Tonsillitis

Bub is experiencing her very first case of tonsillitis. 

Am fearing the worst, naturally, thinking she'll be a real tonsill-bub like I was.Tonsillitis every few weeks between the ages of as-far-back-as-I-can-remember and bastards-got-removed-via-scalpel in 2000. 

I missed so much school I actually became convinced of the uselessness of main stream education. You do not need 12 years to learn how to read, write, do basic maths and talk your way out of gym-class. 

Different post. 

Unfortunately we'd just had bub vaccinated in the previous week. Jabs are due at 12 months here in Australia, but in Sweden the same ones are due at 18 months. In so far as I place any trust in authority at all, I'd take Sweden's advice over Australia's. Glass of fluoride, anyone? 

In the end we'd given in and booked the appointment even though our precious bundle is a mere 16 months. A week later 40 plus degree fever strikes with a vengeance, bub shaking and refusing to make eye contact with me. 

Was overcome with horror, convinced she may never bounce back (forgetting fact of it being middle of night, and bub probably wanted to get back to sleep - wondering why has mom suddenly gone mad insisting on cold shower, change of clothes and yucky tasting medicine when all I want to do is sleep..? 

One sleepless night later I drag bub to the medical centre, mad hair and stressed look - shouting about reactions to vaccines and not having an appointment and I need a doctor now -  when the most amazing thing happens. 

My doctor is standing right there in the reception area. She has her jacket and a coffee - on her break perhaps - but she ignores the reception lady who says I can wait an hour, says "No - I will see her now!" 

Five minutes later I am once again convinced of the relative safety and scientific benefits of vaccines; bub is not suffering a reaction to them - she has tonsillitis. I'm like... Ahaaaaaa... well, that explains it. 

How to give a 16 month old her medicine:

1. Figure out how to open the damn bottle

2. Figure out how to use the useless bloody measuring device

3. Get husband to hold down baby's extremities

4. Try to pry open baby's mouth whilst at the same time not spilling medicine

5. Hold baby's nose (whilst feeling like worst parent ever. EVER.)

6. Scrape as much of the medicine as possible from baby's neck, cheeks, arms - try to shove it back down her throat again 

7. Optimistically assume atleast some of the medicine has been swallowed

8. Comfort baby

9. Clean yourself, furniture and floor which are covered in sticky medicine

10. Just go to bed

Socially acceptable?

At playgroup the other day. Lots of mothers (a lot) younger than me sporting two, even three, kids. Someone throws in a "gee I love babies, wish I'd had like five!" I say, unable to slow down and reconsider - "You do?!?"

Had to run off at this exact moment to stop bub from getting kicked in the face for the second time in an hour.

I sense them looking at me. I get the feeling that whilst a child is your ticket into the club, your ticket into social acceptability - I still don't quite fool them.

They know.

Quitting an Addiction

I'm considering quitting books.

I think I am addicted to reading. Probably have been for years. Only it hasn't really presented a problem before. Reading or watching telly? Reading or going out? Reading or sleeping? Reading or... you get the idea. But now I am finding that I simply don't have the time to read. I mean I DO... when bub is asleep.

Here is a list of a few of the things that should happen whilst bub is asleep;

• shopping
• cooking
• eating 
• washing bottles
• tidying
• laundry
• general cleaning
• grooming such as nail-clipping, hair-combing etcetera

And eventually when we get home;

• house renovating
• gardening (oh dear Lord)
• yoga 

(and yes I know some of these things can be done with bub, but that is another post)

Thus leaving just enough time to get into a book. And then thinking about it for the entire time I am doing the above. Sometimes, even - sadly (please don't judge me) whilst playing with and caring for bub. The thought will arrive - "Gee that book is great, I wonder when I'll have a moment to read it?!"
Occasionally with more urgency than is comfortable.

Some people possibly feel this way about their smartphones... based on their interactions with phones in public, including when caring for children. I don't want to be a mother like that - only with a book instead of a phone.

So what to do?

I can see only one way out of this.

Quitting...

Routine

As surprising as it may be, I'm not really the mothering type. Not the natural born earth-mother with one kid on each arm, making muffins with one foot and making a bed with the other. Or whatever it is these people do. 

It has been much more trial and error for me. Mostly error. 

I struggled with sleep deprivation, I struggled with chores, and I struggled with routine. I have never been able to deal with routine. 

Suddenly a small human is placed in your care; and it requires feeding on a regular schedule. It requires sleep on a regular schedule. Not, mind you, for 8 hours every night (that's a different chapter). And if you attempt to be "flexible" and "impulsive" the small human will be extremely pissed off and your day will be in ruins. Nothing will work. It only works if you stick to the dreaded routine.

And yet she is the most perfect little creature I have ever seen, and hands down the best thing we ever did. Love you, Beanie. 

A Traditional Midsummer

Bub has had a whopper of a midsummer's eve. Night spent vomiting, crying and vomiting some more. Was thinking it's perhaps teen preview, complete with worried and exhausted mother getting out of bed at 5.30 with sick bub - stepping in vomit - and spilling cold coffee on bub when undertaking first activity of the day (making coffee).

Bub is now napping. At 9.30. Grrrrreat.

Was so tired I actually forgot I'd had a shower already, and went to have another one.

Free Laptop

I've my hot little hands on a free lappie. Still have old lappie, but was so peeved with it that it actually got left behind in the land of Oz. As a consequence (indeed the consequences of anger are rarely good) have only had phones to use internet on the entire time we have been away - until now. Smart. Thought about buying new lappie, but hubby is not prone to impulsive purchases (only had two months to look around) so nothing came of it.

Spent a month in Amsterdam, in a small houseboat - passing the time between Bean Bed Time (7pm-ish) and our bedtime (totally a total secret) contemplating life, staring at our smartphones and reading an old copy of "the Beach" which found in mother-in-law's garage. Boring? you ask. Nah. Actually I have decided to redecorate when get home (to Byron Bay) - I'm chucking the TV. FUCK the TV. Mind-numbing, annoying piece of crap. Or well, at least it does not belong in the living-room. Might hide it elsewhere though, for those times one wishes to curl up with a cup of tea and an entire caramel slice; to watch the latest season of Game of Thrones. For example.

Another reason is, bub can't so much as lay eyes on a piece of technology (computer, phone, ipad etc) without going completely bonkers and wailing until she gets hold of it. What is that? No child of mine is watching telly 24-7, that's for sure. So the work of satan will be demoted to manland.

Now it is time for my 6th cup of coffee of the day, needless to say we are still in Sweden. It is Midsummer. I am awake a lot.

Sweden

We are now in a wintery and cold Sweden!
Bub has turned 1, is eating better,  sleeping well and is down to two bottles a day. Wooo!

Now we just need some sun...

Mother in Town!

My own mother has arrived in the Dam! She is keen to play with bub. Woop! Met up this morning, bub spent entire morning howling as I attempted to wash, clean and tidy. But as soon as she was with grandma she was sweet as pie. Streetcred?

Went to the dutch beach yesterday so bub exhausted and full of undigested sand. Having two hour nap waiting for grandma to come visit the boat.

Dear Bub

It's wonderful how we learn lessons from our children. For instance, at the moment we are learning that "it could always be worse."

I'm sorry I complained about bub waking at 4-5am. At least she slept until then. Now, past few nights - awake most of the night. Crawling, sitting, crying, drinking milk, playing, scratching, pinching and kicking.
Patience wearing thin. Am perhaps not most maternal person in world?

Dear bub. Mom needs a full night of sleep. Soon. Please.

Countdown

Hubby, in disbelief: "are you still following that bloody Malaysia air thing?"
Me: "get off my phone."

Must learn to delete search history...

But incidentally yes, I'm following it. Might get that valium still. Only might be a problem looking after bub when on valium?

One week left, stopping by Sydney again then destination Europe.

Bub usually wakes up between 4 and 5 am. Today she woke up at 6.30. 6.30! Was giddy with excitement. 6.30 is extreme sleep in these days.

Cot

We hatched this brilliant plan to pack our bags, our umbrella stroller, and our bub a few days before taking off to Europe - and staying with friends in Sydney.

Because obviously can't do four hour drive on same day as flight.

Have called friends and looked into train tickets. Suddenly realization. Hang on. What about cot? Cot for baby to sleep in? Baby? This baby? Oh yeah.

Travel undeniably harder with bub in tow.

But worth it!

New Routine

Again having issues logging in... maybe it's me.

My presence stuffs up technological things. Also breaks lightbulbs. Including ones that are supposedly lifetime guaranteed. Someone should do a study on me.

Update on exercise regime: Not going well.

Bub has changed routine. We appear to be on a new schedule. Thus far approximately:

- Wake up 7am.
- Be extremely tired and grumpy but not tired enough to nap, until 11am.
- Fall asleep on bottle, leave behind extremely stressed mother.
- Be awake all afternoon, whilst being tired and grumpy but not tired enough to nap.
- Be overtired and refuse to fall asleep, have 1-2 hour tantrum and pass out around 9pm, leave behind parents with a lack of will to live.

The End.

Mad Scales

It's not a secret that I have no understanding of anything operated by pressing of buttons and reading of screens. For example the telly, laptop, phone or alarm clock.

In fact as recently as this morning hubby yelled at me "learn how to use your phone!" He didn't say "fucking phone" - pardon my french - as then he would have lost 10 bucks to the swear jar.

Hubby and I are trying to stop swearing. Since a couple of days ago.

We each started with $100 in credit. I am now on -$180. MINUS.

Back to my point.

The scales. The mad high tech scales belonging to my sister-in-law. They display digital numbers and are operated by pressing buttons. Therefore impossible for me to use.

I did figure out, however, what my current weight is. I flew into a wild panic (I even went for a 30 minute swim in the local pool).

Scales had proceeded to tell me my bmi. I was obese. OBESE.

So I thought. Until hubby figured out that this, surely, was an impossibility. How on earth could scales know my height? I don't know, I sobbed in a obesity induced panic - they just, like, DO!

Hubby reckons that at some point in time my sis-in-law has typed her height into scales, as if scales were a computer. And this info is used to calculate bmi. HER bmi.

Very relieved. Very pleased to know that am in fact NOT obese. Sis-in-law is a good 20 centimeters shorter than me.

Nevertheless will try to do more exercise and stop eating so much. Got into bad habit when was breastfeeding and sleep deprived. Was looking beautifully emaciated there for a bit. Oh how quickly things can change!

She Sleeps

So when you stop breastfeeding, you should stop consuming 5000 calories a day, apparently. Wish someone told me.

Suddenly good work losing 20 kilos whilst doing nothing but sitting on couch, playing with bub and eating muffins seems undone. In the neighborhood of... don't even want to know! About to stand on sister-in-law's high tech scales which will tell me, not only weight, but bmi.

Afraid.

Had to stop breastfeeding as part of sleep training for bub. Also was desperate, sleep deprived, crying mess. Bub developed habit of staying awake most of night, leisurely feeding. Leisurely for some. After a couple of months of this, had to abandon hippie-style on demand approach in favour of scheduled meals and scheduled bottles.

And she sleeps. She sleeps. All night until 5-6am. She sleeeeeeps.

Happy Holidays

What do you mean there's no santa???

Kafka City

Am sick and therefore extra whiny but just have to touch on the, for me, biggest issue regarding living in the City. Everything takes so bloody long. You cannot get from A to B in Sydney in under an hour. Regardless of where A and B are located. You could be attempting to pop down to the corner shop and it would still bloody well take an hour return.

Had this quick errand yesterday. Simply needed to pay in the bond for the house. Should be a few minutes, right. So looked up address. Looked up three or four organic shops nearby, as well as a Boost.
(Yes, I like Boost Juice)

Expected walk to take around 20 minutes one way. Off we went. Me, hubby, bub and bub's stuff (stroller, sling, nappy bag containing nappies; change of clothes; wetwipes; toys; water; changemat; towel; antibacterial handgel; tissues; teething rusk; dummy and... some other stuff).

Anyway. Walk is longer than we expected. And the entire time in direct sun.

Get to government office handling things like bond payments. Take a number to queue. Very Swedish I thought.
Half an hour later get called up. Explain errand. Hand over card. But! Turns out they do not accept card. They also do not accept cash. Have to walk to bank to get cashiers cheque. Bank 15 minute walk away. Hubby disappears into depts of bank building for 20 minutes before finally cheque has been produced.

Get back to government office. Wait half an hour. Several people look at cheque in bewilderment.

I stand up and yell "Don't tell me you do not accept cheques! Will I stand on my head and pull the cash out of my arse - will you accept that?"

No, didn't. But considered it.

Finally it's sorted.

By this point I am exhausted and feverish; we have missed bub's lunch and bub has passed out in the stroller. I am way beyond going to any organic shops meaning will not be able to cook fresh food for bub. Again. Feel like a terrible mother.

Then cannot find Boost. Because in the City, an address is just an indication of in which bizarre mall something is hidden. Out of energy. Get sprite and chocolate - and undo years of hard work not eating garbage.

Wits End and Airport Fail

If you wish to familiarize yourself with the destination "wits end" I can inform you that it is located at the end of a 30 hour trip involving two long haul flights, with a baby in tow.

Specifically it's where you finally get home, shower, and hit the sack. Exhausted.

And bub decides sleeping is for suckers.

It's daytime, in her mind. Yet she's also confused, overstimulated and tired.

Bub has a cry, mom has a cry.

Finally, after three hours of this: bliss.  FIVE hours of sleep ladies and gentlemen. I have so much energy today. Cleaning and sweeping and making plans. Brain is admittedly a little mushy. But you know.

Brain was mush yesterday going through quarantine as well. No less than three people in uniform asked me if I had any food. Most importantly, did we take any food off the aircraft? No. No. No.

Come home and discover three little packets of peanuts inside handbag.

Woops. Is this what is known as a "fail"?

Worried Bub

Bub very worried last night. Achieved record of waking half an hour after falling asleep, then cried like there was no way she could cope with all the world's problems. Poor bub. Took three hours to sort out.

I changed the nappy. For fresh start. Put bub back in cot. Bub looks me straight in the eye and, I swear to god, smiles. Then poops.

I change the nappy. Bub goes back in cot, turns over on her belly, and poops.

I change the nappy.

We play "roll over" for another two hours then bub sleeps. For two hours.

I think all this is an important developmental stage. Bub is simply very intelligent.

Sleep Facts and Sweden

Sleep fact: three hours in a row is better than four spread out over the night. But one solid hour is better than a half hour.

Up throughout night with bub every 90 minutes. First wake at 8.30pm, that is to say - not even I was even in bed at that time. She's going for some kind of new record.

I know. Am harping on about sleep. It's true that parents speak of sleep like a starving person speaks of food.

Of course, keep hearing and reading about babies who sleep from 6 to 6 and such. Who nap for a total of 5 hours per day and still mommy gets concerned when they sleep less. 5 hours. You're fucking kidding me.

A friend had a baby at the same time as me. She seems to have a schedule allowing for bikram yoga and outings to cafes. Hmm. Jealous. Do not deny friend this. It's just that... are our babies actually from different planets?

I think I should be able to get back to yoga when bub is one year old. Hopefully. If all goes well.

We're still in Sweden. Have loved this time with family and friends. Bub travels quite well, am not concerned about jet lag. Doesn't sleep anyway etcetera.

Have one week to go. Going to be very sad to leave. But then... I get to spend some time in the Byron paradise so can't complain.

Evil poison?

So bub seemed to get over the jet lag ok, after initially being a bit sore about the fact that we woke her in middle of night-sleep, and it was daylight on top of everything else...
Then has been waking earlier every night. Last night 1am. Like. 1. Am.
In desperation I gave up coffee today. Haven't been having coffee back in oz, at all. But love swedish coffee. And was quite conservative. Maybe two cups a day. Or three.

Amazingly she is now sleeping.

Two hours.

Coffee is evil poison. 

Everything fun is evil poison...