Down with the kids

Worm farming

Consider for a moment the environmental footprint of a family of 5, with 3 of them under 5 years. On a good day it’s about the size of one from the abominable snowman! So, to assuage our conscience - and attempt to get our bins to close, DSO and I have invested in a worm farm.

The strange thing is that I am in equal parts drawn to, and repulsed by our little living compost factory. I love peeling the veggies and thinking - “Nope that’s not for the bin, the worms will get a great meal out of this! ” I also love the idea of our table waste fertilizing the garden.

However, I find the actual contents of the black box quite repulsive. I have to hold my nose when I feed them and brace myself to collect the liquid fertilizer that gathers in the bottom tray. I also fret about their diet - have they had too much banana peel today?

I often read about worm farms on the internet. This is not helpful as the material often focuses on problems…

To be honest, if our wormy friends become over run by slaters or vermin I think I’ll have to opt out. I’ll leave them on a street corner with a sign attached - “worm farm free to a good home”.

I can handle 3 children, 1 DSO, 1 dog and 1,000 worms but the vermin - they would just push me over the edge!

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10 things I just remembered about living with a new baby

1. That special new baby smell, where does it come from?

2. How impossibly soft and downy their heads are - you could sit all day with them cuddled into your neck floating in that new mum soup of hormones. Your baby is irresistible!

3. How much they sleep - yet ironically, how little they sleep when you need to sleep!

4. How perfect their tiny feet and hands are. How could they have grown inside of you? It is an everyday miracle.

5. How primed for survival they are - insistent in their demands and violent in their little tempers - if the tummy is empty they need food now!

6. How quiet it is in the middle of the night - the whole world asleep with your little baby looking up at you.

7. The violence of their gut as they gulp down sustenance and push it out either end in violent explosions!

8. The way they look at you and sniff at you, putting the world together, perceiving patterns and adding knowledge every day.  Our baby girl now scrunches her little head down when she hears Little Bro running towards her shouting - “Kiss baby!”

9. How you can’t be apart from them - without a strange uncontrollable panic squeezing your heart!

10. How sleep deprivation affects short term memory - how many times today did I walk into the kitchen and then think, what am I in here for?

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Speak, think, speak

Big Sis takes after DSO and I, we are all “speak, think, speak” types (categorisation courtesy of personality testing at the hands of the corporate world). In laymans’ terms - we are talkers who don’t necessarily know where we are going when we start!

Big Sis can come into our bed at 2am and tell us about the dream she has just had - in real time. Last night it was a scary dream where Little Bro was trapped in her Kinder bag and as hard as she tried she couldn’t pull him out, this is an abbreviated description, hers goes for 20 minutes.

But, not only does she tell a mean (and long) story but she has the cross examination skills of a QC. She leads you along until you realised you are completely cornered.

This morning she was following a line of questioning about poo (a favorite topic) and asked DSO how mermaids do poos. DSO thinking on his feet responded - “Just like fish do”. Big Sis was back in a flash - “The fish we eat don’t do poos do they?”

How to answer this one while ensuring that she continues to eat fish? And the next one - “In the water we drink?” DSO will often call me later in the day to fill me in on the morning conversation cross-examination, just to make sure I corroborate his story!

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Zen and the art of babies

Running a household with a 4 year old, 2 year old and a newborn is, in one word, busy! I don’t mean - Oh I’m a bit busy because I’ve got a few things on my plate, I mean busier than I could ever have imagined!

The baby feeds every few hours. While doing this I’m also required to read stories, do puzzles and meter out hollow threats to little ones who take the opportunity to jump on the furniture or climb on stools to raid the fridge.

Babies are really labour intensive, so there is also changing, washing, settling and just cuddling. In between this Big Sis has an active social life of various engagements, dance class, Kindergarten, play-dates etc which require the organisation of a major conference just to get her there and back, with the baby, Little Bro and Big Sis.

Plus everyone has to be shopped for, and fed and Little Bro still needs some one on one time with his toys so he doesn’t miss out. The kids need to get out to the park to run about for a couple of hours every day and Dog needs the occasional walk otherwise he retaliates by getting into the garbage bins and barking just as the baby nods off. Kids need to be bathed every day and put in pjs and have stories read - always at the time the baby really wants some attention.

Even the small things like - the bins need to go out, or the groceries need to be put away have to be fit in somewhere. There are hours every day just picking things up and putting them back in place. Don’t even get me started on the volume of washing, drying and folding (I haven’t ironed for 3 years - I let that ball drop a long time ago…)

Fortunately love is the most amazing motivator - it’s all very Zen, you just have to ignore everything peripheral and get absorbed in the moment. It reminds me of going camping where the relaxation comes from being totally absorbed by the basics, food, shelter and structuring a day in what are adverse circumstances!

DSO and I have no time for anything at the moment except survival, and as we remarked the other night (across crying baby and yelling children) we got ourselves into this mess - so we better enjoy it! I just hope no-one is expecting me to answer the phone or return a call in the next 6 months!

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Baby from Big Sis’ Perspective

Check out the picture Big Sis drew (click on it to see the detail) - it really made DSO and I laugh! The large figure in the centre is Big Sis, she is standing next to the cake that she and Little Bro made (with the help of my wonderful sister) and bought into the hospital for Tertia. The figure on the right is Tertia. The tiny little figure on the far left is Little Bro!

The fact that DSO and I don’t figure is no accident - we are not relevant, and poor Little Bro is barely there! I suspect he is included for perspective - to show the relative importance of Big Sis and Tertia!

It’s a study in the ego-centrism of a 4 year old! It also shows how Big Sis has reacted to a baby in the house. She loves her little sister and shows no jealousy. I think she just wishes we’d all go away and let her get on with the most important job of all - big sister!

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Birth story

So there we were - 7 days overdue and hanging out in the delivery suite. I was wearing my birth t-shirt (see photo above) and bouncing on my birthing ball while DSO reclined in an easy chair next to me. We watched Series 1 and 2 of Seinfeld on our laptop.

My waters had been broken and at my insistence we were waiting to see if contractions would establish themselves, before resorting to the drip. We waited in vain for about 4 hours or so, and by the end even Jerry Seinfeld was failing to distract me. At one point I started looking through all the mysterious cupboards around the room.

In the first I found what appeared to be modular stirrups addition to the bed. It was very IKEA and I speculated what they would call it, maybe the GYNO? Anyway, I was in for more of a fright when I looked in the next cupboard to find a tray of instruments - all obviously designed to poke and prod vulnerable flesh! It reminded me of Lisa Simpsons visit to the dentist - “Now, this little girl is the poker, and this is the scraper, and this little beauty is the gouger!” After that discovery DSO banned further looking in cupboards!

By 2 o’clock I was sufficiently resigned to the fact that Tertia wasn’t coming out on her own so they put up the drip! In retrospect I didn’t need to be so frightened of the drip as I went on to have a very smooth labour.

In Australia we play a particular code of football called Aussie Rules. It seems strange in a world context but this game is an absolute obsession in our region of Australia. It dominates the news, social life and the hearts and minds of most locals.

The day of Tertia’s birth happened to be Grand Final Day - the biggest day of the annual football calendar. There was a tv in the corner of the delivery suite and although DSO and I are far from football fanatics we had the football on the tv, albeit with the sound off.

This had 2 beneficial effects:

1. Dr Ob had another woman in labour at the same time in another delivery suite but having the footy on the tv in our room meant he spent much more time with us.

2. It was the perfect thing to look at between contractions, I was vaguely interested and could be easily mesmerised by the movement and energy. I also got to look at the footy players smashing and crashing around and think - yeah, you think your tough but look at what I’m doing!

The weird thing was that the contractions started at the bounce, the game goes for 100 minutes and Tertia came into the world at the final siren!

By far the most surreal moment of the day was when Tertia crowned only to retreat again. I looked up at Dr Ob who said - “Oh she’s disappeared, don’t worry she’ll come back with the next contraction”. Waiting for the next contraction I noticed that both Dr Ob and the midwife had their heads turned away from me, watching the final moments of the game - for some reason I found this strangely comforting. In a few minutes, and at the final siren we delivered a beautiful and healthy baby girl.

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank a few people. Firstly, Dr Ob for his skill and care during gestation and delivery - thank you for helping us bring three healthy and wonderful babies into the world.

Thanks also to DSO for being the best birth companion anyone could wish for, I expected the calm tenderness but who knew we could find so much humor in the day?

Finally, thanks Jerry Seinfeld - you really are a comic genius!

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Introducing a new character to the cast of Down with the kids!

Here she is - a perfect little girl born 29 September 2007.

Big Sis is beside herself with excitement, and Little Bro is well, just beside himself!  I am recuperating well - and yes, we made it to the Park Hyatt!  All of this and more will be the subject of future posts, this is just a quick one to introduce our gorgeous baby girl (8lbs 4 at birth).

Any suggestions for her Down with the kids! “name” are much appreciated.

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The waiting place

Perusing all things pregnancy related on the internet (as pregnant woman tend to do), I’ve found lots of lists of things to do as you approach and then go past your due date….

Here is the real list with the addendum “when you have a couple of other kids already”:

1. Tidy something up, this nesting urge is unrelenting!
2. Leave the room you have just tidied, return to discover the kids have untidied what you just tidied. Tidy it again.
3. Try and sneak into the new babies room to pat your belly and gaze at the baby clothes, don’t let the other kids see you otherwise everything will be dragged around the house and turned upside down!
4. Re-read the sections of your pregnancy books about the onset of labour, seeking a magical key that will tell you when it is going to happen. Of course, there is no magic key, and you have read these sections over 100 times. Wonder idly whether this is how people with obsessive compulsive disorder feel?
5. Make plans for the week ahead so you have other things to focus on, but secretly fantasise about calling from hospital to say you have had a beautiful baby and can’t make it!
6. Produce your best fake smile to every person (and there are a few every day) who say “Oh - your still here!”, and “How long now?” or worse still “You don’t look like you’ve dropped at all!” At all costs avoid the urge to physically assault them, it’s a bad look in the third trimester.
7. Do yet another load of washing to make sure all your undies and pjs are clean for your “hospital bag”. Feel disappointed when, after another labour free day or night, you have to take something out of your hospital bag!
8. Take the kids through what is about to happen - “You might wake-up one morning and mummy and daddy wont be here - that’s because we’ll be at hospital having the new baby!”, watch their eyes glaze over and realise that they don’t actually believe it’s ever going to happen.
9. Feel a twinge or a really strong Braxton-Hicks, maybe it’s starting? Sit there looking optimistic for a few minutes and then realise it was nothing!
10. Run through the care arrangements for kids in your head - mother in law is out this morning but neighbour is there, double check mobile number is handy. Neighbour leaves at 11am but friend up the road should be contactable then. Test yourself on fallback plan at random times of the day, every day - just in case. This needs to happen every day from 38 weeks!
11. Consider natural remedies, maybe book in for acupuncture? Dismiss them as costly and possibly ineffective, plus if you can get someone to look after the kids long enough you may as well have a sleep! Once dismissed immediately start considering them again.

Oh - was that a twinge? No, false alarm…

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Impressing the kids

We ventured on a family outing on Sunday with one of Big Sis’ favorite friends, the 4 year old boy next door. It could well be the last time we take an extra kid anywhere - until our hand is forced and we buy that 7 seater family van - but let’s not think about it yet (the mere speculation gives me the shivers)!

DSO enjoys our car’s automatic sunroof. I on the other hand spend my days minimising sun exposure for the family and really only appreciate it at night, in the middle of summer!

It was a touchstone moment when DSO opened the sunroof and glanced over his shoulder expectantly to hear the - “Wow, that’s cool!” and “I love your car! ” erupt from our 4 year old passenger.

DSO smiled and nodded, looking pleased - but his face quickly fell as realisation dawned:

“I can’t believe I’m trying to impress a 4 year old with the features of my car!”, DSO exclaimed.

No DSO, neither can I - but when you spend the majority of your time with under 5’s I think it’s inevitable, and on the upside they are a pretty receptive audience!

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Pink, pink and more pink

I was keen to encourage Big Sis to dress herself and she has embraced it with both hands! It’s been an interesting process teaching her appropriate clothing for weather conditions and events.

It’s Springtime here and quite under her own volition she has developed her own trans- seasonal style. She wears a long sleeve top and trousers with a skirt and t-shirt over the top. Depending on the random combination selected she can look quite funky!

Sometimes she gets to the end and puts her Snow White dress over the top of it all. I think she’s noticed that a little girl dressed as Snow White gets lots of attention - something Big Sis likes!

The main issue at the moment is that she is only wearing about 30% of her clothes because everything has to be pink, or ‘approximately pink’. I say ‘approximately pink’ because on some days lilac or a rosy purple seems to be tolerated. It reminds me of those celebrities that only eat a particular coloured food. These days I read something like “Demi Moore only eats food that is green or purple” and I think - “What is she, 4 years old?”

Anyway, I’m riding out the pink fixation without comment - I figure she has to grow out of it and it probably isn’t worth an hour long argument every morning. Choose your battle, as they say in the kids’ instruction manuals.

Little Bro is observing all this with interest and although he doesn’t insist on choosing his clothes or dressing himself he has developed his own particular preferences. Being a boy they tend to be around comfort rather than fashion or colour.

He refuses to wear belts and as soon as he sees one produced hides his head in his hands and screams - “Tight!”

This morning I put him in a pair of tracksuit pants and he exclaimed loudly “Aaaah, comfy!”

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