Don't say...Ivy isn't easily pleased.
So far so good.
We are actually surviving very well indeed with a new baby. Today Ivy's 18 days old and doin' just fine.
We talked a lot about whether we'd find it all too tricky andhow would we cope with interrupted sleep after all these years of a full nights' sleep.
I appreciate the fact that the father doesn't engage as fully as the mother (especially at feed time) but I would describe Ivy as an easy baby....if she cries - there's a reason and she's most often easily appeased.
As I said, so far so good.
Leesy says it's as if Ivy's coming out of the 'fog' and starting to show those early signs of recognition...there's a quizical look in her eye that says "I think I know who you are"....or perhaps she's deliberating "Obama or McCain ?".
Don't say...you ever forget your first dog.
I let out a short and unexpected 'man-cry' at a function at the Charleville Races in 2002 (and no I wasn't dr*nk, well, not THAT time) when I found out Buddy, my dalmatian of 10 years had to be put down.
Then 6 months later our other dalmatian, Cori was accidently killed.
I have no time for melancholy - and so life goes on.
It was time for another unanticipated 'man-cry' on the weekend when we recieved word that one of Cori's pups (pictured) had died.
Her name was Rosie, 10 years of age, they adored her and lived a charmed life with large family on a wonderful Western property.
Here's to Buddy, Cori and Rosie.
Don't say...I remembered everything.
Yesterday was a fun day...a party in honour of Alexander's 40th.
I was a bit frantic (internally) but tried hard not to show it outwardly. You see, I kinda coordinated the whole thing and I was struck with the sense that I had forgotten something significant.
Alexander had a good time (phew)...helium balloons arranged, the beer and champagne flowed, waaaayy too much food of course (no one left without taking left-overs with them), slideshow of embarrasing photos on a loop, speeches were given by family and friends .........then we lit the candles, the crowd of 80 sang HB and he went to cut the huge cake......
It's then that I realised what I had forgotten !
There was NO knife to cut the cake. Arrgghhh.
I ran into the kitchen expecting to easily find a large knife to use....I returned with a sad little butter knife.
Don't say...laundry.
I have to confess that I have not done a load of washing in, at least the last 6 years. While I've been on leave it has become my new fascination.
However, today I think I am over it.
I didn't appreciate the torturous boredom that accompanies such a crucial yet mundane task.
Here's my RED HOT TIP : When the washing machine stops you've gotta hang it out.
This is the boring-est part...it's not like I am unskilled with pegs. As Leesy can attest - I did win the Warrego Fishing Club Peg Gathering Trophy in 1994.
Don't say...one week has past already !
Sunday comes around again....and it's Ivy's 1 Week Birthday (which is cause for celebration that we do actually remember what to do) !
The thing we had forgotten was that people give you really great gifts...some were home-made, some were very expensive store-bought items that we would never be able to get ourselves, cooking, a monogramed towel, an 'Ivy' bear, boxes of triple 'O' clothing, frames, ornaments, cakes, flowers, chocolate, arty pictures, tye-dyed wraps.....so much useful stuff and people are amazingly generous.
People are generous and thoughtful.
Don't say...it's ok to be mean to snakes.
Allow me to prove that I am not just a big scaredy-fraid type of personage....this picture was taken in Maleny about 3 weeks ago...I'm doing my best Steve Irwin in the background.
Growing up we (like most people) had a lot of carpet snakes that visited our yards and homes....as a teenager I got into the very inappropriate habit of disposing of them using the sharp end of the shovel.
The dilemna then was what to do with them....hmmmm......I hung some over trees (the old wifes tale that suggested it would signal a lesson for other snakes who thought they might visit) and on one memorable ocassion I curled one big one in a realistic fashion just outside the toilet while Anotherj was in there.
Anotherj admits that he has more than a small fear of snakes....much much more. When you are 14 and your big tough brother is 18 - sometimes you've just gotta take whatever opportunties arise.
So, the Big B's at the clothesline (just outside the loo) and I am waiting waiting waiting there for him to come out....I hear the flush then the scream for help.
Mighty satisfying and of course I spent the next few hours in hiding.
Don't say...you cannot rise from the ashes.
On the way to the hospital this arvie the kids were given an unexpected education via some quaint graffiti - basically - apparently some clever 14 year old's tag says in bold block letters "S*ck My C*ck" (sorry) in a place that cannot cannot cannot be missed. As we drove past I didn't say a word and neither did they - they knew to pretend they hadn't seen it.
I imagine you are not surprised to see me blog about Ivy again today...she looks like she belongs to us but doesn't look at all like any any of the others.
I had some really peaceful, quiet moments today with Ivy and Lisa with no interruptions. I don't think I have really had much time to stop and stare and appreciate what an unexpected miracle she is....perhaps her name should have been Phoenix...you know, the bird that rises from the ashes...(if you know the back story - you'll know what I mean).
Don't say...you can't be lucky 5 times.
Introducing Ivy Jane Therese !
DOB : 12.10.08
Time : 4.10pm
Weight : 8lb 12oz
Length : 55 cm
Other Details : Can't remember, sorry.
Leesy was amazing...it was tough going (long and hard with regular contractions but little progress for about 12 hours) and without any kind of pain relief did it again for the 5th time - then within 10 minutes of the delivery ate the roast chicken dinner, showered and walked up (refusing the wheelchair) to collect the kids waiting in the visitors lounge.
Don't say...too many cooks.
As Leesy slept (or tried to) this arvie I snuck out to watch the Big B give a speech for the local Historic Society.
When I got there I saw that Anotherj and the Big B were all dressed up in long pants and tucked in shirt (growing up we called them 'Mass Clothes'). I was wearing my usual t-shirt and shorts...I think I under dressed -def not Mass Clothes. Ooops. Anotherj even pointed out a splash of paint on my jumper.
So we are settling in for dinner now and Leesy has whipped up her special fried rice...she commented that I was hovering and helping 'too' much....huh ? Is there really a problem if while Leesy's stirring the rice I get my own wooden spoon, lean over and start stirring ?
Don't say...sport never ends.
Did you know that it's cricket season ?
Fascinating, I know.
I found myself escorting an individual to his first after-school cricket training session this arvie...and every week now until Christmas dontcha know. It's not like we are a household that has pushed 'sport' and it still amazes me to watch the absolute obsession with all things sporty.
I admit that I cannot relate to it but I do not discourage either. The hardest part is talking to the parents - both mothers and fathers who know allll of the rules and assume (incorrectly) that I will know them too (my sporty brothers are used to me so they assume I know nuthin'). I do not know the rules, I cannot bowl properly and please bowl slowly if I'm batting - oh, plus, after my turn batting I usually get bored and want to go home. I think I'll just say that next time...I'll walk out and stand on the pitch and scream it out.
Don't say...I am beaten by technology.
This is a vote of thanks - Pthc4 seriously saved our computer this afternoon....I have been going mad trying to tolerate/fix/erase/remove an alert that pops up incesantly to say that we need to reload our orginal set-up disc's...it's been going on for months now and we just put up with it. Well, each time I weep inwardly.
Today though, when Pthc4 called in I remembered to ask him if he could pleeeaassssse have a look and well, a few taps here and a few taps there and the problem is fixed. It is a mighty relief to me so now it no longer takes a full minute to log-on.
It's humiliating to admit how easily these "major" daily problems seem to be able to be repaired.
So I repaid him with a bag of ripe paw-paws (which he hates) and returned his autographed signed Wiggles poster (which he doesn't want).
Don't say...you can't play handball t 42.
I have experienced a little difficulty settling into my pre-baby leave.
On Monday we went to meet J for lunch and I admitted feeling as if I had taken a sickie and would get sprung at any moment.
Today we saw a movie and I spotted a workmate in the distance who perhaps (or perhaps not) had a legitimate reason for not being at work. Hmmm - interesting !
The best part has been the chance to drop the boys to school - which I can almost never do - so today I hung about played handball (badly) with the other Year 4 boys (the rules have changed so much that the game is a labrynth of reasons why you are never out, so of course I explained to them all that in MY day things were much simpler) and dug in the Prep sand-pit. Hope I didn't embarrass the boys.
Don't say...they can chew through hoses.
Here I am contemplating what I am gonna do to the next rat that chews through our dishwasher hose (and yes, I am in my pjamas, it's 7.30pm and I'll be in bed soon).
This is the second tme it's happened in 3 months.
It's not like we have a rat plague or that we are ferral...apparently, this kinda thing is really common when there is no rain and the little critters go looking for a water source.
We have fully baited the area and attached a stainless steel hose...I have one message for the rats - BRING IT !
Don't say...I'm not sporty.
This entire house has been whipped up in the Rugby League Grand Final fever...frankly, I didn't know there was such a thing.....but it's happening. The kids made decorations for the walls and we did a mini-footy tipping thing.
Interestingly, I have spent the entire game cooking party food pies and hot chips and serving it, picking up used glasses - like a hospitable house husband.
It's not over yet, and look - I'm blogging.
But, yeh, go the rugger !
Here's X and me moments ago - he is 'sporting' a blind-fold that he made this morning from tissue paper and string...it was to cover his eyes when and if the Seagulls scored a try.
Don't say...I'm not man enough.
The reason for the dinner last night was the final, offical, legal settlement of the Big B's house and now he resides only at the Unit (pictured).
The Big B's taken to leaving the street-side gate open and that is bothering Anotherj and I....so I told him and we'll see if he keeps inviting passers-by in to have a really good look.
Today at the pool I got talking to a fairly tough rugger-type father and he eventually asked me what I did for a living. I told him I worked in two schools....so then (naturally) he asked (unprompted) if I was a PE teacher.
Yep - I can see why he would obviously assume that I would be a Physical Education teacher.....after all, sport has always been my passion....I have the muscly build and am very macho.
I didn't laugh out loud...I thought "Gee I like this guy" and contemplated seeing how far I could take the PE teacher thing but then I had to tell him what I really did.
I enjoyed telling Anoterj this story last night...he laughed in the kinda way only a brother can.
