. Firstly, she cuddled and rocked the baby, then she stripped the baby off to change the nappy. When Maddy gave her a wipe, she knew EXACTLY what to do with it. She cleaned up baby’s bum, of course! Who says gender specific play is a learned thing? I think Ivy just naturally knew what to do with the doll. A very distinctive female instinct of nurturing. It is amazing to watch, especially having a boy/girl twin combination. Noah also cuddles the doll when it is given to him but soon loses interest and nappy changing and wiping bottoms - forget it!!!!!
Today I received some more fluffy mail from Jolmaz.
2 cute covers, some liners and 2 very cute doll nappies.
When David and I saw them we both came to the same conclusion at almost the same time. Those little nappies could have fit Ivy and Noah when they were born! The girls are totally in love with them. Thanks Maz!
Noah decides that he will say his first four word sentence.
Here it is… "I got the broom-broom". At the time he was holding up a toy car for my perusal. Oh the joys of having a boy.
Pegs are very versatile.
They can hang clothes up, they can keep things closed, they can be a form of security as in they can lock cage doors for birds who are doggedly pursued by small black fox terriers who see said bird as a light snack before dinner. Yes, pegs are many things.
In a toddler’s world, pegs are the best toys anyone can ever give you (or that you steal from your mother’s peg basket).
Ivy and Noah love pegs. There are a few rules to peg playing though and these must be adhered to, otherwise you are just not playing it in the right way and you will be punished.
The first rule is you must always play when Mum is busy trying to hang out clothes. You must (and this is a given otherwise you will encounter a swift clap over the head by the offended twin) tip the whole bucket up and onto the ground and then proceed to kick the pegs around in an outwards motion - to cover the most surface area.
The second rule is that you must then pretend that you want to 
help your mother pick up the scattered pegs, only to throw them further when the peg bucket is offered up to you. In this game, ‘ta’ doesn’t mean ‘thank you’, it actually means, ‘you’re joking, I wasn’t really going to give it to you!’
Rule three (and this would have to be one of my favourites) After your mother has picked up all the pegs, aquired the bucket and put it in what she believes to be a safe place, show her who is really the boss in this establishment and climb onto the table and start rule one again.
Rule four; take turns placing the bucket on each other’s heads and laugh enthusiastically at the results. This takes up a large portion of the game because toddlers always think they are the funniest things to walk the earth.
Rule five; when rule four gets old, shove every single peg through the umbrella hole onto the ground and laugh at this too.
When Mum gets cranky, repeat rule two (because that’s going to make it all better, isn’t it?) and when you get bored go and find something new to get into, preferably something that is going to rile Mum up more.
Seriously, it is the most fun you can have when you are twenty months old!
School holidays are coming to an end. We have had some lovely days with friends.
Notably, Sharon, Kate, Courtney and Jessabell, who we met through Belly Belly but it turns out the older girls all go to dance together. We had a nice day playing outside.
Also Mary and her boys Eoghan and Luke and her gorgeous girl, Gemma. A great day was had by everyone. AJ relished in the male company and I loved talking to Mary - she is amazing, interesting and funny. I am very much enjoying the blossoming of our friendship. Mary’s visit came the day after the whole trauma of the cinema and really lifted my spirits.
We missed seeing Trish and the boys these holidays and that was definately felt by everyone.
We missed seeing Tracey and Mollie. I’m pretty sure this was the first break when we haven’t had their company and that was pretty weird not having our long term friends around.
While the big kids spent alot of time with Grandma and Pop and Gran, Ivy, Noah and I only saw Grandma the once and Gran a couple of times over the two weeks. I guess we have kept a pretty low profile but I did miss their company.
Other friends who came to play;
Emma for Maddy - Emma came on the fateful Harry Potter day.
Nicole for Immy - came to visit on the last day of the holidays.
Friends are wonderful - they lift you up make you feel as though you are special!
Just quietly, we are hoping to take the kids away on a real vacation early in September. Dave and I are gunning for Fiji. Whether we can pull it off is another thing. So far nothing has gone right. A few months ago (try five) we made the move to The Greater in the hope of partially funding our holiday. We were told, five weeks and everything would be finalised. Almost half a year later and things are still not finished. We went to sign the final papers over the weekend, only to be fobbed off for another week. Talk about false advertising.
We’re not silly. We know that with seven children we will have to put in a large sum of money to get us anywhere. The only place the Greater points will get nine people is a caravan in Jinglemoney (Yes it IS a real place people - look it up!). Still we can use all the help we can get. I’ll keep you updated but hopefully by next weekend we will be on our way to planning a great break!
Wow, I thought I didn’t have much to blog about today. I guess I surprised myself.
On a final note I just wanted to put in a link to this blog. Having two sets of twins is great, amazing and different but imagine having Quintuplets! She’s currently 31 weeks and hoping to get to 34! Oh honey, I’m wishing you every luck.
In Noah language Beyope means open. I know that because he has followed me around all day begging me to ‘beyope’ an impulse bottle, ‘beyope’ the lid off the biscuit tin and ‘beyope’ the slow cooker lid so he could partake of the pumpkin soup.
He wants me to ‘beyope’ the door now so he can go outside into the freezing cold to play on the equipment. Better go and do it or I just might ‘beyope’ myself to a toddler tanty!
PS, the mark down Noah’s face is a bruise that he aquired this morning after I opened the impulse bottle and he thought he would make a fast get away from his sister (owner of Impulse) only to turn around and run into the corner of the buffet and hutch! OUCH!
There are words that I am hearing over and over. Words that are made up by Ivy and Noah but that I can understand. I want to write them down so I don’t forget…
‘Gubem‘ - this generally means I’m hungry and can see you eating and I’ll have whatever you’re having…NOW! Sometimes used as a happy noise as well.
‘Noonga Noonga’ is a Noah only word. It is a word that means I am angry and I want you to go away.
‘Na - Na’ used to be a word for food but now it is just used for morning and night bottles or if they want milk in the middle of the day. Just because they demand it, doesn’t mean they get it though.
"Y-eye Y-eye" is their word for put me in the swing and push me.
‘Barp’ I want to have a bath.
‘carcar’ self explanitory.
‘hankooo‘ means thankyou in Ivy’s world.
‘gullygullygully‘ means I have done something naughty and I am not telling you what it is. (Noah)
‘uppyuppyuppy‘ Ivy’s word for I would like a horsey ride please. (Giddy - up)
‘hmmm - may’ means help me (Noah)
‘prittypritty’ means I am beautiful, look at me. (Ivy)
‘barfly’ butterfly. (Ivy)
"arrarrarrarr’ means there is a dog barking outside or I can see a dog.
‘weeooh weeooh’ I am very tired but by making this sound I hope to keep myself awake. (Ivy - ism)
New words and phrases that everyone can understand that are commonly used in this house now are …
‘get down’! I wonder why they know how to say that?
‘door, close it’. Usually used when they have gotten into a cupboard and they see me coming.
‘get out’ Used in context of wanting to get out of the bath or in telling the dogs to go outside.
‘gotta go’ Started off as a Noah-ism but now both use it. Self explanitory.
‘joosh’ juice.
‘no’ self explanitory and said by both ALOT.
‘nigh - night’ goodnight.
Of course there are all the standard words like Mum (mymum as Noah says) Dad, bubba (what they often call each other and what they call any baby they see in real life or in photos, Immy, Maddy (marmar), Lily (liddleliddle), AJ and Mal. Hello, bye, hot (often used when they know they are not supposed to touch something, as in ‘don’t touch the fire it’s hot!’). Up with arms raised, down with bodies twisted in a downward motion. Shoes is a common one too.
I’m sure there are more.
We still use lots of Immy and Maddy words in our day to day living… ‘Squidge’ for vegemite, ‘mamitch’ for sandwich. Lily had some pearlers too…’snotrils’ for nostrils and ‘foot sleeves’ for pants. I want to remember all these little things. I need to hang onto them for when they are grown up.
We had a wonderful day on Sunday! We went to Samuel and Joel’s first birthday. It was lovely being around so many little ones. Sammy and Joel were all smiles all of the time. They took the people and presents in their stride. Gorgeous, happy little guys. I took my camera but I forgot the memory card so no photos for me just sweet memories. Ivy and Noah played on the outside equipment throughout the afternoon. Ivy didn’t stop for anything. David and I shovelled food into her mouth while she was climbing the slippery dip. Noah, bless his cotton socks, being male, could not master the playgym. He could climb up and get into the body of the colourful plastic but from there, he was stumped. Instead of trying to work it out, he head butted the sides and the front screeching ‘getttouuuuutttt!!!!!’ All the while Ivy was climbing the stairs, swinging from the bar, to the floor and through the exit over and over again, barely giving her brother a sideways glance.
We had to stop to give them both ventolin through the nebuliser a few hours in but otherwise we thought they did ok, asthmawise. After the croup went straight to an exacerbation of their asthma and we had been struggling to control the rattle and hum of our wheezy babies.
On the way home Ivy and Noah started to cough and wheeze and wheeze and cough. By the time we hit Pennant Hills, they could barely catch their breath. We entertained the idea of driving straight to the hospital but somewhere between the Berowra exit and Gosford, they fell asleep, hands above their heads, necks extended, rapidly grasping at each breath. I just wanted to get them home. I thought that if I could get them there, I could medicate them and get through until morning. SO we pushed on. By the morning and having nebbed them 2nd hourly I was exhausted and so was David. Ivy and Noah were largely better, having made it through the night. A little shakey from all the ventolin but better.
I was disturbed though and not taking the series of the nights events well at all. In a paediatric world this is known as ‘parent acopia’ The parent’s inability to cope with the situation. Often hospital admissions of children are made because of this, according to some. It got me thinking, where do we go if we feel that we can’t cope? I haven’t been in that situation for such a long time. Do we go to the closest hospital? Do we go to the hospital that our paed is attached to? Do we go at all? Because, when you get to 2nd hourly nebs, there’s not alot more a hospital can do for you. It really would be because I couldn’t handle the babies being sick anymore. Of course, I wouldn’t be silly. If Ivy or Noah were in trouble I would take them but hospital is a last resort in this house.
Parent acopia was very real for me on Sunday night. When I asked the paed today we made a plan. He said my problem wasn’t that I didn’t cope. It was that I coped too well. Essentially, he made it ok for me not to cope. He let me know that most parents wouldn’t cope with 4th hourly nebs, let alone 2. He made my acopia acceptable… for me. So now, if I get to Sunday night’s stage of complete and utter breakdown, I can go to his hospital and we will take it from there.
We have a plan and I like plans!
On Monday I met some lovely nurses. We introduced ourselves and our area of work. When I announced that I was a midwife the medical and surgical nurses all commented on how lucky I was and how easy my job was.
Ok, birth is a normal life experience and most women enjoy a healthy pregnancy, have a normal birth and are independent of cares during their postnatal period. Having said that, I don’t think midwives have an easy job at all. For a start in our position we are expected to have some medical and some surgical skills. We have to be ready to treat episodes as scary as eclamptic fitting and postpartum haemorrage right through to being able to prepare and take a lady to theatre for caesarean. Our position is not so much the physical as the emotional. We deal with mental health issues, people with developmental delay, we look after ladies from all walks of life with differeing expectations. We deal in new life and birth and an important right of passage but we also have to have knowledge and compassion for those who lose their babies and for those who lose their right to birth in a way that equals their expectations. Midwives work hard every day. We are lucky though. Lucky, that on a daily basis, we are invited into something as important as a baby’s birthday. That, for a few hours we have an insight into a woman’s life, her family, her very being. I think that we are so priviledged to be a part of something so beautiful. Midwives are the lucky nurses
Today we had Lily’s party. Her friends were well behaved, well mannered and lovely. Her party was completely opposite to Imogen and Madeline’s a fortnight ago. It was a joy to have
these girls in our home.The time went so quickly and I felt relaxed and happy. Lily had an absolute ball!
Twelve months ago my beautiful friend Trish was in hospital, waiting for her twin boys to be born. Everyone in this household was on tenderhooks, waiting for the message that Sam and Joel had arrived safely.
I met Trish through Belly Belly when I was looking for information on trying to conceive after losing a baby. We joined at almost the same time. There were a few of us. Bec, who had lost her daughter, Georgia, Kirsty, whose son Alex had died, Sarah and her angel Lachlan, Trish with her gorgeous Charlotte and me. We were all on the same journey at around the same time.
Trish and I became friends. When I found out she was pregnant, I cried my eyes out. When I discovered she was having twins I cried even harder. I was so happy for her.
Over the three years I have known her Trish has been there for me through everything. Through the grief of losing WIlliam, to the discovery that I was pregnant. Even though she was waiting to conceive, and her heart must have been aching for her Charlotte and wishing fro that elusive positive pregnancy test, she lifted my spirits as I worried myself senseless over Ivy and Noah’s pregnancy. She celebrated their birth and she has been there through every anniversary for Will, every scary moment with the babies, every happy and sad moment. She has been a true friend, so tonight on the eve of her babies’ first birthday I want to celebrate her!
Congratulations Trish! Hoping you have the happiest of birthing days and that tomorrow is filled with happiness, fond memories of Samuel and Joel’s birth and of new memories made.
Thank you for being the person that you are. You are an amazing woman and I am a better person for having met you. I wish you every happiness and dream come true!
This morning I got out of my nice warm bed when it was still dark and it WASN’T to get up to Ivy! (She was asleep in my bed already). I got up so that I could see Immy, Maddy 
and AJ off to Canberra and the Snowy Mountains for four days. They have not been away from home for that long and never with people other than grandparents. Sure, there have been a few friend sleepovers but that was only overnight. This trip is a big deal for all of us. I will miss them. I will have to trust that I have taught them right from wrong and that they will behave themselves for four long days. The house was already very quiet with three bodies missing. Lily, although gorgeous, is not the best communicator in the world. Either is Mal. Thank goodness there is Noah’s constant babble going on in the background or I would go completely mad.
I hope the kids have a good time. It is such a great expeience for them, especially to be able to see the snow. It gets cold in Ellalong but it never snows, the best our little country town has to offer up in the way of snow, is the black frost that hits us around July. It just doesn’t cut it, really. They have plans to build snow men and to have snowball fights. I hope the weather sees them coming and brews them up an adequate snow fall. If not, I guess there’s always the man made stuff.
I won’t be able to call them (no mobile phones allowed) and we have been told that public phone access is limited so I am guessing I won’t be hearing from them while they are away. I have hit the chocolate early this morning (terrible emotional eater that I am) to try to compensate, in fact I feel quite ill from all the white chocolate buttons that David has carelessly left sitting on the counter and I have just as carelessly eaten. 
He should know me better than that…hmmm…perhaps he does.
Ivy started her Augmentin Duo four days ago now and I *think* she is looking a little better today. What do you think? Aside from the red raw nose from all the tissue usage, I think she has a bit more colour in her face and, yes, even a sparkle in her eyes. Please let this be the end of her chronic infection.
I put Noah to bed for his morning sleep. I said ‘time for sleep Noah’. He said ‘no’. I said ‘yes, have a good sleep’ and walked away. He called out ‘No!’ and giggled to himself (obviously pleased that he had had the last say). He then proceeded to laugh himself senseless for half an hour, everytime he called out ‘No!’. Funny sense of humour, that little guy has. Eventually he fell asleep after calli
