A Food Update

So here's where we're at with baby food these days.

Life is better because Cate can eat pretty much what we eat. I no longer spend time whipping up purees and mashes - this is a positive. I also have a child who has gone completely off baby custards / rices / oatmeals. Again, this is good thing as they are crapola anyways and expensive in the long run. So - the negatives. I seem to have a relatively fussy eater - she eats little amounts lots of times during the day rather than three set meals. This is painful (for me!) and I'm not sure it's a great habit. Another negative is that often quick and easy stuff to give Cate is probably not what's best for her. Case in point: I don't think she's seen or tasted a vegetable in a month. Hmmmmm.

Here is a completely honest overview of what Cate ate today. Try not to judge me!

* 1 slice vegemite toast, one spoonful of strawberry yoghurt (off the yoghurt today it would appear) and a splash around in my cereal (I kid you not. She plays with it. Some of it actually ends up in her mouth though so I'm counting it) for breakfast.
* 1 scotch finger biscuit (thanks to my Nan for introducing these...)
* Half a white choc and berry scone (kept her quiet whilst I crusied the shops)
* 1 box of sultanas (yay, these have got to count as healthy right?)
* 1 bite of my Boost bar * blushes furiously*
* 1 banana (couldn't believe she ate the whole thing...but it WAS after swimming)
* 3 mouthfuls of grated cheese
* 1 tiny baby sized hamburger (I made these and they had fetta and parsely in them. That parsely is as close as it gets to a vegetable!)
* 1 small tub of banana custard

Geez, that actually looks like more than I thought it was!! Kudos for me! (keep in mind she had 400mls of milk as well, plus water)

As you can see though, a fair bit of crap in there considering she's 14 months old. Do I feel guilty about that? Yup. Am I just relieved she's eating anything at all after long periods of food refusal? Yup. So I guess I'll just keep keeping on for the moment - with maybe a vegie thrown in there for good measure one of these days!

Before I sign off for tonight better fill you in on our new highchair habits too (seeing as it's kinda food related). Basically Miss Cate now has a lowchair. She refuses to be strapped in to her high chair (the tantrums are Oscar worthy) so I ahev lowered it to prevent a fall. Since it's been lowered she's actually stopped crawling out on to the tray - bonus. As you can see in the pics - she often stands to eat. Truthfully? I don't care. As long as she eats, I'm happy. Some days this means food from floor to ceiling, some days it means she eats on the run. I know I am breeding a table manners monster but...like the refrain goes...I don't care. Besides...she's pretty damn cute no? ;)

There's Miss Cate eating her custard like a pro and there's the cheeky minx standing up in her low chair happy as can be. Bless x

Christmas Wrap Up

So, we survived Christmas 2009. I shouldn't say 'survived' as it makes it sounds like Christmas sucks, which is most certainly doesn't. It is, however, exhausting...and coming out of three full on days of Christmas celebrations has made me realise it's time to par it down it little.

Having had that little moan, I can safely say that Christmas was fantastic this year, with my highlight being Christmas Eve (it usually is). It was wonderful watching Cate play with her two year old cousin, we had a huge feast with masses of prawns and crayfish (sooooooo gooooooood) and then we swapped presents with each other. Cate went down without any fuss after an extra late bedtime as an added bonus. I missed my sister who was OS (and my hubby REALLY missed his drinking buddy!) but other than that it was a usual Putker Christmas: my folks' going nuts, spoiling us rotten and me bagging the crap out of my poor brother and all of us laughing, eating and drinking way too much.

Christmas morning was very quiet and calm and the spotlight was on Cate as she opened her presents from Santa, Mummy and Daddy, her Grandparents and her aunts and uncles - phew, it took ages! It is hard for a little girl to get through THAT many pressies! The all time favourite so far has been her $4 Big W nobbly ball - she received one from Mummy and Daddy and one from her dog, Porthos (because Daddy bought her a ball after forgetting Mummy had already done that!). Another face has been the board book copy of Where Is The Green Sheep? - it's already been nibbled on and has passed the tasty test. It's the little things that are the most fun apparently - which is exactly as it should be.

Christmas night was spent with Justin's family and here I enjoyed watching Cate scramble to sit up at the table with the big kids (the next cousin is two years older than Cate). She was spoilt rotten yet again - but this time, she'd piked before the pressies were handed out, so she got another Christmas morning on Boxing Day!!

We stayed the night at Justin's sister's house and, on Boxing Day morning, Cate woke up at 7.30am - a sleep in! Justin's sister, God love her, jumped out of bed, set up Cate's stroller, whipped her out of our arms and took her away for a long walk. Justin and I gleefully snuggled back down under the covers and slept for another two hours....what an amazing Christmas present :)

All in all, Christmas this year made me feel very blessed. I have a wonderful extended family and a very special little family of my own. Life is good!

PS The piccies are a bit out of order!
First we have Cate, completely dead to the world on Christmas Night - she was exhausted. Second we have Miss Cate dressed her in Christmas Outfit - a gorgeous white dress with red and white stripey socks, black patent leather shoes and a red bow in her hair - so sweet. Then we have Cate enjoying some Christmas monring chocolate - only happens once a year, right?! And, finally, we have Cate, utterly delighted with her new ball.

Mummy Sleep

Oh Lordy, I'm fecked. Soooooooo tired. But here I sit typing away on the computer and, before I know it, it'll be 11pm and I'll be cursing myself for not slipping off to bed earlier.

I am a BIG fan of sleeping. Huge. Pre-baby I was the kind of girl who had to have 8 hours a night or I turned feral. Asleep by 10pm at the latest, up most mornings at 6.30pm for work. Saturday mornings were SLEEP INS. And I don't just mean any old sleep in - I regularly cracked the 1pm-er. A standard, general sleep in was at least 10am. To the point where friends and family dared not ring before 'double figures'.

In my early pregnancy (first 14 weeks) sleep was my number one pregnancy symptom. I needed it. Craved it. Fantasized about it. Ooooooooo, sleep. I often tucked myself into bed at 5.30pm and slept right through til 6.30am during the working week. I napped very day after work and was actually known to cry in utter despair and frustration when woken to socialise (we have a weekly Wednesday night dinner with friends that we have been doing for six years now. Keeping it going has always been an utter breeze...except for those first fourteen weeks. Poor Justin witnessed many a tanty as I prepared to do something as lovely as going out for dinner with our best mates. Please, don't mess with me and my sleep).

Having read the above, you'd expect the early weeks with a new baby to have been hell for me...but they weren't. Firstly, after Cate arrived, I actually started getting more sleep, as pre-baby I was waking every hour for the loo and post baby I was at least getting 3 - 4 hourly stretches...it felt decadant! Also, new mums are expected to be tired and people were incredibly accommodating. I could go to my parents and sleep there, I had friends who came over and sat with Cate whilst I napped. I also felt fine about popping myself off to bed whilst she napped in the morning or afternoon whilst I was home alone. I was spoilt. So, no, the early days, whilst hazy, weren't so bad. It's now the sleep deprivation has really set in.

You know why?

Because it's PERMANENT.

I don't have weekends to lounge around in bed all morning. To catch up. To make a deposit in the sleep bank. Each night when Cate goes down I know I should follow...but I CAN'T. I just crave the non-baby time so much, going to sleep seems like it would be an utter waste. I can't sleep during the day anymore either - it just fels like far too much when you have a 14 month old, not a new born. The house calls, the internet calls, friends drop by or call - nap time just disappears. Add to that the fact that when she sleeps (and I only get one day sleep out of her) I have to shower RIGHT THEN if I want to enjoy a baby-free shower (yes please).

Right now my eyes are gritty, my attitude is shitty and yet I still sit here typing away instead of getting my arse tucked up in bed. What is wrong with me?

*Shakes head sorrowfully. Re-reads post. Realises what an idiot she is, turns off computer and GOES TO BED. Finally!*

Our Christmas Traditions

Lots of the blogs I've been reading lately have been talking about Christmas traditions, inclduing the biggie....Santa. To Santa or not to Santa...that is the question my friends.

But first to Christmas traditions. We're only a new little family (this our second Christmas with our baby) so we don't have many of our own traditions (we spend Christmas first at my folks' house (we stay there Christmas Eve) and then at one of Justin's siblings' places (we stay there Christmas Night)). So far we:

* Take a walk around town in the dark and look at the houses with their lights up. Easy to do last year when Cate was tiny and snuggled in the Ergo (and also sporting a 10pm bedtime), not so easy to do this year when it will mean waking her from slumber to chug around in the pram. Still. We will persist as it's lovely walking in the dark with my little fam and there is this gorgeous house that does an utterly amazing life-sized nativity scene complete with the three wise men and the star.

* Buy Cate a Christmas Eve outfit that is utterly and unashamedly Christmasy. Last year it was a Santa hat with a red 'Baby's First Christmas' onesie, this year it is a cute-as-a-button Mrs Claus outfit. Can't wait to get her ready for mass in this darling little number.

As you can see, it's not much! This year we are adding 'Going to Christmas Eve Mass as a Family' to the list for the first time. Every previous year I have gone with my mum and sister in my hometown parish. This year, Justin and I will take Cate to mass in our own parish - a big step for me! I am sad to not be with my mum and sister but excited to be with my own little family.

Next year we'll be adding several other Christmas traditions to the mix. First, we'll have a tree. Have skipped it for a few years as we don't spend Christmas here AND I didn't want to deal with a tree and a 14 month old. But next year Cate will be old enough to understand a tree so we'll get one and decorate it together and it will be grand. She'll also receive a stocking next year with her name on it and Santa will fill that with little pressies. Fun! Next year we will also be ready to start telling the story of the nativity and Cate will have an advent calander too.

Now to the Santa bit. I have no problem with Santa. I don't care that his image is taken from a 1930s Coca-Cola ad, I have no problem with Cate sitting on 'Santa's' lap for a picture (as long as Cate is happy to sit with Santa - if not, no big deal) and I don't consider it lying to my child when I induldge in accepted childhood fantasties such as Santa and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. Cate will receive a stocking from Santa and a present or two under the tree from Santa and I hope she'll enjoy the Christmas Eve anticipation and excitment, the long process of falling asleep and the delightful anticipation of waking in the morning, knowing at last, it's time to get up and celebrate (a.k.a get up and rip the hell out of every available wrapped item!). For me the problem isn't with Santa, the problem is that sometimes the hyper-excitement about Santa takes away from the real meaning of Christmas - and for me, as a Catholic, this is to celebrate Jesus' birth.

Now I'm not all happy-clappy freaky-deaky religious and I'm hardly a model Catholic. But I was raised Catholic and I have had my child baptised. It is therefore extremely important to me that, alongside Santa, is Jesus...and that the beautiful story of Jesus' birth is not swept to the side in an orgy of presents and red suits and white beards.

On future Christmas Eves I hope my baby girl is excited not only beacuse Santa is coming, but also because it's time to celebrate Jesus' birthday. I hope she finds peace and wonder in carols like 'Silent Night' and 'O Holy Night'. I hope she continues to stare at the nativity and want to reach out and touch it (okay, so hopefully she won't want to slobber all over Mary and Joseph as has been the case this year...teething and the nativity don't mix!). Most of all, I just can't wait to experience the wonder, magic and excitment of Christmas through my baby girl's eyes. To me this is what Christmas is all about.

PS Excuse the lack of pics lately...my camera died. Boo Hoo. Perfect time for a replacement to crop up BUT not sure the budget will stretch to cameras when I just recived over $800 of bills in the mail. Bah Humbug!

PPS But here is ONE little piccie - Cate did sit on Santa's lap this year with little fuss, although it didn't exactly thrill her. Oh well!

Three Things

I've been absent for the last few days because, well, life cropped up :P Nothing like actually having things to do, people to meet and parties to play at to get in the way of dedicated blogging.

First exciting thing to happen in the last few days was that my husband graduated from being a firefighter recruit into a fully fledged, has-the-uniform-and-badge-to-prove-it firefighter. This was the culmination of over three years of applications, interviews and recruitment processes, as well as the past 16 weeks of firefighting training. It's been tough emotionally, physically and mentally for Justin and it's also been tough on us as a family unit. So it was wonderful to celebrate the start of his new career. We did so with a graduation ceremony at the Royal Melbourne Showgrounds (he looked very tasty in the uniform by the way!) and a posh rooftop party in the city afterwards with all the blokes from his training course and their partners (where I drank far too much and had a ball). Justin had his first offical day at work today and will work four days on, four days off for the rest of his career. Fairly mindblowing and something we'll all be getting used to over the next few weeks. (The piccie above is pretty crappy. My sister took better ones and I'll upload one here when I get copies) (Oh and Justin is the one in the middle in the back row! Looking very serious!).

Second exciting thing to happen was that I escaped to the beach for the night with a group of great girlfriends. We met at work a few years back and have stuck together ever since, celebrating birthdays and taking overnight trips. Two of the girls in the group are among my best ever mates and everyone in the 'gang' is good value. It was lovely to leave my husband and baby behind and head off to the beach for girly chats, bubbles and shopping. Must admit though that it was even better coming home as, whilst I was away and walking along the gorgeous Jan Juc beach, all I could think about was how exciting it will be to take Cate to the beach this summer. I'm looking forward to some special day trips with Justin and Cate as we explore summer as a little family (albeit, a little family on an extremely tight budget right now...at least day-tripping to the beach is relatively cheap!).

Third exciting thing to happen was that it finally hit me that's it's Christmas THIS WEEK! Four more sleeps until Christmas Eve, one of my favourite times of year. This year, for the first time ever, Justin and I will be staying in our home town and going to mass as a little family. After mass we'll hightail it to my parents place, 25 minutes away for a Christmas Eve feast, family chatter and laughs and some bubbles of course. And Christmas morning - Cate's first year of understanding presents! Incredibly excited to watch her getting excited about paper and ripping (even if the gifts won't mean much just yet).

Good times, good times.

Calmer now

Just thought I should quickly pop in before bed to let you know that I am MUCH calmer now than I was this time last night. Here's why:

1) The nasty pasty warrant situation has been sorted for the time being and it looks as if I was firmly in the right (according to Vic Roads' records anyway). Still had to waste half a day chasing, filling in paper work and what not BUT I may have just saved my family $228 so it was worth it. Still have to wait to hear how it turns out but it is dealt with for now.

2) I had a shocking night's sleep because I was so snotty I couldn't breathe. BUT I purchased Codral Cold and Flu today and now have codine running through my system. Bless you codine, bless you.

3) I got my period this morning. Might just explain why I was so tense yesterday *blushes*. So no baby yet...but I have a magic box of Clomid sitting in my bedside drawer and a merry festive season to get through yet so you never know!

Night night...

Rant for the Day

Okay I am pissed off. Justin has just tried to encourage me to go to bed but I was snakey like a two year old and I refused (very mature). I need to blog this out of my system, wash my feet (long story) and go to bed. Might try and consume some chocolate in that time as well.

I digress.

So I'm peeved. It all started this afternoon when I received a $228 fine and a notice that there is a warrant out against me (!!) because I APPARENTLY drove an unregistered vehicle in April....April 2005. Yes, you read that right. I received a fine for something that happened nearly five years ago. WTF? Add to that the fact that I did NOT fail to register my car and I know this for a fact as I am completely anal about paying car rego before the due date, it's one of my little habits that goes hand in hand with my OCD.

Of course, I rang the helpful little number and spoke to a machine. Humph! I will now have to spend tomorrow chasing down Vic Roads and possibly Australia Post trying to get times, dates and payment methods from a payment I made nearly five years ago. Should be super, super fun. Not. I then have to send my 'evidence' off to someone far, far away with a scary form from the internet. Thrilled I'm not.

Coupled with this highly annoying and frustrating turn of events is that fact that I have contracted possibly the most annoying cold on earth - my nose is literally dripping. It's disgusting, uncomfortable and embarrasing. I can't breathe properly and I am fed up.

So f**k you world. I'm OVER YOU today.

Am now off to wash my feet (yes, another OCD habit, I cannot get into bed with dirty feet, it grosses me out beyond belief), scoff that choccie and hit the hay. Hopefully tomorrow's Resolution of Fine / Warrant excursion is a success - wish me luck!

Glee

Okay, confession time. I am OBSESSED with Glee. Best. Show. Ever.

At the conclusion of the first episode, Justin looked over at me, sighed and said "you want to be in Glee Club, right?". I didn't even need to answer - HELL YES! Singing and dancing? Yup. The awkward, geeky girl and the high school stud? Yup. The teacher who believed in them? Yup. This show is like crack for me.

So there are aspects I don't like. I hated the fake pregnancy thing and have wanted Will to leave Terri since the first episode. I wish all the Glee Club kids loved each other, I get jack of Rachel being a pain and the other kids loathing her. I hated that Emma was going to marry Ken. I can't stand what Rachel wears. Most of all though...I hate the ads. TOO MANY! I wait all week for this show and feels like it rushes by in ten minutes.

So what do I LOVE about Glee? Finn (Hubba. The scene where he was singing to the sonogram I bawled like a baby). Rachel's voice. Archie (he's kinda cute and sexy at the same time and I flip when he sings). Kurt and his bitchy little ways. Mr Shue and his passion for Glee Club. SUE SYLVESTER and her one liners ("You're on the Sue Slyvester Express and the destination is HORROR"). The sexual tension between Finn and Rachel. Puck when he's being sweet (hate the sexy try hard Puck persona). Quinn when she's being nice. And, oh.....EVERY SINGLE SONG AND DANCE ROUTINE (well, bar a few. Loathed Quinn's 'Keep Me Hangin' On', not a huge fan of 'True Colours' and thought the sectionals performance was nothing special compared to 'Keep Holding On' and 'Somebody To Love').

Most of all, I love that Glee reminds me of being in high school. I was one of those geeky music kids. I did the school production every year and it was my passion. I sang in the Soul Band (okay, okay, sometimes I was forced to mime, the high notes aren't my forte). I experienced the highs of performance, the ridicule of my peers and the amazing dedication of staff. And yes - I experineced the cat fights, hysterics, love triangles and other teenage melodramas associated with production and band. Wouldn't change any of that for the world - my best memories of high school are centred around those 'geeky' co-curricular activities.

So there's only one thing left to add - what am I supposed to do now that Glee doesn't return until April? GAH!!!!

Birthing Cate - Meeting Our Girl

No 'short and simple' blog could ever contain the magnificence of birthing my daughter. It just won't do it justice at all.

I have written out my birth story a number of times for a number of different auidences. I could talk about giving birth for hours and hours. Well, at least I think I could still do this. I dunno - it all feels like it happened a very long time ago! The details are getting hazy and fuzzy...then the next second everything is crystal clear. It comes and goes. One thing that's faded is the pain sensation. Yes, I know it hurt A LOT, worse than anything I have ever been through BUT it was worth it. A thousand times over.

I'm really going to attempt to keep this short.

I had a GREAT birthing experince. My body did amazing things.

I lost my plug at 10.15am, my waters broke at 12.15pm and labour was established with regular, painful contractions by 7pm that night. I laboured at home with my husband and my sister acting as support people and, apart from some 'freak-out' tears when my waters broke (I couldn't believe this was it!) I generally felt excited, confident, calm and in control.

Once labour was established I got through contractions with breathing, then moaning, then large, cow-having-an-organsm like noises. This was all instinctual behaviour and it worked! The noises definitely helped me stay focused and helped me work through the pain. I also became permanently attached to my hot water bottle and eventually moved to having two - one for my back and one for my front. I rocked, knelt head down bum up, walked, leant over the bench and table and leant into Justin and Kat.

It did get bad. It got to the point where I felt like I WAS pain, there wasn't room left for anything else. I got irritable and a bit frantic and I wanted to go to hospital. NOW please.

The drive (20 mins) was horrific. Contractions were every three minutes, lasting for a minute. So a minute of hell then two minutes to rest and gear up for more hell. I HATED being still and started thrasing about in the front seat. I was slapping my leg hard at one point to move through the pain. I had to keep my eyes shut and had to work hard to control my breathing - the second I stop focusing on the breathing, I started freaking out and the pain became overwhelming. All the pressue was in my backside and I desperately wanted the toilet. Little did I know that was my baby's head!

I gave birth in a small, country hospital attended by two midwives, my husband and my sister. We arrived at hospital at about 12.30am and went straight to the birthing suite - I now sounded like a dying cow so they knew it was nearly time! An interal revealed I was....10cm dilated!!! I burst into tears - we'd done the hard yards! It was nearly time!

I knelt on the floor on all fours with Justin next to me. I was screaming through each contraction - I couldn't move through the pain. Thank God Justin helped me. He told me to stop. Just stop. "Babe, you have to stop screaming and you have to push. Chin to your chest and PUSH". So I did. And it HURT. And I still screamed - after the push anyways! But..it worked. After twelve minutes of pushing, my baby shot out in one huge push, head, shoulders, body...she flew out so fast the midwife nearly dropped her!

Justin and I didn't know the sex of our baby and I was convinced I was having a boy. Imagine my delight when Justin said "It's a girl Babe". I said "No, it isn't" and he said "have a look". I reached down between my legs and pulled my baby towards me - my beautiful, pink and bloody baby girl.

Hello Catherine Anne. Hello my darling Cate.

My heart was full.

Holding her, knowing her...this secret girl who'd been with me all those months. The smell of her skin, her warmth, her mewing little noises and loud screams. Her weight in my arms. The love that lit up the room. The delight, the tears the reward after the hard work. If I could choose a moment in my life to return to, to watch again, it would be this one.

If only I had have known the utter delight that lay ahead. Yes, it's ben hard and tough and challenging and I've had off days and I've gotten cross and grumpy and sooky.

But...oh, this girl, this girl.

Daily I look at her and my heart swells. Didn't know it could be this good.

Love you Catie Coo xxx

Waiting for Cate - Brewing a Bump

So I was pregnant. It was bliss. After all that time...here it was.

Being pregnant means you get to tell people. Some of my favourite memories were telling Justin, my folks and my siblings. Everyone we told was delighted for us - my stong, self-controlled sister burst into tears of joy. We told our best mates because I stopped drinking and it was just too obvious - they all knew we were TTC and, rather than have them piece it together, we wanted the thrill of sharing. So our three sets of best mates all knew within the week. We knew that being pregnant didn't necessarily equal a baby but, I also knew, that if I couldn't hold on to this precious babe, I would need my friends and family to support me. So between five weeks (when we found out) and thirteen weeks we slowly shared our news with selected family, work mates and friends. When I hit 13 weeks and was still pregnant, the world was informed! It finally felt real.

Being pregnant means you get tired. Oh man, did I get tired. I spent about a quarter of the first trimester awake and the rest of it asleep - often in awkward places. Justin would pick me up from work and I'd be asleep in the car within a minute. I was tucking myself into bed at 5pm and not waking til 6am. If I was expected out and about I would be feral and Justin suffered many a tantrum. I think we both felt a hell of a lot better once my energy returned at about 14 weeks.

Being pregnant means you get scans. There was a bit of confusion with ours and I ended up going back to the fertility specialist at 14 weeks for our first scan. Crammed into the tiny scan room, legs akimbo, probe dancing towards me...and finally we saw a glimpse of Baby Mahony. I lied above - THIS was the moment it all felt real. On out third wedding anniversary we saw our baby for the first time - no better gift on earth.

Being pregnant means you get a bump. Eventually. Oh man, I couldn't WAIT to show! And it took aaaaaaaaages. I didn't have a bump until I was 19 weeks and even then it still looked suspiciously like fat rolls. By 25 weeks I had a gorgeous bump of which I was so proud. I adored getting HUGE, loved waddling, loved every kick and squiggle and squirm. Speaking of which - I didn't feel Cate until the end of my 20th week. I woke up and was lying still and bam! She did a big sommersault. Hello baby! I quickly told Jus and he placed his head on my tum...and less than a minute later, another sommersault! Justin felt our baby at almost the same moment I did! Oh the magnificence!

Being pregnant means you pee. A lot. I didn't get sick and, after the first trimester, I wasn't so tired. But, oh Lordy, did I pee. I was unstoppable in the first trimester as hormones raged inside me and, by the time I hit the final trimester, my bubba's head was firmly jammed on my pelvis. I had to go to the loo every 45 mins to an hour, 24 hours hours a day. I actually started getting MORE sleep once Cate arrived as I no longer had to get up every hour in the night, it was back to three hours for feeds - a blessed relief.

Being pregnant - well it was one of the best times of my life. I felt happy, healthy, beautiful, excited and the world seemed to be brimming with anticipation. Sure there were moments of grumpiness, hysterics, fear, trepidation, discomfort and even pain - but they paled in comparison when it came to the relief, the blessed, joyous relief that I was finally pregnant. And, as my pregnancy progressed, the realisation that, finally, we were going to have a baby.

Creating Cate - The Early Days

So it's Friday night, Justin is out celebrating his very nearly completed fire fighter's course and Cate is soundly sleeping. I have spent the afternoon at my folks' house (again, are we noticing a pattern here?!) and I'm feeling all loved up and excited about my baby girl. She's so delightful! Such a little madam, an entertainer, a drama queen. And that giggle - oooooooo, to die for. So, in the vein of being madly in love with my daughter tonight, I thought I'd tell you a bit more about how she came to be.

(It's a long story. You've been warned!)

(Because it's such a long story I am breaking it into parts. This is the part that gives you the background to our infertility. I'll be back with the actual 'creating Cate' part some other time...)

When I was 21 I was diagnosed with a tumour on my left ovary. When they opened me up to remove it, they also noted that my right ovary (and what was left of my left ovary after surgery) were polycystic. So, although I woke up to the fantastic news that they tumour was benign, I also woke up to the news that, when I wanted to have a baby, it might be tricker than expected.

Seven months later, I fell in love. He was The One. I was engaged at 23 and married at 25. Six months after our wedding, we decided it was time to start our family. Let the fun begin.

And, sure, it was fun...for about three minutes. I could never really get into the 'fun' of the TTC game when, from the get-go, I knew it wasn't going to come easy. I played the 'we could fall pregnant coming straight off the pill' game and realised what a crock of shit that was. I played the 'we'll take every vitamin known to man' game, with a bit of 'I'll drink green tea and pink grapefruit juice like it's enjoyable' on the side and felt they fell into the crock of shit category too. I hunted for EWCM, I peed on little sticks that never got darker than the control line and I got completely jack of the whole process very quickly.

After six months with no success (hell, NO PERIOD YET) I went back to my gynecologist (the one who had originally diagnosed the tumour) for some answers. She told me she suspected I had PCOS and that I would need to take a further six months to lose weight to see if this would encourage the return of my period. I was horrified. Firstly because I couldn't believe we had another six months dragging out in front of us and, secondly, because whilst I was chubby, I wasn't overweight.

But I'm a good girl who does what she's told til the end...

So, lose weight I did. I cut the crap, ate shed loads of fruit and vegies, actually purchased and used an exercise bike. It sucked - but, hell, did I have motivation or what?! Lose weight and you could have a kid!!! I must admit I liked being slimmer than I had been in years and I enjoyed the compliments and the new wardrobe. But...what I wanted more than anything was my baby.

Four months later, it's back to the gynecologist with my gold-star-girl attitude: 'I did what I was told and I lost weight'. Still no period and very ready for some answers. Finally - a referal to a Fertility Specialist. Halleluia! Down the hall we trundle to make an appointment, we ask for the next availble slot and...

...we're told it's a FOUR MONTH WAIT. Well, I am not too proud to admit that as soon as we left the building I burst into tears and sobbed all the way back to the car and then all the way home (we lived an hour away) and then for the rest of the afternoon. MORE WAITING. No period, definitely no baby and MORE WAITING. It was a cruel blow.

To help the time pass I accepted a promotion at work and I went back to study part time (moron!). I guess it kept me distracted. But it never, ever took away the aching, gnawing need for my baby.

We're now at Feb 2007. Been married for nearly two years, and it's been 18 months of waiting for our baby. I did get my period after an eleven month absence (I am never going on the pill again in my life) so that was a positive to add to the very short list. We finally met with our fertility specialist, liked her no-nonsense attitude and it felt like we were getting somehwere. Hurrah!

Justin's sperm was analysed. I was sent for ultrasounds. We started clomid which meant internal ultrasounds twice a month. The bills started rolling in, stakes rose, emotions ran high. And still...no baby. My brother and his girlfriend announced a surprise pregnancy which nearly ripped out my heart (oh the excruciating agony of being delighted, genuinely delighted for somebody I love so much coupled with searing, crippling jealousy and self pity). I had this horrible procedure done where they flushed dye through my tubes (okay-ish) and then dug out a chunk of my uterus for analysing (definitely NOT okay-sih. Revolting. Agonising. Oh, and extremely freaking expensive). I stayed on the clomid and started injections to induce ovulation. And still...no baby. But worse was yet to come.

In July 2007 my husband of two years was deployed overseas as an army reservist. The betrayal I felt at this time was horrific. He left me at this horrid time, this baby-making time. He left me, home alone, for six months.

I honestly can't write any more about that. It was a shockingly difficult time for both of us and it nearly destroyed our marriage.

Surely this story gets better soon right?

Yup.

Because, when Justin had been home for just over a month and I had taken my first course of clomid in over six months...we conceived.

It sounds ridiculous to suggest it was a shock to fall pregnant but it really was. My husband and I had been through such a hard time since his return that we had decided to put off the baby-making. I went for a scan to check my folicles purely just to see how I was doing. When the specialist told us we'd grown a beauty, it gave us hope. When I ovulated a few days later without a drug induction, it gave us further hope. But we were used to disappointment and long odds so there were no expectations.

When I finally took that test, whilst I waited for the result I turned it over in defeat. I sat still, formulating the next plan of attack for the fertility / conception path in my head. I turned the test over almost as an after thought before tossing it into the bin...

...and caught a glimpse of that perfect sight...

...two pink lines.

We had created Cate.

(To be contined.)

I Heart Granny & Gramps

I spent today with Cate and my folks. It was grand :D

I am adoring watching my parents being grandparents. They are so good at it. And they so obviously LOVE it. Case in point: today mum and I took Cate to work on some of mum's Christmas shopping (mine's done, narny nar nar nar!). At one point mum had Cate in the shopping trolley and was flinging her about, rushing up and down aisles whilst making these great booming pirate cackles that Cate was mimicking for all she was worth. They were having the BEST time, my mum was acting like a loon in public and Cate thought it was delightful.

So did I :)

My siblings and I are struggling to cope with the fact that our strict, no-nonsense parents are big smooshy lumps of love and happiness when it comes to their grandkids. It's hot? Dad rushes out to buy a paddling pool. The grandbabies love trampolines? Dad rushes out to buy the largest trampoline I have ever seen. Cate's gone to bed and she's crying in the cot? My father is the one rushing up the hall to comfort her (my siblings and I were all brought up via the controlled crying method). Cate won't eat her savoury dinner? Mum's rushing to open the custard and scrambling for a sweet biscuit. Cate's bored and being a little minx? Mum to the rescue with a special cupboard of toys *just* for her grandbabies.

My parents routinely spend whole days with their grandchildren where they do nothing for themselves all day. My nephew is two and he spends his Granny and Gramps day in heaven: he plays in the shed with Gramps, he goes for walks with Granny and a million other fun activities in between. The night before Granny and Gramps day, Matty packs his bag and puts it near the front door - he gets THAT excited about his grandparents.

Cate has spent heaps of time with my folks since day dot. My parents rushed to the delivery suite at 3.00am the night Cate was born - they were holding her before she was 2 hours old. She now reaches out to Granny when she sees her, cracks up laughing at Gramps smooshy kisses and spends her time with them delighting in the fact that she's the centre of their universe (oh, she's an attention hog this bubba of mine).

Mum told me today that, when you have a baby, someone should tell you how wonderful being a grandparent is and, that in roughly 25 - 30 years, you'll be one. She said it's the best thing that's ever happened to her...and I know my dad feels the same.

How lucky am I? More to the point, how lucky is my daughter?

PS Up top is my dad with Cate having a ball, my mum reading two of her grandchildren (including Cate) a story and, finally, Mum and Dad meeting Cate for the first time - bliss.

Muffin Morning

So here's the thing - I'm a crappy cook. I don't like it and I'm not good at it. I get by but am definitely nothing special...which is why I married a man who is pretty damn fine in the kitchen. Smart move!

I do, however, like to cook for my little girl if the recipe is simple, healthy and something I know she will eat. She doesn't eat much solid food and, at the moment, she won't eat anything she can't feed herself. Yesterday whilst shopping I saw an expensive kids' food cookbook, flicked through it and saw recipes for many different types of muffins. I put the expensive book back down and thought to myself "I bet I can find a muffin recipe on the net". Thirty seconds of search work this morning and voila - muffin recipe ready to roll.

I figure that muffins are like pancakes. Cate LOVES pancakes and I put pretty much anything in them. I can now make them in five minutes start to finish without a recipe and they turn out fine (trust me, this is a HUGE leap forward!). I figure if I can perfect a muffin recipe I can pretty much add anything to them and hopefully create a whole new type of food that Cate is happy to munch on.

So - basic muffin recipe:


1 3/4 cup self raising flour
Sprinkle of baking powder
1 egg beaten
3/4 cup milk
90 gr butter melted

Place dry ingredients in a mixing bowl. Mix wet ingredients. Fold wet ingredients into dry ingredients, don't go too crazy on the mixing, keep it gentle. Spoon into muffin trays, bake for 15 - 20 mins at 200 degrees until lightly browned on top. Remove and cool.

Today I made Spinach and Feta muffins. I used frozen spinach and onion and chopped up feta and added these to the flour / baking powder before the folding bizzo. I also made Strawberry muffins. I added caster sugar and vanilla essence (guesstimates) and chopped strawberries.

Good news? I didn't burn them, they were super easy and they looked pretty good. Better news? This recipe made about forty little bubby sized muffins that are perfect for freezing. Best, best, best news? Cate LOVED them. SCORE! Another food my baby girl will happily munch on = happy Mummy.

Finished...and excited!

Well today I finished off the last of the Christmas shopping *big round of applause*. Whoot!

Justin has to buy one gift - his KK present for my dad and, as a couple, we have decided to buy ourselves new, white crockery in the post-Christmas sales as our Christmas gift to each other. So, technically, there's two gifts left to buy, but for now at least, I'm done, I'm done, I'm done!! I have even bought the food contribution for my family Christmas (I was in charge of providing the turkey this year and it is already stashed in my folks' freezer. Organised or what?!).

I have taken immense pleasure in buying Cate's Christmas presents this year. She is receiving the following on Christmas morning:

* Her new Fisher Price swing (which will last until she's three)
* A ball
* A tub of clipex blocks
* A DVD of 'In The Night Garden'
* A board book copy of Where Is The Green Sheep?, her favourite book EVER (I can't wait for her to have a copy she can maul as much as she wants so that her precious hardbacked copy can be put to rest before it's destroyed!)
* Her clam shaped paddling pool (a bit of re-gifting there seeing as I have already cracked it out!).

We spent roughly $120 on our 14 month old so, even though I could think of fifty other gifts for her, I think we are done. She won't even know what to do with the blocks, ball or DVD, I am just waiting for the thrill of watching her tear off the wrapping with glee. I'm happy with her gifts, their simplicity and the cost involved - I don't want to be going too crazy, too soon. Before we know it, Christmas will be costing us a fortune so I am enjoying savouring this time when Cate doesn't mind what she receives...she just loves tearing wrapping paper to bits more than anything!

Next year Christmas will be even better...she will have a stocking and we will definitely have a tree at our place, not just at Granny and Gramps' house. More importantly, next year she'll have much more of an idea about Christmas, Baby Jesus and Santa. And the year after that, she'll be three and that's when the magic of Christmas will really begin...the excitement, the joy, that excruciating sleep on Christmas Eve...I can hardly wait.

Crying It Out

Back to a post on sleeping. Sorry, I know it's obsessive. But you try sleep deprivation for a few months and you'll become obsessed too!

Those of you have been reading know that we recently changed sleep habits in this house condsiderably. We used 'Save Our Sleep' by Tizzie Hall (SOS) after a three week trial of first controlled crying (CC) as recommended in 'Babylove' by Robin Barker (my bible!)then some of the ideas and concepts from the 'No Cry Sleep Solution' (NCSS) which were suggested to me by on-line friends. With nothing working and things getting even worse, it was time for something different, hence the trial of SOS which I had previously been against. Why was I against it? I had heard it was very regimented and highly routine based and I thought that wasn't for me as I like to go with the flow when it comes to Cate.

Anyways the SOS method involves the using of 'crying it out' (CIO). You put to bed the same way every night (same bed time routine and cue phrases and environment) at the same time (7pm sharp) and you let baby cry it out until they sleep. When you first start, bubs can cry for up to two and half hours. The theory is that you do not go in to them - you leave them to cry it out and fall asleep (as long as they are 'protest crying' as opposed to 'emotional crying' which needs to be responded to immediately. Oh God, this is all sounding very complicated but truly, it's not. Just buy or borrow the book and have a read!).

Anyways, long story short, with some adaptions to suit us, SOS has saved our lives. We now have a baby who, USUALLY, goes to sleep at 7pm without a peep, self settles when she wakes in the night and sleeps through until at least 5.30am (if not 6, 6.30 or 7am).

To get to this point though, I had to learn to let Cate cry it out. And, holy moley, the amount of stuff you can dredge up on the internet about crying it out / controlled crying is quite terrifying. People either seem to be passionately FOR CIO or passionately AGAINST it.

My take on it is this: it worked for US. I was happy with the decision to let Cate cry it out and it didn't take her long to learn how to put herself to sleep very quickly without the crying. Yes, it sucked and was really, really hard for at least three days...but I had a very supportive hubby who was much stronger about it all than me and I got sent into the back yard to enjoy a glass of wine out of ear shot while he stayed inside to make sure she was okay....crying, but okay. Couldn't have done it without that kind of support.

Last night I struggled to get to sleep myself. I was tired, but couldn't get to sleep. My mind was ticking at a million miles an hour, I had jumpy legs, I couldn't decide if I was hot or cold and I was getting very fed up. Then it occurred to me: this is what happens to babies. And because my baby can't talk yet, I imagine she expresses her frustration through crying. And I know myself that crying is exhausting and it knackers you out, hence why she eventually falls asleep after a good cry.

To get to sleep last night I had to read my book for a little bit longer. This is why Cate goes to bed with a book and an assortment of soft toys - some nights she plays and talks to herself for up to 45 minutes before falling asleep. I sneak in before I go to bed and remove everything from the cot and some nights the toys are spread everywhere and the book has been flung to the side - these nights I assume Cate needed some play time before sleep time.

So when I was desperately sleep deprived I resorted to crying it out - a method I never thought I would use and a method I am extremely glad I tried. Sure, a bit of heart ache. But with a supportive husband and the sensibility to change the routines and ideas suggested by the book to suit US - crying it out worked beautifully. Best bit - most days, I'm not so sleep deprived after all. Even better bit - my baby no longer has dark bags under her eyes and she's a much happier girl in general now that she's getting some sleep.

Amen to that!

Paddling Pool Etiquette

Yesterday at 4pm Cate was feral and I was flat out of ideas to keep her entertained for the hour before dinner time. So I improvised...and busted out one of her Christmas presents just that little bit early. That's right, yesterday Cate received her brand spanking new paddling clam-shaped pool.

Do I care that it made an early appearance? Nope. Cate was happily entertained climbing in and out of her clam pool for nearly an hour (then she threw a chunk of dirt from a nearby pot plant into the water and that signaled the end of pool time).

So when I spoke on the phone to one of the mummy friends from Mothers' group last night, I told her how great it had worked as a distraction and, considering it was set to be 31 degrees here today, I invited Kelly and her bubba Hayley over for a paddle this afternoon.

Paddling pool set up with both sides full of water: check.
Water warmed slightly as it was hardly 31 degrees as promised: check.
Two little girls in swimming nappies and togs: check
Deck chairs set up next to pool for mummies to recline upon: check
A plethora of brightly coloured plastic bath toys on hand for entertainment: check.

Sounds great right?

Well, what actually eventuated was that the moment Cate hit the water, she started drinking it like she had been trapped in a desert for a month. First she starts tipping buckets of water into her mouth, then she chucks the bucket to one side and just plants her whole face in the water, still guzzling. Oooooooo - kay. Weird behaviour from my kid, but we moved past that and started enjoying paddling time...

...until five minutes later when Cate vomited up all of said water, plus half of her afternoon nap bottle.

Great. Just freaking great.

So, from this point on, Hayley was designated non-spewy side of the clam and Cate just had to paddle in her vomity water. Yummy. Except Cate and Hayley both had different ideas - Hayley was over the whole idea of the paddling pool and Cate wanted out of her vommy side and into the clean side thank you very much. All good, except that once Cate had happily repositioned herself, you guessed it, she started drinking the water like a thirsty mad woman AND, five minutes later, vommy number two. In the previously clean side of the clam pool.

At this point, although Cate was quite content splashing around in her own vomit, Kelly and I decided it was time to pull the plug. I don't think paddling pool etiqette allows the continuation of paddling after the water has been well and truly contaminated with toddler vom.

So, note to self: do not allow frantic drinking of paddling pool water by darling daughter...especially when sharing her toddler pool with others!!! Thank God both Kelly and Hayley have thick skins!

PS No piccies. The whole vommy in the pool thing happened far too quickly to allow for photo taking opportunities!

What do you DO all day?

I just read a blog detailing what a particular stay at home mum does with her time. It made me feel a bit guilty to be honest. Because...she DUSTS! And reads EIGHT stories a day! And cooks nutritious meals every day for her toddler from scratch. And she has a little bubba as well.

Holy cow.

So here's how a typical "stay at home" day goes for me (and I use the term loosely because I rarely stay at home for the whole day).

I wake up when Cate wakes up. On a ripper day, this is at 7am or later. Most days it's somewhere closer to 6am. We 'snuggle' in my bed for a while (except there's not much snuggling...there's lots more 'crawling over mum whilst she tries to desperately grab a few extra moments of sleep'. Oh and there's 'playing with the portable phone' which Justin says is bad and some mornings there's even 'smashing the alarm clock into Mum's face or into the wall'. Yup, you read that right).

After 'snuggle' time, it's 'getting up and getting organised' time. This involves changing Cate's drenched night nappy, tidying Cate's room, tidying my room, putting the first load of washing on and hand washing the bottles. I always feel better once these things are done as the house usually looks semi-normal by this stage. Cate reaquaints herself with her toys, books and walker during this time...she also pulls out drawers, players with the knob on the dryer and usually does her first poo of the day.

Then I have internet time and Cate joins me...usually the only time of day she will play happily with the upstairs toys whilst I get net time. Today I let her climb up and down the stairs whilst I checked facebook. This is latest skill and she's getting very good at it, but I'm not sure it's the type of skill I'll be bragging about at Mother's Group any time soon ("Guess what? My 14 month old can climb the stairs ALL BY HERSELF! Hold the calls to Child Protection Services please!").

Breakfast time for us both, Cate eats toast solo these days which is a welcome relief as me feeding her Weetbix used to take half an hour. After breakfast I put on washing load number two, take out the rubbish, run the dishwasher and try to ignore the floors (on the days I can no longer ignore the floors, I sweep and vaccum. Actual washing of the kitchen floor takes place once every two months maybe, if the floor is lucky).

Then we play. I get down on the floor with Cate and we read and play with some toys, tickle and cuddle and even play chasey some days. My latest trick has been whizzy dizzies to the Glee soundtrack followed by wild dancing from mother and daughter (this morning, the dancing got too wild and Cate threw up. Note to self: go easy of the whizzy dizzies after the morning bottle. Der). This play time lasts for maybe ten mins tops. I know. See why I was feeling so slack as compared with super mum mentioned above?

We hang the washing out and Cate explores the garden. Then it's time for the one TV show I think it okay...In The Night Garden. Cate watches for maybe five minutes on a good day...then she scrambles around the floor with the walker whilst I spend my time screaming out things like "Look at the Tombliboos!". I am quickly developing a freaky amount of love for those crazy little Tombliboos and my hatred of the Pontypines os becoming overwhleming. I need to stop, turn off the TV and back away.

Nap time is at 9.30am sharp. Ha, poor sucker I'm only up to describing the first 3.5hours of my day!!!!

On a good day Cate sleeps for two hours. I shower BY MYSELF (amazing!), dress, surf the net, read, make phone calls and, when I am having people over (and ONLY then), I may quickly wipe the bathrooms and clean the toilets. I used to be anal about the state of my house, now I am very much in the "close enough is good enough camp". So sue me!

On a bad day, Cate won't nap at all. I then have to share my shower and usually, all I feel like doing is napping myself (which I will do if I have had a bad night with Cate and she's napping herself. May as well suck it up as I don't think it will be happening if we manage to produce baby number two!).

After nap time is when we usually have our adventure. Cate and I leave the house pretty much every single day. I go crazy if I am at home with her, inside, all day. So we go to my mum's, my sister's, mother's group, my girlfriend's or we just go for a walk, to the park or off to do the food shopping. Outside is Cate's favourite place right now but I struggle (read as "can't be bothered fighting anymore") to get her to wear a hat so it's got to be shaded space. This cuts out a lot of places!

By 5pm we're usually back home and it's the dinner time dance. Cate has been off her food lately so this can be a struggle. Most days I end up giving her a selection of things to try for herself which makes an unholy mess...but at least she eats something this way.

Then it's bath and bed. I could stretch this sucker out for longer but I'm done! (and I haven't even mentioned taking the washing off the line, folding it and putting it away, nor have I gone anywhere near cooking dinner or socialising with my hubby once he walks in exhausted from his day).

I don't do too badly I know that. But I am not Cate's ultimate slave either...she fits in with ME and what I am doing (most of the time). Yes, I have to make concessions for her and yes, I do spend some time specifically 'teaching' her... but most days, we just get by living life. Not a perfect mother then...but a happy mum for sure. And you know what? I've got happy girl to prove that I'm not doing so badly...dirty floor and all ;)

And May They Live Happily Ever After...

We have just returned from the Wedding of the Year *sighs happily*. Wonderul, wonderful!

My good friend Brent married his lovely bride Harley under a stunning tree in the grounds of a winery in country Victoria. The sun was shining, there was a gorgeous breeze and the bride and groom both looked absolutely beautiful. There were tears, laughter (and so many freaking flies it wasn't funny)...best bit of all was the wonderful celebating and catching up we were able to do with a very beloved circle of friends.

So we talked, drank, danced and partied until the wee small hours. Justin and I left the after party at about 1am and wandered back to the oh-so-sexy Milawa caravan park, me with my shoes in hand as my feet couldn't take any more. We tucked ourselves up under sleeping bags and fell asleep to the sound of rain pounding on the tin cabin roof (the rain arrived almost as soon as we were tucked up in bed - timing!). Pretty awesome way to finish off an unbelievably good night.

The best bit though was coming home to our gorgeous Bean. She had stayed with our besties and they had done a wonderful job of looking after her. Cate slept like a champion, ate like a trooper and, from all reports, was happy as a clam without us. Made me feel very happy that we had left her with the right people! (Of course, as soon as I showed up, Miss Cate became clingy and sooky and has been that way all afternoon. I wonder if the Hobbs' would mind if we dropped her back to their place for the night?!).

Congratulations to our beautiful friends Brent and Harley and thank you for throwing such a great party to celebrate your getting hitched. May you live happily ever after!

PS That's the bride and groom up top (der) and a pic of me with hy usually goegous hubby. Please excuse that hideous thing on his face...thank God MOvember is nearly over!!!

I think I can, I think I can...

Okay I just got creeped out by my Little Bean. I actually thought she was walking up behind me and it's kinda freaked me out (she's a crawler. Dedicated crawler, but a crawler all the same). Anyways, she wasn't stalking up behind me on her feet, but she was stalking up behind me on her knees. Clever little minxy.

The last two days have seen Cate become completely addicted to her walker (a crappo cheapy one from Coles that's doing the job beautifully I might say). As in, she wakes up in the morning, squawks for it and hardly lets it out of her sight for the rest of the day. A big time love affair with the walker. It is a cute as hell watching her stomp around the place and this has got me thinking that it won't be long until she actually does it for real...sans walker and all.

Go, go, go Catie girl!!!!

Romance

So tonight we had some romance *happy sigh*. Just like I missed sleep, it would appear I missed romance too!

Over the last few months I have been proof reading a good friend's thesis. As a thank you he gave me a fair amount of cash to be spent explicitly on romantic dinners with my hubby. This is the first weekend in forever we've had the whole weekend to ourselves and this morning I decided tonight was the night. A quick call to our friends down the road who agreed to host our sleeping bub, a reservation at our favourite local restaurant and we were ready to go.

Cate went down without a peep at our mates' house and we walked to the restaurant from their house (yup, we live in a small town - it has its perks!). And it just 'worked' for us tonight. We had heaps of things to discuss. We were tripping over ourselves to share stories which was fantastic - there was so much to say. We spent a large amount of time discussing what our yet-to-be-conceived baby will be named (*blushes*) and we caught up on what each other had been doing during the last few weeks. But best of all was the conversation I shared with my husband about what happened today.

Today Cate said her very first word IN CONTEXT. Not just babble, not a random 'mumma' whilst pointing at the grass but an actual real word. Any guesses?

She looked at her daddy, pointed and said 'Dadda'. (cue AWWWWWWWWWWWWs right about now).

Listening to Justin recall this incredible event with tears in his eyes almost brought me to my knees. It would appear my husband thinks being a father is the very best thing that has ever happened to him.

So we toasted each other with some very nice wine, enjoyed a delicious meal and wandered back holding hands in the rainy dark to collect our soundly sleeping baby.

Definitely a romantic evening tonight.

Dirty Looks

So here's some news.

We want to have another baby. And not just in the 'we're thinking about another baby in the future' kinda way but rather in the 'we're actually going to try and have this baby sooner rather than later' kinda way. Very exciting, a little bit scary and, of course because this is us, a little bit frustrating too.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we were one of those couples who says 'hey we want to have another baby' and BAM! Pregnant. That seems like science fiction to me. I would have loved to have been one of those women who was soooo fertile after having baby number one, that baby number two cropped up as an unexpected surprise. Alas, this was not meant to be.

So I weaned Cate at 8 months, waited ten weeks for my period to return and have had two rather good cycles since then (at 38 and 36 days respectively). I've had a smear test and a general health check up and three appointments back with our fertility specialist. Good news is she's really positive we can fall pregnant without the fuss it took to get pregnant with Cate. We so desperately hope this is true. But having been where we've been in the past, we're not betting on it...just in case.

So I'm sparing you the nitty gritty details that involve me getting intimate with 'the probe' in Dr Kate's office and parting with lots of good money to do so. But what I will tell you is that as I waited for my 7.40am appointment this morning I received a lot of dirty looks.

Here's why. I was in a fertility specialist's waiting room crammed with couples and I was there with....my darling daughter. And she was being unbelievably cute. And, having been one of 'those' couples sitting on those couches, I know how much it can hurt to have what you so desperately want sitting right there in front of you. Hence the dirty looks.

The thing is, having been there done that, I can honestly say I never threw a dirty look at a couple with a child. Swear it. I had my share of tantrums and break downs and there were many tears but throwing a dirty look at a beautiful baby? Nope.

Perhaps I'm over-analysing though...perhaps they were just upset my child was rubbing raspberry and white chocolate muffin into the carpet?! (I know, I know Mother of the Year here we come. This is verses Mother Who Wants Peace At Any Price).

So dirty looks aside (and trust me, I send those couples my prayers that they get their dream sooner rather than later), here we go on the Journey to Number Two. May it be short and successful. That's the prayer I'm sending up for us.

Got to admit it's getting better...

So over the last two weeks sleep has started featuring in our lives again. Thank God. We missed you sleep!!!

Yes it would appear that Catherine Anne has finally learnt to self settle (to an extent) and the horrific all night tossing / turning / crying / shhhhing / patting marathons have fortunately become a thing of the past (I dread writing this. It will be just my luck that as soon as I crow about it, she'll regress. God help me).

During the bad patch I tried lots of different ways to get Cate to sleep. Top three favourites were 1) Giving her a bottle 2) Giving her a dummy and 3) Putting her in bed with us. The problem was that slowly each method stopped working. Plus, the books said those things were bad, bad, bad.

I read a few different books, talked to lots of different mums and researched on the net. All about sleep. Yup, I was obsessed. In the end, the book that started making the most sense to me was 'Save Our Sleep' by Tizzie Hall. I'd held out for a long time when it came to this book - it just didn't sound like it was for me. Three weeks of next to no sleep and I'm desperate enough to try anything.

So this is how bedtime works for us now. Cate goes down to sleep for the night at 7pm. She has the same story in her cot every night and we use the same sleep cue sentences every night too. We still give her a bottle in her cot - against the advice of...well...just about every book I've ever come across - and nine times out of ten, she goes to sleep without a peep. Most nights she wakes at least once, if not twice at some stage. Now I let her cry it out. Again, most night this takes her under five minutes before she is sound asleep again. Progress.

Most mornings she wakes at 5am-ish and I give her another bottle in bed. This usually means she sleeps til 7, 7.30, 8 or even 9am. SWEEEET. This morning she slept right through the 5am wake up call and din't call out for a bottle until 7am. So she slept right through from 10pm - 7am no wake ups at all. This is one happy mummy.

I'm not so good at sticking to the routines suggest by Tizzie Hall - my times get thrown out every day. But I am sticking to the 7pm bedtime as much as possible and I am sticking to the 'cry it out at night' theory and both are working for us right now. And that, my friends, is a little piece of heaven right there!

Bad Night

So today's post is a follow on from last night's post. And although last night wasn't 'bad' in terms of the really, really, REALLY bad nights I was experiencing a few weeks ago with my little darling, it was bad enough.

I guess it started at 7pm. Cate went down without a peep (bless) and I proceeded to do a happy dance celebrating the fact that I could finally have five minutes to myself. Any mum knows what I mean - night time bedtime = mummy's down time. If she's lucky! Anyways even though I am sleep deprived, no, I did not rush immediately to bed because I wanted to enjoy said down time. Instead I spent the next three hours dicking around on the net. Productive I know.

Finally head to bed at 10pm. Settle down with my semi-decent book (have been struggling to find decent reading material lately) and enjoy a lovely hour long, uninterupted read. Bliss. Cate slept soundly next door, Justin huffed and snuffled next to me but life was pretty good.

I switch off the light at 11pm and, despite the snores, snuffles and phlem-y noises being emitted from the husband laying next to me, I managed to drift off fairly quickly into a deep sleep.

I know, this all sounds rather excellent so far.

11.14pm: Cate wakes. Lie still for five mins willing her back to sleep. Five minutes is a long time when you're trying to sleep and your baby is crying!

11.19pm: Get up to Cate. She is very sooky. Won't even take a bottle (shock horror!) and rejects the dummy (no surprises there). Looks like it's the old 'take her out of the cot for cuddles time' routine. I sit on the couch in the dark patting and shhhh-ing until she falls back asleep. I know this is a bitching post but it was actually kinda nice.

11.43pm: Back into bed. Husband's snotty snores are packing a punch. Very difficult to recapture blissful beautiful sleep of only a few minutes ago...

12.23am: Cate wakes. WTF?! This never happens. Leave her to cry...

12.28am: Still crying. I can feel my cracking it pants coming out...

12.29am: I collect Cate from her cot and do the unthinkable...put her in our bed (this is a habit we have worked very hard to break). The little minx screamed louder!!! Grrrrrrr. Husband is now awake (and I'm feeling so spiteful I think 'good') and Cate is howling. I don't know what she wants, I'm tired, cranky and very frustrated. This is not one of my better mummy moments as I yell at Cate, demanding to know what she wants (Nice. All class that one. Yelling at the 13 month old). I end up on the couch, shh-ing and patting again. Then into the cot for more of the same.

1.13am: I crawl back into bed only to be met by that horrid, gurgling noise that now signals husband is sleeping semi-peacefully. I know I simply cannot get back to sleep listening to this for a third time. I do a wonderful wifely cracking the poo-poos session, fling myself out of the bed, grab my pillows and ajorn to the upstairs matress. I try to slam the stafely gates on my way up to illustrate my upset but alas! Those suckers don't slam. Humph!

Roughly 2.13am (Left the bloody clock downstairs didn't I?): I fall asleep. Thank GOD.

Could have been 6am?: Justin wakes me to say goodbye as he head off to work. I am not in my best 'send hubby off to work' mood. I grunt, roll over and promptly fall back asleep.

6.15am: Cate wakes for the joy. Happy, happy, joy, joy.

6.16am: See her little face. Fall in love again. Try to get over myself. Bring her into my bed for a morning bottle and snuggle routine.

6.40am: Start our day...hoping hubby is far less snotty when he gets home tonight, poor Love. xxx

The Land of Snot and Sniffles

I have again been like a deer in the headlights when it comes to this blog. It's lurking in the back of my mind all week but every time I go to write I freeze...nothing to say, nothing to say!!! But I want to keep at it and I don't want this blog to stall, perhaps if I keep going I'll eventually hit my stride? Here's hoping anyways.

The title of this week's post refers to the fact that Justin, Cate and I all have hayfever right now. Sucks to be a member of this household!

Justin has suffered from hayfever for the last few years, although it tends to come and go. None of the 'going' part this time though. He's snotty, sneezy and has now added coughing to the mix...plus his sinuses are blocked. Oh yeah. It's fun living here right now! He's downing Zertek, making sweet, sweet love to his decongestant nasal spray (not literally peoples!) and we had to make a special trip to the supermarket to buy the extra large boxes of tissues.

Worse is that my beautiful baby has it too :( Boo Hoo! Poor Catie has been struck down by weeping eyes, a wicked case of the snots and also has her daddy's sneezing attacks (which she finds hilarious...although I find it significantly less so seeing as the sneezing means mega snots which usually get wiped across her face and into her hair before I can reach her with a tissue. I'm sure she's going to love this particular story when she's older!).

To combat the hayfever this afternoon Cate and I spent some time playing on the upstairs balcony. No grass! I let her splash around with her beach buckets and some water and her bath toys and she happily entertained herself for nearly an hour. Daddy spent this time sleeping off the snots and sniffles and I spent this time sucking up some of the sun's rays and delighting in my daughter. so I guess this post has a happy ending after all!

Am I ready to laugh about this yet?

Okay, some background (bear with me, I will try to set the scene as quickly as I can).

One of my very close family friends is horse mad and celebrated her 21st last night. All she wanted for her birthday was a rearing unicorn cake. This was because, as a child, she had always wanted said rearing unicorm cake and never received it. Instead, she got a sqaure cake, iced green with a plastic horse jammed on top. Not quite the same.

So for her very special birthday my husband and I set up an elborate gag with her mum, Vicki. We ordered a unicorn cake (sadly not rearing but it would appear this physically cannot be done!) in secret and told her my husband, Justin, would be making her cake. Vicki and I made the 'gag' cake - a sqaure cake, iced green and decorated by Justin with plastic horses on top - haha. The plan was for the green cake to be presented after the speeches then, after the birthday girl registered her disappointment, the real, gorgeous unicorn cake would be carried out.

Still with me?

So last night we were excitedly getting ready for the party. Green gag cake ready to go: check. Stunning unicorn cake delivered by professional cake maker: check. Birthday girl hidden away in her bedroom at her house: check. Justin and I just needed to drive each cake the km up the road to hide them at the birthday girl's house / party venue. We load Cate into the car, Justin sits in the passenger seat with the green cake on his lap, the unicorn cake is waiting on our bench. Off we go.

Five minutes later we return to our house to collect stunning unicorn cake. Except...the front door is open. Uh oh. I didn't give it much thought as I ran inside and sprinted upstairs to fetch something insignificant. Moments later I hear Justin stutter "Jesus Christ". My heart sinks, tummy flips and I race for the stairs...half way down I see it.

Our black lab had entered the house during our five minute absence and had EATEN HALF OF THE FREAKING PERFECT UNICORN CAKE!!!!!!

Cue hysterical hyperventilating topped with a feeling that I was about to vomit and faint at the same time. Mass hysteria. Oh my freaking GOD.

Long story short: we called Vicki down for emergency cake repairs. This involved Justin and Vicki cutting away all the dog spit affected areas, clearing off the black dog hair, stuffing that cake with cheap tea cake and covering the lot with ready to roll white icing. I couldn't look and was hiding with Cate in her bedroom. She was hysterically screaming (could obviously sense my upset) and I wanted to. We made a great pair.

Fortunately, the original gag was carried off wonderfully when the time came. The green gag trick worked its magic and when the slightly mauled unicorn cake was presented the birthday girl screamed with delight. People swore to me you could hardly tell it had been mauled by a dog...I am yet to be convinced.

Many champagnes later though my care factor was considerably less!

Today the birthday girl and her mum came for a visit and a laugh about the whole situation. I'm just not sure if I'm there yet!!!!

That's the birthday girl up the top by the way with her semi-perfect unicorn cake and her gag green cake. If you look closely at the unicorn cake you can see the repair job. Thank God the freaking dog didn't decide to eat the unicorn's face or we would have been screwed!

Hello, is anybody out there?

I have no idea what I am doing here.

Well, I know what I would like to be doing, I have it all mapped out in my head how this is supposed to turn out, but I am still very much finding my way in the world of blogging and remain, largely, clueless as to how this whole blogging thing works.

But I am going to give it a crack anyways. Even though it's not a very pretty blog (don't know how to change that), even though no one will read this (because I can't work out how to share it or direct friends / family to it), even though I have nothing of note to say right now (in fact I have been completely drawing blanks ever since I set this sucker up yesterday. Couldn't think of a thing to write. Nadda. Weird).

See, rambling already. But I did warn you in my blog's very name!

So how did I come across blogs? I belong to an on-line community and lots of women within the community had little 'visit my blog' tags at the bottom of their signatures (another thing I am yet to work out). So I clicked away and found some fantastic stories and some great women and I was hooked - I loved reading about their goings on. Most of all I loved the sense of humour I found in so many blogs.

The other night I found a blog that made me laugh out loud numerous times. It wasn't a pretty sight - there was actually spittle on my computer screen, but man, this woman can write. Definitely inspired me to finally give it a go...so here I am.

So, hi.

Hopefully soon I wil work out more about blogging - am dying to post piccies (that's the next little learning challenge). So until then...

ETA Looky what I worked out!!! Yay! Progress! That's my beautiful little bean / mad little sleep thief ;)