Lots of firsts

We've had a few firsts here this week. Jack started walking on Friday morning. I suspect his primary motivation in finally using his legs may be laziness. If it is I know he got that from me - I'm so proud. He wanted to get from the kitchen cupboard to his wooden walker. It was about two steps worth - not really worth the effort of getting down on his knees, crawling, and getting back up again. So he went for it - two whole steps! I was washing the dishes and almost missed the whole thing. Which made me wonder if he hasn't been walking behind my back for ages Lou and Andy style. He's a little bit wobbly and tends to launch himself at whatever he is walking towards - me generally. He looks very, very proud of himself. And I am extremely overexcited! Who knew such a simple thing could give you such a buzz.

I am baby - see me stand!

Also this week Jack started 'posting' items in the bin. I didn't realise this until I emptied the bin and found my old mobile phone nestling underneath the bin bag. I did wonder prior to that where my wooden spoon had gone but figured it would turn up sooner or later. It seems that my potato masher has also been sent for recycling. I'm not sure what other items we've lost thanks to 'Frugal Fischler'.

Jack went on a swing for the first time yesterday - loved it!



In another first, Alexis and I hired a babysitter and headed out for some couple time. As a nod in the direction of romance, I put on make-up and upgraded my usual uniform of Bonds nursing vest and K-mart pants which have-seen-better-days to proper underwear. I even shaved my legs. We went out and stuffed ourselves full of Thai food followed by substandard Argentinian ice cream. The streets were full of kids wearing their beer coats and not much else - which never ceases to amaze me when it's cold outside. Alexis said we had marked ourselves as 'old' by walking along in our sensible coats and him wearing a beanie. But I reckon I always wore a coat in winter. Crazy kids. At 10 o'clock we dutifully headed home and lay, stupidly full of food, in front of the TV until almost comatose. Alas, a full stomach and romance of the jiggy jiggy variety are sorely incompatible.

As punishment for going out without him Jack woke up every few hours throughout the night. He does have a blocked nose and conjunctivitis but still. In an unusual turn of events we did manage to get him to sleep in till 9am. Small mercies.

Misnomer baby

So the other first is that Jack has suspected conjunctivitis. Which makes nursery a bit awkward as Alexis and I must assess who has the greater need to be at work on Monday. I read somewhere that breast milk is great for clearing it up. And what do you know it works! I mean, like, in minutes:

INTERESTING FACT: Many people treat conjunctivitis by applying a small amount of breast milk to the affected eye. A particular antibody in the breast milk, called immunoglobulin A, prevents the pink eye bacteria from attaching to the mucosal surface of the eye. This limits the growth of the bacteria, helping to end the eye infection.

So we might both be going to work on Monday - keep those fingers crossed.

Top tip for readers - ask a lactating woman to help you out next time your eyes get sore. Of course she won't think you're weird. She is just waiting for the opportunity to squirt milk in your eye.

Happy Birthday Jack!

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Retrospective of Jack is on hold while I continue with keeping on top of very important activities such as washing, cooking, bathing. In the meantime...

Jack is bathed, ready for bed and zipped into his sleeping bag. He is having a rummage through his book drawer - all the cupboards/drawers within reach of Jack are now his. As he gets taller and more mobile we are gradually relocating all dangerous/adult items higher and higher up throughout the house. The house gets gradually messier over time as we run out of high-altitude storage space for our things.

Alexis is on his way home from his Friday night treat - swim, sauna and jacuzzi. Hopefully armed with a bottle of wine and some takeaway.

We had a little tea party for Jack's birthday on Sunday. He was taking a nap when most the guests arrived and was initially somewhat perplexed as to why the living room was full of big people. He received lots of lovely toys and clothes. Thanks everyone who came to the party and everyone who posted him presents :)



He got his very first pair of shoes. I tried putting them on him on Monday for nursery but he cried until I took them off again.

Everyone talks about how fast the first year goes. I guess time always looks condensed when you're looking back. For me it feels like it's been a long year! I guess we did a lot with our round-the-world trip in the middle. I'm sure it won't seem like long before I turn around to see a strapping 16 year old in front of me and I'll wonder where my baby went.

I am back at work three days a week. After an initial few weeks of guilt settling Jack into nursery we all seem to be managing with the new set-up. Work is brilliant - if only because I get some time to myself away from Jack. It's hard being parents without family nearby. You rarely get a break. When Jack is on an even keel and you are well rested it's all good and manageable. Today for example, apart from a small meltdown in the supermarket because he was due for a nap - my fault for pushing him too far - he was so cute and smiley and he has started to throw his arms round my neck for a hug. When it's like that he's a pleasure to be with. But sometimes you're tired, Jack's tired, or teething or just whingeing for the sake of whingeing and it wears you down...then you think...WHY exactly did I think it was a good idea to have a baby???!!

All the new stages seem overwhelmingly unmanageable at the start like going back to work and putting Jack in childcare. Then suddenly you get into the swing of it and it doesn't seem any harder than anything you've done before. I'm only working three days a week which makes a massive difference. I don't have any mum-guilt about my baby spending more time with strangers than with me. And the house doesn't get too out of control in those three days.

It is a massively life-changing thing having a baby. Everyone tells you so but you can't fully comprehend it until it happens to you. So if you like things the way they are....don't have any kids! Although sometimes your hormones make the decision for you and then you just have to make the best of it.

It is cool watching him grow and learn. I love the way he watches the world so intently. The way he wants to touch and explore everything - except for the way he always wants to play with the laptop when I'm on it. That's just plain annoying. The way he is figuring out how things work. They go from small and helpless to, well still pretty small and helpless but he can do things now like help you get him undressed. When he's holding onto the bathtub he helps you out by lifting one leg then the other when you take his jeans off and then swapping his hands over when you take his top off. It's so cute!

Hope this post find everyone happy and healthy.
Kisses from Oz
xxxx

Party photos are here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=273494&id=855875421&l=6d63f3deb0

Baby Jack facts for trivia buffs:

Weight: 9400g
Height: 73.5cm
Favourite toy: Saucepans
Favourite food: Banana, Corn on the cob
First words: Banana, Hiya/Hola (whilst simultaneously holding a phone or calculator to his head)
Likes: The toilet, putting the toilet seat up and down,dropping things in the toilet, pressing all the keys on the laptop, making Indian 'woh-woh-woh' noises with his hand over his mouth, seeing how far he can throw food in the kitchen.

Retrospective of Jack - Part I

Retrospective of Jack - Part I

Jack is almost one year old – unbelievably! I’m writing a retrospective of our first year as a family for Jack to read when he’s older. It’s a bit longer than I thought it would be. And as yet unfinished. So I’m publishing it in segments.

It’s been an incredible year - veering from incredibly amazing to incredibly rubbish. Having a baby throws everything off kilter. I seem to have experienced the full spectrum of my emotions and well beyond – sometimes on a daily basis.

I’m not sure we’ve regained our balance yet.

So here we are, with a short, not-so-bald-any-more, one year old guy sharing our apartment. Our little man. When he’s tucked up in bed and I have a window of calm, a respite from the constant demands, I think about him and he makes my heart swell. I feel total unconditional love - because he can annoy the hell out of me and I can think dark, dark thoughts about being his mother – but I always come back to this place. He has taken over our lives. We will belong to him forever.

We must remember to enjoy these sweet days of dependence while he is ours too.

Let’s take a look back over the year shall we?

Birth

Man, what a trip that was! And I didn’t even get to try the drugs...

You know where that head came out of don't you?

It seems that every baby arrives on a bed of nervous anticipation. We don’t know when you will decide to put in an appearance. We don’t know how it’s going to work out.

Pushing you out into the world was, in a word, painful. Not the rest of the birth. Those surges were a picnic compared to your entry. Or exit depending on how you look at it. Feeling myself stretch open beyond the limits of my skin. Resting, then racked by waves and my body pushing, pushing you down while my mind raced, struggled, trying to rationalise what was happening to me. But how can you rationalise something so primordial?

On my knees, bent over with my hands gripping the end of the bed with all my might. I could feel you taking up all the space between my legs and the midwife pulling my leg further out to make room for you. Barely a millimetre of movement. With every surge my body pushed you down and my mind pulled you back. How could I push when it was hurting me more every time? No one chooses to hurt themselves. What sane person volunteers to put their hand in the fire?

I began to sense the panic in their voices. It was taking too long to push you out. I saw the light reflect on the blade behind me. I knew the midwife would cut me if she had to. For your sake. I remembered why I was here and suddenly I feared for you, literally wedged between two worlds. It was my responsibility to deliver you safely.

‘One more big push,’ she said. ‘You can get the baby out on the next contraction. Just one more really big push…you can do this’. I needed to hear that. With those words I waited for the surge to come, I gripped, I readied myself and when it rolled over me I pushed. So help me God I pushed. One last long low groan and suddenly…pop! The sweetest feeling of release as you slid into the world.

Your dad, hovering down the ‘business end’ helped the midwife catch you. No mean feat – you babies are slippery customers. We wanted the cord to stop pulsating before it was cut and since you had been caught from behind me as it were, the midwife put you on the floor between my legs.

I hadn’t envisioned this. In my mind I was already reclining on the bed and someone would hand me my calm baby. I looked down at you, this small, slippery, slightly blue and loudly screaming thing. With a small shock I registered your boy bits. ‘Well,’ said the midwife, ‘Go on - pick him up’.

I reached for you. I held you against me as they helped me onto the bed. Again – no mean feat with shaky post-birth legs, a short umbilical cord and your slippery little body desperately clasped against my stomach. Please don’t let me drop him!

We got onto the bed. They covered us with blankets. My whole body started to shake. The shock, apparently, of giving birth. You screamed. I looked at Alexis. He looked at me. We looked at you. You continued to scream. I asked the midwife if this was normal. She shrugged. Or at least in my memory she shrugged.

Eventually you stopped screaming and started to look at us. We said hello. Finally we meet. You were so handsome. So completely perfect. I was enthralled. The midwife helped you latch on and you breastfed for the first time. I was physically exhausted but on a huge emotional high. We did it!

The happy and tired family

***WORLD FIRST*** Plastic woman gives birth to large blanket

Chicken Pox Emergency!

On Wednesday I was feeling good, eating my corn for lunch, you know, just another regular day.

In the afternoon we went over to play with Barbara and Lola. I started to feel a bit warm and lethargic. When mum got me home and undressed me for the bath she found some red spots on my body. 'Uh oh,' she said. 'I think someone has chicken pox!'

The next day I had even more spots - even on my face. Mum told me I was still handsome. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself I can tell you.

We weren't having a good time at home so mum took me to the seaside for a walk. She rugged me up good and proper. I enjoyed the invigorating sea air.

We read up on the Internet about chicken pox and someone said that a bath with baking soda could help stop the itching. Well, I was ready to try just about anything.


That night was a low point for me. I was so itchy I couldn't fall asleep. Mum tucked me into bed with her but not even that helped. At 11pm mum went to the late-night chemist to buy some calamine lotion. It didn't seem to do much apart from making me look like a ghost.

I slept in fits and starts. At 4am Dad had a tantrum and insisted we go to the emergency room at the children's hospital. Mum and me tried to lay quietly and pretend we couldn't hear him but he just got more insistent.

We drove to hospital. Dad parked the car while mum explained the situation to the nurse. She said there was nothing they could do. Mum asked if a doctor could see me to confirm it was chicken pox so Dad could hear it from someone official.

We saw a lovely doctor. I showed her how good I am at climbing and standing up.

'He looks pretty happy,' the doctor remarked.

The doctor said it WAS chicken pox and there was nothing they could give me on account of my age. But that Dad should get checked out since he's never had it. She also politely suggested we go to our GP rather than ER so we wouldn't infect other children with our highly contagious virus.

Anyway I'm feeling much better now - even though I look like I've hit puberty early. A tip for any readers with chicken pox - chickweed cream has been a blessing with the itching.


Old wives tale say touching toilet seat is good for chicken pox...

Anzac Day

It's Anzac Day here in Australia. What is the point of a bank holiday on a Saturday?

Having a baby is probably somewhat like enlisting in the army during wartime. You really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into until it’s too late.

Once the war is in full swing, you may say to yourself ‘hey I really didn’t sign up for this’. But the voice in the back of your head says ‘oh yes you did’.

I guess that's where the analogy ends since parenthood doesn't normally involve being shot at. Unless you can count projectile vomit.

Now that Jack is nearly ten months I’ve stopped yearning for my old life – a place of spontaneity, beer and regular sex. What would we do every day?! Our lives are wrapped so completely around serving his royal whingiepops with groundhog-esque activities.

Here is a progress report on the little man:

Teeth: Six (two at the bottom and four on top)
Temperament: Happy albeit slightly clingy and whingey. Could be due to mild separation anxiety or teething. Or God only knows what.
Sleeping: Good!!! Has been known to sleep for ten hour stretches. Not every night but he is very quick to re-settle if he does wake up. Hallelujah and touch wood.
Favourite food: Oranges (just like daddy). Penne Bolognaise. Hmm, orange foods in general. Hope this isn't some weird OCD tendency.


Favourite book: Christmas Peekaboo!
Favourite toy: A mirror that plays tunes when you touch it. Has been known to kiss his reflection. Anything that is not a toy. Drawers are a particular favourite.
Motor skills: Crawling, pulling himself up to standing, waving, biting.

More photos from April here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=243817&id=855875421&l=3f80c8a25e

Having safely circumnavigated the globe I’m now back in Melbourne. The flight was great – first class service all the way. I had a fully reclining bed and food on demand. This is me catching up on the jet lag.



They say travel changes a person and I would have to agree. I must admit I’ve put on a bit of weight (too much good living). I have two teeth and some hair – at last! I finally got my arms under control. I’ve expanded my culinary range to include more than just milkshakes. Most excitingly I am mobile! I no longer rely on my keepers to bring the world to me. I can move in search of toys, although why I would be interested in toys when there are so many more exciting things around me I don’t know. Electronic goods are a particular favourite. I am quite territorial. I mark my territory by slobbering on everything within reach.

With mum and dad buckling under the strain of having a child it’s up to me to bring them together. I try to ensure the three of us spend as much time together as possible. This weekend I took them to ‘Opera in the Park’ down the road from our house. Here's me and my Dad enjoying the interval.



At night I often like to check everybody’s okay. Strange but they never seem as pleased to see me at night. Sometimes I do ask myself ‘hmm, I wonder what goes on in their heads?’.

It was great to meet so many friends and family. Thank you to anyone who gave me a present :) In case you are missing me Mum made a short video. Here it is:

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=561729912&ref=ts#/video/video.php?v=129061725421

And posted some more photos from my trip: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=218693&id=855875421&l=50325

Jack is almost 4 months old....

Keelie says: I haven’t written in ages I know. Every time I think about something I might like to write I’m miles away from a computer or Jack intervenes. Besides which not much spectacularly noteworthy stuff is happening on a day-to-day basis. I take care of Jack, I shop, I cook, I change nappies, I clean, I drink coffee in cafes big enough to accommodate prams, I change nappies, I hang out with other new mums, I seek out baby changing rooms, I learn how to wrap, I sing songs, I pull faces, I change nappies...

On the other hand in Jack’s world things are changing in leaps and bounds. In four months he’s gone from a floppy, no-neck, snugly newborn to a rotund baby who can hold his head up, roll, chat, smile, even laugh (a surprisingly adult sounding laugh) and who can assert his own likes and dislikes. At last he can direct his arms and hands instead of just ineffectually waving them. It might not seem like much but when you watch your baby do something today that he couldn’t do yesterday it’s really impressive. Well it seems that way to me.

Things are much easier these days – for him and for us. He doesn’t freak out at every new thing and neither do we.

So how is motherhood? I remember my friend Ruth (Hi Ruth!) saying ‘it will change your life…but it changes for the better’. Which pretty much sums it up. She then added ‘of course you’re not going to go clubbing as much’. Also true.

Jack is a pleasure to hang out with. Of course he gets on my nerves now and then. Generally when he wants to do something that doesn’t fit in with what I want to do. But we spend 24 hours a day together – of course we’re going to have the odd spat.

Having a baby can make you question what kind of person you are. If babies learn by watching the big people around them does this mean I must strive to be a better version of myself so he doesn’t pick up all my crap habits?

And what about nature versus nurture? Is Jack a blank slate on whom we are imposing a personality or will his own nature emerge with or without help from us? When he wants something not immediately forthcoming and has a meltdown it’s very easy for me to say something like ‘ooh moody Jack – just like your father!’. But it’s quite normal for a baby with no concept of time and space to cry when his needs are not being met. If I keep on assuming he is moody (like his dad :) ) will I end up with a child that is moody only by my own creation? Or would he take after his dad in that regard anyway? It really doesn’t help that his dad watches with some degree of pride saying ‘that’s it son, welcome to the dark side’.

In a nutshell, it is completely absorbing to watch this little person developing from scratch. I get a kick out of watching him. I like the way he nuzzles his face into his toys when he sleeps. I like the way he smiles when we play with him. I love the little contented noises he makes when he feeds. I like the way he attacks the toys on his playmat. I like that he wakes up smiling with sweet milky breath, completely unphased by my non-milky, non-sweet breath!

He is adorably cute and he melts my heart. Which is just as well really because it balances out the times when he is ‘just like his dad’…

Here are some photos on facebook, one new album and two you may have already seen:

Jack in October II: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=172135&l=1cbff&id=855875421

Jack in October: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=168155&l=bb93f&id=855875421

If Jack were a sheep (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED VIEWING): http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=161225&l=d0765&id=855875421