So tall!
TJ is learning to take his weight on his legs, which is super exciting for all- and somewhat freaky when his sister stands next to him. What a difference two and a half years can make!
A New Era
For the last two months or so, TJ has only settled in our arms during the day. If I put him into his cot, fast asleep, I’d be lucky to get half an hour before he woke up (and would then need to take ages to settle him back down again). A few weeks ago we switched to faster-flow bottle teats (as one is meant to at 3 months), and at the same time started dosing him with infant gaviscon. The difference in his feeding was noticeable immediately, and a week later he was sleeping better both during the day and at night (but still in my arms during the day as I didn’t want to risk messing with his improving sleep patterns by letting him wake up and get too tired to feed properly, causing him to wake early for the next feed and continue on in a vicious cycle).
So this week, feeding issues done (for now….it won’t be long before solids start), we girded our loins for Operation Let Mum Play Actively With The Other Kid At Some Point Please, Or Possibly Do Some Housework Or Whatever.
We altered the bassinet so instead of being a three-sided device attached to my side of the bed, it’s a four-sided wheeled device that can meander all around the house as needed. Because it would be needed: every time TJ was about to go to sleep, we’d put him in it and settle him inside the cot (as the sleep classes tell parents to do, teaching that if you wait until they’re asleep before moving them, they get disoriented during the light part of their sleep cycle, and wake up).
Some friends of ours had a baby that wouldn’t sleep in a cot for NINE MONTHS, day or night, so I just didn’t know how it was going to go.
It went like. . . a dream. From the very first time I put TJ in the bassinet and patted him to sleep in there, he didn’t just stay asleep longer, but he also went to sleep faster. It might all be an evil ploy to lull us into a false sense of security. . . or it might be just one of those times when a parent happens to hit on the exact right moment and the exact right method and the exact right tools all at the same time, the first time.
Here is the bassinet in permutation #2, as modelled by both our kids:
One of the kids above is genuinely asleep and one is only pretending. Can you guess which is which?
Here is a clue:
For those who are wondering, permutation #3 of the bassinet is either a kids’ seat or desk – either one with a possibility of shelves too. And yes, my epically talented (and carpentry qualified, and safety obsessed) father-in-law made it.
Friends
Louisette’s favourite school friend came over today, along with her 16-month old sister (not in this pic but it’ll be interesting to see what happens between her and TJ as they all grow up).
Also, apparently TJ will soon acquire the ability to bash two toys together to make a noise. I gave him two textas to have a go, and he was much more interested in mouthing them (despite how much the photo makes it look like he’s deliberately bringing them together). He blew a raspberry today, which I remember is some kind of vitally important milestone (for tongue development? Social skills? Early teen rebellion?)
Care
TJ playing with his snow-leopard open-handed, very slowly as he experiments with different movements.
Louisette (including dummy this time, because a little bit of honesty about real life is good for you) and TJ.
TJ’s monthly caterpillar-and-tux photo – two days late.
Triumph
A couple of nights ago, I finished a novel. This is hardly. . . er. . . novel, since I’ve now written fourteen altogether (Gee Crikey Willikers, Etc) – and that’s only the ones I’ve finished.
Last year I tried the Mirena contraceptive, hoping it’d help solve some of the health issues left over from pregnancy #1. Instead it made things epically, spectacularly (but temporarily) worse. It took longer to remove than usual, and during those horrid months I had to take sick leave because the Mirena made me so depressed (and sick, but I could almost handle that). Desperate to find a way out of the pit, I started a novel.
The Mirena was removed, and I felt it was better to get on with pregnancy #2 than to sit around being unhealthy and miserable for longer. We conceived more or less instantly (scroll down for pics of the results…) which was great, but meant I had maybe a fortnight before the nausea etc completely took over my life. I did Christmas shopping, took extra shifts at work, visited friends like I was about to go on holidays, and so on. Although I’d hoped to finish the novel, it didn’t happen. Once that fortnight passed, I knew it would likely never be finished. It was 33,000 words long (more than halfway through a young adult first draft), and was by no means the worst novel I’ve ever attempted. So that was a shame.
Fast forward to this year. TJ is here and although he’s super easy in most ways, it’s been a long time since he’s settled during the day except in my arms. So I’m rooted in place for around twelve hours a day (even when CJ comes home, because he can’t hold TJ while doing the dishes), and watching the effect of yet more neglect on Louisette (who’s had a very sick mum for a year now) is heartbreaking.
Since Louisette was born, I’m largely mentally healthy – except when physical problems persist more than a couple of weeks. Which would be fine if my health was average, but it’s only been three and a half months since the last (and, thankfully, final) pregnancy, and it’ll be another nine months before the hormones finish leaving my system – then who knows how long to fully recover after that, but definitely years for weight alone (I was in the healthy weight range when we began trying to conceive the first time). So this time around I have post-partum depression. Awesome. And a MASSIVE debt due to pregnancy illness. Oh, and right now I have bronchitis for the THIRD time since having kids – and it’s no coincidence that each time followed a few weeks of gentle, controlled weight loss. I can’t win. (It’s awfully early to be deliberately losing weight post-partum, but I weigh so much now that it’s a serious issue all by itself.)
It’s really hard to imagine life even a few weeks from now, when things will likely be utterly different on the TJ front. I work hard to remember how quickly babies change, and that the worst is over, and that there is an outside world.
Once again I turned to writing, because I feel awful about my parenting at the moment, and I needed the other side of myself to take me out of the crapness.
Long story short, I wrote a novel. I wrote it in a month, from concept to (first-draft) completion – a large chunk of that WITH a baby on my lap and a toddler on the whine, often causing me to write one-handed, stopping and starting as the baby stirred or the toddler made a new demand. Or I had to stop for another painful bout of coughing.
It always takes courage to write a book, and after the first one the hardest book is the one you write when so, so many other books have been so, so rejected. It takes a special kind of courage as a parent – and, let’s face it, as a mother in particular because that’s how our world tends to work – because you need to actually convince yourself from moment to moment that writing for an hour a day (or however much) is more important than sleep, or playing with the kids, or cleaning, or seeing another doctor, or having an adult conversation.
That’s something I do believe, which is an extraordinary thing. After all these years, I still believe in my writing more than virtually anything else.
I really, really hope I’m not wrong.
Tummy Time, and Yerrabi Pond
Today TJ fell asleep on his stomach for the first time (front and feet views supplied), and we also went to Yerrabi Pond Playground for a church picnic.
Felicity Banks 