Jen's rantings

It's not you, it's me.

2009-10-15T22:12:00.002+01:00

I apologise for not visiting your blog or keeping up to date on your news or even acknowledging your comments.

I’ve slightly overextended myself. Two babies, one husband, lots of family and friends, two cats, 2 websites, a business start up, 3 blogs, 3 Facebook pages, 2 Twitter accounts and a daughter who feeds every forty minutes from 7 til 10 in the evening. Something had to give.

Bear with me you wonderful bloggers. I will find the time to open my reader soon and catch up with you all. I may even pour myself a wee glass of vino as I peek into your lives.

In the meantime, I’m twittering here and blogging a bit here and maybe even right here.

The Big Wuss in the Face of Adversity Award Goes to Me

2009-09-29T14:38:00.001+01:00

Saturday morning 9:00.

The kitchen.

Tinyelf is screaming to get out of stupid jumping contraption and to go for a nap.

Crazypixie is roaring with pain, blood is pouring from her mouth, her pyjamas are soaked in blood too and there is a puddle of it staining the tile grout.

Himself is hugging crazypixie and examining the wound while trying to talk calmly to tinyelf.

I'm lying on the floor, in just a towel, overcome by the sight of so much blood.

I was going to elaborate but let’s just leave it at that.

Suffice to say it all turned out ok in the end.

Thanks to Daddy.

Not so much fun

2009-09-23T21:07:00.000+01:00

I’m covered in hickeys!!

The purple blotches are on my arms, neck and chest.

It’s not from a passionate night with himself (sigh).

Nor is it from an illicit tryst with a stranger (eew).

Tinyelf is the culprit.

My little leech baby likes to suck. When she’s finished feeding it’s bye bye boobie and hello nearest piece of exposed mummy.

When she’s happy she sucks, when she’s tired she sucks, when she’s bored she sucks.

Maybe it’s about marking her property.

Asgard 2

2009-09-11T13:17:00.004+01:00

I wrote this piece a year ago today. It was an attempt to type away my tears. A year on and Asgard has been left on the sea bed and we have no news of a replacement. Coiste an Asgard is still carrying out sail training but we are without a tall ship to carry our flag.

On September 11th 2008, Asgard II sank, and with her something of my youth. I’ve cried the great big heaving sobs of grief. And yet it seems ridiculous, yeah illogical to be grieving for a boat. But as the old hands would say, ‘she wasn’t just a ship, she was a lady….’

I was sixteen when I boarded the Asgard for the first of many voyages. For the next two weeks I became part of a crew, had experiences that changed me forever and fell in love with a gaff rigged brigantine…

Sailing a tall ship was magical; it was the stuff of adventure novels. We did things that pushed our boundaries just enough so that we were stronger more confident young people at the end of the voyage. We climbed up the rigging in heavy seas to reduce sail; we did it because it had to be done, and we did it under the watchful eye of the crew. Sure we were a little scared but when we had that job done and conquered that fear….well we just got on with next job…

Asgard was a relatively new vessel, but she was steeped in the tradition of the sea. The poetry of her rigging echoed the rich lives of ancient seafarers: buntlines and clew lines, braces and sheets, topsail and t’gallant. The centuries old calls of ‘all hands on deck’, ‘bracing stations’ and ‘2, 6, heave…’ became a language we understood. We thought nothing of spending time tying frayed rope to make baggy wrinkles or avoiding the widow-maker during manoeuvres before returning to the dog house for watch duties. We revelled in this new world, learning together.

It was on this vessel that many young people gained a love and respect for the sea and an appreciation of working life. Like many young people I went on board Asgard during that rough rollercoaster of my teens. Onboard everyone was part of the crew, we all worked together and we all worked hard and that was the joy of it. As well as the sailing, there was brass to be polished, toilets to be cleaned, and dinner to be cooked. Every one mucked in, and became firm friends in the process.

Ashore there was the craic, and with a boat full of teenagers, many romances. But this was no summer camp, this was real.

I always felt safe on Asgard. Even in really heavy weather she was solid; a great sea boat. The permanent crew: Captain, Mate, Bosun, Cook and Engineer, took incredibly good care of their young charges and treated us with a mixture of respect, good humour and firm boundaries that ensured life at sea was challenging, enjoyable and safe for us all.

I can’t believe she’s gone. I only hope that this isn’t the end of the wonderful tall ship training tradition in Ireland, and that one day my daughter will have a chance to experience living and working on an Irish Tall Ship.

Life's not fair.

2009-09-10T20:51:00.000+01:00

My sis and I were having a cuppa in my sitting room, our tiny ones on our knees and crazypixie busy trying on shoes and hats.

Tinyelf began the theatrics that signal a poo.

My sister asked ‘Does she poo everyday?’

I was confused.

‘She poos about three times a day.’

‘Oh, lilman only poos every three days.’

Every three days!

I was incredulous.

I was stunned.

I was envious.

The day before I had changed seven pooey nappies by teatime. 7, in a day.

She does that a month.

NOT FAIR

Dress code

2009-09-05T19:52:00.006+01:00

I usually dress the girls in the morning but sometimes himself, my mother or my mother-in-law does it.
When this happens I try to leave complete outfits ready but there are rare times when himself or the grannies have to pick the clothes themselves.

So until my girls are choosing their own clothes the following tips will be duck-taped to the wardrobe door.

Tips for dressing my girls

Choosing an outfit

Dress for the occasion:
Jeans/trousers and top are appropriate when going to the pool, the woods, the playground and generally mucking around.
For visits to friends and grandparents or restaurants a pinafore (like dungarees with a skirt bottom), skirt or nice trousers and top will do.
For special occasions like birthday parties a dress is appropriate (not pyjama top and jeans, mum).

Colours:
Pink, red, orange, purple; pick one and don’t mix it with the others.
White, green, blue, denim can be matched with any of the above.

Pyjamas:
Are for bedtime only.

Tights and socks:
Should match outfit. See colours.

Shoes:
No matter what your daughter/granddaughter tells you, shoes should be worn in matching pairs.

Accessories:
This is crazypixie’s area of expertise. Let her chose hats, bags and bracelets for everyone.

When you’ve chosen an outfit using the above guidelines, lay it out to make sure it all works together (i.e. she won’t look like a little hooker/homeless child/teletubbie).

Before putting it on the child ask yourself, ‘Is this what my wife/daughter/daughter-in-law would dress her in?’

Always check that the clothes fit and are on properly.

The clothes are inside out if:
The tags are on the outside (take note, husband dear)
The stitching is on the outside.

Clothes are too small if:
Pulling it over her head involves you breaking a sweat and her in tears.
The top finishes above her bellybutton.
The trousers reveal a builders bum when she bends over.
The crotch of the tights is at her knees
Only one of four buttons will close.

If in doubt take a photo of proposed outfit and media message it to Jen for approval.

Life before little ones.

2009-09-01T22:24:00.003+01:00

Feeling a little nostalgic while figuring out how to embed video in blogger.

Here's what myself and himself used to get up to at weekends (we're not in this but used to race against the guys that are).

Mad hatters.

2009-08-31T13:49:00.008+01:00

This week we’ll be mostly drinking tea.

My littlesis presented crazypixie with a beautiful wooden tea set at the weekend. I love it, it’s carved from sustainable wood, there are little cups and saucers, a teapot, sugar bowl and jug. There are also wooden sugar cubes, tea bags and spoons, all of which I’ve put away for now as I have had enough of medical emergencies for a while.

So we spent the morning tea partying. Well mummy got all nostalgic and enthusiastic (a scary combination)and starting pouring imaginary cups of tea for lambkin and bear, while crazypixie tried to figure out how the pieces of this new puzzle fit together. Eventually the pixie gave in and quickly got the hang of imaginary tea.

We soon discovered that the tea party game is even more fun when wearing silly hats. Yes, the beloved bag of hats was called into service and we all looked fabulously ridiculous (no photo, too busy playing). Oh I so need to get out more!

Then the postman arrived…..

…….with a huge box of tea!

What excellent timing.

A few weeks ago my favouritest tea company in the world (too much Pooh, I know) was offering free tea on Facebook. So, of course ,I signed up!!

And today the box arrived. In it were 9 types of teas and infusions.

I think I’ll have my big girl friends around for a tea party all of our own.

And maybe I’ll make them wear hats.

Owee!

2009-08-28T14:23:00.001+01:00

This week my running, dancing, climbing crazypixie was stopped in her tracks. Three days ago she tripped, an occupational hazard for a wired 17 month old, and she must have landed awkwardly because there was much hysterics.

After the initial cuddle I thought she was just being a little melodramatic with her ‘owees.’ Closer inspection showed that her foot had swelled a lot and she couldn’t bear for me to touch it nor could she put any weight on it.

Feck!

The thought of tending to my wounded pixie and my elfin boobie monster in an over packed waiting room (presumably rife with swine flu) as each of my smallies in turn became hungry and overtired during a 5 hour wait was more than I could bear. So I threw some nappies, emergency snacks, toys and drinks in a bag, phoned himself to let him know what was going on, lifted the two into their car seats and headed for the nearest take-out-a-mortgage-to-pay-for-this Swift Clinic. At the car park I bunged (that should read ‘lovingly placed’) crazypixie into her buggy and threw (ditto) the tiny one into a sling.
Up in the lift and to reception. Wow! No queue – no one else in front of us at all, comfy chairs and loads of toys. We were called in a few minutes. Crazypixie attached herself firmly to me as the nurse and doctor came to check her out. She was such a brave girl and when each professional was finished and leaving, through her tears crazypixie would smile, say ‘Bye’ and blow them a kiss. They were charmed and weren’t to know that ‘Bye’ is pixie speak for ‘go away’.
Going for an x-ray proved complicated, as tinyelf was strapped to me getting fretty and crazypixie was snuggled up to me. We couldn’t bring tinyelf into the x ray room and I wasn’t keen on extricating myself from either of them. Enter himself on his white steed (well, shanks mare anyway).

An hour and a small fortune later we were home. Nothing broken, thankfully.

So she’s been on painkillers and confined to the couch. We’ve been colouring, reading, playing with her animals, picnicking, dressing and undressing her sister and doing anything to keep her amused while keeping her owee elevated.

Cue DVD’s.

We looked at a few David Attenborough’s first (nerdy parents, the poor child) until I discovered a Pooh DVD I had bought to amuse mrman when he was younger.

She loves it.

I love it.

My mum and I cried at it!

We’ve watched it 5 times in 2 days.

Anyhoo, she seems to be on the mend. She can hobble about a little and has rediscovered crawling. Soon she’ll be back having her own adventures and we can mothball Pooh, Tigger and the rest of the Hundred Acre Wood until the next period of confinement.

Under House Arrest

2009-08-21T12:56:00.001+01:00

It should come as no surprise to us really that our girls are strong willed. With parents like us what did we expect?

This week tinyelf has decided that she would rather not travel by car. She voices her opinion by turning red and screaming at the top of her lungs to such an extent that mummy has to throw on the hazards lights, stop in traffic and haul her out before she makes herself sick or has a seizure. This has happened 9 times (and on three separate trips) in the last two days and no amount of soothing, feeding, winding, changing or dangling of toys seems to make a blind bit of difference. She starts the journey quite happily but obviously runs out of patience about 5 minutes in. When she’s taken out of her seat she’s all smiles and cooing, as if to say, ‘that’s better……now don’t put me back in there.’
So our nine week old has us under house arrest!

And house arrest wouldn’t be all that bad if we were allowed to go around fully dressed, but no. Crazypixie has decided that ‘nuwees’ (nude in pixie speak) is the way to go. Any clothing with poppers is useless as she can get it off, ditto her grobag and pyjamas. And she can also remove her own nappy! Short of stitching the clothes onto her I’m not sure what I’ll do.
And she isn’t satisfied with being ‘nuwees’ alone. Oh no. This morning tinyelf was undressed as she fed and crazypixie insists on viewing mummy’s tummy and boobies at regular intervals.
The only clothes she seems to be happy wearing are scarves or bits of fabric that she drapes around herself and calls her ‘bwas’ (yes, you’ll remember, pixie speak for bra).

If my girls had their way we’d spend all day at home, nude. Ah well, maybe it’s not that bad………

Attention Freelance Mam

2009-08-20T13:17:00.003+01:00

I like your blog...but i can't post a comment...there seems to be a problem with comments on your site...I've tried to commment on your last 3 posts...i know you follow this blog so it's the only way I could let you know!!

I wanted to tell you that your story is beautiful, happy, sad and made me cry.......

Everyone else, check her out!!!

Rescue me

2009-08-16T10:00:00.000+01:00

There have been times, mostly when crazypixie was just born, that himself has dropped everything to come home and help me cope with our crying baby.
There have been days when I’ve rung him at 9 in the morning sobbing down the phone, ‘When are you coming home?’ Then we’ve chatted and all was well in the world again
There have been mornings, following rough nights, when he’s quietly taken crazypixie downstairs, fed her and amused her while I’ve snored away upstairs with tinyelf.
Today it was my turn to rescue him.

Tinyelf and I were in bed as she was having her morning feed. My phone rang. Bizarrely it was himself, who was presumably just downstairs. I answered, hopeful that it was an offer of a cup of tea. But no.
A sheepish voice asked me to come down stairs and let him in.
Confused, I threw on a big t-shirt, and bounded down the stairs only to be greeted by crazypixie.
‘Where’s dada?’ I asked.
‘Outside,’ she grinned and pointed. There he was peering in the glass looking all lost puppyish.
I opened the door and we both just collapsed laughing. Apparently he had just popped out to get something from the car, he’d put the top lock on the latch and pulled the door after him. Then when he tried to get back in all he could hear was the key turning in the lock.
Clever crazypixie!

Double the love.

2009-08-11T14:07:00.003+01:00

Friends, who are parents of one and either contemplating or incubating a second, keep asking me, ‘Is it hard, having two?’
The short answer is ‘YES.’
But it is also wonderful, rewarding and fun.

Double the love, double the smiles, double the cuddling.
Double the nappies, double the mess and half the sleep.

So here are my tips for those of you contemplating or expecting your second (says she with a whole eight weeks experience):

Routine. Let me just say that again. ROUTINE. Help the older sibling to get into a regular nap and bedtime schedule before the new baby arrives. This makes things so much more manageable.
Go easy on yourself. You can’t be and do all (I know, I’ve tried). If you have to leave one cry for a minute or two while the other needs immediate attention, it’s ok. They’ll get over it, you’ll get over it. Do your best.
Train a helper. Crazypixie loves to get me things while I’m feeding or changing tinyelf. They may not be exactly (or even remotely) what I was looking for but it does keep her amused and interested in her sister.
Let your toddler play mummy. Baba, crazypixie’s dolly, is changed, rocked to sleep, burped and breastfed. Hours of fun!
Stagger getting up times, naptimes and bedtimes. In the morning I give crazypixie her cuddles, get her changed, dressed and have the porridge on before bringing the sleeping tinyelf downstairs. I always ensure tinyelf is napping or happily playing before bringing crazypixie up for her nap.
Be a grownup. Have a least one adult conversation a day. Give yourself little snatches of grown up time, be it phone conversations, blogging, online shopping or snuggling with himself – whatever cranks your tractor.
Get out. After the first few times it’s not that difficult to get out and about. Go visit friends and family; give everyone a change of scene from your own four walls.
Remember the priorities. Leave the mess sometimes and just hang out with your kids and your partner.
Enjoy. Do what you can to make sure you all enjoy some of this special time and not just survive it.

Did I mention routine?

Boobs, boobs,,,,

2009-08-09T16:19:00.000+01:00

It’s been mostly about boobs this week.

Tinyelf has her first cold and so is a total boobie monster. The trick to sleeping which we discovered when crazypixie got her first cold is working a treat again. She lies on her side snuggled into me with her head on my arm to elevate it. When she gets congested I offer her the boob and this helps her to swallow the snot (gross, but effective). She gets sleep and isn’t distressed and I get a little bit of sleep too!!

Crazypixie has moved from saying ‘beeboo’ to ‘boobie’ and now directs me whenever tinyelf cries, ‘Baba boobie.’ Bizarrely she is better at telling when tinyelf is hungry than I am.

Later in the week I had the following conversation with my 6 ¾ year old neighbour who was ‘helping’ me by ‘babysitting’ crazypixie.

Me: I’m just going to feed tinyelf
Mr man: Again! She sure feeds a lot.
Me: Well, I just feed her when she’s hungry.
Mr man: Bottles are very handy.
Me: But I don’t have to worry about measuring, sterilising or anything.
Mr man: The thing about bottles is, if she doesn’t finish a bottle you can keep it til later.
Me: Well, I can even feed tinyelf when I’m asleep.
Mr man: That is handy. So she could start feeding and then you could fall asleep.
Me: Exactly.
Mr man: Wow, that’s very handy!!!

How sad am I?

No More Stuff!

2009-08-05T20:33:00.002+01:00

In ~~an inspired~~ moment of madness I've set myself a 'No more Stuff' challenge. Details on my other blog.

Tandem Feeding

2009-08-05T13:14:00.000+01:00

Yesterday I tandem breastfed for the first time. It wasn’t planned and was quite a surprising development.

Crazypixie had weaned three months ago and had shown no interest in what lay beneath mummies bra (‘bwa’ in pixie speak) until tinyelf began spending her days attached to the ‘beeboos’.
When tinyelf feeds, crazypixie wants to be involved to, ‘beeboo’ she points excitedly and I nod, yes, ‘boobie.’ ‘Bwa’ she exclaims as she pulls down the cup on my elf free boob. Then begins a weird kind of peekaboo game with beeboo and bwa. Thankfully this game has been confined to our own home and hasn’t happened in front of visitors yet!
Peekaboo is usually followed by the pretending to breastfeed game. Much like sipping a cup of pretend tea at a kids tea party crazypixie ‘feeds’ without ever actually making contact. I humour her as it means tinyelf can guzzle away in peace without having her ears pulled/fingers inserted up her nose/her hair ’brushed’ with a plastic pig.

Two weeks ago when dealing with the joys of blocked ducts, I had to express quite a bit into bottles I hadn’t had time to sterilise. Instead of wasting my milk I chucked it into crazypixies sippycup and she was delighted. My friends warned me I was living dangerously, but I didn’t see the harm.

Then yesterday…….

I was feeding the elvin boobie monster when little pixie hands pulled down my bwa, pointed to beeboo and handed me her dolly.

Well, what could I do only humour her?

So I now tandem feed one baby and one doll.

Rainy day

2009-07-31T18:12:00.006+01:00

Three girls, a day to ourselves, and pouring rain outside. Oh, what to do.
Let’s have a……

Spa Day!

Now bear in mind that two of the aforementioned girls have a combined age of 1 ½ so we had to be creative.

Firstly, to get in the mood, pink nappies all round (with the obvious exception of mummy's ample bum).

Then...

Crazypixie had:
Pedicure and manicure, although she insisted on having the moisturiser applied to her elbows and knees.
Warm oil head massage. No more embarrassing cradle cap!
Yoghurt facial. Granted, this was supposed to be lunch.

Tinyelf had:
Pedicure and manicure. She obviously found it relaxing as she slept through it.
Then she chilled in the massage chair for the rest of the afternoon.

Mummy had:
A pixie massage. Unfortunately it preceded Crazypixie’s manicure and the jury is still out on the benefits of pinch therapy.

More rain tomorrow. I wonder are they too young for Bridget Jones Diary and maltesers.

Snapshot

2009-07-29T20:17:00.000+01:00

Here’s a snapshot for my girls to look back on:

Tinyelf, at 6 weeks old;
You are growing and developing by the day and we are constantly amazed by your new feats.
You can now smile and you chat to us in your cooing language.
You are very alert and like looking at peoples faces,.
You love your sleep, like your dada, and love to snuggle up next to your mama and hold on while nodding off.
You are very patient with the enthusiastic attentions of your big sister. But when you’re tired, hungry or bored, boy can you scream!!!

We love you, you tiny little snugly elf………

Crazypixie, at 16 ½ months old:
Your new thing is spinning around in circles until you’re dizzy and then falling on your bum. This is your dancing!!
Your favourite book is your birdie book, A Bird Identification Guide, which we frequently have to sellotape back together.
You like to figure things out. You can now almost get your shoes on yourself. Well, you can get the right one on and closed but you haven’t quite got the left one yet.
You climb on all the furniture and instead of sitting in the bath you run back and forth.
You love playing outside and being nude. You would probably explode with excitement if we left you run around nude outside!
Every evening when Daddy comes home from work you squeal ‘Daddy’ and run to the door.
You have new words every day, and are starting to say little sentences, ‘bye, bye baba’ and ‘in bin’.
Your favourite toys are your Bear (‘B’), dolly (‘Baba’) and plastic cow (‘Moo’).
You are a great big sister, you insist on trying to hold tinyelf on your lap and read books to her. Sometimes mummy has to curb your enthusiasm as you try to drag her around by the arm.

We love you, you determined little pixie…..

From me to you

2009-07-25T18:41:00.006+01:00

So, I got this Meme award from Sandy and, the rules are as follows:

Acknowledge the person who gave you the award
List seven personality traits about yourself
Pass the award on to seven other blogs that deserve recognition for the personalities that they share with the blogging world.

Between compiling lists of seasonal vegetables for tinygreenpeople and feeding tinyelf who was a total boobie monster today (crazypixie was off adventuring with my parents) I did a wee bit of introspection and came up with the seven personality traits required (btw himself thought I should add Brilliant to the list – he’s saying all the right things at the moment).

Seven Personality traits of Jen:

Caring. I might not be great at expressing it always but I care deeply about my family and friends. I care about the welfare of strangers and animals and nature, and the wellbeing of the world in general.

Fair. I try to be fair and treat everyone with respect, especially my own children. I hate to see people being treated unfairly, and I particularly dislike people abusing power over others.

Determined. Try coming between me and something I feel strongly about and you’ll see how determined I am.

Bookish. I’ve always been a total bookworm and since I’ve become computer literate I am proudly both a nerd and a geek! A gnerd, maybe?

Mischievous. Or evil as some of my so called friends would say!! I like a bit of fun if it doesn’t harm someone else. On holidays with my brother we bought a load of garden gnomes and at night placed them in strangers gardens; there must have been some pretty confused people the following day.

Self critical/analytical. I am guilty of over analysis. I’ll remember something stupid I said 10 years ago and still cringe. I can’t watch the video of our wedding as I have such good memories of the day and know I would spoil them by nit picking.

Sensitive. I take things personally. I can’t help it! I may come across as a confident woman but there is sensitive little girl in here too.

So I’ll pass this award on to some bloggers I’d like to know more about. Some of the blogs I’ve only just discovered, others I’ve been following for a while. Some are due babies imminently so blogging awards may be the last thing on their mind but hey, when you’ve got the time guys.

JennyMac at Lets have a Cocktail
Mick at WannabeDad
Whoopsie Daisy at Living in a Toy Box
Danka at Dublin Mama
Miss Leslieanne at Life with a Little Dude
Hot Cross Mum
Potty Mummy at Potty Diaries

Thank you and Helloooo

2009-07-24T12:00:00.007+01:00

Firstly thank you Sandy at Baby baby for the Meme award, I’ll compile my list and pass it on soon….

In the meantime, for your entertainment and to give my grown up girls an insight into their parents juvenile humour………an extract from a Skype chat between myself and himself while the girls were napping.

It’s just cut and pasted, I couldn’t be arsed adding punctuation.

Me:hellooooo
Himself: hi
Me: poor crazypixie is napping but very restless that bottom molar about to appear
Himself: molar: her 2nd molars
Me: canine...i need sleep
Himself: fffwww
Himself: feeww
Himself: or something like that
Me: phew? or not enough?
Himself: that'll do to
Me: poo maybe?
Himself: no: I'm fine thanks
Me: (smiley face)
Himself: to think, in 5 years they'll all fall out: teeth not poo
Himself: maybe I do need to go
Me: another quiet day at the office?
Himself: no, up the walls, just taking a minute out to chat to you!
Me: ah, nothing like five minutes to chat about teeth and poo
Himself: reminds me of a south park episode (smiley face vomiting)
Me: not the one where where they eat..........
Himself: ....through their....and.....through their
Me: eeewwwww
Himself: right, on that note best do some work
Me: (smiley face blowing a kiss)
Himself: (smiley face blushing)

The Solution.

2009-07-22T13:06:00.001+01:00

I figured out what I need to make daily life a little easier. The one little thing that would allow me to be all and do all……………

An extra arm.

Surely this is possible. They grow human ears on pigs for goodness sake.

If that plan doesn’t work…….maybe a change of perspective is called for.

Me time.

2009-07-17T20:06:00.004+01:00

Things I could (all the self help books say not to use ‘should’) do while the girls nap:

Wash nappies and clothes: it would only take a fraction of the usual time without my helper.
Prepare lunch and dinner: with nobody simultaneously emptying the cupboards and insisting on sampling everything.
Tidy up: without pausing for feeds or nappy changes.
Wash the dishes: while the contents of the bin remain safe from eager little hands.
Nap: in uninterrupted bliss.

Things I actually do while the girls nap:

Banter with himself on Skype chat
Check my email. It’s the only time in the day where I don’t have to battle crazypixie for control of the mouse.
Update my websites. It’s so much quicker typing with both hands and without a baby on my other shoulder.
Blog. By 10:30 there have usually been 1 or 2 blogworthy events.
Drink tea: slowly and without worrying about where to put it down.
Eat chocolate biccies: without having to share them.
Catch up on my favourite blogs. It’s almost like having an adult conversation.
See who’s up to what on Facebook. Hello outside world.

So…….we continue to live in chaos but I remain both sane and happy, and I retain the capacity to get enthusiastic about an afternoon of blowing bubbles, colouring, chasing cats, reading stories and doing housework ‘together’.

Now, if only they could co-ordinate their napping every day…..

another day at the office...

2009-07-13T21:25:00.001+01:00

By 5 o’clock today this is the situation:

The sitting room is a sea of primary colours: blocks, bikes and books, dollys and drums, playmats and prams. I’m afraid to put tinyelf down on her mat in case I can’t find her again.
The back garden is strewn with discarded shoes, balls, sippy cups and buckets. All are the result of crazypixie, a two year old and a six year old having great fun.
Cat food scattered over the kitchen floor (this find provided crazypixie with a little pre-breakfast snack). The kitchen counter top ares piled high with vegetable peelings and dishes that, surprisingly, don’t wash themselves.
Tinyelf is actually sitting happy in her bouncer chair, but is wearing a suspiciously fresh set of clothing and smelling faintly of baby vomit.
Crazypixie is overtired, sore from teething and not impressed that dinner isn’t ready yet.
Like tinyelf, I also smell of baby vomit (slightly less faintly unfortunately) and after undressing in the kitchen I’m now wearing a tracksuit pants that is so unflattering that it must go in the next charity bag and a t-shirt that used to fit perfectly before breastfeeding boobs took over my chest but now is struggling to cover my midriff (classy bird, me).
I’m trying to put on rice for the dinner, while diverting crazypixies attention from her little sister, who she is patting a little too enthusiastically. This involves letting her rifle through the cupboards while I sing Old McDonald with thoroughly faked enthusiasm.

In walks himself, after a long day at the office.

He takes one look at me and what does he say?

‘You look lovely.’

And he meant it!

I think I’ll keep him.

Dressed to Impress.

2009-07-12T16:30:00.001+01:00

Heading out to play football with mummy........in the rain....Irish summers are all about being dressed for the conditions!

Well, duh...

2009-07-11T12:06:00.002+01:00

My local public health nurse said something very wise to me on her last visit:
‘We are all idiots with our first baby.’
How true……

I mentioned that tinyelf was having digestion problems and had a witching hour (or three) in the evening, well Infant Gaviscon has returned her to a cooing, snuggly bundle of joy (thank you Sandy for the tip). She still frets a little bit but is much easier to soothe………..
When crazypixie screamed each evening, we thought it was normal. My mother in law said that himself and his brother used to be the same as babies.
It took 16 months and the discomfort of tinyelf for me to twig that maybe, just maybe, reflux runs in the family…..

(for when you read this in later life, crazypixie, mummy is sorry for being an idiot)