Blessings of the Breast and Womb

Who Are You Little One?

2012-01-19T13:36:00.003+10:00

Oh how much I want to hold you!

More than one exclamation mark is grammatically incorrect, but I really wanted to type that above sentence with rows and rows and rows of them.

Pregnancy is so weird. Just bizarre. Sharing my body with my own family member who I have yet to meet? So odd!

I look at photos of myself taken when heavily pregnant the last two times, just days before I met Cass and then Eli, and I think to myself: 'How could you not know it was Cass/Eli in there?'

For almost as soon as the baby arrives, you think: 'Of course it was you all along!' and your family is changed! Transformed and never to be the same again, for there is a new intact human soul in your midst that will impact each one of you differently and profoundly. I will recite memories from the past in the weeks after a baby is born, accidentally inserting the baby into the memory because my mind finds it almost impossible that we ever existed without him/her!

And such a one is amongst us even now. Turning in my stomach, stretching it's limbs against my ribs even as I write this post. Making it's presence felt and all I can feel in return is: Who are you?

Little one. Tiny flesh of my flesh. We love you.

You belong, you belong, you belong, you belong.

For the Impending Arrival of a Tiny Bottom

2012-01-16T13:34:00.003+10:00

I have finished two of the big projects I wanted to work on this pregnancy!

The first is 20 little newborn fitted nappies.

Here they are.

And one being modeled by Cass' mouldy-looking Cabbage Patch doll.

These nappies are largely the products of my scrap bin. They are made from leftover bamboo hemp terry (for the absorbent middle) that I purchased and used to replace some inserts for cloth nappies for bigger bubs; as well as flannelette, and some t-shirt jersey cotton. The flannelette was left-overs from making pajamas and also cloth wipes for friends, and from bunny rugs I just have never used. I also scored a few small pieces in a sale for $3.50. Very nice.

So while they aren't technically free, they were darn cheap compared with the cost of purchasing like products new. The average newborn fitted cloth nappy retails for $15- the cost of each of these is a bit less than $2.50 each. They should last from birth to 6 weeks, or longer if this baby isn't as chubby as it's older siblings were.

I've never managed to put a baby that young in cloth before, as it has been difficult to work out a good solution for the many nappy changes a little baby needs, and then to keep up with all the folding. As there is no folding required for these and they will fit neatly under any outfit, there is a good chance that they will get some regular use.

The second project is the biggest knitting project I have completed to date! Many many hours went into it, and I hope it is something that gets a lot of love in return for the labour of love that went into it!

This baby blanket is as wonky as it looks. Apparently my knitting tension had changed somewhat in the months that I worked on it for.

Here is Eli lying on it so you can kind of guess how big it might be.

With some 10 or so weeks to go, I have a lot of projects left to get through- too many to complete- so I will have to use my time wisely.

My Big Hearted Baby

2012-01-10T07:43:00.005+10:00

She was carrying a large brick all the way across the yard to me. When she reached me I casually commented on her strength.

"I have a strong heart." she replied. "For love."

I thought it was such a charming thing to say, and very true as well.

This is Cass and her 'baby'. She has been nurturing this piece of dead wood for the past two weeks. I've had my fair share too, nursing the baby for her, holding it for her when she needs to go to the shops etc.

We've bonded.

A few nights ago I walked out onto our deck. Stephen was there and I asked him with alarm where the baby had gone.

"What baby?" he asked, clearly feeling his pregnant wife was losing it a bit.

"The baby! Cass' baby! It was right on the table." Then the light-bulb went on- Stephen had not yet met the baby. "Oh yes. It's a log."

"Oh. I threw that over the deck."

"What?? You threw the baby over the deck?" I had to run downstairs and find it before morning as when Cass puts her baby to bed she expects it to be there when she wakes it up in the morning for cuddles. As do most mothers.

In all honesty, I am glad she's found an outlet for her nurturing instincts, as Eli was not enjoying Cass' attempts to constantly baby him.

Nonetheless, he is a very loved little brother, as, I am sure, this next bub will be. They are lucky children to have such a kind older sister.

She is a kind daughter too.

This morning I was half sitting in the pantry sobbing. I assume mornings are the same for mothers everywhere, but the 20 or so balls I was juggling as usual had just come crashing down around me. I also had a lot of pent up emotions about some trauma and tragedy that has been hitting a family very dear to us that I had not managed to make time to face in the last few weeks of craziness I've been living. Plus, I'm pregnant. All reasons enough for a random cry in the pantry.

Anyway, I normally don't cry in front of ANYONE, much less my children, so I was struggling to get myself under control. Cass was very concerned, bringing me toy after toy and offering to get me tissues. Her little hands stroked my hair back from my face and rubbed me on the back.

"Why are you sad Mum?"

I couldn't really explain it to myself at the time so I told her it was hard to explain.

She got down on my level and told me seriously with confidence, "You'll be okay Mum. I have so much joy in my heart, I will give you some."

And don't you know it, she did.

We Have a Hammock....

2011-12-17T06:53:00.002+10:00

That is all.

As you were.

Natural Living - The Face.

2011-12-06T16:51:00.007+10:00

A few weeks ago I went to a party that I knew was attended by people I hadn't seen in over 4 years (ie- pre-children).

At first I was really excited to see many of my old friends, but that excitement was soon marred by uncertainty.

4 years ago I looked pretty different.

Feeling self-conscious, I tried to picture how someone who hadn't seen me in 4 years would view my current appearance.

I concluded that with two small children and a third on the way, my hair no longer dyed or straightened (or trimmed at all in the last few years), my face no longer with any make-up, my clothes no longer fashionable and tight, nor my body all that tight anymore if I am honest, my legs and arm-pits no longer smooth and waxed and my even tan gone with the wind, people could be forgiven if they thought that I had totally let myself go.

Would they believe me if I had the guts to say that I hadn't let myself go, but instead I'd actually found myself?

I don't mean that in a trekking-through-Tibet, eat-pray-love, spiritual discovery kind of way.

I mean that in a DUDE. THIS is what my God-given face looks like when I don't cover it up with make-up, kind of way.

And do you know, I actually didn't know what my face looked like without make-up? I mean, everyone takes their make-up off at the end of the day and probably glances in the mirror in the morning before they re-apply it, but it wasn't until I'd spent a few weeks make-up free that I actually got used to the way I looked. Not to mention the fact that skin that does not wear make-up looks really different to skin that regularly gets covered in stuff and then has other stuff put on it to get the first stuff off.
That was a bad sentence. What it meant was: my skin was way better than I gave it credit for when I just left it alone.

Me in 2005. 19, teeny tiny, and quite vain.

The whole natural appearance thing began with not wearing make-up. It was a complex mental journey that can be summed up in a few key ideas that stand out to me.

God is the master artist. He declared me fearfully and wonderfully made. Either He meant it, or He did not. Either I believe Him, or I do not. Either I get up each day and 'edit' His creation, or I get up each day and thank Him for it.

We have a society of women who hate themselves more than any generation before them. We are more preoccupied with our appearance than ever before.

We also talk SO MUCH about and write and read so many books about self-acceptance. The thought that came to me was: 'Every time I pick up that compact or brush, I am sowing a seed of unacceptance.' When a woman applies make-up, she is quite literally refusing to accept a part of herself the way it is.
I do not want to start each day I live on this earth sowing those seeds.

Further to that, I now believe that television and magazines aren't the perpetuators of our self-doubt. (Although they may be the authors). We are. Every morning at 6am.

My Cassandra asked me once if she could wear make-up. I told her she didn't need it, she was perfect. By omission, I was telling her that her Mummy was flawed. And that when she grew up she would be too.

I never ever want to tell my child that message again; in words or deeds.

I have now been without make-up for over a year and I've really enjoyed it. My husband prefers it too. Here are some of the direct benefits I've experienced.

My face feels cleaner. The few times I've applied make-up for special events or put a bit of concealer under my eyes the morning after a rough night with Eli, it feels really gross. Even minimal make-up is a bit uncomfortable.

My skin looks better. I don't get pimples at all anymore (although the pregnancy and constant breastfeeding definitely helps).

Women are more comfortable with me when I meet them.
I am sure this has a lot to do with my changes in the way I dress too. Women definitely feel more comfortable around a woman who is not dressed to the nines and made up.

When I thought about it some more, I realised that the women I've always bonded with the most easily, who are so real and totally themselves- never playing the weird social games that women play or having a 'front' you have to get past- they all don't wear make-up.

After more than a year of looking just as I do, not sowing daily seeds of lack of acceptance of my appearance, I am more comfortable in my skin than I've been at any other point in my life. I actually feel more attractive. I think this also lends itself to being more approachable to other women. It's hard to warm to someone who is very insecure.

That has been my experience. As a standing disclaimer, my own experiences are not the filter through which I view and judge other people. I have no convictions about make-up being BAD AND WRONG and I am just sharing my experiences through this blog as per usual.

I'll next be sharing my experience of being a woman who has embraced her very feminine and attractive body hair ;) (I'm totally serious. Armpit hair on women looks good folks.)

Me in 2011- Make-up free and loving it.

Half-Way Mark

2011-11-22T11:52:00.003+10:00

I am somewhere around 20 weeks pregnant at the moment.

This means a few things.

I can feel proper somersaulting and watch my belly ripple if I lay on my back.

I want to eat everything in sight (a normal state of being) and begin to feel like I can legitimately blame this on my pregnant state.

I try to send Stephen out at 9pm for some odd food on occasion, who refuses because of the quality of food I am attempting to send him for. (The area we've moved to has both a Baskin and Robbins AND a Cold Rock within a small radius.) I am getting better at not sulking when he refuses.
(I once cried myself to sleep when pregnant with Cass because he wouldn't go out to fetch me Tim Tams. Ha! He felt REALLY REALLY bad about it afterward. I remember him saying: 'I didn't know it was a pregnant thing, I just thought it was, you know, you.)

I have begun to have vivid birth dreams. They are the same dreams as my last two pregnancies. I walk about, feel some tightenings and push a baby out- no discomfort or anything and then cuddle and cuddle and cuddle. Lovely! A nice break from those first trimester nightmares.

I am getting REALLY impatient to meet this baby. It doesn't help that Cass asks at least once a day when we are going to meet the baby.

If I watch this video, I get all silly and cry.

Eli has started this thing where if he sits down on the ground, he then gets up slowly with a kind of 'huuuurr' noise. I think I need to stop over-exaggerating my new-found difficulty of movement. After all, it's downhill from here anyway with some 20 weeks to go. I've resolved to stop grunting at every slightly inconvenient movement, if only to stop my son embarrassing me in public with his cute imitation.

I get to experience that physical sensation of a toddler feeding whilst it's sibling rolls about in my belly. After the utter squicks I get from tandem nursing, this rates second on my 'horrible physical sensations' list. This is particularly heightened by the fact that feeding Eli is Painful right now. Quite bad. He's being really good natured about me cutting the feeds short though. I suppose he doesn't mind short feeds, as he is unimpressed by my milk drying up and regularly points at my breasts and declares them to be 'GLUCK' (yuck). He still comfort feeds for naps and bed-time though and if he is sad or hurt.

I have an obsession with staring at Cass and Eli's baby photos and trying to transport myself back to those first few days with them.

Cass' first bath.

Eli breastfeeding a few hours after he was born.

Eli- a few days old and getting ready for his first bath. I stare and stare at this picture, trying to recapture the feeling and scent of burying my face in a newborn's neck (especially after my milk has come in and they begin to smell really really delicious) but I can't quite get it.

I really really enjoy being pregnant at the moment, but gee, I want this baby to be in my arms REALLY soon please!

Share My Cravings: Sultana Bread

2011-11-19T08:13:00.002+10:00

All of my preparations for Christmas have gotten me in the mood for holiday food.

This has led to a craving for hot cross buns (hey, my hormones don't know which holiday it is), which in turn made me wonder:
WHY HAVE I NEVER MADE SULTANA BREAD BEFORE??

There was no good answer. So I sent myself straight to the kitchen.

For this bread I just used my favourite hot cross bun recipe, thrown into a bread tin.
It was beautiful, but a bit too fluffy (perfect in bun form) for my preference, as I like a more dense fruit bread. I'll experiment some more next time.

Nonetheless, this was delicious. Next time I use this recipe I'll just make buns without the cross on top.

Hot Cross Buns/Spicy Sultana Bread
Makes 12 buns or 1 large loaf

600g plain flour (I used wholemeal)
300ml of warm milk (I used soy)
2 cups sultanas
2 eggs
14g dry yeast
60g caster sugar (I skipped this without substituting)
60g butter (I used soy margarine)
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp mixed spice
1 tsp salt
1 tsp orange essence
zest of one orange

1. Whisk together warm milk, sugar (optional) and yeast until sugar is dissolved. Cover and leave till frothy (5-10 min).

2. Sift together flour, spices and salt.

3. Rub butter into flour mix.

4. Stir sultanas and orange zest into flour and butter mix.

5. In a separate bowl beat eggs. Add orange essence to eggs.

6. Stir egg mix and yeast mix into flour. Stir well.

7. Cover mix and leave until it has doubled in size.

8. Turn out and knead for 5-8 minutes until smooth.

9. Separate into 12 balls (for buns) and place in a lined oven tray or place into greased and floured bread tin. Cover and leave for a second rise.

10. Once bread has risen again (to almost double), place in a 180 degree oven for about 30 minutes or until done. (Bread is done when it sounds a little hollow when you knock on the top with your knuckles.)

11. If making buns, bake first for 10 minutes at 200 degrees, then a further 15 minutes at 180.

And then enjoy!

We did!

Home Sweet Home!

2011-11-09T21:53:00.003+10:00

We moved into our new house just over three weeks ago (and got the internet hooked up almost a week ago).

I am 90% unpacked and I've christened the place with the smell of freshly baked bread.

I've kissed little sleepy heads, little bumped knees (Cass calls them 'sore-eys'), nursed away Eli's crankies, washed countless nappies and hung them in the fresh air and sunshine (not to be had at our old house).

I've cooked dinners, hosted guests, taken trips to discover my local shops and taken long detours home again when I've gotten lost.

I've felt lonely, I've cried some, I've reveled in my immediate surroundings whilst feeling distant from friends and family.

I've not felt an ounce of sadness about leaving our old house/tomb, and comforted Cassandra when she's missed the only home she's ever had.

I've spent a week and a half driving like a grandma in our new car (to replace the one from the accident that ended up being written off).

My midwife has visited me at my new home, and, in what will hopefully be the house this new blessing grows up in, got to hear his/her little heartbeat with Cass and Eli taking turns with the Doppler.

I'm embracing all of the changes as much as I can, for someone who likes change as much as a fish likes long walks on the beach at sunset.

Fundamentally however, I am in love with the actual house we live in. It is a phenomenal blessing and a great place that will be wonderful to raise our children in. I am very very thankful.

Wading into Controversial Waters..

2011-10-15T06:15:00.003+10:00

..with this one, but none-the-less, here's a link to:

10 Reasons the Pill Sucks, by Bad Catholic.

I am a protestant who does not believe in the use of birth control, and I love love love to get the (I guess you might say 'original') Catholic perspective.

Also, this is my favourite bit of speaking/writing (there's a transcript as well as audio) about contraceptives from a Catholic source EVER.

Contraception: Why Not? by Janet Smith.

The audio links are right at the top but the rest of the page is the transcript. The only deviation in my beliefs from her's are that toward the end as she explains NFP, I do not agree that it is necessarily appropriate for constant contraceptive use.

Actually, as far as I can tell from reading the Catholic Catechism and the Humanae Vitae (correct me if I'm wrong), the Catholic church condones the use of NFP for contraception in the gravest of circumstances (mother's health, extremely poor finances etc.) not for general use to avoid children.

My reasons for not being comfortable with constant NFP use for Christian couples is:
A. It's unbiblical, as per 1 Corinthians 7:4-5:

The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife.

Defraud ye not one the other, except it be with consent for a time, that ye may give yourselves to fasting and prayer; and come together again, that Satan tempt you not for your incontinency.

and B. It is against God's design for a couple to abstain from sex when a woman is ovulating. It is also unhealthy for a woman in her fertile years to have long periods of infertility.

As Christians, we know that the best place to live is within God's design and deviating from that does have consequences. Certainly I think it is wise not to do so without strong reasons.

My Life in Bullet Points

2011-10-04T12:40:00.002+10:00

I am fifteen weeks pregnant now but it's very weird. I haven't been nauseous this pregnancy (despite quite bad illness with Cass and moderate with Eli), and so far have no symptoms besides the fact that I am slowly getting chubbier. I don't feel any movement yet, but apparently that could be the fact that we suspect my placenta is anterior. (I had posterior placenta's both other times and movement at 14 weeks).

Actually I was wrong- I have one new symptom- breast-feeding aversion. Feeding Eli is now painful and yick-feeling. I was half convinced to wean him, getting visions of a simple feeding relationship with just me and the new bub, but after reading through some of my old books I am reconfirmed in my desire to give Eli access to milk at least into his third year. (I am philosophically in favour of child-led weaning, in the same way that I am philosophically against eating animals until about once every year or so when I convince myself that as long as this particular chicken in front of me has already snuffed it, surely there's no harm in chewing on it a bit?)

My car was rear-ended last week.

On Tuesday I was sitting stationary in traffic with my indicator on waiting to turn right into the street we live on. I saw a four-wheel-drive approaching at full speed in my rear-view mirror that was not slowing down and I just had time to scream and turn my head around to see my kids.

The car hit us at full speed and sent us 10m down the road. Our car will probably be written off. The damage is crazy. The insurance guy was at our house today looking at the car and was implying that I was lying to him about some damage to get more money from the insurance company. The back of the car is ruined (as you would expect), but he was telling me that there shouldn't be any damage under the hood because it was a rear collision. I explained how hard we were hit and said that the engine/radiator etc were not actually broken (I think), but they had been shaken out of place- it's a mess under there. The seats inside the car are broken too. We were hit so hard that things were dislodged all over the place.

I can't believe how bad our car is, and both of my children (who were in the back when we were hit and we have a very small boot on the car) are totally fine praise God! I have minor whiplash and some bruises, but I don't even need physio. We are just thanking God so much. I was really shook up emotionally at first but now I am just so so grateful.

We have found a midwife for our home-birth with this baby, despite legislation changes between Eli's birth and this pregnancy rendering home-birth a whole lot less accessible. Eli's midwife has been recently blessed with another child of her own and is on maternity leave, so I began hunting the second I knew I was pregnant.

We have purchased our first home and are moving in less than 3 weeks.

My feelings about this go as follows:

I have also begun many projects that I want to finish before the baby arrives. I've finished 2/3rds of a knitted baby blanket (in bright green and teal merino) and am almost done piecing together a patchwork quilt for my own bed in time for summer.

So there we are. Could I be busier? I am tempted to say 'NO', but last week's car crash (and the resulting PAPERWORK and leg-work) has taught me a thing or two.

An Important Video

2011-09-28T19:23:00.003+10:00

This 33 minute award-winning documentary is really worth a watch. I had to carve time out of my day to watch it and I am glad I did.

It was very moving to watch people's hearts change in the space of a few minutes.

Cute Stories and Irrelevant Pictures

2011-09-26T13:49:00.003+10:00

We've had the most beautiful weather lately. Every time the first-trimester tiredness gets to me, we head outdoors where I can sit and the children can be children.

I thought I would share some of the gems that have come out of Cassandra's mouth lately. If only I could take a peek inside that fuzzy cute head....

~~~~

Cass is crying because she banged herself on the head.
I pick her up, saying: 'Oh! Did you bump your poor little head?'
"No!' she tells me between sobs, 'I bumped my BIG Cass head!'

~~~~

Cassandra is into naming and nick-naming everything. I do not allow her to call me names. She is constantly told: 'You may call me Mum, Mummy or Mama.' None-the-less, some of her names for me are amusing and I will have a giggle about them later.
At the moment she persists in calling me 'Old Mummy', because, you guessed it, apparently I am old.
She is also calling Eli 'Mean Baby', but as a pet name. For instance, it will be used in a sentence like, 'Oh Mean Baby, do you need help? I can help you!'. She is being discouraged, although it also really amuses me!

~~~~

Cassandra: MY Daddy is sillier than YOUR Daddy, Mama.

(I'm not so sure about that, kid.)

~~~~

Cassandra: Mummy, one day I will be your king.
Lauren: You can't be baby. Jesus is my king.
Cassandra: (after a long pause, in an urgent tone) Mummy what AM I???
Lauren: (trying not to laugh at the look of sheer bewilderment on her face) What do you mean?
Cassandra: Am I a husband?
Lauren: No darling, you are a daughter and also a sister.

~~~~

Some cute names for things:
The Beast from her 'Beauty and the Beast' book gets called 'The Bee-Sting'
Rice Bubbles are 'Bubble-bees'

~~~~

The opening notes of 'Jammin' come over the car speakers.
Cass: Is that Bob Marley Mama?
Lauren: Yes honey.
Cass: I think Bob Marley is MEAN.
Lauren: Oh really? Why?
Cass: Just because he sucks.
Lauren: I beg your pardon??
Cass: He SUCKS.
(I am later informed: 'Mummy. I don't know what 'sucks' means'. I guess the adult she heard it from didn't explain it to her *ahem*. NOT ME.)

~~~~

~~~~

As winter set in this year I would occasionally tell Cassandra, 'Your hands/feet are like icicles!'
From Cass this came out as:
'Hey Mum! My feet are vegetables!' & 'Hey Mum! My hands are bicycles!'

~~~~

Cass is staring at me. This is usually followed by her proclaiming, 'Mummy, you are beautiful!'. This time however her eyes narrow and she says to me, 'Mum, you look like a monkey.' I start to laugh but stop when I realise how serious her face is- she is not playing a joke.
Pointing at my head she clarifies, 'I mean your ears do.' Thanks :)

~~~~

At Singapore Zoo Eli wanders about 10m away from us. Cass yells at us to get him back but we casually reassure her that we know where he is and it's okay.
She begins to scream and cry hysterically, like I've never seen before and yells, 'I WANT MY BROTHER!!!'. Stephen hurries to fetch Eli back as I cuddle Cass who immediately calms down and tells me through hiccups, 'Mum. I was so scared he was going to be squished by the thing." (She meant tram, but there wasn't one in sight.)

~~~~

Cass has been giving out imaginary presents. One morning she gave Stephen a gift that was a dolly pram and insisted he take it to work. He played along.
The second he got in the door that evening she asked him very politely, 'Did you "brrm" your pram at work today Daddy?'

~~~~

I'd found the children with a dead cockroach. Cassandra was wiggling her finger and saying, 'Tickle, tickle tickle!' and going in with the wiggling finger to tickle it. Eli was wiggling his finger too and sort of half joining in, but just stopping short of actually touching the cockroach each time to say 'GLUCK' (yuck).

~~~~

'Ballet hooping'

Snapshot of Singapore

2011-09-19T19:14:00.003+10:00

My life is currently BIG-TIME crazy and I have so much in my head I want to blog about!

But first things first- I've promised Singapore photos and here they are.

The most important thing to know about Singapore is....

It's hot. Crazy hot.

The kids trying to cool down in a patch of the previous night's rain.

And the heat is exhausting.

Like, really exhausting.

But some folks don't mind.

Singapore is home to the Merlion.

And they were hosting the Terracotta Warriors.

They were in Australia just before they went to Singapore, but toured a museum in another state so I missed them. So glad we caught them in Singapore!

Cass reminded us of her dare-devil nature...

By loving the sky-cars while her father tried not to look out the window....

And losing it BIG time when we told her she was too small to go on the sling-shot ride at Marina Quay.

And did I mention the heat?

Some of the air-conditioning set ups were pretty impressive.

As I went through our photos, I realised most are just of our children.

There aren't a great deal of photos of landmarks and tourist attractions, even though we visited most of them. We did the tourist thing last time around when we were nineteen.

We also discovered that it's also much harder to juggle a camera between the two children!

None-the-less, I hope you enjoyed seeing a bit of our holiday!

Cassandra, We Have Something to Tell You.

2011-09-01T21:29:00.005+10:00

A conversation we had with Cassandra last week.

Cass: What do you want to tell me something of?

Stephen: There's a little baby growing inside Mummy's belly!

Cass: (hesitant) Yeah?

Stephen: So you're going to have a little brother or sister.

(Cassandra giggles for awhile, bouncing.)

Stephen: Is that good?

Cass: (emphatically) Yes! (Hesitant again) Well...she doesn't yet.

Stephen: Yeah Mummy does now! Right now it's in there. It's very little.

Cass: (patting belly) And mine too?

Stephen: No, not yours too, just Mummy's. But you'll get to share the baby.

Cass: And Eli?

Stephen: And Eli.

Lauren: Eli will be a big brother as well as a little brother. And you will be a big sister to two.

Cass: Mum, please can you show me?

Lauren: You can't see the baby, but maybe in a few weeks you'll be able to feel the baby move.

Cass: And I want to hold it.

Lauren: It will be a long time till we get to hold the baby. It takes a long time for the baby to grow in Mummy's belly.

(Cassandra spends a little while checking out my belly and is unimpressed.)

Cass: Mum, did you know that there are two babies in your belly?

Lauren: Well it's on record that you've predicted that. I don't think so though. Why do you think there are two?

Cass: So there is going to be one for me?

Lauren: Ohh, one for you and one for me, is that it?

Cass: Yeah.

Lauren: I think we can just share.

~~~~

Baby number 3 is a great blessing for us. We expect bub's arrival sometime in March/April 2012. With God's blessing, we expect to have another home birth. I am feeling very healthy and well and am very excited!

Some Sugar for Your Tuesday

2011-08-23T19:12:00.003+10:00

We are back from Singapore!

We had a really good time! Thank you also for any prayers that may have been said for us as we travelled. The children were incredible on the plane. It was easier than in my wildest fantasies. They were so relaxed and happy and easy-going- no crying, no wanting to run in the aisles. No getting bored and kicking other people's seats or anything! Fellow travellers kept smiling at them and remarking on what well-behaved children they were and I tried to smile back without a look of shock on my face at what was happening.

I occassionally joked wryly in my head: 'Well of course they're well behaved, it's all of the excellent parenting they receive.' but I never joked out loud. Past experience has shown me that my tone of voice when joking somehow means I come across really badly (for reasons totally unknown to me. My husband will tell you how hilarious I think I am.) and people take me very much the wrong way. So in order not to alienate the people I would share breathing space with for the next few hours, I kept my lip buttoned.

Any way, I will share a few photos from our trip quite soon, but I wanted to first share the following two photos of sheer cuteness.

This one is from Marina Bay in Singapore just a few nights ago.

And this one is from a friend's wedding I attended a few months back. She sent it to me earlier this evening and I was so surprised and delighted! I hadn't even known there was a photo taken of my children at the wedding.

It's Just Magical

2011-08-02T21:11:00.005+10:00

One of the biggest joys in parenting so far has been watching the relationship between my children grow.

They have their own in-jokes, they know just what to do to cheer each other up when even Mama can't.

They know what that crying child/baby wants in the moment when Mama can't figure it out.

They know exactly what buttons to push with each other too ;)

In my house, the most fun thing that can happen sometimes is being sat on by your sibling.

Cassandra has a very precious bunny toy who sleeps with her. Shortly after Eli could walk, he would enjoy getting a rise out of her by toddling over and yanking it out of his sister's arms.

Now he's really sophisticated about it. He'll wait until bunny is temporarily abandoned, pick it up, walk over to his sister and wave it in front of her with a really casual 'Mah' (mine). The second she begins to freak out, he'll hand it over and give her a cuddle. I don't know if it's just for amusement or some kind of power play, but I always watch the situation resolve itself nicely with their cuddle and Cass telling me that Eli is being kind and think: 'Would it be over-parenting to intervene here?'

I worry about their squishy innards, but apparently if it causes them any pain the sheer hilarity of being sat on numbs it pretty well.

I wish I could remember even one incredibly sweet story to counter-balance the sister-baiting, but it's late and I'm just coming up blank. :)

On a completely un-related note we are heading to Singapore this weekend to visit with family for two weeks. I'm unlikely to access the internet in that time, so keep well and if you think to, say a prayer for me that I can relax and take things in my stride!

Informed consent in meat-eating.

2011-07-29T13:23:00.004+10:00

Back when I was pregnant with Cassandra, Stephen and I had lots of discussions about how we would feed our babies once they were on solids.

Stephen is a meat-eater and I am a vegetarian/wannabe-vegan. At the time, I cooked two variations of the same meal each evening, one with meat, one without. As babies came along I got busier, and we now eat vegetarian most evenings, with meat side additions for Stephen usually around three times a week.

So when it came to deciding when or if our children would try meat, here is what we came up with: I would raise the children on a vegetarian diet until they were of an age that they could understand what meat was and then try it if they wished.

Of all my parenting decisions so far, this is the one I get the most criticism for- By far!

I am repeatedly told that I should give my children meat and then let them decide when they are older if they want to be vegetarian. Frankly, this baffles me. I think people think that way because meat eating is normal. Normal it may be, but neutral it is not, which I think is the implication people are making.

I am of the opinion that in many things, but particularly when it comes to beliefs, there are very few things that are neutral. But having said that, I am being as unbiased as I can possibly be. I haven't spoken of factory farming, or any of my own beliefs about meat eating or anything. I explain where meat comes from and that is it. So far, Cass has not partaken except for a few tastes of fish. She doesn't show any distaste about meat, or any emotion at all really. I'm still not sure how much she understands, but I am satisfied at this stage that if she asks for some meat that her Dad is eating, she can try it if she wants.

It kind of feels like a big experiment. We don't know how it's going to turn out.
Stephen thinks our children will all become meat eaters because eventually they'll try meat and realise it's the greatest thing on earth ;) I think they may turn out to be meat-eaters because Daddy eats meat and Daddy is extremely cool :)
Or, that our girl/s might not want to eat meat because Mum doesn't. Or our particularly sensitive or feeling-type children won't eat meat but the other children might eat meat. Or or or.

So back to Cassandra. She knows that Mummy doesn't eat meat, she knows that Daddy does eat meat. She knows where meat comes from vaguely. I say to her: 'The pig dies, then it gets cut up and cooked and that's where Daddy's bacon comes from.'

I'll often say: 'Would you like to try some?' and she will most often reply, 'When I am a big grown-up.' I don't know where that comes from exactly.

Anyway, this is all well and good and I thought we were going to plan.

Children have been raised thus far healthily on a vegetarian diet- Check.

Three-year-old knows where meat comes from- Check.

Three-year-old knows she is free to try meat- Check.

Until two days ago when I heard her speaking to her brother.

Cassandra (playfully tickling Eli): Oh Eli! I'm going to eat you!
(loses playful tone and says seriously) Because one day you will die and then you'll be meat.

I stifled my slightly horrified laughter and told her that we don't eat people.

'Why not?' she responded.

My mind raced. 'God's law says no. Also, so does Man's law.'

'God says no?'

'Yes.'

This is feeling more and more like an experiment! But I am so interested to see her reaction if/when she tries meat for the first time.

Love this Video

2011-07-21T18:40:00.000+10:00

Baby Love

2011-07-15T19:31:00.003+10:00

Blog Name Change

2011-07-15T18:51:00.003+10:00

I've accepted the fact that my blog has become a Mama-blog and have changed the name to suit it.

I still have many blog posts in my head about social and political things, but I doubt I'll ever get to writing them, nor do I value my own opinion as much as I did when I started to write those blog posts in my head.

So in searching for a new blog title, I turned to Genesis Chapter 49, in which Jacob is dying and giving his blessing to each of his sons.

To Joseph he says:

22“Joseph is a fruitful vine,
a fruitful vine near a spring,
whose branches climb over a wall.

23 With bitterness archers attacked him;
they shot at him with hostility.

24 But his bow remained steady,
his strong arms stayed limber,
because of the hand of the Mighty One of Jacob,
because of the Shepherd, the Rock of Israel,

25 because of your father’s God, who helps you,
because of the Almighty, who blesses you
with blessings of the skies above,
blessings of the deep springs below,
blessings of the breast and womb.

26 Your father’s blessings are greater
than the blessings of the ancient mountains,
than the bounty of the age-old hills.
Let all these rest on the head of Joseph,
on the brow of the prince among[e] his brothers.

I love the start of verse 26. God's blessings are indeed greater than any other blessing this world has to offer. Children, God's greatest gift to a marriage, are the blessings I am currently enjoying and blogging about, so to me it fits.

This blog began when I was the new mother of Cassandra Grace, and has grown along with me as we were also blessed with Elisha James. You are invited to continue along this journey with me, as I explore my own role in my home and in faith, anticipate further blessings from God.

Birth Haiku's

2011-07-07T21:36:00.004+10:00

Jennifer over at Conversion Diary gave birth to her fifth child (a girl!) and in lieu of a birth story shared some birth haiku's and invited others to do the same.

I love haiku's. I used to write a lot of poetry, but since becoming a time-pressed mother I am limited to limericks and haiku's. Limericks are fun, but I love trying to capture anything in just 17 syllables.

I didn't join in with the comments, but the idea has been floating around and around in my head.

If you look over on my sidebar at my introduction, I'm sure most of you have seen my invitation to read Eli's birth story. If you've ever wondered why I don't have Cass' birth story there, it's because I've never written it. I've been challenged on a number of occasions to write it and I am just not sure I am ready yet. At the same time, I am worried that I am losing some of the details. Not all of them though. I still get PTSD flashbacks of her birth and I can assure you that there are details I would happily lose.

At any rate, my birth haiku's are fully composed and here they are.

Cass' Birth Haiku
(38 hour traumatic hospital birth- epidural, ventouse and episiotomy)

Baby is removed:
Pull and tug, snip, then stitch stitch.
Oh. Now I'm empty.

Eli's Birth Haiku
(7 hour joyous home birth)

Profoundly grateful
For this Holy joint venture:
Baby, God and me.

I know that soon I will have to write out the story of Cass's birth. I've been thinking about it more and more lately and I want to get it out. Digging up traumatic memories is not my idea of a fun and happening evening though, so I've been procrastinating.

An aside- There is a common misunderstanding of birth trauma that the mother is just concentrating on the bad parts of her experience and not being grateful for her child. This is untrue. If this is your understanding of birth trauma, please stop by this site to become better informed. Natural birth is designed by God to begin a relationship beautifully. Birth trauma can damage that relationship before it begins. Time heals, and God heals, and I can attest that subsequent birth experiences can be healing, but birth trauma is real. Tread gently, have compassion and open your arms and ears to new Mamas doing it tough.

Wear-It-Out Wednesday

2011-06-29T06:26:00.004+10:00

A few weeks ago I was wearing my very favourite skirt and playing with Eli, rolling about on the floor, when I heard a rip. I was dismayed to find a tear in the very back, in a place too obvious to repair. The fabric was also worn too thin in that section for easy mending.

You'll have to forgive the bad quality of the photos

I threw it in my scrap fabric box and spent a few moments sulking. Then it was promptly forgotten.

Yesterday however, it resurfaced as I was looking for something to turn into a summer top for Cassandra. (I am planning on sewing most of Cass' summer clothes this year as modest and frugal clothing for little girls is getting increasingly difficult for me to find.)

I'm on a bit of a shirring elastic binge at the moment, so snip snip snip, stitch stitch stitch and here we are.

This was such an easy top to make. I am considering making a tutorial for it if there is any interest.

Cass liked it very much too.

So have you up-cycled anything lately?

Boo.

2011-06-27T21:57:00.003+10:00

Not much is happening here at the moment.

Just life.

Just happy to enjoy this level of cuteness on a day to day basis.

Magic Trick

2011-06-08T21:39:00.004+10:00

This cool thing happens to my breastfed babies from 6 months to 18 months.

Both of my kids in that time have remained close to the same weight, but stretched slightly and lost their chub. Resulting in this really cool transformation that, if I'm lucky, means I can pull out last seasons clothes for them all over again.

Here is our blue jumpsuit last winter.

And again this year.

Neat huh?

Green and Blue and Cars

2011-06-01T18:26:00.003+10:00

Cassandra's 3rd birthday was not a happy one.

She was an emotional ball of crazy. In fact, she threw her very first public, on-the-floor-thrashing tantrum when we went to the video store.

Apart from the few weeks after Eli was born, it was the most irrational and volatile I've ever seen her.

No idea what was going on, but the next few days were similar and then the crazy was over.

Oh well. By the Saturday when it was her party, she was a somewhat rational (for a toddler) human being again and we had a good day.

Here is the cake I managed according to Cass' very specific instructions.
In the morning I showed it to her and asked if it met with her approval and was gratified to hear a very excited: 'YES!' (especially considering I'd had a 10pm rush to the local shops the night before after making two very silly mistakes in my preparation.)

I feel like I did alright considering my brief, and the fact that I am not myself very into green and blue and cars.

Her camera-ready smile.

The cake was a beautiful chocolate made from this truly excellent recipe, with peppermint swiss meringue buttercream made from this recipe. It was a very very very delicious cake.

And a few more photos from the party.....

I love this kid so much. Words aren't enough.

Not much 'baby' left in her now.

2011-05-18T14:16:00.002+10:00

Today is the last day that Cassandra will ever spend as a two-year-old.

The last photo of my wee Miss as a two-year-old. Taken a week ago.

I hope that I'll say this every year, but this past year was the best of my life. Having a toddler in the house is hands down the THE most fun thing I've ever encountered. A little girl especially giggles all day long, and those giggles are catching.

In terms of development, 2-3 seemed quite huge to me. The word explosion Cass went through was fantastic.

So in honour of my little girl turning 3 tomorrow, I thought I would share the best quotes from Cassandra this year. (In chronological order- that is, from just putting sentences together to speaking.her.every.thought.)

~~~~~~

I am lying on my back in the middle of the floor. Cassandra lifts my shirt and plays with the wrinkles on my belly. "Mummy got wrinkly belly".
"Do you know why? I asked, then continued, not waiting for an answer, "You and Eli both grew in my belly making it veeery big. Now there are wrinkles."
Cass paused, seeming to take it in, then, leaning over, she rested her head on my belly sideways, looking me in the face. "I want to go in there now!" she said in the saddest little voice, her bottom lip poking out.

~~~~~~

While I am peeling vegetables for dinner Cassandra watches and says with a cheeky grin, "Mummy ooooh! The vegetables are naaaked."

~~~~~~

Our family is sitting about at my parent's house. The men are drinking beer and reading the sports facts from the insides of the lids to each other. Cassandra picks up a beer lid and looks inside, "I read this one."

My father says, "You take it to your Daddy. He'll read it to you."

Cassandra 'reads' it herself in a great imitation of a stilted 'reading voice',

"It say: Don't put this in your mouth."

~~~~~~

I am talking to Stephen with Cassandra playing quietly nearby.

"Hey Stephen, are those pants tighter on you this year?"

"Are you saying I'm fat?" he replies, then playfully addresses Cassandra, "Cass? Is your mummy saying I'm fat?"

Cassandra looks up from her toys and instantly replies in an aggressive yell that is very unlike her, "No, I'M saying you fat!!'

~~~~~~

Cassandra begins sobbing in the bath. I ask, "Cass! Why are you crying honey??"

"I don't want to hab armpits!" She manages to choke out and that is the only explanation I get.
Sorry kid, can't help you there.

~~~~~~

For a few weeks Cass went through a stage of saying to me after walking up behind me, "Mum, you got threee bums.'

~~~~~~

Cass is lying on the floor when Eli crawls over her tummy. She yells out in distress: 'Mum! Eli is pushing on my bladder!!'

~~~~~~

Cass pretends to be her Daddy a lot. Her main line is: 'I'm Teeben. I go to work EBERY day to do dee digging and dee building.' (He works in marketing, but Cass is obsessed with construction sites and road work.)

~~~~~~

Cassandra lifts up Stephen's hair, "There's no brain in here!". (No idea where she learned about brains.)

~~~~~~

(bird noise from outside)
Cass: What's that?
Lauren: An elephant.
Cass: No, it's an octopus!
Stephen: Oh really? Cass, do you know where an octopus lives?
Cass: Yes. It lives inside a banana.

~~~~~~

Cass is having a conversation over breakfast with Eli and I am straining to hear her talk.

I catch her saying, "Eli, do you remember when I was a little baby and you weren't here?"

~~~~~~

Lauren: Cass, what does Mum's milk taste like? (Having heard lots of stories of toddler's descriptions of their mother's milk, I started asking when Cass got old enough to answer, but she always gave me an odd look and said: 'milk.')
Cass: (very decisively) Beans.
Lauren: What kind of beans?
Cass: Green beans.
After that conversation she now calls beans 'green milk beans'. (Interestingly, toddlers will often describe the taste of their mother's milk as their favourite food, so you'll often hear 'strawberries' or 'chocolate' etc)

~~~~~~

Eli has split his lip and is howling, and I am trying to calm him down and see where the blood is coming from, as well as try to get him to breastfeed to calm him down. As this is going on Cass begins to yell 'Mum! Hey Mum! Look at me!' over Eli's screaming, as though it isn't even happening. I don't answer but keep at calming Eli. Cass continues to yell for my attention.
Eli takes the breast and is calm and I look about. "Yes Cass? Where are you?"
"Hey! Mum!" she is lying behind my couch spread eagled on her back.
"Hey Mum! Look at me! I'm a pillowcase!"

~~~~~~

Cass is lying in bed as I tuck her in, feeling with her hands all about her face and head. In a slightly alarmed voice she says, "Mum! I have a BIG head!"

~~~~~~

The day after the above quote,
Cass: Daddy! You got a BIG head! We got to take it off! (starts pulling at his chin)

~~~~~~

Cass: (in a low voice to Stephen) I'm Daddy. You're Cassandra.
Stephen: (starts pretending to cry)
Cass: (cuddles and strokes Stephen's head and in her deep voice still) Oh daarling! Don't cry! Daddy's here!

~~~~~~

Cass lets out a big toot and doesn't comment. I ask, "Are you forgetting your manners?"

Cassandra puts down her toy and walks to stand directly in front of me and replies in a very polite voice, "Excuuse me Mum, can you PLEASE get me some moose juice?"

~~~~~~

Cass crawls in bed next to me at 4.30am, whispers in my ear: 'I can't WAIT till we have another baby Mum!' and goes straight back to sleep.

~~~~~~

We are eating dinner and I start singing.
Cass: No Mummy! Don't sing! You'll make the sun come out!

~~~~~~

Cass: (yelling at the back door at night time) Moths! Moths!!
(then with her head on the side, speaking calmly now that she evidently has their attention) Do you cry when the geckos eat you?
(yelling again) Well? Do you??

~~~~~~

Cass: Beean! Beeaaan! Mummy, I'm calling YOU Bean.
Lauren: Cassandra, why are you calling me Bean?
Cass; Because I don't want to call you Mummy EBER EBER again. You are Bean now.

~~~~~~

I am lying in bed in the very early morning when Cass climbs into bed. I determinedly ignore her, knowing that she is here to play, not sleep more.
Cass says something in a low voice but I ask her not to talk please, Mummy is still sleeping.
Cassandra starts stroking and feeling the shape of my elbow. She speaks again, but I don't hear her. She repeats herself, but I am half asleep. Another repetition.
I give in, "Pardon Cass? What are you saying?"
"I'm saying: You have a BIG booby Mum!", still stroking my elbow.
I tune in fast. "Cass! That IS NOT my booby! It's my elbow!"
She says, "Oh!" feeling further down and finding my hand, then cracks up into hysterical giggles that I have to join in with. A pleasant way to wake up after all.

~~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed those! I will post photos of her birthday and her party next week. She has asked me for a green cake with a blue car on it, so I'll see how that goes. I bet it ends up looking really ugly! I spent months feeding her cake ideas about flowers and red icing but to no avail. Everything is green and blue and cars.

Two Things

2011-05-04T18:49:00.003+10:00

1. Weaning went surprisingly well! Cass cried the first morning, but we continued our dialogue and she was fine the next day. So I think that means that she must be pretty emotionally well adjusted.....or it could mean that I've somehow oppressed her and she is actually emotionally deadened and not able to express herself well..........Oh motherhood!! Is nothing clear cut? Will self doubt be ever-present???

....Anyhow, that's the end of that chapter. I'm still a bit sad, but mostly REALLY REALLY GLAD! I don't feel the need to 'have my body to myself' as I've heard other women say (and if I did, I would still have to figure out how to wean Eli and also um.....not be married anymore) but it is nice to have a little more space and not be groped so much (Mums to breastfeeding toddlers- you know what I mean!).

2. I am a baking monster. I. CAN'T. STOP. BAKING. I am not looking forward to our gas bill.

I think I mentioned in another post that I bake all of our bread now. A fair bit of it is 'no-knead' bread, but I have also been making kneaded loaves and buns and sweet loaves and anything I can think of anytime I have an excuse.

I am very excited at the moment though because this week I finally stopped being a chicken and made my own sour dough from my very own sour dough culture.

The main reason I hadn't tried was because I'd read 6 different sour dough culture and sour dough bread-making recipes and many of them said things in stark contrast to the others! You CAN NOT leave the dough for more than 7 hours/ You MUST leave the dough for at least 12 hours. ????? So, like most of my cooking, I read some more recipes that contradicted each other, shrugged, and made up my own version, which worked out very very well and was 80-150% less work than all the other recipes put together.

The best thing about having sour dough bread is that I can now eat bread without it making me ill! Bread has been making me sick for over a year now, so it's nice to know that sour dough is easy on my stomach. I am so heady with success I am going to attempt to make sourdough essene bread later this week!

I am taking notes along the way in my bread-making journey and I am working on a blog series about frugal and more importantly LAZY bread-making for the busy homemaker.

He and I, hand in hand, make the world's smallest army.

2011-04-29T19:57:00.002+10:00

Four years ago today, Stephen married a contentious wife.

I was young and lively and loved him as best as I knew how. Unfortunately, I also had the mistaken belief that marriage was an institution designed purely for the mutual happiness of those who would enter into it.

Around two years ago, God got a hold of me in a new way and I became passionate about seeking HIS ways in my life, especially in my marriage and in motherhood.

I praise God that His ways are higher than our ways! I am so grateful that my focus for my marriage has changed from wanting my marriage to be fair and equal, to wanting it to reflect the glorious picture of Christ and His church.

My struggle is no longer that of my own will against Stephen's; but against my own flesh. And that is a good fight!

Two Things

2011-04-13T18:47:00.004+10:00

Thing Number One

What goes in must come out.

Eli's chin was stained pink the first day, his bum was stained pink the second day. (And a cloth nappy has been stained potentially forever as a memorial.)

It was kind of funny to me how much I've changed in a few short years of reproducing. If that had been Cass my internal dialogue would have been something like: 'Oh my goodness! Why would she do that?? Wait, do I need to call the poison hotline??'

This time I sighed and my internal dialogue went like: 'I'd guess I'd better get a wash cloth and the camera.'

Anyway my lessons here are: 1. Throw away old costume make-up.
2. Don't assume Stephen is actually awake and watching the baby at my dressing table.

Thing Number Two

The big W word. I am weaning poor Cassandra. Today she had her (potentially) last breastfeed ever. I've talked with her for the past few weeks about weaning and how she's growing up etc. This week I kind of gave her a count down to her last feed, explaining this morning that tomorrow she could have warm soy milk in her special cup and cuddles with mum.

She kept telling me all day about how sad she was :( I tell her: 'I'm sad too Cassandra. Sometimes growing up is a little bit sad, but it's exciting too.' After her last ever feed this morning she left me to cuddle Dad because she was 'so so sad'. She came out a little later and I asked if the cuddles made her feel better. 'No,' she told me, 'I be sad for-EBER.'

It feels so mean. I feel really really guilty. I thought I would never actively wean her, allowing her to decide when she was ready to stop. However the last 6 months have been rough. I've had this bizarre feeling every time she nurses that just makes my skin crawl and I want to push her away from me. It's not emotional, it feels really primal. I've fought it and fought it, but her feeds have been getting longer and longer- she feeds WAY longer than Eli.

It feels mean to wean her when her brother still feeds and there is a constant reminder to her that she can't and he can. She is old enough for me to talk about it with her though and I am pretty sure she understands that babies have milk and big girls don't. It also helps that many of her toddler friends were also breastfed and she is the last one still feeding. I've been telling her about each of her friends and how they have weaned and they are really big kids now.

I'm still not sure though that I won't just feed her come morning. I can't banish the thought that I am only weaning her because for the first time since I overcame our early breastfeeding challenges, breastfeeding her no longer 'works' for me. A part of me cries: 'So what if you're struggling? Meet the needs of your child!'

However I'm so upset by the resentment that has been building inside me. The dread that comes over me in the morning when I know she is about to ask for milk. The tantrums when I ask her to finish the feed early because I just can't take it anymore. The welts on my arms from digging in my nails because it's the only way I can get through a feed without feeling like shoving her away. The fact that digging in my nails isn't working as well anymore and I have to sing out loud to distract myself as well.

I don't know why I feel so crawl-out-of-my-skin bad when she feeds. I think the way she sucks may have changed as her facial shape and jaw has developed. I don't know, that's just a theory. All I know is that it was sudden. Around 6 months ago it suddenly became intolerable and I've been fighting it, hoping the feeling passes, ever since.

But it hasn't and here I am. Weaning my sad sad baby girl. Feeling for the moment like a sad sad mum.

Master Eli is teething...

2011-04-11T11:31:00.001+10:00

... and Mama ain't sleeping!

What Breastfeeding Means to Me

2011-04-01T13:14:00.002+10:00

I managed to articulate what breastfeeding contributes to my mothering and self esteem on a friend's blog today, and though I'd re-post it here, because I've been meaning to do a breastfeeding philosophy series, so I may as well kick it off with this:

"In the world of mothering in the 21st century, where more than ever you feel the pull-push of different parenting philosophies at every turn and the media is ever present in your life and motherhood journey; breastfeeding is the affirmative action, repeated many times a day, that restores my confidence, banishes the guilt, and reminds me: THIS is mothering. HERE is the pouring out of myself to nurture this child, this divine responsibility, this itty bitty flesh-of-my-flesh who so often confounds me and causes me to doubt. And again and again, all through the day and through the night my self esteem is restored. I know I am doing well by my child. I know that the place to be happy is here, the time to be happy is now. That, in a nutshell, is what breastfeeding is to me."

Yep. That's how I feel about breastfeeding in a nutshell. At some point, I will get around to cracking that nut and sharing all the things I think about boobs and babies. Such as sharing my own breastfeeding journey, my thoughts on weaning, not weaning, and breastfeeding and fertility. Another day though!

For now, why not check out my friend Georgia's blog, where she is calling for nursing mothers for a photography project?

You can find her and her beautiful family at Gregarious Peach.

Wear-It-Out Wednesday

2011-03-30T11:55:00.006+10:00

Part of the fun of being frugal for me is the creative challenge in bringing new life to old items.

Of late I've been collecting old clothes of my own and cast-offs from others and (attempting!) to convert them into clothes for my children.

This has been fun and has had some pretty cool advantages.

Firstly: 'free' clothes. Secondly: It has really stretched my previously pretty average sewing skills. AND, best of all, I've finally taken the plunge and started pattern making, with the safety net of not having forked out cash for the fabric in case I screw it up.

So I've decided I may as well chronicle these adventures, in case it inspires anyone else. Thus, Wear-It-Out Wednesday. (Which may not be limited to clothes.)

Without further ado, here is last night's work.

Eli needs autumn jam-jams and we are about to enter No Spend April (which is a whole other story). I searched through my stash and found two old shirts of mine- one that got a stain within the first week of wearing it (that was also my personal epiphany that, far from needing the apron which I had just gone to the trouble of sewing, what I really needed to protect my clothes was a bib) and one that just unraveled in the wash.

There they are.

So, 20 minutes and a few centimetres of ribbing later, they became this.

It's far from perfect, but it's really comfortable (I think. I mean, it feels nice to me and Eli didn't start screaming when I tried it on him) and will do the job.

I've been working on the pattern that I used to make this shirt for a little while now and this is without a doubt the best one I've made so far. The ribbing at the collar still stands up rather than lays flat, but I've learned enough so far to know how to alter the pattern for next time. Yay!

And now, to prove that once it's on it doesn't all bunch up on one shoulder or is massively too long in the arms (though that almost happened. Luckily Stephen was there to remind me that Eli wasn't an orangutan), here is a photo of the cute boy inside it.

Feel sorry for him. He's really sick this morning and that's a pretty sad little smile by Eli's standards.

I'll be finishing off the flannelette pajama pants tonight I think.

So there you go. Wear-It-Out Wednesday. If you have any cool links or photos of your own recycled sewing, definitely send them my way!

Baby to Boy

2011-03-20T06:05:00.004+10:00

It's crazy how much a first haircut changes the way you see a baby boy.

Before..

And after...

I'm not half as sad as I thought I'd be. (But I did anticipate some minor crying.)

I did think though, whilst picking up the fallen locks from the kitchen floor and putting them in a baggy to keep; 'Mums sure do some weird things.' But there's no way you could make me put that ducky soft baby hair in the bin.

I've just got to share this!

2011-03-18T12:15:00.003+10:00

I read this post today and my heart yelled a big 'YES'.

Please, take the time to read this letter a Mama wrote to her children. It isn't long, but it's so so SO everything I want to say to my own children- and many (beautiful Christian) people already questioning my desire to homeschool/other unpopular parenting choices.

I Don't Want My Children To Be Happy.

They're Not Twins...

2011-03-14T11:58:00.002+10:00

....But people are starting to ask.

The More You Have, The More You Have To Worry About.

2011-03-12T20:18:00.004+10:00

That's something my Poppa was well known for saying.

It's something that has been going around and around in my head these last weeks.

Escaping from bondage has been my goal. Simplifying my existence by shucking off the old and NOT ushering in anything new!

It started with turning off the computer in the daylight hours when my kids are awake. Because a thief was in my house, stealing me from my babies who deserve a mentally present Mama.

Next was my quitting Facebook. Gee that was a blessing. I put it off for months and months but in the end it was easier than ripping off a band-aid. I gained even more mental space for enjoying my own life, the here and now. No more coveting what other people's lives appear to be in one lined status updates and beautiful photos. No more links to important interesting articles that later in the day cause children to tug at my skirts, wondering why their Mummy is staring off into space instead of playing with them?

Most importantly, I've actually started to nurture friendships again, visiting and calling people instead of just checking their page so I'm up with all their news- both voyeuristic and also leading to the false assumption that this is having a relationship with someone.
(And if you are a local and reading this, not having had a phone call from me recently- I'll get to you too!)

Household clutter and abundant possessions were my next targets and this is a work in progress. I'll keep you updated. The current tally is- 6 bags straight to the bins, 5 bags and 2 boxes to charity stores.

The possession purging began just one month ago and I can honestly say that for that whole month my husband has come home to a spotless house (yes, every day!), I've kept up with the housework as well as completing odd jobs from long forgotten 'to-do' lists and I've been a calmer, happier wife and mother.

Having the house in order and being up to date with my work has enabled me to pursue my hobbies from time to time without guilt. Also, I've been making all of our bread from home for 3 weeks now very easily and it has been no added burden. (I'll do a post for that soon, because cheaper, healthier bread for 10 minutes each week is worth sharing- no bread-making machine needed!).

The final area of bondage that I am currently freeing myself from is watching television (Watch out! Now I'm getting crazy!).

Now I've only been television free for 5 days, but I've been having the best time! I've sewn, knitted, read (lots of really enjoyable Bible reading too), listened to preaching cd's long forgotten that really blessed me, worked on some hooping tricks and nailed a couple that are seriously impressive, gotten WAY more sleep, enjoyed my husband's and my evenings together WAY more and the added unexpected side effect that my lack of exposure to the silliness of tv show hosts and dumb advertising means I'm ticked off less. Woohoo!

I should add that I am currently only giving up television for Lent, but I could be a convert yet. ;)

All of this to say that I am not anti-Facebook, or anti-possessions, or anti-television. I was simply overburdened with life.

I felt rushed all of the time for no single reason I could pinpoint. My mind was so busy that when someone talked to me (or said 'Mum! Mum! Mum!' whilst tugging my skirt) I often felt like covering my ears. I felt bombarded with information, decisions that needed to be made NOW, the need-need-need of small children and an endless line of mostly menial tasks that stretched from my eyeballs to the back of my head.

Now, about 2 months after I started to change some things, just slowly, day by day, my world is much different. I enjoy my babies. I am (mostly!) able to be in the moment and enjoy Eli's every smile, and the fact that EVERY. SINGLE. THING. Cassandra says in her tiny little voice is CUTE. Flipping cute in fact. (She calls butterflies 'bladder-blies', I mean COME ON, pay attention Mama!)

My house is a pleasant place to be. I don't freak out on days when Stephen takes the car to work because the state of our house no longer induces stress.

I am more fun. For Stephen and for the kids.

And did I mention I was getting more sleep???

I will keep you updated on my tv-free exploits and share my current bread recipe/process sometime soon.

My Poppa was darn right. Totally on the money.

The Aftermath

2011-02-17T13:21:00.003+10:00

A few months ago a maintenance man came to our house to fix a door. Cass was so fascinated, she wanted to follow him everywhere and it was hard work keeping her out from under his feet!

For the next few days, it was all she could talk about. 'Mum! Dee man fixed dee door!'

'Yes Sweetie, he did.'

'I like dee man Mummy. I want to cuggle dee man.' And on and on it went.

A few days later, as I tucked her in to bed she lay looking at the ceiling.

'Dee man fixed dee door Mum.'

'Yes Cass.'

'Dee man fixed dee light too.'

'No sweety, the man only fixed the door.'

But she kept pointing at the light bulb in her bedroom ceiling and remained adamant. The man DID fix the light. Suddenly a light switched on in my head.

He did. That very same maintenance man came and fixed the light fitting when the previous one got fried in a storm (or something. I can barely remember).

This happened when Cass was 12 months old, the same age as my crawling goo-ing baby Eli. She is currently a few months off 3, so this happened more than a year and half ago and I could barely remember. I do recall that she was equally fascinated with him back then though.

Stephen and I marveled over that story together later that night, but we naturally assume that a toddler wouldn't remember being a baby when we have no evidence to the contrary. Of course we can't remember being a baby ourselves, but we are much further removed in time than she is.

I've heard similar stories to mine since that happened as I spoke of it among my friends. I also remember reading Sarah Buckley's book Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering, in which she recounts a few special stories of her kids sharing their early memories. (One remembered her umbilical cord being cut.)

One thing is clear to me. Despite the fact that they can't communicate with us, babies are very sensitive creatures.

This brings me to my story from today.

Earlier this morning I was responding to a post on a forum I frequent about CIO (cry-it-out) sleep training. I was trying to convey my feelings on the topic, and I still hope I worded things correctly. I was asked why I felt that it was such a big mistake that I 'trained' Cass to sleep through the night using CIO methods when she was an infant.

Here is how I responded:

Just based on my opinion that it is a downright cruel thing to do to a baby. I can't believe God gave me a precious infant who came to me vulnerable and trusting in me to take care of her needs and I neglected them just because a book told me it was the right thing to do. My instincts were against it (I cried as much as she did!) but I didn't listen because of the 'wisdom' I had been told I could trust.

God in His infinite wisdom gave us a perfect system for mothering. We have arms that can rock babies (and we all know they are comforted by that) and breasts that, toward the end of a breastfeed put out 'sleepy' hormones for the baby to lull it to sleep. Our very nature teaches us that mothers are made to comfort and soothe our babies. The reaction we have to the sound of our baby crying is also inbuilt- it is to encourage us to pick that baby up and see to it's needs! However, we in our very worldly wisdom have 'better' ways! Of course CIO works! The scientific term for how it works is called 'learned helplnessness'. The baby gets the repeated message that no one is coming so it gives up on calling out. How terrible!

Have you ever seen or heard of babies and children in orphanages in the developing world? They suffer terribly because they are often left in cots to cry, through the day and the night. They become so damaged that they get something called Reactive Attachement Disorder or RAD. It breaks my heart that a human being can become so damaged! I've followed a few blogs of people who have adopted children with RAD. Praise God, many of these stories show how God can bring about healing and restoration! Nonetheless, the suffering endured is terrible!

I think that the only reason our children get through CIO 'sleep-training' okay and still have good relationships with their parents is because they get PLENTY of love and looking after in between sleep times.

Still, it sends a very mixed message to a child that you will meet it's needs some of the time and not others. Especially when that child is a completely dependent infant whose natural environment is his mother.

I determined to die to myself (isn't that what mothering is?) in regards to sleep needs with Eli, and raise him to understand that his mother WILL be there for him always (just like I hope to teach him about his Father God), not just some of the time. He is a much more secure and happy baby. I wouldn't say that I have a bad relationship with Cass, or that we haven't bonded, but I would say that CIO DID damage our relationship and most likely damaged Cass in some small way. There was so much anxiety surrounding sleep when Cass was a baby, but with Eli there have been challenges, but no anxiety.

He sleeps through the night now. He is very contented in his cot. And I've learned that as far as sleep is concerned, I don't have to trust in the natural (ie. I need x many hours to function etc), but trust in God! He HAS supplied all my needs! Energy, patience- the lot! I have grown spiritually more in this year that Eli has been 'sleep-training' ME than at any other point, because my trust was in God, in His design for mothering, and in His faithfulness to bring me through.

A baby's needs are very simple really, and praise God, we have the tools to meet them!

(I'm sorry if this came on really strong, but I do feel very strongly about this!)

It was after writing this that my Cass wandered out of the bedroom all bleary eyed from her nap. My heart was raw from writing the above and I asked her if I could just cuddle her. She consented happily.

While holding her I thought to ask: 'Cassandra? You know how Eli goes to bed all happy like a baby? Do you remember going to sleep when you were a baby?'

'Mmm Hmm.' (That's a yes with her thumb in her mouth.)

'Did you go to sleep all happy like Eli?'

She removed the thumb. 'No. I just go to sleep scared.' (For the record, she currently uses the word 'scared' for any negative emotion, although she uses it when she is clearly scared too. She doesn't use 'sad' or 'angry' or anything else yet.)

'Really? Why?'

She didn't respond, so I asked again. 'Why did you go to sleep scared when you were a little baby?'

She took awhile to respond again but then came back with, 'Because you didn't pick me up.'

Which just about broke my heart.

I felt like crying, but knew that it wasn't the right time. I asked her forgiveness and told her over and over that Mama would always try to be there for her in the future and tried to speak to her about the nature of God and His faithfulness toward us. I don't always speak plainly to Cass as I don't know how much a 2-almost-3-year-old brain takes in, but I know it's more than I ever thought it was! And then I prayed that God would heal Cass and heal our relationship.

I still feel raw.

So yes. That is my story about how I think sleep training can affect a child, and also how it can affect a mother.

Also, to this day, often when I leave a room with Cass in it, even if she can still see me, she will occasionally yell, 'Mama! Don't leave me!'. She's been doing that ever since she had the words to.

But once upon a time she didn't have the words, and all she could do was cry.

A Lot Can Happen In A Year....

2011-01-31T18:20:00.002+10:00

My little boy went from this

to this

"Can you put my boy on my lap here Mum?"

Happy Birthday Elisha!

Oh my boy. My beautiful boy. It was really hard to imagine going from one child to two when I was pregnant, because you just can't fathom the love you have for your firstborn being shared or doubled or whatever happens to it. It's still a mystery to me how my heart can possibly fit all this love in it.

We had a party yesterday with just our immediate families at the park and the kids had a great time. They really are very spoiled children. So many adults around them who think they're the bees knees.

Here are a few photos from the party.

The cupcakes I made. The 'happy' was sabotaged by a sneaky toddler finger

Playing on the playground

Playing 'peek-a-boo' with their Nannie (my mum) through the slats

Eli's first taste of sugary goodness did not impress him. He decided it wasn't food and used it to pat icing on the table instead.

Thanks to everyone for a wonderful party and thank you Eli for a wonderful year!

My Handsome Men

2011-01-24T07:03:00.000+10:00

"So, are you 'done'?"

2011-01-22T11:12:00.003+10:00

"How many are you going to have?"

"You're so lucky to have a girl and a boy straight off, you can stop now!"

These are the three most common things said to me in relation to my family size.

Once upon a time I'm sure reproduction was simple. I mean, we all know where babies come from right? They arrived, about 9 months after a simple act of bonding between husband and wife, without input from other members of their family, their friends or community members.

Nowadays it seems like babies are everyone's business. And everyone has an opinion. That doesn't surprise me, after all, I have some pretty strong opinions on baby-making myself. What surprises me is that everyone is so willing to give their opinions. Often to perfect strangers!

I am constantly perplexed by these questions when I am out in public, and usually totally stumped as to how to answer.

"Wow, you've got your hands full!" Is another one I hear often, usually quite sympathetically delivered. I have an answer for that statement!

"Better full than empty!" I reply, hugging my sling-riding Eli and trying to put across the message that I do not require kindly meant sympathy, as I do not hold to the view that small children are burdensome.

But as to questions of reproduction and family size I usually smile politely, giving a non-committal answer.

Having given this issue a good going over with some of my friends, most people I've talked to agree that these are all very rude questions. This is especially true of the questions childless couples get. I can't imagine the pain of hearing 'So when are you going to start your family?' repeatedly, if I were part of a couple struggling to conceive.

This is one of the drawbacks of our contraceptive culture. We have assumed control (in our minds and plans at least) and as a society are still holding up the false reality that those who don't want babies can avoid them and those that do can get them.

I mean to say, most people will admit to knowing at least one person who had an unwanted pregnancy while on birth control, or another who tried to fall pregnant only to find out she couldn't. We know women who've fallen pregnant on their first rotation of IVF, and couples who've exhausted all of their resources on fertility treatment and ended up adopting instead. If push comes to shove, we are forced to admit- we have no control. We can certainly tweak the circumstances, but when it comes to eggs and sperm and uteri, it's a hidden world, a secret place where miracles happen, loss occurs, life begins and ultimately, it's all in God's hands.

So with this reverence and extreme awe that I hold for the miracle of life, and my own happy and gratefully received opportunities to be a vessel for bringing forth that life; I find it difficult to give answers to questions born out of a worldview that I just don't understand.

What about you? Do you mind these types of questions? Are they rude? How do you answer?

Butterfly Fun

2011-01-19T16:13:00.003+10:00

I've been experimenting with gingerbread and royal icing creations for a little while now. Some of you may remember a terrible terrible first attempt at a gingerbread house 2 Christmases ago. I'm not going to link to it, because it's just embarrassing. If you're dedicated enough to go through my archives to find it, let me tell you- it's so not worth it.

Anyway, my efforts have progressed since then and it's now my thing to make one for loved ones on special occasions. I have lots of 'things' now. This is one of the more publicly acceptable ones.

So- here is the one I made two weeks ago for my sister's birthday.

And here is her holding it.

And speaking of butterflies, this same lovely sister bought Cass some wings for Christmas that are getting a lot of love. Cass doesn't know what a fairy is and calls herself a butterfly girl when she wears them.

Here she is wearing the wings.

Now, butterflies are pretty small things, and you may have never looked close enough to see what one's face looks like. So Cassandra has had a crack at demonstrating, just for you.

Umm...no....clooose.

Theeere you go Cass. Nailed it.

The only other thing new around our house is that our Cass has taken to walking about holding two square Duplo on her chest and yelling 'Mum! Block boobies!' periodically. She gets it from Stephen.

Rounding Out the Year

2011-01-01T18:58:00.003+10:00

Today is the last day of 2011 and my littlest baby is now eleven months old.

In just 4 weeks he will turn one! My how fast this year has gone.

The end of Eli's first year has a certain feel to it, just like when Cass was almost 1. I feel sort of in the same place. I've just gotten back to my pre-pregnancy weight, same as last time. I'm feeling fit and like my body is it's old self again.

I am beginning to feel more organized and full of 'can-do'. I feel like I'm not just keeping my head above water anymore, but really enjoying my kids.

The first year of a baby's life is hard work. Beautiful, awe-inspiring, transforming and rewarding, no doubt, but there's no escaping that it is very hard work. It is, however, MUCH better the second time around.

Part of that was Eli's beautiful birth and all that followed (no trauma to recover from and an easy start to breastfeeding and a joyful bonding experience). But mostly it's a new confidence (also partly attributable to his awesome birth that healed me) that propelled me into my motherhood journey in a new way, with a new sense of purpose.

I had so many doubts in Cass' first year of life. Doubts about myself, my ability to mother, my worthiness to raise a tiny soul and fears that my lifelong dream of being a mother had been misguided.

However this year has been full of tremendous growth, both mentally and spiritually. God has really put a fire in my heart and rekindled old dreams of mine. I know who I am and why I'm here, with a fierceness that is new to me.

I'm really excited about the year to come. Hopefully we'll be able to move house and get more organised. I can't wait to see my little people change and grow and surprise me every day. I look forward to celebrating my fourth wedding anniversary with Stephen in April. We also turn 25 this year, which is exciting and scary! Scary because I remember turning 20 very recently, which means that 30 is around the corner I guess. ;)

My only resolution for the year, one I expect I'll make every year, is to die to myself a little more each day. Pouring my life out for my family for the glory of God is my goal.

Slightly random shot. Cass is in a stage where she refuses to be photographed, so I have very few recent shots and they all catch her by surprise.

Wishing you all a very happy New Year! (And a belated Merry Christmas too! I spent mine puking, later passing the tummy bug on to my poor brother-in-law, but thankfully everyone else has avoided it!)

Here is Eli a few days ago. He surprised us by being interested in walking without a parent attached (he normally has a death grip on your hands when he totters about.) Stephen has consented to being posted on my blog in this video too ;)

Lessons from Classic Movies: Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

2010-11-12T18:14:00.006+10:00

Hello all- I've been delving into classic movies (especially musicals) for the past few weeks and have actually been learning a lot through them. I thought I'd share a few bits and bobs here and there with you.
I started watching classics due to two things:
Firstly- I walked into my local video rental store and saw this movie and accompanying posters everywhere being promoted. I was immediately weary of popular entertainment. I went straight to the classics section and grabbed a few movies I had heard of but never seen.
The second reason is a desire to see if there's anything I've 'missed out' on, simply because of my age. I've quickly realised, there definitely is! So without further ado, here is...

Lessons learned from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

For those who haven't seen it, here is a brief plot summary.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers is a story set in 1850 in an Oregon frontier town. Allan Pontinby is a back-woodsman, unshaven and uncooth, and heads into town to trade and find a wife. That afternoon he heads home with his new wife, Milly, whom he conveniently forgot to tell that he has 6 younger brothers living with him. The film is a musical and a comedy and I laughed so hard and loved it every step of the way for it's outrageous-ness. (Stephen ended up conceding that it was a good movie too which is a rare concession indeed considering he doesn't even watch musicals, except for Sweeney Todd which he convinced me to see because of my love of musicals. But that's another story. Which ends in me not eating even a vegan pie again for a long long time. But I digress.)

One of the best things about this movie for me was that it was set in the days when men were men and women were women. That is also one of the motivators for me watching classic movies I think. So much beautiful femininity and handsome masculinity.

The main lesson I took from this was from the lovely Milly, a hard-working woman and a really good wife and 'older sister' to her new family.

When she first arrives at her new house she is introduced to her new brothers and quickly comes to learn that she will be responsible for their care. She is given a whirlwind tour of her new residence, goats and chickens being cleared out of their way as they go; not to mention a tumbling brawl between several brothers part way through; and then is left with a very messy kitchen. The tour ends with 'And this is the dinner bell, you can ring it when supper is ready.' from her new husband before he rather hastily departs.

Then comes my favourite part of the whole movie. Milly has a moments pause, then with great energy pushes up her sleeves and gets to work.

The first time I saw that moment I just wanted to cheer for her. I think I might even have said something out loud like: 'Oh you fantastic woman you!'. (I generally do not converse with the television. :) )

I am fairly certain that if I had found myself in that situation I would have done the exact opposite. That is, I would probably have sat down and had a really good wah-wah. I probably would not have thought it was even slightly unreasonable. (Although I should say that I really don't condone the way she was hood-winked.)

It's the fact that she had a hard-working attitude. The fact that, although this was so SO not what she expected, not for once did she complain about her lot, moving straight on to do her duty as a wife. (And I don't want to hear any feminist argument about that last sentence. It was 1850. Cooking and cleaning for a house of men WAS her duty.)

But most of all, it's the fact that she was embodying the following scripture- the scripture that is often dearest to my heart- the scripture that is on my bedroom wall so it's the first thing I see in the morning and lastly, the scripture that I often feel so far from embodying myself.

Do everything without complaining and arguing, so that no one can criticize you. Live clean, innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people. Phillipians 2:14,15 (NLT)

How I wish to do everything without complaining.

I 'roll up my sleeves' a lot in life these days. When I am falling asleep in my chair reading to Cass in the early afternoon and know I have to get going to prepare dinner. When Eli is crying in the night again and ignoring him is not an option (it never is, just for the record). When, back in the day, I'd discover that Cass had gotten her nappy off and painted her poop everywhere. A very literal sleeve-rolling might have occurred on such an occasion.

However probably the biggest time I had to roll up my sleeves was when Cass was born. We'd been home from hospital for around 3 days. I was still very traumatised by her birth and really struggling to breastfeed and feeling like a failure for both the traumatic birth and the breastfeeding struggle. Trying to cope with those feelings was difficult, but around day 3, the relentlessness hit me. This baby needed me. Day, night, all the time, around the clock. I would never 'clock off' ever again (or so I thought at the time). The newborn period is very intense and does pass, but it can be quite shocking the first time around.

I remember leaning against my kitchen bench, head hanging down between my arms at roughly 3am after soothing Cass back to sleep, feeling that this was not what I was expecting and thinking: 'This is it. This baby is here now. You can't 'undo' becoming a parent. So. What now?' and I mentally rolled up those sleeves and embraced all that was to come.

Now it's everyday things that I struggle to embrace. Do that washing up or sit and have a cup of tea? It's much easier to let the small things fall by the way-side, but I think they matter.

This movie got a few other thoughts brewing, but they're still mulling and best left till another time I think. Such a great movie and a keeper.

Not a Morning Person

2010-11-05T18:04:00.002+10:00

Let the following stand as a record that on this day, I have made the prediction that my Cassandra is not a morning person.

Here is how she often eats her breakfast.

A few days ago we were all sitting down and eating our breakfast together. I looked up at her and gave her a smile.

'Don't look at me Mum! Just eat your breakfast!' she responded, rudely jabbing her peanut-buttery little finger at my toast and frowning at me.

'Pardon me??' I asked in surprise.

She repeated herself, this time more angrily.

I don't think I handled it like I should have. I managed to get something out that was vaguely about her not talking to me in such a rude way, then had to spend the rest of breakfast muffling my incredulous laughter.

So when I greet her with a sunny 'Good Morning' when she one day emerges from her bedroom as a ruffled and grumpy teenager at the start of each day and receive a squinty-eyed look and a grunt; I will be able to tell her that I knew about her grumpy-morning ways from very early on.

Now the only question I want answered is: if she is so grumpy in the mornings, why on earth does she insist on getting up at 5am??

Nestle-Free Week- why join in?

2010-11-03T10:40:00.000+10:00

I personally boycott Nestle all year round, but this is just a brief post about why I think it's important to join in.

Firstly, here is a link to the Baby Food Action Network website, wherein you can learn about the 'why' of the boycott. If you feel really gung-ho about learning more, please consider reading 'The Politics of Breastfeeding' by Gabrielle Palmer, from which you can learn about the truly awful business of infant illness and death for financial gain.

When I first began to boycott businesses (I have quite a list going now; please take a moment to feel some sympathy for my husband- apparently being married to me is at times exhausting), it seemed overwhelming to contemplate the changes I would have to make in my own life and purchasing habits. I mean, have you even seen how big a list of businesses make up the Nestle empire? That's one mighty big list!

After a great deal of reading and then thinking, it became quite simple. Here is the motivation for me to boycott in a nutshell:

A large and powerful company practices in an unethical manner that causes human suffering. I live in a country where I have better sanitation and access to health care, information and education that enables me to avoid the same suffering that is endured in other parts of the world. I also, as a consumer, have the power to send a message, however small, to a company whose practices I disagree with by not purchasing their products.

In the face of all that suffering and corruption, when all it really comes down to for me is choosing between two (or three or 12) products, all of which I can easily afford and purchase and access from my very privileged position in this world that is really only a happy geographical accident- how could I not??

He saves the needy from the sword in their mouth;
He saves them from the clutches of the powerful.

So the poor have hope,
and injustice shuts its mouth. Job 5:15-16

A home for fleas, a hive for the buzzing bees!

2010-11-03T10:38:00.000+10:00

It has now been approximately one year since I made the decision to never go to a hairdresser again.

I have to say, I've never loved my hair more than I do at the moment! Mr. Husband took this photo yesterday of me running and I was SERIOUSLY impressed with my hair in this shot.

When I am still, my hair is noticeably different lengths with straggly ends and looks quite damaged and dry. However, right now I am more at peace with my hair than at any other stage in my life.

I am not sure if I will never cut my hair again (my sister is handy with scissors and I may get her to trim it one day), but for now and in the near future, I don't think I'll be allowing any scissors near it.

It has been very freeing for me to have made this decision. For starters, over the course of the year I've stopped using product or my straightener and really started appreciating my hair the way God made it. I can say with complete honesty that never in my entire life (since I was conscious of my hair that is) have I been satisfied with the way God made my hair until now.

Here are some of the reasons I made the decision to not cut my hair again.

I've been trying to grow my hair for years and years, but my slow growing hair cannot keep up when it gets regular trims (even twice yearly trims remove the small amount of hair that has managed to grow in that time)

Around the time of me making the decision I was watching lots of old movies and realised that perfectly straight and neat ends were a really recent trend. People didn't mind raggedy ends in times past.

I have never, NEVER left the hairdressers satisfied with what they have done to my hair. The last three trims I received, I gave very blunt and specific instructions to the hairdresser about my desires and each time they did something wrong. (Mostly just took too much length off and told me my hair 'needed' it.)

I desired to do what I wanted with my hair instead of doing what I didn't want in order to not stand out. My whole life I've aimed to not stand out, but more recently, I just don't care if I get looked at for any and all reasons.

Just last week I saw the musical Hair for the first time. (Where had it been my whole life???) I thought I'd post the title song from it, because I love it so much. I think whenever I start to get cranky at my hair and think about chopping it off I'll watch this again. It will set me straight :)

Some changes.

2010-11-03T10:32:00.003+10:00

I had the hair-brained scheme a few weeks back to start a second blog.

I wanted to blog about my non-mothering specific passions in a place apart from my posts about mothering, due to my previous experience of being attacked over my opinions on this blog. Also, I wasn't sure if some of my fruitier ideas would be of interest to the current readers of this blog.

However, obviously I haven't really got the time to keep one blog regularly updated, much less two- so I've decided to combine them both, renaming this one after the other blog, which I will be deleting (Somewhat Dirty Hippy Blog). I'll try to keep my posts balanced, and hopefully it will still be of some interest to people!

The next two posts that pop up today are just the ones I'm importing that I'd written so far for my other blog. Enjoy! Or throw sticks, whatever works for you ;)

Oh How They Weedle Their Way into Our Lives.

2010-10-08T13:20:00.002+10:00

Lately I have been finding myself thinking of times past- a visit to a park with Stephen, or a nice day trip somewhere, and subconsciously inserting my children into those memories. I will say to Stephen 'Hey, do you remember when we (insert fond memory here)? How old was Eli then?'.
Stephen will reply, 'Eli wasn't around back then.' This always throws me as I order my thoughts and realise that perhaps, I wasn't even pregnant with him when the event occured. Sometimes, I am so lost in time that I insert my children into a memory in which I was not even a mother yet.

It is as though I can no longer recall not having these two in my life.

As early as one week after Eli had born, I had adjusted to our 'new' family and wondered how I had ever lived without my Elisha.

This then gives way to the magical thought: Are there other family members that I am currently not missing who will also make me feel this way? Like a person born blind cannot miss the gift of sight, will I again be gifted with a solid, warm wriggler who arrives into my arms and makes some part of me sigh and say 'Welcome home darling, we were waiting for you. You belong.'?

I get a delicious shiver just thinking about it.

Children are indeed a reward from Him. A reward for what, I am uncertain. I am sure there is nothing I have done in this life to deserve the sweetness I encounter daily.

Here's How My Garden Grows!

2010-09-27T11:19:00.003+10:00

I planted a very little vegetable patch a few months ago at the bottom of my lawn- the only place that gets a scant 4 hours of dappled sunlight. Unsure of whether much would grow there (although the soil was rich, dark and full of worms, I discovered to my delight) I started out small.

Just a 1 square metre patch. In the back row are two little snow pea plants and one cherry tomato. The middle row is four tea plants- peppermint, chamomile, lemon myrtle and pineapple sage. The front row is a perennial coriander and two Lebanese zucchinis.

Everything took off fairly well and I gained more confidence- shifting things about and pulling out a few plants when it became clear that they wouldn't all fit.

Here is a photo I took last weekend, just before I decided to expand my plot.

You can see I pulled out most of the tea and put in a new little kale plant. I love kale!

Now here is my garden after the expansion.

Forgive the quality of this one, it was taken at dusk just after I'd watered the new plants in.

I have been really enjoying watching my plants grow and caring for them! My favourite moments these days are spent weeding and caring for my little plot whilst Cass and Eli play outdoors. Although, I believe I should be paying Eli a little more attention when I am doing so, judging by the grass that keeps turning up in his dirty nappies. Oops.

And now Spring is here! We had a week of rainfall that resulted in some lovely new growth and a pleasing surprise when I ventured outside yesterday to check out my plants.

My first little cherry tomatoes

An itty-bitty zucchini!

The first-fruits are here! Now all I have to do is hide them from Cass' notice before they ripen ready for picking!

Oh Elisha, My Love.

2010-09-15T18:23:00.002+10:00

Sorry it's been so quiet around here! I'm still in survival mode, but starting to think about things beyond just keeping us all well fed and in clean clothes. Isn't that nice?

I've got lots and lots of things on my mind, but I'll ease back into the blogging bit by bit, so it isn't too overwhelming to contemplate.

Today I shall speak to you of my love for my first born son.

Here he is (this photo taken last week) thinking about crawling, for which I am not prepared. Hear that baby? MUM IS NOT READY FOR YOU TO CRAWL.

Anywho, my Elisha is a delight.

I have never ever known such a happy happy baby. Right now he is cutting 3 teeth and I can only tell because I can see them poking through. Otherwise, he doesn't seem the least bit concerned.

I could go on and on about his many delightful characteristics, but because neither of his doting grandmothers read this blog, I'm pretty sure it will be wasted.

I will instead list the only two things that are (so far) imperfect about him (to me). The first is the sleep thing. He totally stinks at the sleep thing. Oh well. Luckily, God is using this to teach me. Sleep deprivation has taught me quite a few very valuable things.

Firstly, I have really really had to rely on God to be my strength during the day. Secondly, I was struggling to enjoy my children because of the tiredness, but God taught me how to fight for my joy.

The most profound way He taught me was late one night when I was getting up to Eli once again (for the 5th time, or whatever) and I was just filled with anger and frustration and a deep need to cry, but couldn't cry, knowing it would do no good. At that moment God spoke in my spirit 'This isn't suffering, this is joy.'

It really struck my heart, because even though I would never put it in actual words that I felt like I was suffering, that was how I was acting. And He was so right. From that night on, whenever I've brought Eli in to feed, I've been able to thank God for his warm little body tucked into mine; my heart filled with peace.

My second complaint is his size. It's a small complaint really, but he is just so so massive and I struggle to carry him in my arms for more than 5 minutes at a time. And, you know, babies like to be held for more than 5 minutes at a time. This is getting better as he begins to hold up some of his own weight, and also as he becomes more mobile and happier to play next to me on the ground or sit on my lap.

That's all- apart from that he's a complete angel. (For now! I'm sure he'll turn 2 at some point, like all children tend to do.)

Oh, and do you remember this post? The one in which I compared photos of 3 months old Elisha with his father at 3 months?

Well my mother in law came over on the weekend and brought some pictures of Stephen at 7 months to show me. All I can say is FAR OUT. They are so very similar!!

Here is a photo of my boy.

And here is a photo of my Stephen.

Even their hair is the same.

I asked Stephen if he was flattered that God thought He'd done such a nice job on Stephen that He just copied and pasted. Hee hee.

I hope you're all well! I will be posting again soon. I'm having all sorts of fun this Spring with my vegetable patch- I will share some photos with you all soon!

A Day With a Toddler

2010-08-17T16:19:00.002+10:00

Cass' first year was a rough one for me, but when she hit about 15 months I said to my mother: 'No one can prepare you for what having a baby is like, but this age, this is how I imagined being a mother would be like.' And as time has gone on it's been more of the same for me- parenting a toddler is such a blast! Sure there's tears, tantrums and frustration (and two-year-old molars. Aaargh!), but the joy, oh the joy!

So I've compiled a small list of things that have happened in the day to day parenting of my Cass in the last 24 hours so that you might share the fun too! Enjoy!
(Also, none of the photos are related, chronological, or from the last 24 hours, but you have to admit- she's cute!)

I've been video-recording the kids a bit lately (to make up for the fact that I kind of forgot to record any of Eli's first 6 months. Oops.) and yesterday afternoon Cass asked me fairly clearly (I was pretty unsure of my instructions, but she set me straight along the way) to videotape her eating a banana. Seriously. I double-checked as we set up.
I fetched her a banana and she sat at the bench and ate her banana on film. I tried to get her to talk or sing or interact with the camera, but she wouldn't. So I have about one minute of quite ordinary banana eating footage on our video camera now. After she was done she asked to see herself eating the banana on the camera. She watched it without comment and when it was done she wandered away, apparently satisfied.

Whenever I attend to Eli these days Cass will often disappear and become silent. If I use a firm tone and call her back to me when I get suspicious, she reappears, but I LOVE finding out what mischief she has gotten into in the evening when she is asleep!
Last night as I climbed into bed I was desperately tired and almost asleep already as I pulled back the covers and slipped in only to find I now shared my bed with Cass' entire (very large, but thankfully dry!) bath toy collection. They were all neatly tucked in under the sheets- very cozy; but Mum, Dad and one HUGE spread-eagled 6 month old is more than enough bed-sharing for our tiny double bed.

Early this morning as I was getting Cass dressed she squealed with excitement 'Mummy!!' pointing at the wall. I couldn't tell what she was pointing at until from behind her heater crawled a big big ugly cockroach. I'm not afraid of cockroaches, so I wasn't worried about projecting a fear onto her as I calmly said: 'Yes bubby, that's a cockroach.'
'Cock-wauch' she tried out the word.
'Yes honey, it's a cockroach.' I repeated.
'Me tiss cock-wauch?'
'You want to kiss the cockroach??' I repeated her again, just to make sure I had heard correctly.
'Yes!!' nodding enthusiastically.
'Honey we don't kiss cockroaches, they don't like being kissed.'

Around lunch-time today my friend Rachel visited. (the dark haired bridesmaid from the photo in this post). Rachel has been living in Japan, teaching kindergartners English and being generally awesome, so Cass hasn't seen her much at all. I told her Rachel was coming today though and refreshed her memory by looking through the photo albums with her.
Rachel arrived when Cass was sleeping, so when she woke up and heard voices from the lounge room I told her Rachel was here. She replied with a bounce and a grin: 'Me cuggle Rachel?'
'Sure', I said, 'as long as you're not too shy.'
When we went out to see her, Cass wouldn't let me put her down and she kept saying something that we couldn't understand until I realised it was 'Too shy!!'
She got over her shyness quickly though when she realised that Rachel is awesome, and drew her a picture of herself with pigtails.

I was going to share a story from the afternoon of some toilet-training adventures, because, let's face it- it wouldn't be a very honest picture of any 24 hour period in this house if it didn't involve poo. However, assuming you are not even half as interested as I am in my daughters bowels, I'll make a long story very short and say that after two weeks of pooping in undies due to fear caused by a tummy bug with diarrhea that made her regress, I was patient and encouraging (but mostly persistent and I bribed the heck out of her) and she ended up doing her business on the potty!! And then in the bath at night she ASKED me to use the toilet for another poop and did it! Okay, so I admit that wasn't very short as promised, but I did spare you all the gory details. (Poop all the way up my arm. Oh yes!)

That's just a small peek into the fun and joy I get to experience every day! It's passing so quickly and I really feel it slipping through my fingers at the moment, but I'm so glad I have another who'll be at that most awesome stage soon enough!

Happy Half-Birthday Eli!

2010-08-02T09:56:00.003+10:00

My Elisha James turned six months old on Saturday! Congratulations all around! Now where can I get myself a glass of wine?

It’s been a busy busy busy 6 months. Possibly 6 of the hardest months of my life. Definitely 6 of the most joyful. I am currently sleep-deprived beyond words, but more on that another time.

Eli is the happiest baby I have ever met. I am so thankful and filled with joy every morning when I see his happy face grinning at me. He is a blessing to all of us. Cass loves him and he loves her. They warm my heart with their interactions daily.

Eli is also really placid. I was sure that he wouldn't be sitting for some weeks, as he's just so floppy and uninterested in trying, but a few days ago; as though he knew that 6 months was coming up, he started trying and I think he'll have it sorted pretty soon. He also spent the week of his half-birthday cutting his first two teeth. Even in this he is jolly. I think his amber teething necklace is really helping, but I'm sure at least some of it is his contented nature.

My own personal celebration (fitting in with this being World Breastfeeding Week quite nicely) is achieving my goal of 6 months of exclusive breastfeeding. No bottles, no pumping and no formula.

I still have so many regrets about Cass' infancy that I am working through. The traumatic birth, which led to breastfeeding difficulties, bonding difficulties and an ability to parent counter-instinctively. Cass was not breastfed exclusively for 6 months. She only had a maximum of 5 bottles, the rest of the time she was breastfed, but still. I don't care about the formula, in the grand scheme of things, it probably didn't do her much harm. What I do regret is all the tears, all the doubts, all the guilt. So this time around I wanted to do things my way from the start- the way that is right for us- not following any book or parenting philosophy.

It's been such a joy. I had the privilege and joy of giving birth to Eli naturally at home- who was then alert and capable of latching beautifully and instinctively. Since then I've demand fed him. There were no weekly weighings- no charts- no counting feeds, or nappies, or feed lengths. He has thrived.
Perhaps a little too well....I've yet to weigh him, but he is seriously doing my back in at the moment. He is wearing clothes that Cass wore at 10 months, and trust me when I say that she was no light-weight herself!

Dear little Eli,
You've turned our family upside down and inside out. None of us are the same as we were before you came along. Sometimes I look at you and think I might struggle to breathe, as my love for you overwhelms me. You are a precious precious gift, and I promise to cherish you all the days of my life. You and your sister fill my days with joy, laughter and love.
Always,
Your Mama.

God Speaks to Me Through a Quiche.

2010-07-22T12:24:00.003+10:00

Last night I cooked a meal for my husband that he literally could not choke down. This is the first time that’s happened in the 3 years that we’ve been married.

I’ve been working my way through some vegan cook-books and came across a recipe for a tofu quiche. It seemed a bit far-out, compared with the way we normally eat (not a lot of tofu or soy products), but it was nutritionally pretty amazing and the book it had come from hadn’t steered me wrong yet, so I decided to have a go.

There was a fair bit of prep involved, so I started early in the day- planning to cook it around lunch time and then re-heat it for dinner.

My mother came visiting in the afternoon and enquired about it, because it looked okay, and she is mostly vegan too. I sent her home with a piece to try.

Later that afternoon she called me back. ‘Lauren, I just thought I’d let you know that Stephen probably won’t like this meal.’

‘Yes, I know Mum. He’s not a tofu fan, but he does really like broccoli and mushrooms, so, you know.’

‘No Lauren,’ she paused. ‘It’s really bad.’

‘Oh.’

And ouch.

So when it came time for Cass’ dinner, (she currently eats earlier than us because she goes to bed at 5.30pm these days and Stephen isn’t home till after 6pm.) I was pretty wary. She seemed to eat a fair amount of it though without complaint. I remained hopeful. (When cleaning up her bowl later I realised that she had rather skilfully just consumed the pastry and none of the filling.)

At around 7pm, it was my turn. Stephen was at university till late, so I was eating alone. I told myself it was good for me and plunged in.

I had to eat the entire thing holding my nose and sipping juice in between bites. Now I am NOT a fussy person. I eat pretty much everything. I call myself an ‘equal opportunity eater’ because I really can’t think of many things I wouldn’t eat. (Stephen says this isn’t true, because of the no-meat, no-dairy thing, but I just tell him I don’t view meat and dairy as actual food. He usually rolls his eyes at that.)

It. Was. Awful.

So I started sending Stephen texts on my mobile, warning him that he probably wasn’t going to like dinner, and I’m sorry, but you’re going to come home all cold and hungry and be disappointed by your food.
He sent back some sweet consoling messages. I tried further to make my point that I wasn’t being humble. It really was bad.

Anyway, once he was finally home, he made himself up a plate of vegies and reheated the quiche. I was very anxious, and actually hid. I didn’t want to see his face. I heard him take a bite and then, silence.

I was deeply upset. I felt like crying. I was so surprised by the strength of my reaction.

Part of it was sleep-deprivation, but I am aware now that the larger part comes from my wounded pride.

You see, I know that I am following God’s call on my life to be a home-maker. One of my deepest desires is to love, comfort and nourish my family. What I didn’t know was how much personal pride I had invested in that image of myself that I held in my heart. Caring for my family does come from a place of wanting to serve God by taking care of the great blessing (my husband and children) that He has given me, but I wasn’t aware until now that I was prideful about my cooking abilities and using them to glorify myself.

I’ve realised that I take a lot of pride in being able to cook vegetarian food for my carnivore husband that is wholesome, filling and delicious. I also perversely take pride in being able to cook meat very well for a vegetarian; storing up in my heart the compliments I receive from our friends when I cook for them.

I suppose it seems pretty small. ‘Well gee, Lauren takes pride in her cooking. So what?’ But God really showed me the small way in which pride had taken root in my heart. And it was ugly.

Almost as ugly as the quiche itself.

So that's one more heart issue to add to the prayer list.

And that is the last time I am going to experiment with blended tofu.

Sometimes I think I must be a teenage boy.

2010-07-13T11:28:00.003+10:00

Why?

Because two of the main things I think about in the day are-

Breasts.

and

Food.

I am obsessed lately with breastfeeding and breastfeeding activism (I REFUSE to say lactivism! No more diluting of the English language if you please!), and am ALWAYS obsessed with food.

It's my families running joke that if you ask me to conjure up any memory from my life- even very early childhood, I will not be able to tell you what happened. I will not be able to tell you who was there. But by golly, I'll remember every single morsel of food I consumed! If something good happens in my life, (getting married, Stephen buys me a special gift etc) he usually says to me: 'Quick Lauren, eat something! Then you might remember this in the future!'

Anyway, on that note, I shall share a food link and a boob link.

Check out http://foodgawker.com/ if you don't already. It's full of beautiful pictures of food that usually link to recipes or food blogs. It's introduced me to so many beautiful recipes that my family and I have come to love! Lots of inspiration! Also, the EYE CANDY!!!!

Also this website, 'I breast fed', is a really good collection of inspiring stories from all sorts of women about their experiences feeding their child/ren. Many beautiful stories and photos.

Enjoy!

Movie Review- Precious

2010-07-12T12:06:00.002+10:00

I saw this movie recently and it has really resonated with me and I thought I'd share a review with you all :) No spoilers included!

(Click banner to watch preview on YouTube)

Synopsis- In Harlem, Clarice, known by her middle name Precious, is an obese and illiterate teenager from an abusive home who has been suspended from high school for being pregnant a second time. She is given the opportunity to be enrolled in an alternative education high school program.

Initial Expectations- I was expecting some pretty good acting, based on some brief reviews and interviews with cast members that I had seen, and I knew it had won quite a few awards. Other than that, I was expecting to probably cry a bit, and come out the other side feeling uplifted. I expected it would be quite a 'feel-good' movie.

Warnings- It is quite brutal. There is mild physical violence, and also sexual violence. The language is BAD BAD BAD.

My Thoughts-
It is not the formula plot that I thought it would be, because all the loose ends are not tied up when it finishes, nor does it get a perfect Disney ending. It feels very real and the acting is AMAZING.
It is quite emotional to watch, although I never did cry at the bad bits, because I had to emotionally distance myself a bit. I shed some tears however, over a few very beautiful scenes. Although hard to watch at times, 'Precious' does contain a message of hope.

Here are my big revelations from watching it-

1. At one stage the main character is eating a giant bucket of chicken and my inner-vegetarian wrinkled up her nose at this. I was immediately aware of my reaction.

My husband always says that vegetarianism/veganism is a luxury of the rich, (due to the fact that most of us in the West have vast options when it comes to our diet) and I partly agree with him. However, watching this and reacting the way I did made me realise that it is also the luxury of someone who is free to think.

My mother taught me that lesson a long time ago, but it didn't sink in until I saw this.

I grew up in a family with lots of intellectuals who like to debate EVERYTHING. I have rather a lot of passions, or 'causes', as Stephen says. Once when talking to my mother about something (who knows what) when I was younger; I passionately expressed my frustration that most people just don't think about things properly.
She responded that for many people, thinking is a luxury they don't have, because their own life demands so much of their attention for the mere fact of their survival (physically or emotionally or both). I know that this is something she has experience of, but I couldn't really relate at the time.

Anyway, that scene from the movie really downloaded that lesson into my spirit. I am privileged. Like CRAZY privileged.

I care about ethical food consumption, but that's only because I have access to more food than I know what to do with and can choose what myself and my family eats.

I care about birth options and natural birth and breastfeeding etc, but that's only because I actually have several birth options, and live in a country where a woman has access to medical help in birth, should she need it.

But mostly, I can think about anything, because all of my basic physical and emotional needs are more than well taken care of.

This then led to-
2. How do I raise my children up to know how blessed they are without seeing the ugliness of the world? I guess the short answer is that I can't, but still.

I naturally want them to never have to see any of the uglier parts of this world, but I also want them to appreciate what they do have, and to know real thankfulness to their Creator for the blessing they experience.

I mean, really, they're going to see and be affected by sinfulness and it's effects on the world whether I like it or not. I suppose my job is to guide and teach them through it.....that seems scary. I might just treasure the fact that my biggest concern in parenting these days is poop-stains- and pray that God prepares me for the task ahead!

That's about it. I mentally chewed this movie over for days and it's still affecting me.
I think I might watch it again at some point, but once more might be enough. I wasn't sure whether to write a review or not, and I also wasn't sure whether to recommend to anyone to watch it, because it IS graphic. However like the movie Blood Diamond (which I will NEVER watch again), I think it's a really important movie to watch at least once, despite it's graphic nature, because even though it makes me squeamish just to watch, for some people, it's how they actually live.

Those Photos. You know which ones.

2010-07-07T20:39:00.002+10:00

Every person has at least one.

That photo that as a kid made you wonder: 'What were my parents thinking? Why would they take a photo of me like this? And why would they keep it? And SHOW IT to people???'

I have many such photos from my childhood.

Unfortunately for my kids, they are growing up in the age of digital cameras; where Mummy and Daddy can take as many embarrassing photos of them as there are minutes in a day.

Now that I am a parent however, I now have the answers to all of those questions.

Because my darlings, even if you think the photos are weird looking and embarrassing; as your mother, I can only see one thing-

YOU ARE SO SO SO CUUUUTE.

I'm back on the radar.

2010-07-02T09:07:00.002+10:00

Please excuse my temporary unexplained absence.

In the last month Eli went from one night waking to waking up 3-5 times a night. This coincided with increasingly poor day-naps. He's never slept well in the day, but lately it has been ridiculous. I feed him to sleep, usually a deep, deep, sleep, but he often wakes up just 15 minutes after I place him in his cot and won't resettle.

This has resulted in one cranky baby who refuses to be put down; one poor toddler who has been acting out to get mum's attention, and one very sleep-deprived and somewhat insane mother.

The last month shall forever be known as The Month in Which Elisha Won the Award For Worst Sleeper In The House. Or perhaps, Lauren Is Good and Properly Sleep Deprived For the First Time Since Eli Was Born, Which is Actually Quite Amazing To Have Made it This Long. Can you tell I haven't caught up yet? Anyway, to be brief- I've been in survival mode and generally withdrawn from most of my other activities.

However, in the last week, Eli has learned to self-settle! (In the day, not at night.) He takes good 1-2 hour long naps in the day now; three of them if I'm lucky. I guess it's just an age thing. He still wakes up 15 minutes into a nap, but now he talks to himself for about 5 minutes before drifting off into a really deep slumber. (If I can keep Cass relatively quietly occupied in that 5 minute space.)

I am adamantly against CIO for such a young baby, but occasionally in my sleep-deprived haze, the thought had occurred to me. I am so glad he has somehow figured it out himself quite happily.

I should insert here that I have NO skills and next to no knowledge about helping infants to sleep, other than: 'Here's a breast baby, try your luck!'. Cass was an excellent sleeper who slept right through the night from 12 weeks of age once she discovered her thumb.

Eli is still waking completely unpredictably throughout the night, but I have adjusted :) I also have a few posts I am drafting, so I'll be blogging again quite soon! I hope you are all well! I haven't kept up with the blogs I follow, but I'll try and go back through them in the next few weeks.

The 'Daily' Part.

2010-05-26T20:58:00.004+10:00

I was thinking today-

If there were a life or death situation involving either of my children where I could literally or figuratively take the bullet for my child, would I? With hardly another thought, I was sure as sure as sure that I would.

I would lay down my life for my children.
This isn't hugely amazing, as far as I'm concerned. What mother wouldn't?

I realised then that the quality of my motherhood may lie in what else I might lay down for my children.

Would I lay down my pride, in asking them for forgiveness if I've wronged them? Would I lay down goals or dreams that conflict with my mission to mother them to my utmost? Would I lay down my knitting or a book even, to spend some real time with them before I blink and they grow up?

I then saw that my Christian walk is similar.

It's not enough to be willing to die for my faith in Jesus (should a circumstance ever occur that I would have to.) I need to die to myself day after day after day, just as Jesus said "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me". I think I often forget the 'daily' part.

So in my motherhood, and in my servant-hood, I am aiming to remember the 'daily' part.

From Cass' Birthday

2010-05-26T10:36:00.002+10:00

Two quick photos-

That was her birthday cake I made. It's chocolate inside, with butter-cream icing and flowers made from lollies, NOT fondant, which I think is gross and refuse to use.

That is the dress I made for her birthday. It's made out of the leftover scraps of 5 maxi-dresses that I converted to long skirts for myself awhile back. I love recycling!

Sarah @ Emerging Mummy....

2010-05-21T08:39:00.002+10:00

...wrote this amazing post that I can really relate to. Check it out here.

She really has a way with words.

My Biggest Baby is 2 Today

2010-05-19T20:25:00.002+10:00

My darling girl!

Every day for the last two years I've been so blessed.
I get to wake up every day- see your little face, and be reminded of how much God loves me.

I still can't believe He gave you to me!

Life is richer- unbelievably so, since you came into my life.

I so enjoy getting to know you. You assert your personality more and more each day, and it pleases me that along with loving every inch of you I like you a whole bunch too.

Ever since you were little, I've wanted to stop you from growing up, so I can love you just as you are.

But at the same time, I wanted you to get bigger and stronger, so I can cuddle you tighter without crushing you!

Happy Birthday sweetheart! Thank you for making me a Mama! Thank you for bringing me so much joy. Thank you for the 'Lub Loo Mummy' (Love you Mummy) you yell in my ear with your little arms tight around my neck. I Lub Loo too.

..........

2010-05-15T07:12:00.004+10:00

I've deleted those posts.

I don't mind being disagreed with, but my post had hurt someone, and even though my post wasn't directed at them, and even though they misunderstood the direction of my post- I'm still taking it down. I am truly sorry my words caused you hurt.

Also, when I wrote the post, I didn't expect that many people would read it. That is probably naive, but anyway, I've learned my lesson.

From now on, I'll be sticking to less controversial topics. Any suggestions? Maybe this should be a weather blog.....

Sometimes....

2010-05-14T20:58:00.003+10:00

...I look down at him while we are thus connected and I think of disconnected families.

I think of mothers who once stared down at their own sweet child nursing, not knowing that one day he would disown his parents and cease contact.

Or to a lesser degree, mothers and their children with conflicting personalities, who, as adults have a distant relationship.

Surely they once held their child, feeling deep in their bones that this is love. This is pure relationship.

I wonder, am I holding him now, only to lose him one day in the future?

This tiny boy whose every roll of fat I've poured kisses upon- will he one day turn into a man who never calls? Forgets Mother's Day? Marries a woman from a foreign country and makes a permanent move with her? Or even, will he have a very different sense of humour, or a different personality and not mesh with our family, feeling like an outsider?

These thoughts could keep me up at night. But they don't.

Right now I am his entire world. Right now my love for him spreads out from my heart right down to my toes and fingertips. Right now I am his Mama, the lady who birthed him into this world and for whom God has given the weighty task of caring for him. Right now, whilst writing this post, just thinking of him has caused my body to let milk down, wanting to nourish him (darnit!).

The only certainty I have right now is the only certainty I will ever have- My God is good. He cannot be other. And this time I get to share with my beautiful little nursling is ours, and it's a gift from Him.

Unfortunately....

2010-05-13T14:01:00.002+10:00

...After receiving some offensive and hurtful comments on this blog, I will be screening comments. Apologies to anyone this inconveniences. I'm sad to have to do this. Why does the internet make people feel that they can spew their bile at people they don't even know?

Manners cost a person nothing.

Mother's Day Biscuits

2010-05-10T13:10:00.004+10:00

This year for Mother's Day I did some baking! We had a get-together at my parent's place, and I took some biscuits and some Olive Bread, that I baked from food-blogger Macheesmo's Recipe. I forgot to take a picture.

I also made some more gingerbread biscuits with royal icing, which is fast becoming one of my favourite things to bake, because of the creative possibilities! Here they are:

Click any photo to enlarge it.

So I thought I might share my favourite gingerbread recipe.

Gingerbread

125g butter
2 tablespoons golden syrup
3/4 cup caster sugar
1 egg, beaten
2 cups self-raising flour
pinch of salt
4 teaspoons ground ginger
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg

1. Preheat oven to 150 degrees C.
2. Sift together flour, salt & spices.
3. Melt butter and golden syrup over low heat, then remove from heat and stir in the sugar and egg. Pour this mixture in with the dry ingredients and mix into a dough.
4. Turn dough out into a floured surface and kneed it into a ball.
5. Roll it out and cut out your shapes.
6. Bake for 10 minutes, until just very lightly browned.

That recipe makes around 30 cookies, or one one seriously ugly gingerbread house.

For the royal icing, I do 4 cups of pure icing sugar with 4tsp of meringue powder in it- sifted into a bowl. To this I add 1/2- 3/4 cup of warm water, (depending on how thick I want it to be. For this one I used 3/4, but it was a little runnier than I wanted.) and beat with an electric hand-beater until it passes the 10 second test. The 10 second test means that if you pass a blunt butter knife through the surface of the icing; the line it makes should take 10 seconds to disappear.

Also, I didn't use meringue powder, because I haven't been able to find it in Australia yet. Instead I use the contents of a pavlova egg, and it turns out fine, but not quite as smooth as meringue powder seems to look. It tastes just fine though.

I also use Wilton's gel food colouring, but I don't like the shades it comes in very much, but liquid food colouring isn't great for royal icing.

Happy baking!

A Closed Chapter

2010-05-05T21:00:00.004+10:00

This evening I planted Eli's placenta underneath a 'Peace' rose bush.

I was pretty sad to see it go, which seems weird...or maybe it doesn't just seem weird, it probably is weird. Regardless, it's the final part of a nine-month journey towards my healing and beautiful birth of Elisha James.

Stephen helped me. Not willingly, but because my midwife had wrapped the placenta in a large gauze pad before I froze it and it got stuck, so I couldn't get it off. I know how grossed out he was to do it, but, knowing how important it is was to me, he did it with admirably little complaint.

Okay, so this bit is gross, but I smelled the placenta before I buried it. Do you remember what birth smells like? I'd forgotten, but as soon as I inhaled I was instantly transported to the feeling of sitting on my knees, holding my fresh baby in my arms. I almost cried. Scent-memory is such a strong feeling! Anyway....

That's all. My whole home-birth journey with Eli is over. I just hope the darn bush doesn't die. I am NOT known for my green thumb!

Forging ahead with confidence.

2010-05-04T11:41:00.002+10:00

I have an admission to make.

I like to be in control.

Parenting is slowly, but surely, curing me of this. God has been so good to me since Eli was born, graciously responding to my prayers. The desire of my heart for this stage of my life is to be WITH my children. Right now; enjoying them as they are- not forever planning for tomorrow, or worrying about and anticipating future challenges, but lovingly, with patience, parenting the child that they are TODAY, right this very minute.

The biggest parts of parenting that have caused me to stress so far are the two things that are almost completely out of my control- sleep, and potty-training. The two challenges I have been putting off are moving Eli's cot into his sister's room and starting Cass off with potty-training.

This week I've started both.

Moving Eli has turned out pretty well. He was in a cot that we had 'side-car'-ed to our bed, so I could feed him lying down throughout the night and be close to him. Now he is in the same cot with the side re-attached in Cass' room. When he was next to me his sleep was pretty erratic, but since he's moved his sleep has settled into something pretty predictable. He goes to bed at 6pm, just like Cass, then sleeps till around 12pm, feeds once, then sleeps till about 5am, when they both get up. There's been no crying at all from either of them, and Cass doesn't wake when he does for his feed. So really, I can't imagine how it could possibly have gone better.

However I'm still so sad!! 13 weeks ago I didn't even know this little boy and suddenly I can't sleep without him?? I was so excited to move him out and have the room just for Stephen and I, but the first night without Eli in bed with us I cried. Also, I'm still getting less sleep because I worry more about him than when he was right next to me.

As for toilet-training, that remains to be seen! Today was our first day of going nappy-free, and let me just say our carpet is pretty...squelchy. Cass seems to get the gist of it though, and twice said 'potty' before weeing and made it to the potty.

Anyway, I'm quite tired, and feeling like my life is chaos, purely because I'm not really holding the reigns at the moment. Still, God has really changed me over the last few months, because I've been able to take it all in my stride and remain patient and calm inside.

Here are the scriptures that are on my wall at the moment that I am praying over my parenting:

'But women will be saved through childbearing- if they continue in faith, love and holiness with propriety.' 1 Timothy 2:15

'Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life—in order that I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor for nothing.' Philippians 2:14-16

May God's grace be heavy on all of us Mamas!

Since I've been comparing.....

2010-05-03T21:18:00.002+10:00

Here's another quick one-

Eli at 13 weeks-

Stephen at 3 months-

They look a lot more similar to me than Cass and Eli. Of course, Stephen is MUCH fatter in this picture....but he was a HUGE baby. :)

What a happy day!

2010-04-28T10:09:00.002+10:00

From our honeymoon in Fiji- kissing at sunset.

Dear Husband,

Happy 3rd Wedding Anniversary!

Three years ago today I was doing my hair for our wedding and I was so nervous.
Not about marrying you, but the wedding, which scared me so much! I was sure that you were the man that God had chosen for me, and three years later, I am still sure.

It has been the craziest, most exciting, adventurous, joyful, blessed and BUSY three years of my life. I barely know the woman-child who took the vows with you three years ago, except when you hold me, kiss me, and look at me with love in your eyes, I feel like her.

You make me feel so loved and so beautiful. You make me laugh as often and as hard as you did when we were dating, and really, what woman could ask for more than that? Being your wife is a joy, with my love always,

Your Wifey.

Just a quick comparison

2010-04-16T12:55:00.001+10:00

I dug up this picture of Cass at around 10 weeks of age to compare with Eli, and here they are:

So here are my comparisons-
Cass could prop herself up on her arms a little and Eli can't yet.
Cass was a fuzzy red-head, and Eli's new hair seems to be coming in pretty blonde.
His eyes are still blue but a bit darker than hers. (Hers are still the same blue as they were at 10 weeks.)
And lastly- the only identical facial features that I can see are the chubby cheeks.

Life is just flashing by.

2010-04-16T12:09:00.000+10:00

Life is BUSY with all capitals at the moment.

I feel like I never stop and haven't gotten on the computer very much these days. Boy am I loving it though. Having a clean house normally feels awesome to me- but wrestling to get the house work done and look after the needs of my family at the same time is a great challenge to me- one I am reveling in!

Most days I go to bed feeling like I have met the needs of Cass and Eli pretty well- although Cass is still cutting those molars and being very clingy, so I can't cuddle her as much as she would like (which is all the time).

I think I have figured Eli out now too, regarding his night sleep. I spent a few frustrated weeks rocking/nursing/cuddling him to sleep for up to 2 hours a night, when he would doze off, then wake, then doze and wake and FINALLY settle after a couple of hours of me helping him get to sleep. Now I have realised he just wants to be left alone. He is in a cot that we have attached to the side of our bed next to me, so at 8pm he has his last feed, but won't feed to sleep, and then I tuck him into his cot and lie next to him- but not touching. He then wriggles and talks to himself for about half an hour and then settles into a very deep sleep. If I pat him on the bum or try to 'help' he gets cranky, and if I leave the room he screams. WEIRD BABY. What 10 weeks old knows how to self-settle? I've never met one until Eli. Anyway, once I'd figured that out, he's been sleeping for a 6-7 hour stretch and only having one feed, then waking up at 6am to start the day. Previous to that he was waking to feed every 2 hours. A part of me is glad for the sleep, and another part is sad we don't have more than one feed a night. I really enjoyed cuddling with him throughout the night.

Anyway- all this to say that I have my evenings back for myself now!! I mostly use them to catch up on housework, but I am also picking up a few craft/knitting/sewing projects again.

Here are some beanies I crocheted for the little ones out of some wool I'd hand-dyed about a year ago. I haven't crocheted anything since I got on my knitting craze, and this was fun.

Other things I am working on:
- We've gotten ourselves a digital SLR camera, so I am having fun learning to use that.
- I bought a whole bunch of 'maxi dresses' that I f0und on sale the other day for $10 each and am converting them into long skirts for myself. I am also using all the scraps I cut from them to make a little dress for Cass for her birthday; which is next month- I will have a 2 year old, how crazy!
-I am knitting a security blankie for Eli which has some lace-work in it- so it's my first complex knitting project. Stephen says I can give it to him for his 21st, but I am planning to defy him by actually finishing this one! (I am very bad at finishing knitting projects.)
-Speaking of which, I knitted Cass a hooded jumper for winter this year, but have yet to sew the pieces together. When I've done that I plan to hand-dye it.

And that's about it. Which is enough for me for now!

My Darling

2010-03-31T19:53:00.000+10:00

Sometimes I just look down at him and think: 'Surely no mother ever loved her son more than me!'

And then I wonder how much more does our Father love us?

Eli is 7 Weeks Old

2010-03-22T09:22:00.000+10:00

And here he is:

His favourite place to be is up on someone's shoulder. And they must be standing and pacing. So that's where I'm getting my exercise at the moment.

We've had a rough week. After Cass and I had gastro, Eli then started throwing up. (Shortly after I wrote the last blog post in fact). After Eli started throwing up, I started vomiting blood, so we all went down to the local hopsital. I was given a shot to stop me from throwing up, and Eli was looked at for signs of dehydration. I was told that if he couldn't keep anything down by that evening that we should take him to the children's hospital in the city.

We ended up doing just that and Eli and I had to stay overnight so he could be observed, as he was showing signs of dehydration and still not keeping any feeds down. By morning he had kept one and a half feeds down and we were allowed to go home. Stephen drove in to pick us up, but had to stop halfway at my parent's place because he had started being sick. So my parents came to pick us up with Cass in the car, who threw up on the way; she had caught gastro back AGAIN!

When we arrived back at my parents place to pick up Stephen, upon finding out that Cass had been sick and finding blood in Eli's nappy; I made a doctor's appointment for the both of them. It turned out that the 'blood' was very very concentrated urine from Eli being dehydrated, and Cass was given the all-clear for dehydration. So home we went, and I found myself recovering from gastro, and on 1 1/2 hours sleep at the hospital in an uncomfortable chair, I was now looking after 3 sick people. Cass is also cutting her 2 year old molars....

So that was fun. This morning however, Stephen has a virus of some sort, and so does Eli! I haven't had a sick family for this long...well, ever! One of Cass' teeth has just broken through, but the others are still hurting her and she just cries all day. Seriously- ALL DAY.

Ah well, hopefully we'll be smooth sailing by next week!

Motherhood has changed me!

2010-03-17T10:22:00.000+10:00

We all have gastro at the moment. Cass had it yesterday and today is my turn.
Yesterday she woke up at 5am (an hour earlier than usual) and called out to me. I went in and she and her bed were covered in sick and she got very upset.

Today I am the one sicking up, and poor Cass gets very upset when I do for some reason, running away and crying.

Any way, the point of this post is that despite the sickness and looking after a newborn and recovering toddler- I have managed to do two loads of washing so far in my day. Back when Cass was a newborn, this would have been beyond contemplation, even if I were not sick, I doubt I'd have thought myself capable of two loads of washing this early in the morning.

Just now both bubs have gone to sleep, and I am heading off to do yet more housework; but first I had a moment to think about how my work ethic has changed since becoming a mother, and how I have come to realise that I am very capable, even when sick. Praise God!

The Little 'Mummy' in My House

2010-03-15T10:00:00.000+10:00

Nursing Dolly

Burping Dolly

Changing Dolly

Processing Eli's birth

2010-03-04T22:00:00.001+10:00

Just a quick post about my afterthoughts on Eli's birth.

I did so much reading and so much thinking and praying about his birth.
My biggest expectation, after feeling like a failure after my first birth, and feeling that Cass had been 'delivered', rather than been 'given birth' to; was that I would feel really empowered and strong and amazing after giving birth naturally. What I found in the end though, was that I felt exactly the same, and yet completely different. Let me explain.

After I gave birth to Cass, I felt that during the experience I was a complete bystander. Things were done to me and Cass was eventually 'removed' from me via vacuum extraction, and I felt like I'd had almost nothing to do with it. Which felt pretty crap.

After I gave birth to Eli, I again felt like a total bystander, but in a different way. If you've read the birth story (below), you'll know that I had very little to do with what went on! It kind of happened 'to' me again. So when people have said to me 'That's amazing! You did so well!', I kind of feel like shrugging and saying: 'Well, I was just there really. I didn't do much.' And it feels amazing, because it means my body and Eli were just able to work together uninterrupted. I was literally a vessel for God to bring forth a new life into this world. What a privilege!!

My final thoughts on the birth is that I am so glad I've been on the journey I have. I love that Cass' birth made me a mum, and glad that it caused me to search and learn and then be able to have the birth that I did with Eli.

Eli's birth was entirely satisfactory and better than I had imagined it (especially the breastfeeding and recovery!), and the only thing that would have made it perfect would have been to have Andrea there earlier so she could have told me to relax, because everything was normal and you are NOT about to break your clitoris irreparably. (Seriously, that would have been a big weight off my mind whilst pushing! Ha!) Also, it would have been nice if poor Stephen hadn't been sick.

Well that's it :) If out of all of this I had one bit of advice for women yet to give birth it would be this:
Be aware of your birth choices, and I mean ALL of them. If you are not, someone may end up making them for you. I don't mean that as a dire warning; just that this has been my experience. Oh, and that babies, no matter HOW they come, are a blessing from God himself.

The Accidental Freebirth (Planned Homebirth) of Eli James

2010-03-04T10:57:00.002+10:00

This post could have been called 'In Which God Reminds Us That He is Truly in Control'.

This is the birth story of my 2nd child, Eli James, who is my first son. To preface the story very slightly, I feel that it's important to share briefly the story of my first experience with birth- which was with my daughter Cass. (Now 20 months).

My labour with Cass was 38 hours long, with 18 hours of active labour. It was a hospital birth that resulted in the use of gas, pethidine, an epidural and finally a vacuum delivery. (I had a very good obstetrician, who did all he could to not give me a c-section when so many of his peers would have.) Cass was mal-positioned throughout labour- posterior facing and not engaged at all, so my cervix dilated extremely slowly without any pressure exerted on it. The contractions began 10 minutes apart, and were regular throughout. For the final 20 or so hours, my contractions were never further apart than 3 minutes, and never shorter than 60 seconds, so it was a hard slog. I found the experience very disempowering; the hospital midwives indifferent (and mostly completely absent) and interventions were pushed upon me. I decided to do things differently next time, immediately upon reflection of my experience.

This led to me doing a lot of reading, a lot of research, a lot of praying, and a great deal of trying to convince my husband, which all resulted in us planning to give birth at home this time.

We found ourselves a Christian midwife who put Stephen's safety fears to rest. We felt that God had really provided for us in this regard, as she is a beautiful woman that we trust.
My plans for coping with pain (given that I had had an epidural last time and had no experience of transition, just all of labour till the brink of it, I was a bit apprehensive of going natural.) were- heat packs, incense (sounds silly, but my favourite incense is the same scent of perfume from all of my special occasions, my wedding etc) and a birth pool with warm water, but mostly I had spent months compiling all of my favourite worship music and was planning to just really worship and press into God's presence.

So- on Saturday I noticed half-way through the day that the bub had really dropped down, and I was feeling pressure in my pelvis, and a pressure in my thighs. I thought to myself 'Tonight could be the night', but didn't think more on it, because I didn't want to get my hopes up.

That evening I went to bed early, but couldn't sleep. I was so annoyed at myself, having managed to overcome my insomnia in recent nights. Also, Stephen was playing on the computer and wouldn't come to bed. I remember telling him quite crossly 'You're going to be really sorry if I go into labour tonight and you've been up late.'

11pm- I had my first contraction, but I didn't recognise it as such. They were only going halfway up my belly and although I've never experienced Braxton Hicks contractions; they felt like what I imagine them to be, so I told myself it was false labour and I had to go to sleep now. Still couldn't sleep though, and was becoming increasingly cranky. Stephen came to bed at 12pm and I told him that I was having Braxton Hicks contractions. He said 'Hopefully they'll help get things primed so you can have a quicker labour when it happens.' At that point, I was starting to suspect this might be real labour and was thinking about timing the contractions, but didn't want to get my hopes up still., so didn’t mention my thoughts to Stephen.

1.00am- I had realised between 12am and 1am that the contractions were about 10 minutes apart and lasting 30 seconds. They were going all they way up my belly by this point. I'd had some diarrhoea too, and was starting to think I was in the early stages of labour. At this point I got up and heated up a heat pack for my belly, intent on getting some sleep and mad that I had stayed up late and not slept earlier.

Between 1&2am- Baby turned posterior. Having had a posterior labour last time, I was instantly freaked out by my changed belly shape, and the change in the feel of the contractions. I started feeling very negative and sure that this labour would be as long and awful as my last. Had thoughts about having to transfer to hospital for exhaustion or dehydration, or just to get pain medication. With the change in the feeling in the contractions I begin to doubt my ability to deal with the pain. At this stage I was lying on the bed trying to sleep in between contractions (unsuccessfully), then getting up on my hands and knees and doing hip-rocks to try to turn the baby back the right way during each contraction. I found myself holding my breath and fighting contractions every now and again in my negativity, and was angry with myself for not being able to relax so early in my labour when the contractions were so weak. Had a pray and began to breath through each contraction slowly, concentrating on relaxing and beginning to get into a rhythm. Contractions still 10 minutes apart and only 30 seconds. Since by this stage in my last labour they were coming closer together (around 6-7 minutes I think, but they always steadily progressed) I became convinced that I was in for an even harder time than last time. Still very negatively-minded.

2.00am- 3.00am- Hadn't managed to sleep and decided to get up and have something nutritious to eat, figuring I'd need some good fuel since I hadn't slept. Put some toast on and some eggs to fry, and poured a glass of orange juice. Had some more diarrhoea. I sat down on the fit ball at the computer and looked up a contraction timer online. I noticed that whenever I got up or moved around, this would trigger a contraction; sometimes ones that would only last 10-20 seconds, but they were erratic and all over the place and quite low down, feeling more like bowel cramping and more diarrhoea pain. I was sure this was the case, because in my last labour I couldn't 'trigger' a contraction by moving, they just happened regularly. Online contraction timer confirmed the irregularity of the contractions. Overcooked the eggs. Ate them quickly and decided to go back to bed to alleviate the bowel cramping. Not sure whether to call anyone yet, but was unsure about the irregularity of the contractions when I was up and moving, so decided to call Andrea and at least let her know I was pretty sure I was in labour.
I called, feeling really bad about waking her up, and described what was going on. She said it didn’t sound like I was in established labour yet, and suggested I go back to bed and try to rest and call her back when the contractions become really regular.

3.00am- 4.00am- I went back to bed and the contractions once again became 10 minutes apart and 30 seconds long again. The intensity picked up a little though, and hip-rocks no longer helped, so when I felt a contraction coming on I would stand up and lean my arms on the back of the bed and rock my hips. I prayed quite a lot in this hour, and began to really relax my muscles during a contraction. I started to get into a good rhythm of dealing with the pain. After awhile, I started having two contractions back-to-back. One 30 second one, with a smaller one coming straight afterward, and then a 10 minutes gap. This continued.

4.00am-4.30am- At 4am, Stephen woke up from hearing my deep breathing during a contraction and sleepily asked ‘Are you in labour?’. I answered ‘Yes honey’ and I think he said something like: ‘Oh, cool.’ very sleepily. At this point I decided he could wake up fully because I wanted his support more. We had a good talk in between contractions, in which I told him that the baby was posterior, and voiced all of my fears about giving birth naturally. He encouraged me, and prayed for the baby to turn. On the next contraction, bubby did so. I felt God’s presence quite strongly when that happened, and that He was really with me in this. At some point in this hour I called mum to ask her if she could come over at 6am to get Cass up and breakfast her etc. I didn’t think labour would be much further along, but didn’t want to think about looking after Cass, or having Stephen distracted from me when I might need him.

4.30am-5.00am- This is where I got out of bed for the second time, spurred by more feelings of needing to go to the bathroom. By this point, my bowels were empty, and I was just overcome by bowel cramping. However, as soon as I got out of bed and moved around, I would trigger contraction after contraction. They were probably coming every 30 seconds at this point, sometimes less, but still very short, some longer and more intense. It felt chaotic and all over the place and not at all like labour. I was still breathing through each one, not having to vocalise at all.
I started to feel the urge to vomit here and there, as well as the bowel cramping, so I set myself up on the toilet with a travel sickness bag and decided I wasn’t moving an inch till my digestive system calmed down. At this point I became convinced that I had food poisoning (we’d eaten fish for dinner the night before and my only experiences of food poisoning have involved fish.) and that my bowel cramping was causing/ interfering with my labour contractions. I began to doubt I was even in labour; just experiencing some violent food poisoning, or perhaps that my food poisoning had triggered labour. I asked Stephen to call Andrea.

5.00am exactly- Stephen called Andrea and told her what was going on and that I was sure I had food poisoning. She asked him a few questions and he threw a few back to me. Did I have a feeling of pressure in my thighs? Yes, I said, and my lower back. How far apart are the contractions? Haven’t had a chance to time them, but surely no more than 30 seconds, sometimes less. Stephen talked a minute more and then hung up and told me that Andrea told him to fill the birth pool, she was coming straight away because it sounded like things were moving quite quickly now. I remember saying something like: ‘No, the baby isn’t coming, she doesn’t understand! I have food poisoning, maybe we need to go to hospital for fluids??’

Stephen called my sister, Jenna, to tell her to make her way over, things were progressing.

At this point I am sure that, looking back, I was definitely in transition, but didn’t recognise it at the time. I still wasn’t completely sure I was really in labour. I could still talk easily between contractions. Stephen mentioned to me at some point that he thought he might have food poisoning too, and I thought to myself ‘Oh no, this is the worst timing. I must be the unluckiest person in the world to have food poisoning and be in labour at the same time, and have a husband who is sick throughout.’

Stephen began trying to fill the birth pool, and he yelled back to me that he was having trouble putting the liner in the pool, and could I come help him? I yelled back a very emphatic NO. I was NOT moving an inch. He said ‘That’s okay, that’s okay, I’ll handle it.’
Oh, at some point in these few minutes, I realised I was sweating bullets and very hot. My hair was down, so I french-braided it quickly to get it out of my face. I think this is funny, because I can now say: ‘I french-braided my hair during transition.’

I had begun to vocalise during contractions and they were suddenly much more intense. Stephen had started filling the pool and was running back to me every time he heard me start a contraction so I could lean on him. During these contractions, I found great comfort in reaching under his arm with my hand gripping his shoulder from behind. I remember distinctly that once he took a little longer getting back to me for a contraction and I didn’t have time to get myself in that position and was only able to hold onto the front of his shoulder. It was very unsatisfactory.

Once I started vocalising (around 5.05am), Cass woke up, and we could hear her playing in her cot. Her room is right next to the bathroom and toilet, but she didn’t seem at all alarmed by the noises I was making. At one stage as my voice was dying away at the end of a contraction I heard her say ‘All done!’ in response.

At around 5.15 I think Stephen called my mother asking her to come RIGHT AWAY PLEASE, as Cass was awake and labour was very much underway.
At roughly around the same time, I began pushing with each contraction, without being able to stop. I hadn’t realised I’d been through transition, and the strength of the contractions; although intense, were around as bad as I’d experienced when the Dr’s at the hospital in my last labour had said I was only at 4cm, so I was absolutely sure that I shouldn’t be pushing. I began trying to pant, but couldn’t help pushing still.

Stephen called Andrea and told her what was happening, and she told him to get towels and be ready to catch the baby; she might not make it in time. When Stephen relayed what she said to me, I freaked out a little, yelling ‘Why are you getting towels? We don’t need towels!! I’m not having the baby yet!’. I was so firmly in denial, ha!

I was quite panicked though. I was sure I was going to do myself some terrific damage, considering that roughly 25 minutes ago the contractions were still 10 minutes apart, I surely SHOULDN’T be pushing!

5.15-5.30am- This is very hazy for me, but I’ll relate the bits I can remember.
Cass was still happily playing in her cot.
Somewhere in this 15 minutes my water broke with a weird internal ‘pop’ feeling, that doesn’t hurt, but feels yicky. I informed Stephen of this.

I noticed that when I was breathing deeply during some contractions (some only required breathing, they were very erratic still, and no more than 30 seconds long each) that Stephen was practically hyperventilating along with me. I became intensely worried for him; thinking that this experience was very stressful for him and I had done the wrong thing by pushing for a home birth. During the contraction that I noticed him hyperventilating, he ran out the front door (which is right next to the toilet in our house, weird right?) and threw up just outside the door. This continued and he kept apologising to me. I kept asking if he was okay, and he said it was the food poisoning and I was glad that it wasn’t stress, but upset that I was mostly alone in a very intense part of labour when I shouldn’t be pushing, but was, and had no midwife or anyone to help me.

5.30-5.45am- My mother arrived, saying that she could hear me yelling all the way up in the street (which wasn’t surprising since the front door was open and I was right next to it.) I told her rather hysterically that I was pushing with every contraction and that I was sure it wasn’t time to push yet but I couldn’t help it. She asked if I’d tried panting. ‘YES!’ I told her. ‘It didn’t work.’

I’d started to feel some really intense downward pressure, and had my hand over my vulva. At some point I suddenly felt a big round, head-shaped bulge behind my vulva, exerting huge pressure from behind my clitoris all the way down to my anus. However, the outer part of my vagina was normal sized and had not begun to stretch at all. (I am not sure how normal that is, probably completely normal, but I’d always had the image of the baby coming down the birth canal rather slowly and the vagina opening up slowly to compensate, not the head hitting the whole area like a freight train.)

I was suddenly shaken right out of my denial and very aware that YES, this baby was coming!

The feeling of pressure was so intense I was now sure that I was going to tear from front to back. The contractions were finally steady and back-to-back and I was now aiding my body by deliberately pushing instead of trying not to, now that I was sure it was okay to do so. I was making some very loud, high-pitched sound, that I can’t remember now, but I am pretty sure I was shrieking at the top of my lungs. Stephen was trying to get me to move my hand out of the way so he could see, and begging me to move forward so the baby would have somewhere to come out other than straight into the toilet. I yelled at him that I was NOT MOVING ANYWHERE and he kept trying to persuade me. I could feel my vagina beginning to open and still had my hand there, beginning to have lots of flickering random thoughts about things that could go wrong, or should I apply counter pressure to my perineum once the baby is crowning? I’ve read different things about whether counter pressure actually prevents tearing or helps to cause it, and I wasn’t sure which literature I sided with. Ha! Meanwhile, still pushing and yelling. And amongst the chaos, Stephen was still vomiting here and there. I think mum had opened Cass’ door and had gotten her dressed maybe? Not sure.

I managed to shift my bottom inch by inch between contractions, so I was just perched on the edge of the toilet. Stephen said he could see the head. I could feel it a bit too. He asked my mother if she could stay with me for a second while he called Andrea. (The head didn’t look right to him and he just wanted her on the phone so he could describe what he was seeing and have her reassure him, and also tell him what to do to help catch the baby.) He ducked just outside the door.

Mum came in and I suddenly got that surge of adrenaline I’d heard about (and seen in some birth videos) where the woman just bolts upright onto her feet, standing. Then the baby was crowning and I yelled a new note that I didn’t know I could reach and the head was out. It was a good feeling of relief, but the pain was still present, and for some reason, I’d had this expectation that once the head was out, the body should slither out right after it. However, there was a brief lull between contractions and me pushing the rest out. My mother said: ‘The head’s out. The body is coming now.’ (which she later told me she had no way of knowing, but it felt like an encouraging thing to say, hehe.) I yelled ‘WHEN??’, because even though it was only a few seconds between contractions and the body coming out, it felt like forever in that small moment. My mum must have thought it was a weird thing for me to say. I can’t really describe the altered state of consciousness I was in, but you’ll either understand from your own experience or not I guess.

I then had one brief panicked thought that went: ‘Oh no! What about shoulder dystocia?’ then the contraction came and the body came out. Mum caught the baby and I felt it on the way out, thinking about how slippery it was and how I was glad someone else could catch, because I wouldn’t have managed without dropping it.

I was very shaky in the legs and managed to kind of get down on my knees on the towels and sit back on my heels. Mum passed me the bubby and brought him up to my chest. Oh yes, somewhere during the last half hour; probably once my waters broke; I had ripped off my pyjama top so I could bring the baby to my breast without having to get someone to undress me, so I was naked already. The baby was gurgling a little and I was not sure how to make sure it was all okay, but it cried out a few times to let us know, and even though it was snuffly; it’s breathing was regular.

Stephen ran back in when he heard the baby cry, he was only gone for about 30-60 seconds, which is how long it took for Eli to come out I guess. He is disappointed he missed it. I then turned the baby over to see what we had and was very surprised to see a tiny penis. I was convinced we had a girl and had been called the baby Joey (short for Joelle). We weren’t completely settled on a boy’s name yet, so I had no name for our new son, though I felt he was an Elisha in those first moments, but didn’t speak of it yet. ‘You have a son!!’ I told Stephen happily.
I kept saying over and over; ‘I can’t believe it was that easy! How could giving birth be so easy??’
He arrived at around 5.45am (we are pretty sure :) There were no clocks about. Andrea was able to tell us by checking at what time the last phone call from Stephen had been received.)

Eli found my nipple and latched on with a picture perfect latch (and has ever since).

Andrea arrived within 5 minutes and made sure everything was fine and started to take photos. Mum had gotten Cass out of her cot and brought her to me. ‘Bubby!’ was all she said for awhile, and she kept smiling and pointing.

Jenna arrived with her husband Dave about 5 minutes after Andrea. ‘You missed it, so did Andrea. Eleen (my mother) caught the baby. You have a nephew.’ Stephen told her. ‘Are you serious??’ she answered.

Andrea suggested I go into the birth pool for awhile, to deliver the placenta, if I wanted to. I decided it was a good idea, because I was feeling very shaky. Once I was in the water, I was weightless, which was a very nice feeling.

After a bit I started having after-pains, that required I breath through them. They were much worse than with Cass. I asked Andrea how long it normally takes for a placenta to come out, and she said around 15-30 minutes, and the longest she’s waited was 4 hours, which seemed alarming to me.

After some time (a hour and a half at least, though maybe over 2 hours), the placenta had not come out, and I was applying light traction to the cord with each contraction. It didn’t feel as though it had detached yet though. I was concerned, but Andrea said my bleeding was fine so she wasn’t worried. She said that my birth had been so rapid that my body was probably just taking some time to ‘catch up’. I asked her what would happen if we had to go to the hospital and she said I’d have to go into theatre and have it removed manually, probably under epidural anaesthesia. This was really alarming, because I felt so awesome after my natural birth it would have been terrible to be drugged and separated from my baby. Also, Stephen was very weak and shaky by this point and couldn’t walk, and had called his mother to come and pick him up to take him to the local hospital, so I was getting worried.

In the meantime, everyone was sitting around in the lounge-room, eating toast and fruit and chatting. Andrea was filling out mountains of forms.

The cord had long since stopped pulsing, so I decided to have the cord cut and I wanted to get out of the pool, which was cooling down. Stephen managed to get up off the floor and come over to cut the cord, which he was nervous about, because his hands were so shaky with illness, but Andrea helped him.

I was helped out of the pool and to my bed, where I lay next to bubby on some towels and waited some more.

After some time, Jenna and Dave decided to leave.

Stephen’s mother arrived, but Stephen decided not to go to the hospital, as he was beginning to recover.

Stephen had come to bed with me and the baby, and I was getting very cranky. I prayed in my head: ‘God, you can move mountains; please make this placenta come out.’, and then asked Stephen to pray about it. He did, and on the very next contraction when I applied light traction to the cord, as I had been doing consistently for some time, I could feel it move down, so I knew the placenta had come away. I was so happy. I told Andrea and we moved into the bathroom and she helped me deliver it. We waited a total of 4 hours and 45 minutes for it to come out, which would NEVER have happened in hospital. I was SO glad we had chosen to stay home to give birth this time, and let things happen in my body’s time.

I then had a shower and went back to bed to cuddle bubby some more.

That’s the end :D I am working on another post about all the mental processing I did of the whole experience, and how it differed greatly from my first birth. (Over here)
What I will say now is that the two experiences were INCOMPARABLE and I would never give birth any way other than naturally in the future if I could help it. God made pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding to work, and interfering with the process (in my experience) makes it all more difficult.

Now for some photos! There aren't many, as most are too bloody and naked-y to make it to the internet :) I have cut a few up to provide at least SOME.

Eli's first breastfeed

My mother showing Cass her new brother

The very messy french braid :)

In the birth pool

My mum, the baby catcher :D

All showered, dressed and comfy later that afternoon.

Vegetarian Nachos

2010-03-03T10:45:00.001+10:00

Just a quick recipe for vegetarian nachos. I don't have a favourite food; but if held at gun-point and forced to come up with one, nachos might be what I yell out in that moment of pressure.
I only ate them with meat a few times in my non-vegetarian youth, but have come up with many vegetarian versions over the years. This is my current favourite that I came up with a few days ago. Cass thought they were so awesome.
The recipe is pretty non-traditional, and they're probably only classified as nachos if you stretch the definition to 'anything on top of corn chips'. But yes, they're very yummy.

I can't give amounts because I just don't know, but I can tell you what went on them.

First I made a salsa out of finely diced tomatoes, red onion and taco sauce. Or you could use tabasco. I put that on top of the corn chips.
Then I drained a small can of mixed beans with chickpeas and added those on top too.
Followed by grated cheese.

All of that went into the oven for a few minutes, just enough to crisp the chips and melt the cheese.

Once it came out I added to the top:
Greek yoghurt (the plain, sour kind)
Finely diced cucumber (sounds weird, but the texture is awesome)
Finely chopped fresh parsley
Squeeze of lime juice

DONE!

Cass loves you Little Man

2010-02-21T08:32:00.000+10:00

Your sister loves you so much already Eli.

She calls you Eye-Eye.

All day long I get bossed around by her, telling me how to look after you.

It's time to change Eye-eye's nappy (it usually isn't).
Give bubby to me for 'cuggles'. Give bubby to me so I can change his nappy. You missed a spot Mama, let me wipe him.

She bosses you around too.

Here she is showing you where the camera is so you know where to smile.

Your sister shared a feed with you the day you were born.

Then we thought she had weaned for two weeks. This week, however, she has shared a feed with you again twice. Each time she abandoned her bunny (who previously was present for all milky cuddles with mum) so she could stroke your little head the whole time. The second time, she reached out to touch your hand, and you took hold of it. The two of you held hands for the rest of the feed. Every time she has shared a feed with you this week you have turned your little head and looked into her eyes the entire time.

I never intended to feed you both. I thought your sister would wean while you were in my tummy. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I'm pretty sure that you two feel pretty good about it though, and I hope you guys can grow up sharing everything as beautifully as you are currently sharing me.

Welcome to the family little Eli

2010-02-19T09:11:00.001+10:00

I'm very late in posting this, but we welcomed little Eli James to our family on 31st of January, 1 week before he was due :)
He arrived at home, very safely, and VERY fast. (45 minutes of active labour)
I haven't posted yet because I started writing his birth story and expected to be able to post it very quickly, but I haven't finished writing it just yet.
Anyway- here's the little fellow-

He is about 3 hours old in this picture

A couple of days old and being cuddled by Cass, who thinks he's pretty wonderful.

In a sling with mum, 2 1/2 weeks old, meeting Sarah Buckley, author of Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering, at the home-birth protest we went to yesterday.

I'll hopefully post Eli's birth story soon!

Knitted Newborn Cap Pattern

2010-01-28T09:15:00.000+10:00

Little Newborn Beanie

Click image to see larger

This last week I decided I wanted to make a boy beanie and a girl beanie, so that when our baby is born, regardless of gender, it can wear something lovingly made by Mama.

I would probably call myself an intermediate knitter, but have not, as yet, ever made a pattern, so I feel like successfully constructing my first pattern is a big step. It's not perfect, it has one minor flaw, but it doesn't make an overall difference to the pattern I think, and does the job. I was forced to make my own pattern because I couldn't find a simple, knitted in the round beanie for any of the needle sizes I happen to own, and wasn't willing to wait till I could buy new needles.

Sizes and Measurements

To fit- Newborn. Will fit head circumference of 32cm-36cm. This is apparently from the 3rd-60th percentile for newborns in my health charts.

Needles- 2.75mm double-points. (US size 2, Imperial 12)

Yarn- 4 ply baby wool. The pink one is worked in 100% bamboo, and has a lot more give than the boy one, which is worked in 100% wool.

Okay, here we go now:

Using 2.75mm double points, cast on 90 stitches. Distribute them to be 30 stitches on each needle.

Rib Row 1: K1, *P2, K2* rep till last stitch, P1.
Repeat last row 5 times.

(Not having the rib stitches match up perfectly at the joining edge sucks, but my math skills weren't good enough to come up with a number that worked for the ribbing as well as the decreases, that was also the right size. It doesn't appear very noticeable in the final product.)

Now begin in stocking stitch (ie: knit all rows)

For the eyelets if you are going to thread a ribbon through:
K next 3 rows in ss after you've finished the rib.
Eyelet row- *YO, k2tog* to end of row.
Continue working in ss for the next 22 rows.

If you are not including eyelets-
After the last row you knitted in rib, K in ss for the next 26 rows.

Now to Decrease

Dec Row 1 *K8, K2tog* to end of row (81 st)
Row 2 K to end.
Row 3 *K7, K2tog* to end. (72 st)
Row 4 K to end.
Row 5 *K6, K2tog* to end. (63 st)
Row 6 K to end.
Row 7 *K5, K2tog* to end. (54 st)
Row 8 K to end.
Row 9 *K4, K2tog* to end. (45 st)
Row 10 K to end.
Row 11 *K3, K2tog* to end. (36 st)
Row 12 K to end.
Row 13 *K2, K2tog* to end. (27 st)
Row 14 K to end.
Row 15 *K1, K2tog* to end. (18 st)
Row 16 K2tog to end. (9 st)

Cut yarn now, leaving a good sized tail. Using a wool needle, thread the yarn through remaining 9 stitches and tighten. Weave in all the ends.

The Flower

I made up my own little flower, but if you have a better one, go for it.
This one I knitted on two of the 2.75mm double points and this is how.

Petal One Cast on 20 st.
Row 1 K2tog to end. (10 st)
Row 2 K2tog to end. (5 st)
Row 3 K2tog, K2tog, K1. (3 st)
Row 4 K3tog. (1 st)

From that one stitch, cast on 19 st again (20 st) and repeat till you have another petal.

I did 5 petals in this way, and when I was done, I threaded the tail through the very middle of each petal and gathered them all up. Simple as that :) Hope this pattern works for you!

38 weeks and 3 days.....not that I'm counting.

2010-01-26T20:50:00.000+10:00

Something fairly impressive happens to the pregnant brain in the last month of pregnancy. You start the month thinking: '4 weeks wow, that is going to go SO FAST!!!', full of excitement and anticipation.
Then, about 1-2 weeks out from your due date, you get this sudden heavy feeling, a kind of resignation and suddenly, you just know that there is no end. This is it, you are going to be pregnant forever. So there.

My brain made this exact shift only yesterday, and it's messing with what's left of my to-do list. I look at it and think 'I should get this done, because if the baby comes today/tomorrow, I'm going to be really caught unaware.', which is immediately counter-acted by the thought 'No silly, don't you remember? Pregnant. FOREVER. You can do this all when it's less hot, or you've got a bit more sleep under your belt.' And thus appeased, I cheerfully waddle away to find another ice-cream (or row of chocolate, or spoonful of jam. DON'T JUDGE ME!).

We as a family are on the cusp of something new, something amazing- we're growing and it's awesome! I just want to get on to the next bit, and learn who has been sharing my body these last months. Are you a boy or a girl? Will you have hair? Will you be as big as your chubby big sister was? Is your nose really a bit squishy looking like in the ultrasound pictures, or was the technician just squishing you in the face with the ultrasound wand-y type thing?

We love you and want to meet you soon little Baby Hughes! Mama wants to give you kisses!

The Ugliest Gingerbread House on the Internet

2010-01-11T15:05:00.000+10:00

I haven't written much about my adventures with gingerbread and royal icing, but it's not a bad story.

It starts with this Christmas Eve past, on which my husband decided to go to the pub after work for a quick drink with friends before coming home. He didn't realise I was expecting him home for dinner, so by 8pm I was very cranky when he hadn't shown up. I hadn't decorated the house, or put up a Christmas tree or anything, due to the fact that I had visions of giving birth surrounded by Christmas decorations still, and didn't trust myself to take them down again in time. (Plus, I figure it's the last time Cass won't really know what's going on.)

I had lost the Christmas albums my family played on Christmas Eve, and I was feeling lonely and very very un-Christmas-y.

SO, at 8pm (half an hour away from my pregnancy bedtime), I decided to bake gingerbread. After I'd made the dough, I realised I only had jungle animal shaped cookie cutters, which was NOT CHRISTMAS-Y ENOUGH DARNIT.

So I took it into my head that I was going to make a gingerbread house instead. (This decision I think can only be defended by my crazy pregnant state. I'm getting crazier by the day too.)

Not having a template, I rolled out some pieces of dough in approximately house-bit shapes. I'd decided to make it a church also, instead of a house, so I changed the design a bit halfway.
With that baking in the oven, I started googling recipes for royal icing.
I didn't have any meringue powder in my pantry (nor even a wisp of an idea what it is or where to get some), so I found a recipe based on egg whites, which I could do.

So, by this stage, Stephen had come home and was wondering what the heck his wife was up to. When told the sad tale of Lauren's Lonely Christmas Eve, he really came to the table by putting a DVD of The Muppet's Christmas Carol on to watch with me. I don't know if it's lame, but I still cry every time it gets to the bit when Scrooge finds redemption. Is that lame? Oh well.

Anyhow, by this stage I was sitting, tired out of my tiny pregnant brain, holding the walls of the church together. At this point I realised that due to the current temperature (very bleeding hot), and high humidity, it was unlikely that my royal icing was going to be able to keep the walls up by itself for some time....

I'll cut out the rest of the painful story, but it did involve one full house collapse, which explains why the icing is SO BADLY MESSY in the photos.

So here it was:

There we go: ugliest gingerbread house on the internet (probably :))

I was actually quite disheartened by this messy messy gingerbread house, but looked forward to cracking it open and eating it. Then I found out that royal icing made with egg whites ISN'T EDIBLE. Which of course makes logical sense, but I wasn't putting a lot of thought into it at the time. Any way, I was VERY tired on Christmas day. I'm going to take another crack at it next year.

So, I then made gingerbread stars the day after Christmas, to take to another celebration, with edible royal icing, that were SO not worth photographing, but were tasty. The royal icing was very disappointing, because I over-beat it, and it was terrible and lumpy to pipe. Ugly, but yummy.

Finally, a few days ago it was my sister's birthday, and I wanted to get it right this time! I made the following butterflies, inspired by this tutorial. My piping ability is very sadly lacking by comparison, but I hope to improve :)

Anyway, I got the icing right, they tasted very yummy, and although I'm not altogether sure that they were worth the effort, I'll no doubt give it a try some other time in the future :)

Oh, and the first picture is of little Cass 'helping', but she was quickly banned, after I caught a few sneaky handfuls (and I do mean hand-FULLs) of dough making their way into her mouth. It was cute, because she was SO sneaky about it, and when I warned her she'd be put on the ground if she did it again, I made sure she understood, so when it happened, she didn't throw a tantrum at all; but it seemed to me like she was just sort of quietly smug that she'd managed that last mouthful. (I could be reading into it of course, but it WAS very surprising that she didn't throw a tantrum, and she did wander off fairly contentedly.)

The End :D

Ninja Mama

2010-01-07T08:05:00.000+10:00

I haven't posted in a long while, as it's all been nothing but baby preparations around here.
I've tried to write a post here and there, and I kind of zone out, come back to myself, and realise I've typed yet another to-do list instead of a blog post.
To-do lists are taking over my life, but the good news is, they're getting shorter! I plan to be done with them from 38 weeks so I can just rest and pray till bub makes his/her arrival.

Anyway, for this post, I am sharing a short, very odd incident that happened to me last week, that I STILL can't figure out.

I am now 36 weeks pregnant, and veeery slow. I am also somewhat of a zombie since Christmas, from which I have still not recovered.
This incident took place while Cass was eating her dinner. I was sitting with her on a bar stool, which I find it increasingly hard to climb up and down from in my advanced pregnant state; and chatting with her while she ate.

I was extremely tired, and after a bit, I ended up staring into space, trying not to fall asleep.

The next bit happened very fast, and I have no recollection of most of it, and still don't know how it took place. But this is my best recount:
Out of the corner of my eye, I registered that Cass had stood up in her high chair and was just toppling backwards over the edge (onto the very hard tiles of my kitchen floor). Her highchair is next to the kitchen bench, and there is a gap of about 20cm between the edge of her chair and the bench, and she was falling through this, bottom first with her feet near her head.
I was sitting about 2 feet away from her, facing almost the opposite direction.
The next thing I knew, I was standing 1 metre away from my own chair, on the other side that she fell from, holding her by one wrist and one leg, up in the air above my shoulders, and staring at my husband across the room (who did not witness the incident, but looked across at that moment because he heard Cass crying.)

I have no idea how I got to her that fast, given that it takes a good effort to haul myself down from the bar stool and I cannot turn around to face her chair easily in the small space with my large belly. She was completely unhurt, which is strange, because really, when looking at the gap, I can't imagine how she could have fallen without hitting her head on the kitchen bench on the way down. Or, how I could have plucked her out by an arm and a leg through a 20cm gap without bumping something again on the way back up.
But there you go. What's so weird is that I did it in a half-asleep state, and I don't remember plucking her out of the air at all. Also, how did I end up 1 metre in the other direction? I wish Stephen had seen it so he could have told me what happened!

At any rate, I have concluded that at some point in my life, I have had secret martial arts training that has been brain-washed out of my consciousness, and assume I am some military weapon that can be triggered by a code-word or something....or I was just really really tired and acted on some instinct. :)

Venting my spleen on......Children's books.

2009-12-21T21:47:00.000+10:00

I have decided to do some short posts from time to time on things that irrationally, but regularly, tick me off, just to save my poor husband the effort of nodding and making soothing noises on a regular basis.

Today's topic is the top 3 things about children's books that make it very hard for me to read to Cass sometimes.

1. The number one thing that gets me every time is when the main characters of a book are animals with human characteristics, but also have 'animal' characters in them who cannot talk or walk on their hind legs (or drive tractors, for crying out loud) and are the pets of the more human 'animals'. An example of this is Spot the dog, who has a pet cat. This is annoying, but just barely tolerable in books like Spot, where all the cats seem to be actual cats, and there are no 'cat characters'. However, Cass just received some lovely books from a relative recently, whose only fault is to be found in one picture of an anthropomorphic duck, feeding normal ducks at the pond. I want to scream a little every time I see it.

2. Books that have inaccuracies in them, in a way that I can only assume is meant to make them more 'fun' to read, but actually make it harder to teach your child what is correct and what is not. The most prominent example foremost in my mind is a book called 'Baby's First Sounds' that Cass owns, which just has one object per page, and the sound that it makes. About half of the items are animals, and the other half are very random. Anyway, one page has a picture of a child's tricycle, and the word 'BRRRM' underneath it in large letters. I can't handle it! I want to yell at the book: 'Tricycles do not go BRRRM! They make a soft noise on the pavement with their wheels that I can't think of anything even remotely onomatopoeic for, or go 'D-Dnk d-dnk d-dnk, if you are going over wooden slats, or the child can be making a very spitty 'BRRRM' noise with their mouth as they ride, but a tricycle WILL NOT and CANNOT make the noise 'BRRRM'.

3. Books in which the words and pictures do not match. I think this is more of an issue just because of Cass' age and development stage, but she likes the regular rhythm of the words, and is also gaining words and their meanings very rapidly. When I read a book to her at the moment, I like to point out pictures as the words come up in the story, and she is picking them up very fast, and pointing them out in other contexts also, so I think it's a good way to learn. However, when I am confronted with a book where the words and pictures do not match I don't know what to do. Do I make up my own story instead to match the pictures? I've done this for a few books, and the result so far is that she is used to the way I read it, and now only Mama can read those particular books to her, because Daddy and others don't do it 'right'. So I've lumped myself with some very irritating books. :)

Phew! That felt good getting that out. Consider my spleen vented. Now let me be more positive and list some books that Cass and I both like very much and commit none of the above mentioned offences.

-If You Were Born a Kitten
- Most anything by Mem Fox
And well, unfortunately that's all that passes the test among Cass' current favourites. Although she mostly has colourful board books. I can't wait until she can sit still enough to enjoy some really fun stuff, like Dr. Seuss :)

Phoenix on Canvas and goodbye to Lauren the Artist.

2009-11-24T08:37:00.000+10:00

Here is a copy of the belly phoenix that I decided to put on canvas for Cass' bedroom. I've always intended to do some colourful paintings for her room, but have never gotten around to it.
I thought I could knock it off in one night, just like I did with the belly one, but I forgot why I prefer painting on skin to painting on any other surface. Paint just glides across skin and you can be so quick about it. This took 5 nights, so maybe 12 hours of painting, compared with 2.5 hrs to do on my belly. That was 12 hours I could have used to be doing more practical things, like getting the house ready for the new bub......but oh well. Cass has something nice in her room finally, which is good.

Anyway, this is the first painting I have done since high school that I have actually finished, and also done just for the fun of it. I've done a few things as gifts for others, but nothing just for the love of painting. So it was nice.

All of my art supplies are sealed up in a big box now destined for the shed, as I pursue my main calling of motherhood. Maybe one day I'll open it up again, and hopefully everything will still be in working order.

Putting away my art stuff has made me a little sad, but I am glad I got to do something nice before hanging up my paint brushes :)

I was talking to my friend the other day, who has one 15 month old, is around my age and also a (former?) artist. We were wondering how many parts of ourselves we'd have to 'put on the shelf' to really pursue mothering to our fullest, and realising how much we had already, without even realising it.

I recounted to her a tale from my childhood, which is that my two sisters and I all have some degree of artistic ability, and we had all assumed that it was inherited from my father, who would leave beautiful little drawings of intricate motorcycles around the house, on the telephone pad etc. It was not until I was in my teens, that I found out that motorcycles were the ONLY thing my father could draw, from years of practice whilst not listening in school, and that my mother had been into art from a young age.

Then likewise, I realised that although my sisters and I were all avid readers, like my father, my mother had once devoured book after book until raising us took away the time she had for that pursuit also. I found out she was an avid reader too, as we became older teens and she began to read for herself again.

As a young'un, I have to say it blew my mind that my mum had had a life before us. It had just never occurred to me. Now I wonder, as my 3 large bookshelves full of fiction are gathering dust...will my children realise their mother has/had talents and interests besides whipping up some awesome meals and doing french braids?

It doesn't make me sad to (temporarily I hope!) lose these parts of myself. But it's nice to have a reminder now on Cass' wall, that once upon a time, I DID have hobbies!

Sometimes when life is very full, I feel quite empty.

2009-11-20T08:18:00.000+10:00

The keyword for this entire post, not to mention my entire life at the moment is BUSY.
I am not yet overwhelmed, but mostly because since becoming a mum, I no longer let worrying thoughts go around and around in my head. I have learned some mental self control and can just stop thinking about things that are vexing.
Bub is now due in about 11 weeks, and I have not yet organised everything I need for our homebirth. I am hoping that I will get an awesome nesting instinct this pregnancy, instead of the 'lie-about-like-a-whale' instinct I got in late pregnancy last time.
Roughly, my list goes like this:
-Buy stuff that is needed for bubby #2: ie cot etc.
-Start collecting towels from 2nd hand stores and other items needed for the birth, organise them to be IN THE ONE CONVENIENT LOCATION.
-Rearrange rooms to fit new cot, bub's clothes/blankies/nappies etc.
-De-clutter the ENTIRE house.
-If at all possible, sew the things that I need to get done before bub arrives.
-Stop reading escapist fiction novels when I should be getting things done!
-Stop doing 'fun' tasks, like tie-dying baby singlets, when I could be doing something more useful and necessary first.

Now, this could all theoretically be done in 11 weeks. But, there is SO much going on between now and my due date. Most notably Christmas, with 3 separate HUGE family celebrations taking place this year, on different days, and we have to go to all of them, as they are all very special this year.
I am in complete denial about Christmas. I haven't bought a thing. I was planning on making candies and giving everyone candy bags, but recently realised just how many people I would have to make them for, and how much work it would be. However, so many people are coming for the various celebrations, and we will be expected to buy for many of them, which we just can't afford. So I am still thinking about that.
If I think too much though, I stress, so I think I'll wait till the last available opportunity to sort that out. I will admit to saying to Stephen, completely thoughtlessly, in one of my 'Christmas Freak Out' moments, 'It's so inconvenient that your parents are divorced, you know?'......which did not go down well at all, and was one of those moments when you just take a step back from yourself and think 'Did I just say that? Am I really that selfish??' and kind of get all quiet and ashamed.

Among the Christmas chaos, is Stephen's father's visit from Singapore with his new wife, which is taking place from this coming weekend till mid-December. None of Stephen's father's family have met Cass yet, so we'll be going to all sorts of things, all over town for the next little while, which is great, and exciting....but BUSY.

AND there are the birthday's of- My mother, Stephen's mother, my sister and my father's 50th, which will be very big; all of which take place within several weeks either side of Christmas. And if I'm being really mean and Scroogish, a small part of my brain says: 'That's 4 more gifts to buy.'

Now, outside of just our family, there are MANY other Christmas and birthday parties of friends that will be happening, and I think I'm just going to politely turn down invitations to all of them, as my brain might implode if I don't.

All of this is doing my head in, but more than anything else, it is making me feel farther and farther from God. Stephen and I have discussed the both of us going through quite a dry spot for some months now, and the busier I have gotten, the heavier I have felt in my spirit.
I have no idea what the immediate future holds, and I can't see past this baby being born, but I am really longing for a slowness! Just a time of rest and quiet with God, and to feel restored. I pray that it comes sooner rather than later!

Belly Painting

2009-11-12T08:14:00.000+10:00

A few nights ago I decided to do a belly painting before it got any bigger! I am 28 weeks at the moment.

I decided to paint a phoenix because I have never drawn one before, but there seemed like a lot of potential for colour, and I could make it into a roundy shape.
Bear in mind when looking at it that the entire bottom half of the phoenix was painted backwards in a mirror, because I couldn't see past my belly button. So the brush strokes are very messy. Also, little bub was pretty active at the time, me having just eaten dinner, so that made it difficult too. Anyway, here are the pics :)

Yes Darling, mango's are one of the many ways that God shows us that He loves us.

2009-10-01T19:24:00.001+10:00

Quick Stuff

2009-09-17T09:01:00.001+10:00

These last few weeks I've been:

- Sewing some cloth liners for the inevitable pregnancy panty liner needs. I wasn't going to bother, but having used cloth pads just once before I fell pregnant, I can't foresee going back to using disposable, mostly due to the comfort factor. I can still remember how awfully uncomfortable disposables feel once you've tried cloth. The first time I used cloth pads, it just blew my mind and I thought: 'I can't believe I've been letting myself use disposables for so long!' They're far inferior in my mind.

Here they are, pretty quickly thrown together, just flannel with a layer of terry cloth in the middle. Ignore the dodgy stitching, I seem to recall making them late at night.

- Re-purposing some old t-shirts to be made into little summer dresses and rompers for Cass. I have mountains of clothes that I never wear anymore, and have been meaning to get rid of, but plenty of them are still useful. I also have been given a subscription (thank you husband!) to Ottobre magazine, and really want to make a lot of the clothes, but cannot really justify the cost of the pretty fabrics I will want to purchase. So I am going to go op-shopping for old clothes and maybe some remnants to see what I can find.

Here's the first dress I've made for her. (Will be making some scrunchy pants in pink to go underneath some night soon.) Also, this was my first attempt at applique, which went well, so yay.

-We went to Mt Tambourine, and let Cass run wild in the Botanical Gardens up there. It was awesome! She did not stop running for about 45 minutes...or giggling. She had so much fun, and Stephen and I really enjoyed her enjoyment :) Here are some quick photos.

That's pretty much everything noteworthy, although I am making some head-way with my new found knitting skills.

What I have learned this week

-Due to the arrival of some truly heinous toddler poopy nappies, I am guessing my colostrum has come in. Also, Cass (who was showing signs of weaning due to my milk having dried up) has become a boob addict. It's doing my head in! She is demanding boob so much throughout the day and I am unused to feeling like I want my body to myself. (Cass is known for her breast refusal and fussiness. I've spent our whole BFing relationship trying to convince her to keep feeding.) Any flash of skin and she's right there asking for milk. This has given rise to some concerns about tandem nursing. I thought she wouldn't be very interested, but now I am worried about her wanting it as much as the new baby. Stephen, surprisingly, hasn't told me to wean her, but suggested that maybe I want to start instituting regular feed times with her, and sticking with them when the baby is born. Nice that he's not automatically negative, though I think he still secretly wants her weaned.

-I've learned how to spell Diarrhea. Ohh...its a bad bad week when you finally pin down how to spell that word. (Or maybe I'm the only one who never knows how to spell it?) After a trip down to the hospital one night last week for an impacted wisdom tooth, I was one codeine and antibiotics, causing much digestive anguish. (And a new-found joy in the fact that I haven't thus far suffered from vomiting in this pregnancy.) After much vomiting with my toddler standing near-by and giggling (Coughing makes her laugh), I am SO grateful that I didn't get morning sickness badly this time.
Then this week, after all was well again with my tooth (it won't have to come out till after the baby is born thank goodness.) I had a bad bout of food poisoning, and I won't get too graphic, but I will say that I have never experienced vomiting out of my nose before. And I've decided that on my top list for Ways Not to Die Please, is cholera.

- I've learned about the use of 'family cloth' and am seriously contemplating it's use.

And that's about it for the week :)

To Whom it May Concern

2009-09-01T11:48:00.000+10:00

Dear Swine-Flu Paranoid Crazy Person,

Please do not give me such scathing LOOKS whenever I sneeze or blow my nose in public. It's called pregnancy, and it's NOT contagious.

Sincerely,
Lauren.

I'm having a baby, what's the big deal?

2009-09-01T09:16:00.000+10:00

For some misguided reason I thought that having a home birth this time around would be less hassle. I knew that I would be responsible for more of the decision making, and that was just fine with me, but the co-ordination with my GP, and now with booking in to a back-up hospital is starting to make my head spin.

I am hoping that once that's all sorted, it will just be home visit check-ups with my midwife, and then, you know, the BIRTH. Woo!

However, even having to make decisions about the birth is somewhat stressful, due to the fact that discussing many things with my husband can be like tearing off my arm and hitting myself over the head with it repeatedly. Oh, when I say discussion, I should really be saying 'discussion'. We argue. But we ultimately resolve things amicably. It's working for us. (For now!)

So anyway, the latest source of disharmony has been- to ultrasound or not to ultrasound? I am 17 weeks at the moment and have an appointment for the routine morphology scan for 20 weeks, and am most likely going to cancel it now. This is due to the fact that my husband has now been denied leave from work for that day, and I am absolutely not going to a scan by myself. For a variety of reasons. I was against having a routine ultrasound in the first place, but now I am starting to get paranoid and thinking that maybe, if I am having a home birth, I should be having an ultrasound to, you know, make sure everything is in order. But at the same time, I trust my body, and birth, and the main worry (placenta praevia) that I have, is something my midwife says she will be able to detect herself anyway.

But all this thinking and well, stressing, is annoying me so much. Even the little things, like getting indignant that my booking-in hospital wants me to have a routine HIV test (when I have no risk factors what-so-ever for HIV) because everyone does. And my husband has been scared by our GP into thinking I should be having ALL available routine tests this pregnancy, to minimise the 'risks' of a home birth. Including the test for gestational diabetes (which he knows nothing about, and frankly, to me is ridiculous.)

So more and more I am getting disgruntled about being 'managed' by, well, everyone.

I am starting to have fantasies of wearing a long flowing, colourful dress with flowers in my hair, and walking away through a forest to give birth in complete privacy. And because this is a total fantasy, I have knee length hair, and there is a bubbling brook near-by, and after the baby is born and happily breastfeeding (I suppose it has to be a pleasantly warm day), the local forest fauna (deer with big eyes, squirrels with big eyes etc) come out from behind the trees to check out the new baby. And then they go away and we find a moss carpeted, sun-dappled glade where we lie down together, the babe wrapped in the folds of my dress, cuddled into my chest, and we sleep.

Did I mention that I still haven't gotten around to capturing that elusive nap yet? I may be going crazy.

Seriously though, I am really starting to value privacy in this pregnancy, and in the forthcoming birth, which makes me so glad of finding the midwife that we did. (Much more of a hands-off type I think.) I really feel like she is God's provision for us at this time.

My very clearest memory of Cass' birth is the very end, after she had been taken out (vacuum) and whisked away. I went from having my eyes shut and being in a foggy pain world of chaos, to absolute clarity in about 2 seconds flat. In my moment of absolute clarity I realised:
-I was completely naked. Something I was completely unaware of, but realistically, had been naked for about 8 hours.
-I was in stirrups.
-There was an OB between my legs, couldn't see his face.
-There were around 4 complete strangers behind the OB, looking in my general direction. One lady's face I remember very clearly, she had a look of deep interest on her face and was looking over the OB's shoulder at my groin.

There were also a few people behind a screen doing something with Cass, and my midwife up near my shoulder. It was CROWDED. So yeah, this time, privacy.

A few days ago a good friend asked on behalf of her sister (who is doing her degree in midwifery) if I would be a follow-through patient for her. She has to follow 10 pregnant women as case-studies throughout her degree, attending their check-ups and birth, with interviews along the way. While I totally appreciate how hard it is for her to find women willing to work with her, and I think a home birth would be a great experience for her (and possibly one of the few drug and intervention free births she may get to attend), I just had to say no. It's so important to me this time around to have a private, intimate family birth.

Am I being precious? Maybe. But if I am, I think it's mostly a reaction to my previous experience. Anyway, this time I am following my instincts instead of falling in line, and really, I think my baby and I will be better off for it.

I'm officially a bad mother.

2009-08-25T11:29:00.000+10:00

Cass is starting to copy vowel sounds, which is exciting, because she hasn't really shown any interest in talking up until now.
She can say 'Dat' and point, which services her pretty well, and I've taught her to say 'Ta', which makes me feel like a I'm doing a reasonable job.
She says Mama, Dada, Nana, and na-na-na (banana).

The copying vowel sounds has been really funny for the last few days, because she'll just throw any old consonants in there, and after a few repetitions, I can mostly work out what she is saying.

However, last night while I was making dinner, she said and did something that is just too embarrassing for me! I normally have the television on while I cook, and she isn't really interested in it, although she pauses to clap if she hears the audience clap (I watch Deal or No Deal for 1/2 an hour whilst cooking.) I was telling myself that as soon as she started showing real interest in the tv, I would turn it off when she was around, but it seems I am too late!

A couple of times, during Deal or No Deal, I noticed that she had started to cross her arms occassionally when pausing to look at the tv. It occurred to me that she was maybe copying the 'No Deal' sign the contestants make, but I hoped not. Anyway, last night after I turned it off, I noticed she was crossing her arms alot, and when I went over to her, she was crossing them and saying 'Yo-de-yol, yo-de-yol' (No deal). :( :( :(

So the television will be off in the evening from now on, but I feel terrible that one of her first words/phrases is 'no deal'!!

Latest Stuff

2009-08-20T08:51:00.000+10:00

These last few weeks have really run me down! We've had something on every weekend, and something is going on with Cass that I can't figure out, and her naps have gone south.
So the tiredness has hit me hard! I was so gung-ho about housework and my GIANT pre-baby to-do list, and I had knocked a few big ticket items off (from the cleaning side of the list too, not just the craft side) But I still am behind my goals.

Last week I had my first ante-natal meeting with my midwife, which was mostly paperwork, but I got to hear little baby's heartbeat, which was surprisingly exciting :D I have been so busy with Cass, I guess the reality of the pregnancy hadn't hit me yet, and when I heard the heartbeat I just thought: 'Wow! There's a baby in there!' I have since started to feel baby move, which is so cute! I have given Stephen a heads-up that I will probably tell him every time bubsy moves when he is around for the next few weeks at least. This baby is a little tickler, whereas with Cass I never felt 'butterflies' like they describe, just tiny little solid biffs. Cass went on to be the most active baby I could have anticipated, so I am hoping this one is more placid!!

I am REALLY enjoying this pregnancy. I am tired, but I am having a great 2nd trimester, whereas with Cass it was all hard for the whole 9 months. I was even able to rest more with her than I am this time, but I still feel better this time around. If all my pregnancies were this good, I think I'd just keep on having babies! I really feel like it's a blessing, and the very different pregnancy gives me hope for a very different birth.

Last night I finally got around to sewing myself a new ring sling that fits me properly. The first one I made strictly according to the pattern, but the excess that hangs from the rings goes down to my knees, because I guess the pattern was made with bigger people than me in mind. I also used some of the awesome batik material I picked up awhile ago to make cloth pads. Here it is:

I also made this one with a fold-out shoulder support bit, as I didn't with the first, which is fine for a toddler on hip position, but not so great for the newborn ones, which I will be using this one for soon.

The cloth pads, by the way, never ended up being completed, as I fell pregnant and didn't need them. I will finish them in time for the birth, and hopefully come up with a good pattern for some awesome maternity pads, for immediately post-birth.

In home-birth planning news, we have run into a problem with our GP and home birth midwife having some sort of misunderstanding (?) Not sure on the details, but she sent her introductory letter to him, and he sent a somewhat angry fax back (which I don't have a copy of), so we have to head into the doctors to sort that one out this weekend. (So don't need the stress! This was supposed to be my restful weekend.) So I am praying that this works out, because I need a cooperative GP in order to secure meds and things for the birth. Plus our GP is a family friend of several decades, so we really do want things smoothed over.

That's about all I have time to update with for now, I have a sink full of dishes with my name on it and a sleeping toddler.

Real life got in the way of blogging.

2009-08-04T09:35:00.000+10:00

I started this blog some months back with lots of enthusiasm, but in April I took a complete break from the internet (after leaving the forum that I was inspired to start this blog from) I just needed to get my head in a better place and didn't need the distraction anymore.

I'm back from my break though, and lots has happened that I need to catch up.

Firstly, I am again expecting a new baby :) This is surprise baby number two, and this time I panicked more than Stephen. Stephen flipped out when we fell pregnant with Cass (we had only been married for 4 months though) and didn't really recover till she was born. This time I was overwhelmed and he was frustratingly level-headed about the news!
Oh well, I came to terms with it quickly, and now am in super-planning mode! There is A LOT to be done.

Firstly we had to decided whether to move or to try to stay here. 'Here' is a little rented kit home, that is very very small (But has a little closed in backyard, so it gets points for that) Moving poses lots of problems, some financial, others geographical, and how could I fail to mention the huge amount of WORK involved??
So for now it looks like we are staying put, and we will have to try to downsize, rearrange, and figure out some sleeping arrangements for us all when the new baby comes. (At the moment I am thinking of a side-car cot arrangement, and then slowly teach them to share a very little room which will fit two little beds and not a lot else.)

We are also lucky enough to be having a home-birth this time around, after a pretty awful hospital experience with Cass. The baby is due in early Feb, so it will definitely be legal to have our midwife, and hopefully will be in the future too! (For more about the homebirth legislation insanity going on in Australia at the moment, read a different blog! It's too emotional a topic for me to blog about)

I am also still breastfeeding Cass (once in the morning and sometimes once again after a nap). My milk is almost non-existent but I am really really hoping she will keep it up and I can tandem nurse the two little ones. Cass is about 14 months old at the moment, and I planned for her to have milk for a lot longer than she did, so I hope and pray that it will all work out. If she weans while I am pregnant, I want to let her come back to the breast when new bubby is born is she wants to, or encourage her back if she has no interest. (Stephen is currently against this, but we'll see what happens). If she won't come back, I am prepared to express so she can have my milk in a cup daily (which I can't see being a problem as I have never known her to say no to any food substance whatsoever), which Stephen has no problem with. I want to avoid it however, just because pumping is a hassle that I want to steer clear of this time if I can. (Had to pump with Cass quite a lot due to breast refusal early on, then low supply. I was pumping on and off for various reasons up until I fell pregnant)

In other news, I have been teaching myself to knit again (useful things, not just scarves!!) and am working on a jacket for the new baby. Which is hard, because how on earth can you tell what size your 5 month old will be in advance? Cass was flipping enormous at 5 months, but now she's a very petite 1 year old, and how can you tell? Oh well, if it doesn't work out I can always re-gift it. Oh, and I hand-dyed the wool for it myself.
Here is it in progress.

This is dyeing the wool.

This is the wool when it is finished, in a ball, and once it's knitted.

So that's been fun :)
I have to stop here because the little one is awake. Hopefully I will update again soon!

Life is Peachy

2009-04-10T21:45:00.000+10:00

I just have to share (don't know who with, because as far as I know, no one has read this blog. :D) how much I love my life at the moment!
I am happy with my marriage, Cass-potato is just a delight and I drink in her cuteness all day long, I have so many crafty things to keep me busy, and my house is relatively clean too. Hurrah!
So here's a quick breakdown of what's going on.
I am making head-way on the cloth sanitary pads. I am having some great ideas too about making a business for them, as I have had a fair bit of interest (mostly IRL, but others have shown a small amount of interest on the net). I think most of the cloth pads for sale (on structured business websites, not on WAHM sites) are ugly, both with the fabric and in design, and unappealing. I think I can create a product that is appealing, even to teenagers! My grand vision is seeing cloth pads in major supermarkets. :) (Dreaming big eh?) I managed to get my little 15 year old sis from 'Cloth pads???? EW!!!' to 'Can you make me some?? They're so pretty!' in about 5 minutes flat. (After a brief spiel on the benefits of going cloth.) Even my mum wants some now :)

In other news, my MIL sold her house and is moving closer to us (yay!), and we were helping her pack up some stuff today, and she let me....*deep breath* Go through her crate (YES crate!) of yarn and take what I wanted!!! *wrings hands in glee*. I got about 8 balls, as I'm very choosy about colours. So....presenting, my entire current collection of yarn, laid out for a sumptuous feast of colourful yarny goodness!!!

And of course, today is Good Friday, and I have been giving lots of thought to how I am going to incorporate the importance of Easter in my family's holidays. More specifically, I want my kids to grow up with some family traditions that honour Jesus' sacrifice on the Friday, and celebrate his resurrection on the Sunday. And not pig out too much on chocolate :)
So, I haven't gotten very far, but am so far thinking that on the Friday night, we will have a family worship, prayer, and share Holy Communion together as a family. At first, the sharing of Holy Communion without a church or a pastor kind of irked me, but I was challenged by a good friend (who is himself a pastor) that where is the Bible does it say that Communion must be officiated? Doesn't Jesus simply say: 'Do this in remembrance of me'? So this Easter, that is what we will be doing.

I hope everyone (ha! No one reads this blog!) has a great Easter, and if you are going away, drive safe, and don't eat too much junk!

Pondering my domestic existence.

2009-04-06T08:09:00.000+10:00

This week I was watching tv/surfing the internet/reading a book(???), and heard about a study that was done on young men in their early twenties and what they would look for in a wife. (Ah, I got it!! It was in an article in Harper's Bazaar) Anyway, almost all of them prioritized their future wife's earning potential, over any domestic ability, including cooking skill etc. They also stated resentment over the possibility of being a sole provider for a family. This seriously depressed me for quite some time, and has been stuck in the back of my mind since I read it.

Now I hold some pretty traditional views of the family unit, ie, Man works, woman has babies, cooks dinner, does washing, sex is negotiable ;) Man can be expected to pull his weight around the house in times of high work loads (new baby, sick mother etc), but all in all, as I see it a man has the responsibility to provide for his family, and lead them. The woman looks after the home and needs of the family.

If a man's main responsibility is to provide for the family, and a woman's is now to do this also, along with child raising and home-duties, do we then assume that the man takes up a portion of the child-raising and home-duties? In some families, this is the case, but recent studies show that women still do 3/4 of the housework in families where both partners work equal hours (paid-work) and have children. I'm not saying that a negotiated shared parenting/working/house-keeping arrangement doesn't work for some people, just that it makes things alot more complicated, and obviously that when two people's resources are overstretched and they are operating outside of their natural functioning, some things get left behind. Or as Paul says in the New Testament 'All things are permissible for me, but not everything is beneficial.' (I am hopeless at quoting exact scriptures, so will look up which book/verse that is later and edit.)

I guess I am just frustrated because I feel that there is a natural order that is being put out of whack. In lots of areas. So where are we now? Men have abdicated responsibility in providing for families and effectively sub-let a portion of family providing to women. Women in turn have taken up this mantle and abdicated on the child-raising, by paying child-care centres to do a portion of this for them, and abdicated some house-hold duties and sub-let these out (My husband works in advertising and says that domestic cleaning services are where the big bucks are at the moment.)

Oh, and mother's milk is medically suppressed and their babies are being given modified cows milk, which is provided by cows who have their calves taken away at birth in order to give this milk to humans. EVERYONE JUST DRINK YOUR OWN MILK DARNIT! .......Sorry for going off topic there. My husband says I can take any topic and magically relate it back to babies, birth or breastfeeding.....Oh well.

Well, that's the end of that rant. So to recap, I love to cook, keep my house clean, look after bubs and DH, and feel that I am living within my natural order, which may or may not be an acceptable way of living to everyone. I recognise that other families have other arrangements that work for them, and as long as everyone's happy, great. This small rant was not a judgment on other mothers at all....just on selfish young men who need to step up and be a man.

END RANT. >.<

In other news, I have been working on the following projects-

This misshapen and lumpy circle is going to be an awesome bag in which to keep my growing pile of yarn and my crochet projects.

This awesome material is going to become the top layer of some cloth sanitary pads that I will be sewing, just as soon as my PUL and hemp terry come in the mail. So excited. Being thrifty is my current obsession :D

Oh, and I am planning to knit or crochet a pretty coloured placenta bag, and covering it with little crochets from this book:
I have ordered it from my book club, and it should arrive this week, hurrah!
My husband maintains that I will NOT make a placenta bag, and will NOT be having a lotus birth next time around, but we'll see about that :)

And that's news for this week.

Beginner's efforts at crochet.

2009-04-01T20:57:00.000+10:00

Well, to kick off my new blog, I will post a photo of my latest crafty efforts.
The following is a skirt I made for my daughter. It started out as a pinafore, but I ran out of wool, and also, when I tried it on around her mid-section, I realised that I had made it in a tube shape, which was a mistake, as I had forgotten how cute and roundy a baby's belly is. It made her belly so pronounced. Not that I have a thing about little bellies poking out, just that it made it look like a maternity outfit. Cute to me, but generally weird.
Anyway, here is the skirt on Cass-potato.

I have to say that I am a crochet convert. I have knitted for years, but never attempted crochet due to my mistaken belief that it was harder. Anyway, it is so much fun and so much easier! Also harder to stuff up. I wish I could afford more wool so I can crochet more often......Maybe I should buy a sheep :)