Sunday, May 29, 2011

Sewing Project No. 3: Mrs Perkins the Giraffe



This is another gorgeous Melly & Me design, only this time, being the by-now experienced sewer that I am, I jumped straight in with the posh fabrics. I made this for our baby and as we don't yet know if it's a boy or a girl I chose some nice bright, gender-neutral colours.



I just love this. The horns and ears were a bit tricky to turn inside out and the horns were a total pain to stuff but that aside I had a lot of fun making it and it didn't really take too long. I just did a bit here and there. I got the fabrics from The Quilter's Angel in Highfields and also managed to get some good quality Birch toy fill there. It makes such a difference having decent stuffing. A couple of people have now suggested using old pillows so I might try that next time, although hopefully Quilter's Angel will get a bag of the proper stuff in for me in time for my mother-in-law to pick it up before she heads this way next weekend.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Ah! Relaxing into maternity leave

Well here I am, day 1 of week 2 of maternity leave. Or day 4 of maternity leave. Baby 2 is due in about 11 days, which means that in 24 days I will have a baby, as my doctor likes to induce at 12 days over.

Thursdays tend to be full days for me as I have yoga and ante-natal appointments, plus tomorrow I'm getting my hair cut too. So I kept today free so I could relax and get a few jobs done around the house, such as packing my hospital bag.

Wait! Did I say relax? Ha! It seems that far from suddenly having a load of free leisure time to languish in pre-baby, I have simply replaced my work duties for my employer with more domestic duties. Here is how my day has panned out thus far:

Miss Chief and I both woke slightly late after a late night. She woke around 11pm with a poo in her nappy and excruciating nappy rash, poor darling. Took us a while to figure what was wrong. I knew she was in pain and presumed a tummy ache, couldn't get any sense out of her. Eventually I lay her down and started to undress her so I could check her nappy and that was when she eventually cried "my bum". We changed her, bathed her, lay her in front of a DVD to air-dry and then gently applied the cream, letting her do it herself. Eventually we all got back to bed.

So anyway, we woke late and Toby had already gone to work. I pottered around getting Phoebe's breakfast ready. I delivered her cereal to the table which for some bizarre reason prompted an emotional meltdown. She returned the dish to the kitchen bench, saying she didn't want it and spilling milk on the way. She then sat back down and demanded a gummy bear (vitamin chew). I put some paper towel down and told her to wipe the mess she made first. She refused and screamed louder. Then she announced that she wanted her cereal back. So began a stand-off where I refused to let her have anything until she cleaned up her mess.

Eventually, I got her to help me clean up the mess, she got her gummy bear and we sat down to breakfast. Then I made her lunch and morning and afternoon tea, realising on opening the fridge that hubbie had made off to work with the leftovers I'd planned to turn into lasagna or similar for dinner tonight. There's enough there for a family of four so I hope he's not expecting to take more lunch with him again tomorrow. Did a quick internet search to find a recipe for dinner, wrote my shopping list, packed Phoebe's daycare bag, took her to the loo, helped her brush her teeth, dressed her, dressed me, brushed my teeth, realised I didn't have time for a shower so scraped hair into a pony tail, dealt with another couple of emotional meltdowns about who knows what, and finally got us both into the car.

Dropped her off, which thankfully was easy. No tears or protests - she's pretty good these days, headed to shops and did shopping. Somehow spent a fortune but then did get things like batteries, more vitamins, a couple of change table items and some toiletries for hospital. Couldn't get Lansinoh, which is what you put on your nipples when you're breastfeeding, and I also use it to lanolise woollen nappy covers. Went next door to pharmacy to get that and it cost me $20!!! Couldn't believe it. I swear it was 30% cheaper than that when I had Phoebe. Anyway, just wanted to get everything and not have to worry about it.

Got home, rushed to loo, changed out of nice soft belly band into tight supportive belly band to relieve belly ache. Changed out of normal maternity bra into huge oversized (14D if you must know!) Bonds maternity singlet to relieve aching ribs. Changed out of nice t-shirt and jeans into daggy tracksuit bottoms and t-shirt. Don't know why I didn't just put them on in the first place. No one expects a woman at this stage of pregnancy to look good, least of all the ladies at daycare and the people in the supermarket.

Collected yesterday's mail from the mailbox, which I forgot to do yesterday. Put it all straight into the recycling bin - can't believe how much junk mail we get. Got shopping out of car, put it all away, rushed back to loo again. Realised that I had forgotten to put stock cubes on my list and that we only have 2 dishwasher tablets left. Unpacked dishwasher and stacked it with last night's dinner dishes, washed dishes that didn't fit in, tidied recycling stuff off bench. Followed sultana trail around the house, sweeping it up as I went. Hope Hansel and Gretel can still find their way home. Cleaned up Phoebe's breakfast mess, which by now was caked onto the table and chair like cement. Swept the fallen bits of cereal up from the floor. Marvelled at how dirty the floor was where hubbie and Miss Chief sit at the dinner table less than 24 hours after the cleaner had been and gave up all hope of ever living in a clean and tidy house.

Finally, at 11.06 sat down with a cup of de-caf coffee and the chocolate toffee biscuits I've been craving for 3 days (well, a poor Aussie alternative really but they're nice enough) and my recipe books to plan a nice pudding for dessert tonight. Still haven't had a shower, still need to change the kitchen bin bag and take the rubbish and recycling out. And I haven't even started on the to-do list.

Oh, gotta go, the plumber's here. Wonder if I'll get round to packing that hospital bag today or if I'll collapse in a heap and nap until it's time to pick Phoebe up again.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Now she can talk

Phoebe comes up with some little gems sometimes. Here are a few from the last week.

Goodness me, crows!
There is a gang of about five crows that hang around our garden and steal the cats' food at any opportunity. They really annoy me. I spend a lot of time banging on the patio door and yelling at them. A few months back I caught Phoebe banging on the door yelling "Bloody crows," and decided I'd better watch what I say around her.

The other morning she was opening the patio door and yelling, "Go away crow, go away. Go away crow." And a bit later she opened the door again and shouted in exasperation, "Goodness me, crow, go away. Go away, crow."

My sister tells me that my funny little niece, Lucy, also says "Goodness me" so I wonder if they've both got it from some television program, like Peppa Pig. I'm sure she didn't get it from me.


Finger-licking good
The day before she made me laugh when we were reading a story at nap time. Phoebe was in charge of turning the pages. She kept putting her index finger and thumb together and licking them. The funny thing is that she was licking them after she'd turned the page. I think Stacey, her teacher at daycare must do that when reading to the kids. She then did it rather randomly a few days later as we were leaving the shopping centre - no books in sight. I asked if that's what Stacey did and she told me it was. 




Thunderstorm
After Phoebe's nap on the same finger-licking day she asked for some fruit but we didn't have much worth eating. I was wondering out loud when we were going to get to the shops and commenting that all the fruit was past its best and she said "don't worry, Mammy, it's ok."


Thanks Phoebe.


I grabbed the phone to call Toby and see if he could pick some fruit up on his way home from work. I wasn't too keen to pop out myself as there was a rather large thunderstorm on the way and the sky was looking really ominous. Whilst on the phone I went out onto the patio to bring the washing in. It started to thunder. Phoebe picked the phone up and hit the call button. 


"It's ringing, Mammy," she said when she heard the dial tone.
Me: Oh really. Who are you calling?
Phoebe: Andrei.
Me: Oh ok then.
Phoebe: Hello Andrei. Phoebe. Sitting outside. Erm. Yes, erm. Thunderstorm. Erm. Tree. Best go inside. Er okay, bye.

It does sound rather like Andrei must have been on the other end of the phone conversing with her doesn't it? But no, this was a monologue.


Once upon a time...
She has similar monologues when "reading" stories. The other day she opened a magazine that was lying on the dining table. There was a car advert. And she said:
Once upon time in night garden a car. [mumble mumble some "words" I didn't understand.] The end.
No hitting!
Obviously Toby and I telling her that hitting and kicking is wrong is having some impact. Although she still can get a bit vicious at times, she has also been known to say to us, "No Mammy, don't hit Phoebe!" I should point out that we don't smack her or anything but seemingly certain actions get interpreted by her as hitting or pushing. The other day she and Toby were mucking about on the sofa with a bit of rough and tumble and she said, "No Daddy, don't touch me. Get your hands off me."

And the other night she was doing my hair, making it go all static. I pushed it out of my eyes and she said "No, just leave it. Just leave it. No touching."




A handle?
The other day we were in the supermarket and Phoebe started asking for lollies. Lollies in Australia often just means sweeties or candy, as opposed to specifically lollipops. I told her I wasn't buying lollies because we had chewy snakes in the car and loads of Easter chocolate at home. When we got to the checkout she kept asking for a handle.

"A handle? What do you mean a handle? [To Toby] What's a handle?"
Toby shrugged.
"Mammy, amma handle. Handle. Please."

Eventually we discovered that she meant a lollipop.


And I'll have the ice cream, thanks
Last night we were out for dinner with friends. We were all ordering dessert and we said to Phoebe, "Tell the man with the book [i.e. the menu] what you want."


She turned to the waiter and very clearly asked for "ice cream please."

"Would you like some chocolate sauce with that?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said.

A little later Toby and a friend had coffees brought to the table and Phoebe turned to the waiter and said, "Babycino please." Sometimes I forget she's only two.





Grumpy
But by far the funniest story that had Toby and me in stitches the other tea time is the one that started with Phoebe asking for "Chocolate?"

"No Phoebe," I told her. "You haven't eaten any vegetables. Eat that carrot if you want to have some chocolate."


She rolled her eyes and sighed as if to say, not this again. Then she frowned and folded her arms. 


"I'm grumpy," she announced in all seriousness.


"Really?" I asked. "Is Phoebe grumpy?"


"Yes," she said. "I'm grumpy, like Stacey."


I don't know where she got that from but it made my day.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Eee man, my little girl makes me laugh sometimes

I picked Phoebe up from daycare today.

When I arrived she was on her way to the toilet. I watched as she pulled down her leggings and knickers, sat on the toilet, did a wee and attempted to wipe her bottom. Well, wasn't I the proud Mammy.

Then she got off the toilet and did a nudie run around the classroom. Pride, fall and all that.

Eventually I managed to catch her and get her dressed and we left.

Sort of. See, there's this cubby house in the playground on the way out. Phoebe loves this cubby house. She likes to hide in it from me, knowing full well, I'm sure, that at 8 months pregnant it's slightly beyond me to get on my hands and knees and pull her out of it. Somehow I did manage to get her out, which displeased her greatly. I could tell that as soon as I put her down she was going to run back into the playhouse so I attempted to carry her to the car. She squirmed like a giant worm making it really hard to keep hold of her. So I half-dragged, half-carried her to the car. By the time we got there she was crying. I asked her what was wrong.

Phoebe: Don't want to leave daycare, Mammy.
Me: We have to. It's time to go home and get some dinner.
Phoebe: No, Mammy, wanna go back to daycare with Stacey and Jen.
Me: Everyone's going home now, Pheebs. There'll be no one here to play with or look after you.
Phoebe: No Mammy, I don't wanna go home. Wanna stay daycare.
Me: Really? Why don't you want to go home? What about if we play Boom Boom Pow in the car?
Boom Boom Pow is her current favourite song, which I find quite amusing in itself. Little Black Eyed Peas fan.
Phoebe [Shaking head]: No, Mammy. Nooooo.

Anyway, during a lengthy and emotional discussion about the relative merits of going home versus staying at daycare all night I managed to get her fastened into the car seat. We set off for home with my current favourite CD playing, the latest Black Eyed Peas, The Beginning. Not, by the way, the one with Boom Boom Pow on it. I turned it up hoping to distract Miss Chief with music.

Phoebe [Wailing]: Boom Boom Pow, Mammy. Boom Boom Pow.

So I changed the CD and cranked up Boom Boom Pow. When it started she gave an excited giggle and started to sing.

Phoebe: Phoebe happy now. Phoebe not sad any more, Mammy.
Me: Really? That's good.
Phoebe: Phoebe don't want to stay at daycare any more Mammy. Phoebe want to go home. Have yum yums. Go home and have dinner. Boom boom pow.

How she made me giggle as she basically repeated all the things back to me that I'd said in an attempt to persuade her that going home was a great idea.

The hilarity didn't stop there either. Back home I was getting dinner ready when Phoebe came into the kitchen saying, "Lookame Mammy, lookame. Phoebe wearing a hat. Look Mammy, a hat. A hat."