It’s just that I have my hands full at the moment. I never knew that one little girl could cry so much.

Bare with me.

She’s sick again.

Am I ashamed that I can’t keep my girl well? YES!

Do I hate having to call the paed on his week of parental leave? Yes, yes, ok yes.

Am I shattered every time she cries that sad, help me cry? Yes, oh Lord Yes.

I don’t know what to do for her anymore. What’s more is I don’t think anybody else does either.

It is so giving and encouraging.

For a socially inept person, like me, someone who is clumsy and not confident in a crowd, getting positive comments and feedback really boosts the morale and does alot for the self esteem.

This week I have been gifted with four awards.

The first two are from the amazing Michelle at In The Life Of A Child. Michelle is having a terrible time of it at the moment with illness and trips to the emergency room, so I thank her from the bottom of my heart for thinking of me.

I have to give the friendship award to Trish at My Little Drummer Boys and Tracey at Why Bother because they have always been there for me but I also want to give it to my XBox man. His blog is a great read. It is a threadbare look at a male’s journey into trying to conceive. It is often funny, sometimes heartbreaking but always honest.

I am giving it to Veronica at Sleepless nights even though she has already been awarded this,she’ll just have a double up! I’m going to give it to Kim at Frog Ponds Rock too.

Both Veronica and Kim always find the time to comment on my posts.

The Christmas Spirit award easily goes to Kelley at Magneto Bold Too and to MamaLee at Full Plate.

Note: This award is a little different… It’s actually a flash movie, so click here to get the code so you can post the award on your blog and pass it on.

Thankyou ladies for keeping the season merry and bright!

Speaking of Kelley at Magneto Bold Too.  she has been very busy.

It is a new award that she and her daughter created, called the <3 . You can read all about it here.

If you haven’t been over to Kelley’s blog yet - GO! What are you waiting for? I’m sure she is the only blogger you will ever meet who dresses up like a Ninja for her readers!

I am awarding this to Kate from Picklebums, Karen from Pediascribe, Michelle from In the life of a child, and Jennifer from Playgroups are no place for children  I love all of these blogs for different reasons.

Just tonight I received this award from Veronica at Sleepless Nights.

Veronica is amazing! A wonderful blogger and a brilliant Mummy to her revolution leader baby Amy.

I would like to give this award to Mrs Chicken from Chicken and Cheese. Her posts are a wealth of emotions, another who blogs with her heart on her sleeve and also to Laura at Adventures in Juggling. I love reading about the rich tapestry of her life.

Thank you to all of you. It’s so nice to feel loved!

Here we are at the end of another week! Thanks to Sarcastic Mom, I get to show off some more of my favourite photos. Over the course of the last week, I managed to shoot off over 300 photos and it was hard to pick out only a few…

David gave me these gorgeous Birthing Day flowers on Ivy and Noah’s birthday.

Ivy and Noah’s birthday cake - Dorothy the Dinosaur. Did I really make that? Noah indulged in his favourite thing on his party day… CHOCOLATE!

We went to a birthday party yesterday for identical twin girls, Chloe and Nicola, who were born a week after Ivy and Noah. We all spent time in the NICU together. Noah loved the sandpit and Ivy loved the plastic beads. My little bling baby. I love her hat. She reminds me of a little vintage dolly.

2am

wifey to hubby;

W: "Have you seen Ivy’s dummy"? (Searching frantically in and around bed)

H: "Wah"? (half waking from man sleep ie; not waking at all) "It’ll be around somewhere"…

Yeah thanks for that.

5am

Wifey sits up from restless dozing with Ivy, something lumpy growing from her back…

H: Peels thing from wife’s back and cries triumphantly: "I found the dummy"!

W: Sizes up dummy… "I ain’t no princess"!

********************************************************

At breakfast;

H: "Don’t pinch me there, I’m manstruating, you know"!

W: "I am so blogging that"!

**********************************************************

Why is it that dogs wait until you have visitors and everything is quiet before they break wind with the most putred post No Frills dog food smell and why do the kids all snigger uncontrolably and then blame the parents?

I can’t stand it.

She’s not allowed to move into that next stage.

I feel… old.

Last night she was in tears because the dress we bought for her to wear to the year six farewell, two months ago, no longer fit her. Her body has changed. She is not overweight, in fact she is just right for her height but because all her friends are small, because her twin sister is too, she feels out of place, frumpy, fat.

I know how she feels. Although I was overweight amongst my peers and the brunt of everyone’s joke, the feelings of hurt are the same.

That feeling of not quite fitting in, that thorn amongst the roses feeling. *SIGH* I so didn’t want that for my girls. I wanted… well, I wanted conformity. I wanted them to blend in. I wanted them to have beauty, grace, a great fashion sense. I wanted what I lacked in the school environment for my girls.Not so much popularity… oh, ok, I wanted that too. ALL the things I never had.

Today my Mum took Imogen to the shops and she picked, for herself, a new dress. The sales people were lovely and Imogen’s self esteem flourished under so many people telling her she looked beautiful.

Of course, I know she is gorgeous but she is at that terrible stage when all that little girl confidence just flies away, leaving in it’s wake the insecurities of adolescence.

While she was shopping I started thinking about whether it was so terrible to stand out from the crowd. She has a wonderful nature, my Immy. Wise beyond her years. That in itself is beautiful.

As a pre teen, being different sucks. It does but looking on it as an adult, was I really that different and is she?

Why are children so horrible to other children? Why pick and tease and make their peers feel small and insignificant?

Probably because they feel the same way; Are the same.

Is it a learned thing, something that they see their parents do? Or something that is just part of the make up of some kids?

Anyway, I’m getting away from myself.

She bought a dress. She looks beautiful and she feels beautiful too.

I just want to make it an easy transition, if I can’t stop this hurtling into the teenage years…is that too much to ask?

A big thank you to all my new friends out there in the Aussie Community.

This idea originally came from Sue.

Stay tuned for the International linky love Christmas (coming to a blog near you).

T’was the night before Christmas,

And all through the house,

You could hear the blogger typing and clicking her mouse.

She wanted to sho - ow how much she did care,

So she sent linky love into the blo - og - esphere.

There is Trish and Tracey, who give her new life,

Mountainmama and Kelley (who is always in strife)!

She loves to read Kim and  Ka - ate and Joh,

Three Aussie chi - icks who go with the flow.

Me - eg and Snoskred have taught her so much,

Abou - out Community and keeping in touch.

Cellobella and Karen, Leigh and Megan too,

Their writing lifts you u - up when yo - ou are blue.

Veronica, with Amy has slee - eepless nights,

A ki - indred spirit in sleep deprived writes.

Mad Goat Lady and Kate and their animal friends,

Kee - eeps this mum from going around the bend.

Andrew and Kim are grea - eat new reads,

Julia has two blogs that fill my prem baby needs.

Thank you Aussie blog friends, may you season be bright,

Happy Christmas to all and to all a blog filled night!

I told them that any that were put at toddler height would be swiftly devoured by small, ravenous beasts. I did.

What I didn’t tell them was that Naughties children are smart…way smart and that if they cannot reach the object of their desire they will find other ways.

Like… lie underneath the Christmas tree and shake the trunk until the candy canes rain down in a mass of fake pine needles and peppermint filled deliciousness and eat the lot while their mother is making dinner, leaving only traces of the sticky red goo on hands and little faces.

No, I didn’t tell them that.

View more Wordless Wednesday here.

This is also part of the prompt for December at Wrapped Emotions

Don’t get me wrong, there were some good times. Periods in my life when I remember him as a good father.

He was a wanderer.

My mother did the best she could as an almost single parent. Their marriage ended when my brother died. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He was already having an affair, had been for years, it seems, with the company’s accountant and was in Europe with her when my brother died. He didn’t come home for the funeral.

I wouldn’t have divorced him, I would have killed him.

He changed the day I introduced him to his newborn grandaughters. Mellowed.

Became a Grandfather.

Don’t get me wrong, he was not reformed. He still hurt me, only in different ways.

With the children though he was a different man, someone who I came to admire. He adored them all, especially the boys. He was there when William died, almost cried.

On June 26th 2005 (Lily’s birthday) we told him we were eight weeks pregnant with twins. He told us he had been diagnosed with bowel cancer.

I knew when he told us there was a secondary in the liver that he didn’t have much time but he went through treatment after treatment and surgery too. Anything to preserve his life on this earth, all be it with little quality. He was just waiting to meet the babies.

In the days leading up to his death we spent time with him and he spoke in earnest about his estate and how it would be. He said we could trust her, the Evil Step Mother (ESM). Also known as the Wicked Witch of the West.

He was wrong, he was wrong about so much.

He wanted the boys to be looked after. He had divided the estate accordingly but not until the ESM had died too.

Now she wants me to sign that away. She wants me to say that he wanted her to have everything.

His will makes it so that she can have it. All of it, despite his constant reassurances and pleas that the children be looked after.

If I sign the forms she will take his estate and change her will and the boys (and my family too) will get nothing.

My Mum and my Aunties are up in arms, urging me to fight it all the way.

David says we are not in a position to fight, that we need to protect ourselves. She is, after all the evil step mother, with my father’s money to throw around.

I want to fight, I do but I don’t want to jepodise my family. It’s so complicated.

I am sad, disheartened that my father would allow this woman to do this. I am pressured, feeling as though I am some pawn in a game of hate. I am angry that after all my father did to me, to my family, to my mother, after all he trumpeted about caring for those of us left behind, it seems now that his intent was a false one…again.

A mask to make everyone believe he was a good man.

We had a storm. There was thunder and scary blue lightening.

The lightening blew up my phone line. It blew up my modem and it melted the insides of my laptop, and my computer.

Lucky for me I posted my last November post early and lucky for me my husband is a computer nerd. What? It’s true.

This evening I have the internet back and my blog and my comments (of which I crave for I have very little adult company and as much as I love them, listening to the gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) babbling of the toddlers, is not adult conversation).

I have my lovely winged monkeyboy (Fly my pretty, fly. Bring back the girl and her little dog too) slave husband to thank for saving my sanity.

Briefly;

The party was a success, even though it was pouring with rain. Ivy and Noah had a great time.

They got lots of bootie (thank you every one).

I’m glad it’s over. I’m so tired.

We are currently putting up our Christmas tree.

Bring it on!

At two Noah can:

Speak up to six word sentences.

Run.

Jump.

Dance.

Feed himself with a spoon (this is a very messy affair though).

Take his own nappy off (and his sister’s).

Tease his sisters ( a pre requisite for being male and having sisters, I think).

Climb into his own bed.

Draw (scribble).

Release himself from the confines of the house by unlocking the front door. (don’t worry, we’ve installed bolts now).

Likes;

Sleep.

Has a distinct penchant for plastic jewellery, dresses and pink handbags.

Books and having them read to him. Actually, seems to obsess over one book for days at a time. Prefers his reading experience this way.

Trucks, cars and particularly diggers.

To kick a ball and splash in the paddle pool.

Loves;

Chocolate.

Noodles.

His teddy.

The Wiggles.

Hugs and kisses.

Doesn’t enjoy;

Vegetables.

Sharing a room with his sister.

Not getting his own way.

Shopping.

Sitting for too long.

At two Ivy can;

Talk in two and sometimes three word sentences.

Feed herself with a spoon without making much mess.

Dance, dance and dance some more.

Run.

Jump.

Take off her own nappy (and her brother’s).

Draw (scribble… on paper, walls and herself).

Have womanly mood swings.

Likes;

Bok bok (her chicken)

Climbing.

Playing in water.

Dirt and getting dirty, making mud pies and playing in anything that is gooey, squishy or tactile in any way.

Loves;

Hi - 5

Any form of jewellery.

Helping her Daddy get dressed in the morning (shoes).

Having a make - up session with her sisters.

Rice cakes.

Doesn’t enjoy;

Sitting still.

Meat.

Sleeping.

My little guy is amazing, social, easy going, talkative, has a gorgeous dimpled smile and a wicked sense of humour, loves routine, kisses and cuddles. He lights up my life with laughter and joy. He is my second chance and I love all that he gifts to me.

My little girl is petite, beautiful and strong. She is a complexity of character, socially shy, yet cheeky and free spirited with those she is comfortable with. She has stolen the hearts of many. She is the full stop at the end of a very long chapter in my life. I’m glad that it was her. She completes me.

Here is Ivy and Noah’s birth story. Written about five months after their birth.

Here is a little movie montage for anyone who has five minutes.

Tomorrow for all those with a love of all things Ivy and Noah there will be another one.

I’m so sorry and I really do thank you for your patience when it takes ages to load.

We can’t work out why. I’m not really sure what to do about it, other than take all of my bits and pieces off, including my beloved blogroll and stop posting photos. *SIGH*

Now I am going to tax it some more by using You Tube.

Apologies in advance.

20 weeks in utero

Newborn

1 year old

2 years old on Friday

View more Wordless Wednesday here.

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).

Those who have been reading my blog for a while will know that when our paed calls us before 6pm, when you’ve called at office opening, it’s a big thing.

Over the course of the weekend her nappy area had turned into one big blister, those blisters had popped and the skin sloughed away. She was sick and miserable but had come good on the return of her trusty Erythromycin.

The good doctor said hospital and I argued.

Because she was ok.

Because she was happy.

Because it’s her birthday for goodness sake and who wants to spend their birthday with a drip in their arm?

Not to mention the party and the guests. What do I tell them?

He called back three times, so I took her in.

When we arrived, no one knew we were coming. The nurses were at their bitchiest and sent me to admissions, claiming they would not touch her until they had the paperwork. So I went to admissions who knew nothing of us either and sent us away until they could contact the paed…whose office was closed until 1 pm.

I arrived at 11am. It took me an hour to find a parking spot, people. An hour.

Anyway we went back down to the ward and the nurse boogieman sat us in a corner and said she would not do one thing until we were admitted properly and then whined about how inappropriate it all was.

I just wanted to go.

The doctors came and checked her out, the paed came, the dermatologists came. They all had differing opinions but none of them involved IV antibiotics. At 6:30 pm they let us go. They couldn’t say what the blisters were so they gave us antibacterial cream, anti fungal cream and a barrier cream in case it was contact dermatitis. UGH.

At least we are home. Ivy is tucked up in bed and after a very eventful day that had nothing to do with organising a birthday party, I think I am going to bed too.

Just wanted to say thank you to Mary, who helped to juggle the day, I would have struggled without you.

The days are so busy that by the time I fall into bed, I am exhausted.

Insomnia came to visit me when William died. Not at first, not in those first few, grief stricken months, when my body screamed "ENOUGH"! and shut itself down into blessed, dreamless sleep. It crept in slowly, with the nightmares and over the years has come for repeat visits like an unwanted relative, who doesn’t know when they have worn out their welcome.

Maybe I had too much coffee yesterday. Maybe but I don’t think so.

I went to bed at 10:30 and Ivy woke at 11:03 and for some reason I could not find sleep again. Even though it found Ivy at around 2am, it didn’t allow me the same courtesy. This (early) morning, sleep is not my friend. I spit in it’s general direction. It has forsaken me. Left my mind to run wild and my body to crave it like some illegal substance.

This wasn’t supposed to happen until I was old. Insomnia, isn’t it the disease of the aging?

Here I sit in the dark with my new constant companion, Laptop.  I’ve read the comments of my bloggy friends and sent a few off. I’ve pondered why my dogs are scratching themselves like mad when they were only bathed in flea shampoo and treated with Frontline yesterday. I’ve listened to the sounds of the sleep filled house and I have wished I were there, in sweet oblivious sleep.

I am going to pay for this come daybreak.

This has been on my wish list for a while. I love it. I want it. I need it.

Today we set about trying to find someone in Australia, ‘the lucky country’, who sells them.

Not so lucky, it seems. Nobody does.

Gutted am I. No toddler B - double for me.

There are still four days to go, five until their party.

I’m not ready! I’m not ready! I’m not ready!

It’ll be okay. It will all come together. It always does.

You’re disorganised for a reason. It’s because you’re not ready for this, for them to turn two. For them to lose their baby faces, their chubby baby arms.

Why didn’t I feel this way when they were one?

It was such a whirlwind year, it literally was a blur. Do you actually remember their birthday last year?

I was definately more organised.

You need to see this for what it is. The end of your baby making. Never to have that squirming life within you, never to breathe in that earthiness of your newborn, look into their eyes for the first time. It is the end of a right of passage.

There is so much to do, to get ready. I haven’t wrapped presents, haven’t done party shopping, haven’t done anything much, just sat and watched them play, listened to them talking, babbling to one another, me.

You’ll be okay, you’ll get through this. It hurts, oh I know it does but there will be new passages to cross, new stages to take your mind away from losing your babies to the ever moving circle of life.

It only seems like yesterday that we welcomed them into our lives.

Yes but now it is time to move forward, enjoy the here and now.

Okay. Tomorrow. I will start fresh tomorrow. Tonight, I need to remember their tiny little fingers wrapped around my one clumsy pointer and my heart. I need to remember the journey we travelled to get to this point. Is that alright? Just one more night to think of them as my babies? Then I will throw myself head on into toddlerhood… and making cakes.

This is part of a new bloggy theme, started by Sarcastic Mom.

Here are some of my favourite photos for this week;

 Ivy and Noah 23 and 3/4 months old

 Sisters

Spring in the Hunter Valley

Naturegirl and Shrekboy

A stack of kids!

Silent Night (Ode to Ivy).

Silent night, yeah right!

Mummy’s not calm,

Daddy has spite.

Round the clock the female child,

Wakes the household, the parents are wild!

Sleep, for the love of God, Slee -eep

Slee - eep, try counting some sheep!