Mummy Brain? Oh, is that what it's called?

New baby. Ahh. Sweet. Breast or bottle? He likes breast, I like bottle? Bottle then. Which type? Nuk or Avant? Which teats? new born - seems too small, next size - too big. Doesn't like bottle, or is it the teat? Or maybe the formula? Change the bottle, no, formula? No, back to original bottle.

Hungry? Maybe, feed or no feed? cuddle or no cuddle? nappy change? what type of nappy? huggies for night and others for day. How do I clean that up that mess? Wipes or water? Crying (again). Hungry? No, Wet? No. Maybe cold (need more clothes?) or hot (take some off). Not sure. Tired? Yes, that must be it. Cot for sleep. Looks to little to put in the cot. Swaddle? Maybe. Arms in or out? Pop in a sleeping bag too or not? Still crying. Dummy? Give it a go. Nope, doesn't want it.

Going out, small or big nappy bag. How many hours will I be out? how many nappies and bottles? Should I take an extra just in case? Stroller or big pram? Where am I going again? Should I take a spare top for dribbles on me?

Hungry, maybe needs some real food. Rice cereal. Spit. No thank you. Maybe mixed with fruit? Nope. how about just fruit. Yep that works. Food everywhere, need to change clothes. Mmm, what can he wear? (what can I wear?) Jump suit or pants and top? Whats the weather? These will do. Oh, they don't fit. Bonds are small. Maybe pumpkin patch. Need new clothes. What size?

Teething. One tooth, two teeth - is that it? Is he going to sleep tonight? Panadol or not? Bonjella? Maybe Neurophen? Maybe a bottle. No bottle. Ok, teething stopped.

Toddling now. Need to move things. What can he hurt himself on? Need to baby proof fire, stairs (gate at top and bottom or just bottom, or just top?), draws and cupboards (which ones can he play in?. Move the cutlery up to another drawer.

Starting creche next week. What does he need to take? I need a new bag. Diago or Toy Story. V. important decision. Will it fit three change s of clothes? How will we all get ready in the morning? What time will I need to get up? Ashley will need to dress himself. How will we cope in the evenings? First day work. Drop off OK. Trains break down in the afternoon. Mmm, Murphy's law. Early pick up turns into late pick up.

Yuck, what is that in the nappy? Teething (nope - no teeth), oh, gastro. Not good. What does the book say to do? how long is this going to last. Need poo changing gloves. Wash everything. Bugger, i've got it now. Will I live? Maybe after today I will. Well again. No, spoke too soon, sick, cold this time. Doctor or no doctor. Try those nose drops. Oh, doesn't like those at all. Conjunctivitis now. Oh, I've got it too. Bugger. Send the germs back to creche. Home they come again. What are those spots. Please stop crying and just tell me what is wrong. Oh, hand foot and mouth now, and what's that - a tooth at the same time. Yippee. (NOT).

Back on foods. Need to move onto more chunky food. How about I mash with a fork not moosh with a machine. Please don't spit it at me. Ok, back to moosh. What's that - you like to eat it with your hands. Sure. Cough, are you choking. Yes, No. OK, you have your colour back and are laughing so must be a no.

And so it goes..... on and on and on. And that's just the baby brain. The toddler brain is working in there too, along with the wife one and the work one. Will I ever be sane again:-)

He Ho, He Ho, Its Back to Work I Go

Well it seems like only yesterday that I was finishing up at work and now I am back. Well sort of - today I am home due to child illness - something that I suspect will be the story of our lives for another year at least. Lachlan, now 8 months, has been orientated into his creche. After his first week - entailing only 4 hours in total, he was rewarded with a gastro bug which he not so kindly passed onto mum. The second week, about 10 hours at creche, he caught a cold which he shared with Ashley. This cold, coupled with the arrival of two new teeth (only 16 more to go) has lingered and so the cycle of sickness and health begins.

I'm kind of excited about being back at work (even if the job is not the perfect fit for me - I have new strategies for dealing with this). I've a new handbag (very very exciting), new shoes (less so), a new coat and a book to read on the train. I will get at least 45 minutes of quiet reading time on the way to and from work (or a sleep as the current pattern seems to be), a little walk with my husband (some times) and a quiet lunch break. I'll get to mix with grown ups, chat about things that stimulate my brain and keep myself busy and organised.

But the trade off is not being with my boys, or is it? I recently read that mother who work part time is a better mother, being more organised and dedicating more time to her children on her "off" days than a mother working full time or not at all. Although many would disagree, I tend to agree with this - particularly on the days where my anxiety levels are at a high - apparently, according to my husband, a consequence of being a control freak (although I prefer to use another term). Best I be micro-managing myself at work than at home cleaning the pantry, linen cupboard or filing my paperwork. Unfortunately for me, at times these instinct overwrite the one to relax and enjoy the mess, something I myself, am not too good at.

So, for now its 3 days on, 4 days off, a good balance, although somewhat a challenge with two children compared to one. Still, we'll get the hang of it and then... well then there is school... I'll ponder that another day.

Married to a Meteorologist

I recently commenced a photography course - something I have been pondering doing for a long time and am thoroughly enjoying. This week we were learning all about light. So with my pen poised I listened intently and took instruction on how to take that amazing storm shot with the lightening touching the ground in a perfect zig zag. It came up in conversation that my dear husband is a meteorologist who is waiting patiently for me to deliver a photo that would impress him... to which my tutor said.. "well you need to get into his head to take that perfect shot"!!

Easier said than done. How on earth does one who does not quite share the "passion" for weather do that? What makes a meteorologist and why am I not one?

As we approach the end of our school days we make decisions that impact the rest of our lives, such as what profession we will choose. I personally believe that rather than choose a profession myself I have taken a path that has led me to something that I enjoy and draws on my key skills and interests. My husband, on the other hand, studied for many years in his chosen field and every day is totally enthralled in wind and rain and clouds which are themselves the wonders of the weather. I did read somewhere that those who enter the profession of meteorology rarely leave... and having observed first hand the absolute passion that these people have for their jobs I can see why.

Having married into meteorology, it does have its advantages. I know when to put the washing out and bring it in. I get up to the minute weather reports in the morning to assist with dressing. I (almost) never get wet when out for a walk (Sandy point excluded), we know when to water the garden and often get to enjoy out of season snow trips.

I am now observing though my own son starting to develop some of his fathers "nutty weather" characteristics which does lead me to wonder if weather is in the genes and if so, do meteorologists actually breed children with such a passion that they follow in their parents footsteps. I don't exactly see Ashley showing any interest at all in what I do for a profession. Yet he engages daily in conversation with his father about what the weather was like and makes strange comments out of the blue such as "weather is good mum".

My son loves rain and snow. Storms are becoming a little more scary but that said, on occasions I have collected him from creche on a stormy day when all other children are shaking and he is staring out the window with excitement. I am not sure whether he is excited cause it is a storm or cause he can tell his dad all about it. He reports fog, rain (and whether it is big or little rain) and recently I recall him asking to watch videos of hail on U Tube many times over.

The one challenge of living with one (and maybe two family members) with such passion is that it never stops, it never goes away, and it never takes a break. I can no longer use this to engage in small talk or as a conversation starter as the discussion flows to a much deeper level than my brain can cope with.

So I am not sure that I can "get into my husband's head", but that asside, with MY new passion of photography - I can assure you that the next time he says "lets go and look at that storm" - I'll be there - camera in hand.

Meet Miss Marley Jones

It's been almost a year since I said my sad farewells to Wally J Jones (see posting below). I still think about him regularly, particularly when my son asks where he is and when he is coming home. I have explained that Wally has gone to heaven which is where he lives now as a star in the sky and is very happy. He won't be coming home. "Evans", as Ashley calls it, must be a good place.

Given I am off work at the moment we decided that it was time to add to the family and so we went in search of a new puppy. Our criteria, well quite simply, a black Cocker Spaniel. Similar temperament to Wally but different enough so as not to replace him. Seems in this cycber world the internet is now the new pet shop and we quickly found a breeder who just happened to have a few litters born. We slapped down a deposit having picked our dog from the pictures on the net and have waited his homecoming at 8 weeks.

So, meet Miss Marley Jones. Naming the dog was not an easy task. Ask Ashley and the only possible name for the puppy was "Wally", not Polly, Molly, Holly or Lolly. So, we just picked Marley (with fingers tightly crossed that she is somewhat better behaved that the screen animal which shares the same name.)

It has been a week since Marley joined us and I can only say we are very very pleased. The delight on Ashley's face when we picked up Marley was a joy to watch. She sleeps well, pees mostly outside, poops mostly on the paper and well, is just a delight really. We are looking forward to many long and lovely years with our new puppy.

Stop the Clock

My how time flys. I can't believe that my little baby boy will be 16 weeks old next week. Yes, 4 months, a third of a year. It makes me want to stop the clock, or at least slow it down a little. Amazing to think that it must be a year to the day that I found out I was pregnant.

Since he was born Lachlan has gained 3 kilo's, and grown 13 cm in length. He can now smile, giggle, sing, lift his head and nearly roll. What amazing accomplishments for someone so young.

I wouldn't mind jumping forward a little to get a full night of uninterrupted sleep, (although mum tells me that didn't happen for her until I was about 6) but, I do enjoy the cuddles with my little boy (even those in the night), when his little hands grasp my one finger, and he shows me his beautiful gummy smile which appears when he no longer wants to drink. He is so helpless with only eyes for his mummy, its something worth bottling up.

It seems such a short time ago that I was putting Lachlan's little cargo pants on his brother. And yet Ashley is now a 3 and a half year old giant at 106cm and 18.6kg, who will soon be lifting his mum around and patting her on the head. Ashley, once the little cousin, is less behind Tom and James (aged 5) (see picture). He has become a little person with a delightful personality of his own.

He has started using grown up terms like "in a minute" and "I'm busy", and graduated to riding a big boy bike with training wheels. He has started 3 year old kinder and tells me his is going to go to school. But the most notable recent change is that he has a new idol. That's right. No longer is his mum the apple of his eye - no, its dad who has now taken on this role. He wants to get big like dad, pee like daddy, wear daddy shirts, pants and pajamas and eat daddy food. He wants to boogie board like dad, get a wetsuit like dad and well, just be like his daddy. He loves to cook for daddy, go to Bunnings with Daddy and have icy drinks and baby chino's with daddy. Lucky I have Lachlan or I would be starting to feel a little redundant.

As the days tick by towards my 36th birthday, I wonder if my mum thinks the same. In 36 years I have grown about 113 cm's and gained some 60+ kilo's. I have finished school and uni and have gone from nurturing my dolls to my own two boys. My how time flys.

It's just a good think that parenting comes with lots of fantastic stories and memories.

Stop the clock.

New Years Resolution

When I was 13, I made a new years resolution not to bite my fingernails. I was in high school and decided they just looked yuck and so, cold turkey, I stopped biting them. Amazingly, I discovered that once they grew, I actually had really nice fingernails, they are strong, a good shape and look lovely with a manicure. I often receive compliments on them from un-reformed nail biters.

This was probably my first resolution I recall. Following this I am sure I made many, most probably related to weight loss or fitness, to save money etc. As I got older though, I realised that to resolve to do something was a sure fire way to set oneself up to fail, so instead, a plan was put into place to reach my goals. These goals included a trip to Disneyland before I was 25 (accomplished) and to buy our first home (also completed).

When I was 25, which seems like such a long time ago, I put pen to paper and wrote my "plan" on a tiny scrap piece of paper (which I still keep today as a reminder of how far I have come). This was a time when I felt I was starting to "grow up". I changed jobs having been at my first place of employment for 6 years, and moved into a senior management role for a large international finance company. This promotion came with more money, more opportunity and an ability for me to focus more on what I wanted in life.

My Plan went something like this:

Age 26 - bonus and payrise (check) complete renovations on house (partly)

Age 27 - complete renovations (mostly) buy a new house (check)

Age 28/29 - bonus and payrise (check), new car - had to be a forester (check) overseas holiday (yes - to Malasyia and Borneo) and promotion to Vice President (accomplished)

Age 30 - Save money

Age 31/32 - complete uni studies (done - Diploma in Legal Studies), overseas holiday (Tahiti). This plan did not forsee a redundancy this year (although it was noted as a variable that may change the plan) which was effectively a nice lotto win. It enabled us to pay off the house (not scheduled until age 33) and start trying for children. It also, however, made me focus on what I wanted from my employment at this time. I set clear employment goals moving into a new phase in my life (i.e. a family) and well, everything fell into place.

Age 33 - Pay off the house (completed age 31) and start family (Ashley was born in July, my redundancy child)

Age 34 - Return to work (yes - new job part time) overseas holiday - went to Fiji

I have intermittently added some resolutions along the way. Again, loose weight, get fitter, save money. One year I resolved to give to every charity that asked for money at the train station - so that particular year I bought a poppy, legacy badge, daffodil, buzzy bee and put money in lots of tins.

I will shortly be 36. My plan stopped at 35 when I sort of lost focus because I had all I wanted. And interestingly enough I read the book The Secret about the law of attraction. It talks about how if you want something enough you can get it. Well I do partly agree this is true. I haven't got my million dollars as yet (although I am about to check my lotto ticket), but I am pondering the next 10 years as my boys get older and what direction I want to take. It's time to enact a new plan. That is my resolution (oh, and to shed my baby weight, get back my fitness, fix my foot and have a happy and healthy 2010).

Happy new year.