Saturday, September 29, 2012

Resisting Temptation...and....Family Planner love

I went to the Sydney Baby Expo with my SIL Sal and a few other relo's yesterday. While I'm a great, cautious shopper at big shopping centres and strips, I am hopeless at expo's, markets and fetes. Theres something about all the little stalls that just overrides my budget kill switch and I end up buying all these fabulous and irresistible items.
I rarely suffer from buyers remorse because I fall in love with these little items, ESPECIALLY when they come from someones handmade stall. All these clever work at home mums with their handmade dresses, bedroom embellishments, curios, toys, the list goes on and on but my budget does not. Don't even get me started with the grandma's that have out their knitted bootee's and blankets. I love them.
This year, I am determined to not give in to temptation. If I want to stay on maternity leave for longer than 6 months (and I am aiming for 18 months!) then I need to get better at my budget kill switch.
So when I went to the expo yesterday with the girls, I made sure there was no money in my wallet. Zilch. And I set myself the rule that I could buy whatever I wanted, as long as I really really wanted it, and was willing to go back for it at the end of the day and pay cash in person.
Since I am the laziest person in the world, and by the end of an expo day am dying to get my sore feet into the car, this actually works for me. Besides giving me some time away and perspective from the must have item, I've also got to want it badly enough to re-cover the same ground when I'm tired and just want to go home.
So I ended up with only 2 purchases yesterday. x2 pacifier grips from Little YoYo Styles for Sebastian, something I have been patrolling the Internet for looking for a sale of free shipping for the last couple of weeks.

Sal, Val from Inner-B, and Moi
And, *drum roll please*, the very fabulous, much coveted, Inner B Family Planner. I've been reading all these reviews about the Inner B products over the last few weeks, and someone (I can't remember who, I'm so sorry anonymous blogger!) absolutely sold me on the Family Planner. I really only use a diary for the last 3 months of the year, but a wall calendar I use all year round. And this planner is the bomb. Its the poo of all planners. And I bought it for the rock bottom, unbelievable price of $10 (down from $24.95) at the Expo. I was already planning on buying one online, but at this price at the expo there was no way I could miss it.

And by the way, I spent a blissful hour playing with my new toy last night, filling in all the blanks for the next few weeks. I have a major problem with husband thinking he can make plans for himself - for some reason he seems to think he can have a life of his own. Ha! With 3 kids, all with busy diaries, Hubby needs to know our schedule before making plans so he can be available when the kids exceed my capabilities.
This planner, with its separate sections for each kid as well as a generous day plan for us adults should help us to stop over booking ourselves. I love that it doesn't have the dates already written in as well - I write them myself in the "week starting" section. It means I can start using it now instead of in 2013. I'll probably let the weekly planner lapse a bit over the January school holidays, because we get nice and quiet then, so I don't have to waste pages on an empty planner.
So all in all, score for me. I only spent $36 yesterday including my share of the parking, because my ticket came free courtesy of Sal who has been doing write ups of the Expo. I resisted the temptation to buy so many beautiful dresses for Lolly, hats for Sebastian, and a series of sexy baby bags for me. I want a new baby bag so very badly, even though there is nothing wrong with the one I have. I've just fallen in love with the gorgeous leather, handbag style ones I keep seeing. Must keep resisting.

Have you resisted temptation lately? Do you have any other tips for keeping your budget kill switch under control when shopping?

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Showers and husbands

After 5 weeks visiting various hospitals little Sebastian is home with us! What have I learnt since we got him home?
In my own bed

When the little doodle is standing up, duck for cover. Much fun and games. I've only ever changed girls before, and they don't have quite the trajectory that Seb does.

 Also:
My husband is an idiot of the best variety.

What has he learnt since we got Seb home?

Well, he has learnt that it's not clever to change your wailing newborn in the same room as your sleeping 1 year old at midnight. Not if you expect to be allowed to go to bed after handing over the newborn to your wife to feed.
After a night of no sleep thanks
to Dad - Grouchy Lolly

He's learnt that it's equally not clever to put your 1 year old to bed with a toy that not only talks but has been programmed to say said 1 year olds name in various contexts. Once again, don't expect to be allowed to go to bed when the 1 year old wakes up at 4 in the morning because her toy is calling out "Hi Lorelei, do you want to play?". Yes indeed. Lorelei would love to play.

I look forward to many more nights of feeding and Love Boat. I often turn to Twitter for entertainment at 4am, but it appears the rest of you are sleeping. Not sure why.
Next time you are awake at a stupid hour, feel free to give me a Twitter shout out.

Anyone else get an unexpected shower this week? Or have a husband who isn't making the best decisions at night time?

Friday, September 14, 2012

Dear Diary

The drafts section of my blog is starting to read like a really tragic dear diary. Emotionally I am being tugged up and down routinely lately, and my instinct is often to start writing.
Most of the posts never get finished. Writing frantically for 15 minutes seems to help me sort through and rationalise some of what I am feeling at the time, and the posts generally get saved with the intention that I will come back and spell check/edit later.
Something always happens before 'later' arrives, and the strong emotions that I felt when writing a post tend to fizzle off, leaving me without enthusiasm for the original post.
48 hours ago, I got a phone call from the hospital at midnight, urging me to come in. They were concerned about Sebastian and were taking him to Westmead.

When I arrived at the hospital and saw my littlest and most delicate baby's ghostly white and lifeless form I went into hysterics. This was underscored by the hospital suggesting that if a babysitter could be found my husband should really join me at the hospital. The careful implications of the suggestion made it clear that there was a possibility that my son might not be with us much longer.
I can't even open the post that I typed out at 3am in the morning - the emotions raging through me at the time were so strong I don't feel like I can face them again.
48 hours later I'm at the other end of the spectrum. Wildly happy. He's stable. He doesn't have cancer. He won't need an operation. He has an infection which can be named, treated, and battled. Rota virus. It's serious in a premmie, but not so serious that he won't overcome it. He's in isolation, but the cheeky monkey is already responding to the antibiotics and spent a big chunk of today playing tongue poking games with me. I would swear he's playing with smiling too.





I never thought I would be so happy with the circumstances as they are today. I am so relieved he doesn't have cancer that I am confusingly happy he has Rota virus.
I'm happy to feel happy. I never want to feel the way I did 48 hours ago again. 

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Meltdown Mummyhearts style

I had a mini meltdown at the hospital today.

Sebastian is doing great. Really great. There is nothing wrong with him, when he finally hits the last milestone of being able to take every feed as a bottle instead of through an IV he will be able to come home. Slowly he  has progressed from 3 bottles per day, to 4, to alternate bottle/IV feeds. Now we are up to the stage where we let him set the pace, and more often than not he is having a bottle.
My little family. Lolly is just desperate to touch Seb
At night time when the nurses feed him he has all bottles. And drinks the whole bottle. In the evening when Husband feeds him he has a bottle and drinks the lot. I do all the day feeds. And I have yet to be able to get him to drink a whole bottle once. Not once. I didn't realise at first that I was the only one with this issue. I blamed it on the bath I might have given him. He had used all his energy on the bath and didn't have any left to suck. Or maybe he was just particularly active at night and sleepy during the day.
Husband comes home each evening smug with his efforts. I feel like he and the nurses are exchanging notes. When I had a hissy today about not being able to get the last 20 mls into Seb the nurse quite sweetly told me that no-one else has a problem. She suggested that maybe I need to improve my feeding technique. I may or may not have had violent thoughts at that moment.
He's my third child! I know how to feed a baby. But that doesn't stop me listening to all the tips that every second nurse wants to offer up. I will try everything, I'm not too proud to learn, but for the most part no-one seems to think I am doing anything wrong. The only suggestions they offer are things I am trying anyway. But I am getting discouraged and unhappy. I feel like its my fault now that my boy is still in hospital. Because if I could get my act together and feed him properly maybe he would be home.

Hence the meltdown.

And I know that thoughts like this are dangerous. These are the kinds of thoughts that led me down a path of post natal depression with Maddy. I DON'T have PND this time around, I understand the difference, but I am emotional and unhappy. I want my boy home, and I don't want to be the reason he is in hospital. Part of me doesn't want to go back to feed him tomorrow, because if I stay away maybe the nurses will be able to give him all his bottles and we will get closer to getting him home. But I'm scared to do that too because then once he's home he will suffer a setback because I can't feed him properly.

I just want him home. And I want to be capable of looking after him.

Have you ever felt like you can't look after your own child? Please share. I will stop tearing up if I can read other peoples success stories

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

New Body, No Clothes, and No Money.....

BEFORE: 2010. 
2 years ago I weighed over 100 kilo's. And I was fine with it. Still am actually. I wasn't particularly unhealthy, I was still very active with my kids, and I wasn't all that self conscious about my size. I wasn't always that big, it was just something that gradually happened after I had my first child and went to work in an office instead of on my feet in a child care centre or markets which were my jobs as a teenager and young adult.
I would be annoyed sometimes by the lack of nice clothes available in my size though. I liked clothes as a young adult, and there was nothing more annoying than spotting some fashion trend that would suit a larger frame that wasn't available in the larger sizes. Or if it was, it had been modified with those obvious little tucks and shapes that are for 'big' women.
Anyway, bygones. Not a problem anymore. Between 2 terrible pregnancies in 2011 and 2012, I have lost 40 kilo's. Pregnancy #1 (or 2 if you are kid counting) I never stopped vomiting. Ever. At any given time of day, I might have to grab my giant size zip lock baggie and have a private puke behind my computer screen at work, or discreetly out of the way at the shops. That's when I lost the bulk of the weight, about 30 kilo's.
While I was on maternity leave I couldn't afford to buy new clothes, but there were a handful of items in the wardrobe leftover from skinnier days that fitted, and I kind of modified bigger stuff with safety pins, belts, etc to make them work. It wasn't a good look, but at least I wasn't running around butt nekkid. I kind of figured that once I went back to work I would start increasing the wardrobe.
But surprise! The day before I went back to work I found out I was pregnant again. I'm not sure how I got a job in banking because I clearly can't count.
AFTER: 2 weeks ago. My
face doesn't look as yuk
now though, I've lost
the bags and gaunt look
I was running with.
So it seemed pointless to buy new clothes then, because who knew what size I would be post pregnancy. So again, for the last 7 months I have been making do. Even 8 months pregnant all my old pants were too big for me.
But pregnancy #2 (or 3, how are we counting?) was even worse. The vomiting wasn't as bad, but the pain. Oh my goodness, the pain. It was terrible. No wonder the poor bub came early, he got sick of my moaning and groaning. And because I spent so much time in bed curled up, I missed alot of meals. 10 kilo's later, even the skeleton wardrobe I could fit into before no longer works. I have nothing.
Seriously.
Nothing.

Or close enough. I have a pair of 3/4 tights. A pair or 3/4 black pants. And maybe 4 t-shirt type tops and 2 jackets. That's it!
My knickers bag around my butt, my bra looks like a huge shopping bag with one leetle orange rolling around in it, and the hospital must think I have some kind of dependency on these tights because I rarely show up to give Seb his nappy change and bottle in anything else.
Money is still tight, so I am giving myself to the mission to sell off as much as I can from my current wardrobe to create funds for a new wardrobe.
My big problem now is that I am actually nervous and intimidated by the stores now. It has been 10 years since I could shop in those boutique stores, and I'm not 100% sure if I can now. I don't even know what size I am! 12? 14? I'm scared to go in and have them look at me like I shouldn't be there. I'm petrified of being fitted for a new bra and having the sales assistance see how ridiculous I look in the old one. I don't know why I am more self conscious being a smaller size than I was a larger size, but I am.
I'll share the wardrobe rebuilding as the funding becomes available - suddenly I am so much more interested in fashion blogs than I used to be as I try to work out inexpensive ways of building my wardrobe and looking nice again.
Have you ever had to dramatically overhaul your wardrobe? How did you go about it?