Missi Moo

3 months AKA the blink of an eye

So, my Missi-Moo-We-Love-You - you are three months old today.

Just like that.

Don't you look so shocked with those beautiful big beady eyes, Mummy's absolutely reeling here!

Somehow, we have made it to this milestone point relatively unscathed and madly in love with each other.

Or do I just speak for myself here?

Well, you sure seem to adore me

- the way you follow me with your eyes, touch my skin, give those huge smiles, snuggle in and copy my facial expressions.

You are most definitely adored around here.

Daddy, Magoo and I can't get enough of you.

We love your gorgeous smiles and could baby babble with you all day.

We couldn't imagine life without you and are relishing being a family of four.

Your brother?

Well, he is just smitten.

(And I'm pretty certain the feeling is mutual too.)

My heart just about bursts when I see the two of you together and I couldn't be prouder of our big brother Magoo.

Your Daddy absolutely dotes on you - and is already strategising his 'Missi Protection Plan'.

I don't foresee you bringing too many boys home for some reason!!

Missi, thank you for completing our family.

For being this beautiful tiny person

who has unlocked a whole 'nother' part of my heart that I didn't even know existed.

I love you more than I could ever articulate.

More than I think my poor head can contemplate sometimes.

Mwa Mwa Mwa

Mummy

xxx

Teaching The Teacher

The thing about this motherhood/parenting caper 

(or is it just life in general and I happen to be a Mum/parent??)

is that it is EVER changing.

One minute you can be walking along pushing your pram and grinning from ear to ear at your good fortune.

With the sun shining, your gorgeous boy riding his bike in front, your adorable baby in the pram

and that lovely dog at your side - could life be any better??

The next minute, the boy has taken a stack and is kindly alerting the entire neighbourhood,

the baby wakes and also feels the need to let everyone know, 

whilst the dog uncharacteristically decides to leave a lovingly prepared gift on someone's front lawn - could life be any better??

One day, you're lamenting about the routine week stretching out before you.

The next, you find yourself in hospital with your poor baby - wishing for a return to that ordinary, ho-hum week.

I'm learning not to take anything for granted - the good, the bad or the ugly.

I'm learning to embrace the highs and ride the lows.

I'm learning to adapt and evolve, adapt and evolve.

(That may just be my little mantra at the moment - adapt and evolve.)

I can be my own worst enemy - almost ruining those fantastic phases

- with the questioning and worrying about when it will all come crashing down...

I can be my own worst enemy - catastrophising and envisioning a horror day

turning into a horror week, a horror month, a horror year, a horror life...

I'm learning to take one day at a time - and spend less time with my head in tomorrow and beyond

(or rubbernecking at other people's seemingly 'perfect' lives).

I'm getting better at survival stroke - more comfortable in the knowledge that it's a temporary measure

- and pretty efficient anyway.

And to think I thought I was a teacher.

These two lovelies are teaching me more than I could ever have imagined.

Ooooh. I love, love, love that she loves him. And that he loves her.

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Wiggle It

C'mon Mum - The Wiggles are waiting!!

This weekend was filled with plenty of the good stuff (I is eloquent hey?!),

but Sunday morning was one of particularly good stuff.

The much anticipated (well, in this household anyway!) annual Wiggles concert had finally arrived.

Despite all my non commercial parenting principles (before actually having children, of course), we're big Wiggles fans here.

This year we got to explore the newly opened Perth Arena - with almost every other family in the west.

Hubby and I were super impressed with the place - especially all the little touches that made our morning oh so easy.

While it was the original Wiggles' Farewell Tour, it was our time to Indoctrinate Missi into the Wiggly way.

Missi, however, wasn't overly excited by the awesome foursome and their friends - choosing to snooze her way through her first concert.

There may have been a tear in my eye though as we waved Murray, Greg and Jeff off for the last time.

How was your weekend?

Was it all hot potatoes - or more of the cold spaghetti variety?

Linking with lookout Lou's Point + Shoot

Shar :-)

Grateful For ...The Christmas Blitz 2012

Pheee-eeew.

After a moment of panic earlier in the week -

I have now sorrrr.ted Christmas (as in the commercial, superficial side of Christmas) over the last two mornings.

Missi and I have gone hell for leather on the retail front - 

filling trolleys, nabbing bargains here, paying too much there, loading the car up over and over and tickety tick ticking our gift lists.

Well, my gift lists.

12 weeks old - and she still can't read or write. Tut tut.

Apart from two big ticket items that Santa's elves are busily preparing - we are a-go.

Wooo hooo!!

I am sooo grateful that I can feel all smug this weekend -

 and avoid the shops as much as possible over the next month.

(Until I realise that I've forgotten someone!)

Now I can't wait to put the tree up - so I have somewhere to put all this stuff!!

Are you gifted up?

Or have I made you feel sick at the thought?

Linking with the 52 Weeks of Grateful @ Village Voices

Shar :-)

How Is It?

How is it that the sound of running water somehow resembles the sound of my baby crying as soon as I step into the shower?

Yet when I emerge soapy, hurried and bedraggled the crying has miraculously stopped?

How is it that when I'm out at the washing line I can definitely, positively, absolutely hear my baby crying

- only to abandon my precious washing line protocols, fling those pegs on, race inside... and hear nothing.

Ha ha - Gotcha!!

How is it that the one time I refuse to succumb to the silly Mummy it's-just-in-my-airy-head trickery -

 I find that Missi has in fact been crying in there all this time?

Motherhood is a cruel gig sometimes, isn't it?

Shar :-)

Microwave For One, Anyone?

I was literally chopping a full tray of vegetables to roast with our dinner,

when I spied out of the corner of my beady little eye a segment on the Ellen show today.

The segment was a tribute to 'Book Awareness Week' in The States and featured some 'interesting' books that viewers has sent in.

They were hilarious.

Including this one..

Until it wasn't hilarious after a moment and it made me super sad.

Microwave. For. One.

(Despite there being enough food on that cover to feed many 'ones'.)

Those three little words have sat with me all afternoon.

I mean no disrespect to anyone as I have lived alone for a period of time myself.

Despite a busy schedule and full social life, dinner was sometimes a lonely affair though.

There may or may not have been a fallback (slack) meal of microwaveable vegie pouches in effect.

I certainly didn't value my own company enough to serve myself three courses and a glass of wine!

With a family to feed, feral o'clock can be a minefield.

Getting a nutritious meal on the table each night can be a military operation.

(I have been known to begin the process before 8am. Regularly.)

Ensuring said meal is eaten (or appreciated) is sometimes a losing battle.

But it's a damn sight better than 'Microwave For One' in my eyes.

The next time I resent prepping, cooking, serving (or binning) a meal for my family,

I will thank Sonia Allison for reminding me to give thanks for the abundance in our household.

What's for dinner at your place tonight?

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Snap!

Papping the papp!

My stunning (and oh so talented) friend Louise was here in the West on a flying visit this weekend.

Naturally, a catch up breakfast by the beach became putting the photographer to work on the beach.

Thank you, Lou.

It was such a treat to see you - and have you snap my babies.

(Even if we were missing yours.)

xxx

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot

Grateful For... A Retreating Wave

It's a pretty cool feeling being me today!

I spy with my little eye .. Mummy in the mirror!

The wave of anxiety that rose up a couple of weeks ago 

is playing nice and retreating without too much fuss.

Not that I was entirely aware of the size of the wave knocking me about.

But I guess the whole 'baby not breathing' thing will tend do that to a mother.

As you know, this is what us Mums do - just keep on keeping on -

without the debrief or barely a moment of 'woah - that was scary/exhausting/traumatic'.

But while getting on with it, I've also been waiting with bated breath for the next crisis.

As usual, it's not until the tight shoulders, the restless sleep, the knotted stomach, the uneasiness...

have subsided that I really notice they were even there in the first place.

The end of this week has me breathing easier and deeper, standing straighter and smiling wider.

For that I'm so grateful.

Happy, happy weekend.

Linking with the '52 Weeks of Grateful' over at KIdspot.

Shar :-)

Come...As You Are..

Today is PJ Day at Magoo's pre-kindy.



He's a tad miffed that I insisted on underwear though.
Fair enough too.

I'm thinking it should be more widespread than this.

Let's go for National Pyjama Day.

As in don't. do. a. thing.

(okay, maybe brush those teeth)

and come on out to play.

Shar :-)

Tis' The Season...

Magoo has played right into the hands of the commercial powers that be.

He has twigged that Christmas is a coming - and he is starting to get a tad excited.

So naturally, his thoughts are turning to dear old Mr Claus.

Just this evening he told me

"I think I've had a lucky day, Mum.

Because when I was naughty before, I'm pretty sure Santa was having a cup of tea."

And so young Magoo has opened the season in fine form.

The age old season of Santa-driven discipline.

It's now open slather on the not so subtle hints/threats!

Do you remind your little ones that Santa Claus is coming to town?

That he's making a list and checking it twice?

Hey Santa, put down your cuppa and check me out.
Butter wouldn't melt!

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : A Goodie

Boy oh boy -  we love ourselves some sparkle, some cake...

and some friends that have the misfortune of being considered as close as family.

A weekend that included plenty of each just has to be a goodie, doesn't it?

Thanks for asking, now how was yours?

Linking with lonely Lou's Point + Shoot

Just a tad excited that she's a-headed our way this week.

Shar :-)

Grateful For ...Patience

Not mine.

No, definitely not mine.

His.

For weeks now I have been marvelling at just how very, very patient this boy is.

This boy who was an only child with a damn good lifestyle up until a couple of months ago.

Magoo has astounded me with how well he has adapted to being the big brother around here.

He continuously floors me with how tolerant and patient he can be.

Not to mention how loving, sensible and kind he is.

Magoo hasn't complained once in two months, despite often having to wait for attention, stuff, assistance, me...

He goes about his business independently a lot of the time

- fancying himself as a bit of a junior Mr. Maker with all of his crafts, construction and Lego building on the go.

He goes out of his way to help me and just goes with the flow when plans change or fall through.

Just this morning, we were meeting friends at the zoo.

Until I forgot my mobile (smacks head) - and couldn't contact them to rendezvous.

Magoo took it in his stride -  hopeful that we would bump into them on our travels around the grounds,

but dealing with it when we didn't.

I think I could learn a thing or ten from him.

Linking with Maxabella Loves' 52 Weeks Of Grateful

Shar :-)

One Word...

I always dismiss these one word answer things - because in one word  -  I'm verbose.
Far too verbose for single word answers.
I have a need to explain, qualify, justify... everything - and that can't be done with one word.
Or ten even.

Kate posted this little questionnaire on her blog the other day though - and I thought I would give it a go.

I kid you not, it almost physically hurt me to stop at a single word...

1. Where is your mobile phone?   bag

2. Your hair?   easy

3. Your mother?   worried

4. Your father?   far

5. Your favourite food?   everchanging

6. Your dream last night?   interrupted

7. Your favourite drink?   social

8. Your dream/goal?   comfort

9. What room are you in?   study

10. Your hobby?   running

11. Your fear?   loss

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years?   content

13. Where were you last night?   couch

14. Something that you aren’t?   chilled

15. Muffins?   top!

16. Wish list item?   sleep

17. Where did you grow up?  debatable

18. Last thing you did?   list

19. What are you wearing?   bigger

20. Your TV?   insignificant

21. Your pet?   neglected!

22. Friends?   amazing

23. Your life?   full

24. Your mood?   sleep-dependent

Laughed / Cried!

25. Missing someone?   always

26. Vehicle?   functional

27. Something you’re not wearing?  mascara

 

28. Your favorite store?  newsagents!

29. Your favorite colour?  bright

30. When was the last time you laughed?  earlier

31. Last time you cried?  Sunday

32. Your best friend?   brilliant

33. One place that I go to over and over?   kitchen

34. One person who emails me regularly?   Surf Club

35. Favorite place to eat?   table

Can you answer all those in one word?

Shar :-)

The Other Foot

Today was 'Kindy Orientation Day' at my school.

As a teacher, I've always been stupidly excited and enthusiastic about days like today.

I love meeting our new students and their families.

I love welcoming them and providing them with a taste of what next year will hold for us all.

I love being that bright, confident, reassuring voice that makes the session

a positive, encouraging one for the children and has them looking forward to what lies ahead.

But today was Magoo's Kindy Orientation Day at my school.

As a parent, I woke up with an uneasy feeling and a knot in my stomach this morning.

I was halfway through my run before I realised that what I was feeling was related to the orientation.

Today it was my turn to be the nervous, emotional parent who wasn't quite sure what to feel.

The shoe was well and truly on the other foot.

And it was a tad uncomfortable, that shoe!

Of course, our morning was just gorgeous and Magoo had an absolute ball.

The staff were really beautiful and ensured that the children thoroughly enjoyed their experience.

There was a lovely, warm feeling about the session and

I am genuinely delighted about our choice of school for next year.

Except for the part where my little baby boy will actually be going to school (4 full days!!!) next year.



Excuse me - I seem to have misplaced my little man and found this big boy instead.

If I'm a tad teary and nostalgic today

- I don't even want to think about the 1st of February next year!

Or that big school uniform/school bag business - aaggghh.

This umbilical cord needs an extension lead!

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Homeboys

After the week that was all but wiped me out,

it was lovely to pull back and hang around the house this weekend.

Do not underestimate the healing power of trackies.

We lazed, pottered and played.

Between fifty bazillion trips to the pharmacy (let's not discuss feeding issues),

we enjoyed some snippets of home based simple pleasures.

Linking with lovely Lou's Point + Shoot

Shar :-)

Grateful For... This, Here, Now

You hear that sound??

No?

Good.

That silence.

That quiet accompanied by that regular, rythmic flashing green light.

I won't take that for granted again.

It's our breathing monitor telling me that Missi is sleeping soundly - but safely in there.

It has been over 24 hours since the last alarm sounded,

warning me that our little girl had not taken breath for a concerning length of time (yet again).

A whole day and night without an alarm.

Music to my ears (and heart rate).

Why does it take serious scares to pull me back into line?

(Is this why my children keep doing it to me???!!)

Why does it take a night in hospital witnessing the horrific problems

and heartache that others are shouldering to shift my sooky la la perspective?

Hee hee. Just keeping you on your toes, Mum!! :-)

I have so much to be thankful for.

Missi apparently has severe reflux

- and appears to take her immune response a little too far after immunisations.

But she is perfectly healthy and robust.

I miss my Mummy and immediate family a lot of the time.

But I still have amazing support from across the world and right here in my own little world.

My home is embarrassingly feral this week.

But we have somewhere familiar and comfortable for us to laugh, cuddle and lay our heads at night...

I am grateful for the week gone - as stressful and exhausting as it has been -

because it has shown me, once again, how much I have to give thanks for.

Tonight, I plan to revel in my hubby's company, be at peace with my choice to clean instead of cook

(or break my neck to do both) today, gaze lovingly at my cute kids and enjoy my sparkling

finally-back-from-the-jewellers wedding rings.

Before falling asleep by 8.30pm no doubt!!

This, here, now - it's pretty damn good.

Appreciate it.

Happy weekend.

Linking with Maxabella Loves' 52 Weeks of Grateful

Shar :-)

I Want My Mum

I have a number of character traits that I dislike.
I talk too much, I interrupt people and I'm a control freak... just to mention a few.

But, there's one thing I really despise about myself.
It's not obvious and it is completely (thankfully) unspoken - but in one particular area of my life I am a jealous cow.

My family all live in our homeland of Ireland.
It is my choice to reside here in Australia - and I have to be a big girl and suck up the consequences of that choice.
But sometimes I just don't wanna.

Sometimes I'm far too in touch with my inner toddler.
In fact, sometimes I want to throw myself on the floor, flail around and scream "I. Want. My. Mummy".
Particularly in the shops, actually.

Especially when I see Mums out with their children and their Mums.
Or when you tell me that your Mum popped over or your Mum has your kids or your Mum came to the doctors with you or your Mum made the cake or your Mum thought that your child had a temp or your Mum is too demanding or... you get the idea.

On challenging days, often all I want is to pack my kids up, hop on a plane to Ireland and turn up on Mum's doorstep.
(Actually I did that last year, but it's hardly feasible on a regular basis!)
Then I remember how horrific the flight is and I take a walk instead.

I feel for Hubby too, because I often think that if my Mum or my sister were close by, then he wouldn't have to be 'it and a bit' in terms of my family.
If they were around, surely he could go paddling all weekend long without the guilt trip of leaving me here on my poor old lonesome.
Or maybe not.

There's a level of familiarity and dependence that comes with Mums and sisters that I really crave at times. That ease. That freedom to be completely vulnerable and maybe a tad unhinged.

I am so blessed with amazing, fabulous friends - but they also have their own lives to lead and families to be with.

When I had Magoo, one of our neighbours had a grandchild at the same time.
A few times a week, I would see her daughter drive in with her baby girl - coming to see her Mum or drop the baby to Mum's or to pick up Mum so they could all head off to an appointment or the shops together.

She was (is) a lovely girl - but I found myself wanting to kick her in the shins or pull her hair or stab her with a fork.
I would be heading off for yet another walk by myself with my crying baby  and she got to have 'Nanna time'.
I used to watch them drive off and flip them the bird.
Honestly. How embarrassing.
(I'm confident my disgraceful behaviour went unseen and couldn't possibly be the reason they moved last year. I hope.)

I'm burning with shame at that admission here - but it's almost uncontrollable - the silent jealousy.
It's still here fours years on.
I went to two appointments on Tuesday and in both waiting rooms were Mums with their Mums.
I'm pretty sure I gave them all the evil eye - accidentally of course.
Then I came home with my newly cortisoned wrist, put my newly immunised, miserable baby to bed and cried like an even bigger baby.

Until the universe intervened and forced me to grow back up.

My actual (beautiful) baby stopped breathing.
Twice. And then once more on the drive into the hospital.
Blue lips. Cold face.

Terrified parents.

Missi and I are home from hospital today - but her breathing monitor has alarmed five times so far.

I am on high alert.

There's no room to be feeling sorry for myself anymore.

This week I've been reminded that I am the Mummy now.
I need to woman up and save the sook for another time.

(You know what though, I still want my Mummy.)
xx