Wednesday, September 28, 2011
growing up (too fast)
Every morning for the past week or so I have woken to the sound of Che's footsteps. And every morning he comes around to my side of the bed, gently pats me on the arm and says: "Mum, is it my birthday today?"
Che turns four on Friday and we've been counting down the sleeps. He requested a party in the park with his school friends, a special cake and some party hats. I also told him that because it's his birthday he can request his favourite meal for dinner. "Mum, I'd really like avocado, strawberries, cheese and tomatoes please." I love his healthy choice of meal but he thought about it some more and has since decided on "...pizza from the pizza man with pineapple." So p from the p-man with p it is.
He's grown up a lot since he became a big brother. He's using words like 'brilliant', 'ginormous' and 'outstanding' and his made-up stories have become innocent forms of genius. Yesterday he sat in his room for an hour reading The Big Book of Richard Scarry and after that he built me a robot from lego. On Sunday mornings we bake pancakes together and just this week, on his new vintage 'school-boy' desk he has drawn pictures of our family which Daniel and I have been a bit teary over.
My beautiful boy turns four on Friday. And I wonder where oh where those four years have gone.
Labels:
being a big brother
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celebrations
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che
Sunday, August 28, 2011
the growing and birthing of Poet Winter
It rained in October 2010. On and off the clouds grew heavy and eventually they let go. In October 2010 my parsley and mint were thriving in their terracotta pots.
She was conceived in the spring time while the rain drops fell.
Labels:
being a big brother
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danielgrey.com
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family
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natural birth
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poet
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pregnancy
Thursday, August 18, 2011
outside
When I arrived home from the birth centre with Poet, I honestly thought that Che looked gigantic. I questioned whether he had had a growth spurt in the eight or so hours since I was gone. Sure my post-birth high may have affected my perception on that first day, but since then I have had to remind myself that, actually, he's still quite little. I suppose when I'm comparing him to someone that fits in the crook of my arm, he's going to look big.
Che is about to turn four. And it seems that in the midst of become a big brother and adjusting to having a little baby around, he's become rather argumentative. I'll admit that my patience hasn't extended very far but I'm a little tired of the word: 'No!' Daniel even had this conversation with him yesterday:
"Hey Che..."
"Yeah Dad?"
"Is 'no' the only word you can say?"
"Yes...No."
Hmmm. While Poet and I have been spending a lot of time inside, Daniel has been taking Che outside. Their little adventures have been essential to maintaining a sense of calm within our home. They go swimming, exploring, beach walking and bush adventuring.
Poet and I will join them sometime soon. But this week Che has been sick...a grumpy, mopy little guy who is finding it difficult to understand why he can't cuddle "the baby."
This week is all about learning to balance...as a mother of two.
And I have thought, many times in the past few days, how do Mumas of 3, 4, 5 children do it? Please share, I'd love to know.
Labels:
being a big brother
,
ché
Friday, August 05, 2011
you're home now
In the newborn haze where you're sleep deprived, blissfully happy and unable to comprehend the simplest of questions, days melt into one another and before you know it another week has come around. The sweet spring sun has started to beckon and we've left our abode a few times, only to return a short while later, happy to have been out in the world but so pleased to be home again.
Of course when we do go out, the little bundle curled up in the sling attracts a lot of attention. It's been slightly heartbreaking to watch Che as he meanders in the background and regardless of how much Daniel and I bring him into the conversation, for most people there's nothing quite like the allure of a newborn. He's been having nightmares too and so most nights he ends up in our bed. Four in the bed and the little one said...
I've been making sure I give him as many cuddles as I can, telling him how much I love him several times a day and encouraging him to interact with Poet. What has been so incredibly awe-inspiring as a parent is watching him take her in. He ponders the size of her hands, kisses her forehead and come really close when I'm feeding her.
But, there has been one thing that he has said, since she was born, that leaves me silent and a little teary.
Every day he comes really close to her and says:
"You're home now Baby."
Like she's been waiting to come.
Labels:
babymoon
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being a big brother
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ché
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family
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poet
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
ps
Five hours after she was born we came home and went to bed. Today, one week later, I've ventured out of the bedroom feeling rested, content and incredibly blessed. There's been so much to reflect on, a lot to take in and, of course, the imagining of what the days will bring.
Poet Winter is simply gorgeous - a wide-eyed beauty with the knowing and curiosity of a wise little being. Che adores her but, as was expected, he's been a little challenged by the change. I think the hardest thing for me has been the sudden multi-tasking of being a muma of two. Attempting to attach Poet, breathe through after-pains (whoa - intense!) and include/chat with Che was difficult. But, we got there.
The grandmas have been here everyday - they have cooked, washed and tidied. We have only had a handful of visitors. Just as we had intended. Most of the time it's just been the four of us - getting to know each other. Our new little family.
Thank you, so much, for all your well-wishes, congratulatory messages and 'loves' of her name. She is indeed our little Poet. And with initials like P.S. I do wonder whether she'll always have something extra to say.
Labels:
being a big brother
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family
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natural birth
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poet
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
"thinking of you"
To all of you who have left comments or sent emails wishing me a safe and beautiful birth - thank you. It means so much to receive such sweet gestures from across the lands and over the oceans.
The past few days have probably been the most challenging of this pregnancy. On Saturday I came down with a cold and spent the next few days in bed. In retrospect I was doing just a little too much nesting and my body didn't like it. So I've been staying in and resting up, keeping warm (it's been oh so icy) and cuddling with Che. The challenge hasn't been at all physical. In fact, I still feel energised and not overly big, although getting out of bed is a sight to behold.
It's the mental journey a woman embarks on as she gets oh so close to birthing that's confronting and challenging. Last night I lay in bed thinking about the fact that I'm about to become a Muma to two. And that Che won't be my only child. There's a sadness embedded deep within the reality, that these next few days will be the last before we start a new beginning. While he is rearing to embrace his new role as big brother, his cuddles, copious 'i love yous' and need to be close to me subtly tells me that he's holding on too - to being the only one.
I suppose we all need to let go of something.
I keep experiencing moments of fear about birthing, looking after a newborn, imminent change. And then they pass and I'm ok again.
This morning I got a pedicure so I have pretty toes to look at while I labour. And then I went and did what was probably my third 'last shop.' And I bought more toilet paper and more tissues and more maternity pads. Because you can't have enough of those.
A packet of 0000 white singlets made their way into the trolley too. They are already in the washing machine. Softening for baby.
I feel like I've got another good week in me. I am definitely not fed-up. Which I'm grateful for.
The house is clean, the washing is done. The grandmas are close to their phones at all times.
And we wait.
Photos by Tim, of course.
Labels:
being a big brother
,
ché
,
family
,
growing a baby
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
bump: sweet in the morning
Five weeks to go and I'm noticing little rituals forming in my day - a cup of tea in the morning sun just one of them. The ledge for the tea cup is handy too. Baby is still dancing in my belly, stretching it's legs and arching its back - the sure sign of a yogi or, perhaps, a ballerina. Braxton hicks have stepped up a notch this week, encouraging me to be in the moment and reminding me to breathe deep. I'm still teaching classes, still writing articles. But soon, work will slow down and I'll just 'be' for those last few weeks. Slowly yet purposefully preparing, feathering and waiting for baby's arrival. On the full moon, perhaps.
Labels:
being a big brother
,
growing a baby
Monday, May 02, 2011
there's going to be a baby
Story time: "There's Going to be a Baby" by John Burningham & Helen Oxenbury.
Che: "Mum, can I tell you a question?"Me: Sure.
Che: "How did the baby get in your belly?"
Me: One day, Muma and Dada decided we would really like the baby to start growing in my belly. And it did."
Che: "Can I get in there?"
Me: "No, you've already been in there. When it was your turn to grow."
Che: "How will the baby come out."
Me: "Well, when the baby is ready I'll start getting a few pains in my belly and I might breathe really deep and perhaps make deep, roaring noises like a lion. And then it will be born."
Che: "Who will catch the baby?"
Me: "I'm not sure yet. Maybe Dad, he caught you. Or maybe Val, our midwife."
Che: "Will the baby have milky?"
Me: "Yes."
Che: "Can I have some too?"
Me: "No, you had milky for two whole years. When the baby is born it will be the baby's turn for milky."
Che: "Muma, I'm love the baby."
Me: "The baby loves you too."
Labels:
being a big brother
,
growing a baby
Every morning for the past week or so I have woken to the sound of Che's footsteps. And every morning he comes around to my side of the bed, gently pats me on the arm and says: "Mum, is it my birthday today?" 
When I arrived home from the birth centre with Poet, I honestly thought that Che looked gigantic. I questioned whether he had had a growth spurt in the eight or so hours since I was gone. Sure my post-birth high may have affected my perception on that first day, but since then I have had to remind myself that, actually, he's still quite little. I suppose when I'm comparing him to someone that fits in the crook of my arm, he's going to look big.
In the newborn haze where you're sleep deprived, blissfully happy and unable to comprehend the simplest of questions, days melt into one another and before you know it another week has come around. The sweet spring sun has started to beckon and we've left our abode a few times, only to return a short while later, happy to have been out in the world but so pleased to be home again.
Five hours after she was born we came home and went to bed. Today, one week later, I've ventured out of the bedroom feeling rested, content and incredibly blessed. There's been so much to reflect on, a lot to take in and, of course, the imagining of what the days will bring.
To all of you who have left comments or sent emails wishing me a safe and beautiful birth - thank you. It means so much to receive such sweet gestures from across the lands and over the oceans. 
Five weeks to go and I'm noticing little rituals forming in my day - a cup of tea in the morning sun just one of them. The ledge for the tea cup is handy too. Baby is still dancing in my belly, stretching it's legs and arching its back - the sure sign of a yogi or, perhaps, a ballerina. Braxton hicks have stepped up a notch this week, encouraging me to be in the moment and reminding me to breathe deep. I'm still teaching classes, still writing articles. But soon, work will slow down and I'll just 'be' for those last few weeks. Slowly yet purposefully preparing, feathering and waiting for baby's arrival. On the full moon, perhaps.
