Four

Tomorrow you turn four. Four years sounds very serious. Not quite serious enough for school, but not frivolous like a three year old. My mother, your Nana, always tells me about how she and my father walked around the rose garden the morning I was born. And then I arrived with a holler at 3.20pm, in time for afternoon tea. Before you were born I would roll my eyes and groan something teenage-y whenever I heard this story; oh Mum, you're embarassing me. But I get it now. I get it because every year on the 4th of February I do the same thing. I tell you about how your dad and I went and had a last supper, well, it was lunch, at Ernesto's. We ate hash browns and eggs and hollandaise. I went to the chemist and bought the last of the supplies I thought I would need to look after a little baby. We went home and packed those few last things in my red suitcase, which is now your suitcase, and then at 5pm we went to the hospital. It was a dull overcast day, a little windy. As we came down the hill to Newtown, Christy Moore was playing on the stereo, a song I'd been teasing your dad about. I asked him how he felt. Scared, he said. When we got the hospital, your dad took photos of me beside the sign at the hospital, with my suitcase and my bump where you were. I knew I wouldn't have the bump next time I stood in the carpark. The same Christy Moore song was on the stereo when we brought you home two days later.

So it's six hours until you are four. Tomorrow when you wake up you'll come into your mum and dad's room and clamber in between us. There will most probably be a tickle fight. I will look at you and see every day since the day you were born, and when you're five, I'll get nostalgic about it.

Five for Friday

Cousins, the love story, continues. Harper and Sweeney like to:

Get trolleyed togther

Hang out with even more cousins

Make food while being watched by freaky dolls

Hang out in malls

Play air guitar in their pyjamas

Rothfest

It was my Dad's 70th birthday this month, and to celebrate, my Rothwell uncles and aunts and most of my cousins came over from Australia. It's the first time most of us have been together for more than a decade.

It's great to have family. Even if they think your accent is funny.

Just because

Cousins: A love story

Harper and Sweeney are cousins, born 19 months apart. They have a rather special bond. They love to: wear matching shirts wear cowboy hats

have a larf

read books have a splash

dry dishes

do topless construction jobs

sit beside each other

hang out at home

be with beautiful women

go fishing

goof off

and when that's all done, crash out together

thanks to Aunty Ange and Nana for pics.

How we do Christmas at Helston Heights

Start the day with a shave.

Then get stuck into the presents,

and the kai.

Perhaps later, do a little tidying up.

Hole ...

... where this little guy used to be.

He's having a riot in Chch with his nana popping fuschias in the garden, assisting in the very important task of taking out the wheelie bins, and developing a love of peas straight from the pod.

Meanwhile his parents are sanding and plastering and scraping and painting and waterblasting.

Two weeks to go till he comes home. In terms of getting chores done before he gets back, it's not enough time. In terms of how much I miss him, one minute is too long.

All I want for Mother's Day is ...

1. A breadmaker - so I don't have to faff around with yeast rising and buns proving to have fresh tasty bread.
2. A pasta machine - so I don't have a faff around rolling the bloody stuff out by hand, ending up with it too thick and coming out of the saucepan like tyre rubber. (Don't mention Sunday night.)
3. A lie down - now that H has given up his day sleep (but only at weekends), the days are awful long. There's only so much train track building and demolishing a girl can take.
4. Something from Oxfam unwrapped, like the chance for another woman to have a baby safely.

Feet, meet grass and sand

Hi blogworld, it's been a while. I've been taking a break from the screen in my non-work hours and having a little holiday, playing around in my garden, and catching up on some knitting. Don't I sound 148 years old?

Here's what I've been up to:

Harper turned two

My wee boy is now two years old. I can report he has embraced the 'terrible' in terrible twos somewhat, but as his vocab and mimicry of grown ups increases, so does his charm. Il est tres charmant. We celebrated his transition from infancy, where we now have to pay for him to fly on a plane, with a party. It was awesome. Our lounge was full of people, toys and food, and though the day started off a bit cruddy, it fined up and the little ones could do a bit of freeranging out in the yard. We were so chuffed so many people made the journey to K-town to see us, and H was chuffed with his swag of presents, so thanks everybody! Shame the kids didn't like my cupcakes as much as the icing I plastered on it - I was still finding cupcakes with the icing scraped off them the next day.

We went on holiday

Being on holiday means forgetting about; the work shoes, what day it is, the news, being on time, washing nappies, making lunches the night before.

And means embracing: barefeet, bare bums (if you are two), snoozing on the couch, grass, hot dogs on a stick with sauce, laying yourself out to dry.

We did all this in spades as we drifted north to Auckland, Whangarei and the Bay of Islands for two weeks off.
And wore my ear drums out.

I went and saw Pavement play their first gig in ten years with The Bram at the Auckland Town Hall which was awesome and nostaglic and fun. They sing one of my top five favourite songs of all time.

Two weeks later I was back in Auckland for the Pixies gig at Vector, which was really fun too, especially as I was there with some really great pals; MatnNat, The Bram, and Ange. Thanks dudes.

Stretched

Today marks a year since I became a Working Mother (TM). Now don't get all offended you stay at home mums, I'm not insinuating that you don't work, or have a rough time of it, cos I know. But working outside the home fulltime is a special kind of compromise. Not a day goes by I don't feel the pull.
However, I am also treated to something really quite wonderful when I get home from work; that tiptap of his slippers, or the padpad of his feet on the kitchen lino as he half runs to meet me.

Five more things

1. We have just signed the lease on a house with an Awesome Backyard (TM) in which I can plant some veges that might survive the winter, unlike the deep dark gully of our current yard. The front yard is all grass and quite vertical; perfect for rolling little boys down it.
2. I'm wondering when it will be safe to take my coat to the drycleaners - it's spring but feels like midwinter.
3. Kakapo are one of my favourite creatures. Especially after seeing this.
4. I am writing a story about Baby Loss Awareness Week, with the help of this book. I realised I know so many people this book would help.
5. Harper is bi-lingual. This morning he said 'aporo' as I spooned aporo into his breakfast. Sweeney on the other hand, is not. I asked him last night if he wanted more kai, and he said 'no, I want more food.' Then we had a discussion about the circumarket. He's more bi-wordal than Harper.

Five things

1. I watched Koyaanisqatsi on the weekend - it isn't anywhere near as good as Baraka. I don't think a shot of a plane taxiing for three and a half minutes is art. The hairstyles were funny though.
2. Go to The Larder in Miramar. The sausage rolls are Am-ay-zing. I want to go back and try the souffle.
3. We've exhausted the amount of time we had to buy a house, so now it's back to renting. Our landlords are returning from overseas and we have to move out by the end of the month. All I can say is pfft.
4. Harper has added 'mine' to his growing vocabulary. He usually says it quite aggressively, hugging whatever is 'mine' to his chest. He's also really into shoes, and this morning put on a pair of my high heels.
5. It hailed last night and this morning, even though we're in mid-spring. Coincidentally, one of the back windows in my car won't go up.

Today's gratuitous picture of Harper is ...

I just love this picture. There's so much going on. Boys, teeth, chairs. The boy on the left is The Sweeney, or as he would say it, Sveeney. He's my nephew. He's ace. The first baby I ever saw be born, changed, or had sole charge of. The other boy is Harper. Or as he would say it orsldkslkrogh. He's my son. He's also ace. The first baby I ever made, got up in the night for or took to a Plunket appointment. They are sitting on their chairs at P Lane in Chch. These chairs were mine and Ange's when we were kids and are now being passed on. I was a total geek when I was little (what's changed?) and wrote under the green chair 'This will go to my children'. So there it is. Going to our children.

I am a Bad Mother. Or am I?

A letter to the editor this week:

Last Wednesday’s front page said that there are ‘‘too many young parents lacking basic parenting skills’’, which was later followed by Kimberley Rothwell’s praise of a cafe for not making her feel like a pariah as her one-year-old toddled toward hot teapots, tipped sugar everywhere and left chewed food on the floor. Are all of New Zealand’s parents out to lunch?

A news story on Stuff.co.nz today:

A Pennsylvania mother drugged her 13-year-old daughter so the woman's boyfriend could get the girl pregnant, say police.
Police say 32-year-old Shana Brown is no longer able to have children, but wanted a baby with her boyfriend.
A detective says Brown and her 40-year-old boyfriend, Duane Calloway, attempted to impregnate the girl on three occasions. He says the girl prevented the rapes.
The girl's paternal grandmother reported the incidents to police in Uniontown, in western Pennsylvania, about 80 kilometres south of Pittsburgh.
Brown is facing several charges, including endangering the welfare of children. Brown's lawyer didn't immediately return a call for comment.
Calloway faces charges of attempted rape. It wasn't immediately clear if he has a lawyer.
- AP

One

Harper celebrated his first birthday last week.

I still can't believe he's my baby.

Weaned

I was planning to write some amazingly poignant post about breastfeeding and how that part of Harper's life is coming to an end, but I've got a cold thing and can't write good. I don't want to sound like some hippie who wants to b'feed her kid until he's at university, but it really has turned out to be an ace experience.
I hated it at first. It 'sucked'. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. It seemed like if you didn't have your body facing the north pole at the right angle with the wind blowing in a semi anti clockwise direction, you weren't doing it right.
But then when H was about three months old he turned his head and looked up with an expression of complete and utter awe that his favourite thing in the world came from me. He turned on one of those gummy heart-melt smiles, and I resolved that I would breastfeed till he was 21. From then on, it got easier and easier. I have breastfed on planes, in the back of a wedding car, on the Interislander ferry, in a pub, in a movie, and many other places besides. I'm not sad that we're down to only three feeds a day - I've ditched the worn out maternity bras I've been wearing 24/7 for 11 months, and can leave Harper with his dad or other non lactating person for hours and hours and not worry about him starving. But I am sad that soon perhaps Harper will call it quits on the whole thing, and that our special time together (usually with him checking out my teeth or pulling at my necklace) will be over. It's been a sweet and lovely time.

Rip torn, and some sitting

I am in desperate need of new jeans. These were bought at Top Shop in 2001 and are looking a tad shabby now. Both knees are gone and the bum is about to go too. My other pair of jeans have also been worn to death and no longer fit my post-baby body (which is smaller than my pre-baby body, I'm chuffed to say). That just leaves sweatpants and I'm not ready to surrender to those yet. Get me to a Savemart stat!

In other news, the kid is almost sitting up by himself. He is now an ambi-roller, and though it makes him grumpy, can get about on the floor by shuffling on his tummy. I am kind of dreading when he starts crawling - I can just imagine the chaos when he discovers the bookshelf, the CDs, the piles of the Postie's art supplies. Fun.

On parenting

I'm watching Harper on his playmat rolling over in fits and starts, reaching for things just beyond his grasp, dribbling on everything and then lying down to have a short rest. His little legs are in constant motion, he's attempting to get closer to a toy but can't quite get his knees up and get traction with his feet, but he's trying and I can't get over how different he is from a few weeks ago. He glances over at me with his cheeky grin, and tells the crocheted bunny in his hand something I don't understand. He's looking about his world with delight, reaching up to a flower, talking to a bee, giggling at his own reflection. And the main thing - he's not grizzling with sore gums.
I have had stink days being a mum, wishing I could go back to my old life for just one day, but I don't feel like that so much anymore. I was lying in bed in Auckland the other day with Harper happily having his breakfast in my lap, thinking how hard it was to get breastfeeding bearable for both of us and how easy it is now. I can now see how Harper fits into my old life, how that old life is enriched by his presence. I'm loved up on parenting.
At least I feel that today. Tomorrow when his teeth hurt and he can't bear me going to the toilet without him I may feel different.

A gratuitous post about how great Harper is

Yesterday was Harper's half birthday - it's been six months already and at the same time, only six months. You know what I mean? I was trying to remember our first day together at Wellington Hospital; snuggling in the bed together, getting breastfeeding started, meeting the grandparents, friends, dealing with the repercussions of birth on my body. It was a crazy day, the 5th of February. The sweetest things I remember were the sounds he made as we were wheeled from delivery to the ward at 6am that morning, and later that afternoon I put him on my lap so he could face me, and I watched in awe as his wee uncontrollable hands moved like kites above his head.

At six months, Harper is a good natured wee chap who likes to swing his feet, watch the Simpsons, have baths, eat pureed apple, sing the blues, be used as a bass guitar, look at himself in the mirror, talk to his toys, suck his thumb, have stupid faces pulled at him, hang out with the cat, stand up, be kissed around his ears, and lie on my lap.

He (fingers crossed) seems to have outgrown the reflux. I had a dairy splurge last weekend and nothing has happened, so I am tentatively back on the dairy. That reminds me, I must get to the supermarket and spend all the money I have on blue cheese...

Top five things I am loving right at this moment ...

1. The anticipation of getting a sewing machine for Mother's Day this weekend. Yey - a new toy!

2. This picture of Sweeney

3. This quote:

"A man has made at least a start on discovering the meaning of human life when he plants shade trees under which he known full well he will never sit."

4. The late afternoon sun blinding me

5. Harper's belly laugh