Cot Training

Sleep in the cot. Please baby, please. Please. That is all.

Going well

My girl is two months old, and I have had only two panic-attacks.

Entirely better than expected.

Days are spent roaming the streets wearing a babybjorn - and of course - a baby. Baby does not like to sleep in the cot. Or the bed. Or the pram. Only the bjorn. Only. The. Bjorn. 

Winter in Byron

Fish Drama

I mentioned previously on this blog that we had found ourselves living in a house with its very own fishpond. Suddenly pet-count was up from 1 to 32. Like, approximately.

Ponds are a genuinely bad idea. To top it off previous owners had drawn electricity to pond using totally insane and utterly illegal methods. Our electrician could not believe his eyes. Bill to fix; hefty. We death-defyingly left electrical mess as was.

Then suddenly had light bulb moment. Placed ad on gumtree re free fish, available for pick up. For some inexplicable reason we had loads of interest.

Fish are gone.

Woop.

But.

Two remain.

In the "hospital pond". This is a second, much smaller, pond built by previous owners. No electricity.

Anyway. Two sick fish. Asked hubby to kill them. Asked many times. Nagged,  you could say. Until this morning. Argued. Shouted. Kill the damn fish. Dammit.

Hubby decided to call me on it. Why him? Why can't I kill them? He's a fricking vegan. Couldn't think of anything to say so before I knew what was happening, had said fine. Fine. I will kill them. But never ask me how I did it.

How the freaking hell am I going to kill two fish???

Baby Sleep

Walked along Main Beach with stroller yesterday. That is, walked on grass next to path, to encourage baby to sleep. She eventually did. Bless the mountain buggy.

Observed other mothers pushing strollers or otherwise entertaining babies. Apparently all babies need to be encouraged to sleep from time to time.

Strategies used included: reasoning (you ARE tired now), threatening (go to sleep or mommy will take you home), begging (pleeeeease sleep), and of course praying (for the love of god).

Since this is now a mommy-blogg, am going to go ahead and make a recommendation. I recommend prayer. That is your best option. Good luck!

Tea

There is a lovely little tea-house just outside Byron, Starseed Gardens. Run by hippies, catering to hippies. You know.

Went there today in celebration of hubby's birthday. Long gong are boozy all-nighters that end up in 6am taxi rides and hangovers from hell. Instead we have discussions about which tea is milder, so we do not get too wired. White tea, as it turns out. And was the cake vegan? No. Thus birthday boy ended up with dahl, not cake.

Baby quite enjoyed outing. Had two hour sleep upon returning home. Longest ever. Baby not a sleeper.

Trying for first time to settle baby in cot. Have always held her, but at 6 kilos it is getting more and more unfeasible. Baby not having a bar of it. Looking at me with large accusing eyes. Pick.Me.Up...

I'm wondering if the white tea has made baby feel wired?

Stuff That Happens To Me

This really happened. Swear it.

Went to Yamba and stayed at Angourie Rainforest Resort. Decided to have 30 minute hand massage. Sounded interesting whilst not being painful and / or intrusive like other types of massage. Anyway.

Walk in.
Spa Lady: "oh, you're pregnant.
Me (dying a little): "er no. But I just had a baby! "
SL: "not just fat then?"
Me (whimpy) "no."
SL: "how old is bub?"
Me: "6 weeks old."

She's not. She's older than that. But like I'm going to tell SL that! In fact was going to lie even more and say she was 2 weeks old, but might not have been believable.

This could only happen to me.

If I knew what the hell a "#" does I might have created a "#" entitled precisely "shit that could only happen to me."

Here's the thing. You NEVER say to a woman "are you pregnant?" EVEN IF she is in labour. You don't.