Monthly Archives: March 2011

The piano man

Devilboy has a new piano, and by piano I mean piece of plastic crap that has a keyboard and makes a lot of noise, and has been busily churning out some sensational new compositions of his own this evening.

Standout lyrics include;

“I love you daddy and that’s just the way it is!”

“Mummy is my best friend except for Finny who is really my best friend.”

 And my personal favourite,

 “Baby sister, baby sister, you cry a lot… can I lick you?”

Top 40 here he comes.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Devilboy, Uncategorized

Tasty wee treat

Devilboy has embraced big brotherhood with great enthusiasm. And, while we’re thrilled that there’s been no jealously or resentment and that he loves his baby sister  “bigger than a really tall jump” (which is, in Devilboy world, a lot!) we aren’t entirely without concerns, though they’re not ones addressed in any parenting books I’ve stumbled across.

You see, given my little man’s huge appetite – a thing of perplexing enormity that is inversely proportional to his lanky little body – I’m a tad worried that he might find our delicious little bundle of joy just a touch too tasty.

He frets when she cries, as babies are want to do with great frequency, and to end the tears proffers such sage parenting advice as “sprinkling her with cheese” as mentioned in the previous post. An interesting idea, I admit, but one I think is doomed to near certain failure.

Another hint of his carnivorous leanings came with his suggestion that we “put some bread in her bassinet” to mop up the tears, perhaps something commonly done by parents in a parallel universe I’ve not yet visited, but something that I must confess hadn’t occurred to me two kids in to this whole parenting malarkey.

But it is with Devilboy’s latest line of questioning,  during a pleasant family breakfast, that the fear our beloved firstborn is actually a flesh-eating zombie seems truly founded and I am fraught with worry that my beautiful Devilette is going to get eaten by the end of the day.

“Mummy, what does a baby sister taste like?”

If he asks for some fava beans and a bottle of Chianti, we’re outta here.

Leave a comment

Filed under Devilboy, Mealtimes, Uncategorized

Say cheese!

Devilette cried a fair bit today… as four week old bubs tend to do. A concerned  Devilboy insists it’s because she has a tummy ache. And he has the solution!

“I’m going to sprinkle her with cheese”

Of course you are. :-/

Leave a comment

Filed under Devilboy, Devilette, Uncategorized

Starkers raving mad

Devilboy’s latest nocturnal fetish is Sleepnuding.

Nothing as traditional as sleepwalking for my boy, no. Instead he has started stripping in his sleep.

This is the second night in a row I’ve gone to check on him late at night  to find him lolling au naturel across his bed.

I wonder where I can get a toddler size stripper pole to install in his bedroom?

Leave a comment

Filed under Devilboy, Uncategorized

Surprise!

18 nights ago and unable to sleep, I found myself writing the following epistle to my unborn daughter…

 My darling Trufflette,

It’s been almost nine months since we first met you – a tiny cluster of expanding cells huddling together in absolute blastocystic beauty. I knew in that first moment that it would be you, of all our  embsicles, that would be the one to stay and complete our family -though I dared not say it out loud. I was smugly certain that, as I peed on the little white stick that would become my conduit to life as a mother of two, two little lines would appear.

But after so many disappointments, when my instinct was proved right and that lovely linear duo appeared, I was overcome and I sobbed and sobbed. (Scaring the shit out of your dad who didn’t realize my tears were those of joy but who, on further investigation of said pissy stick, quickly joined in the somewhat damp and salty celebrations.)

Of other things I wasn’t so certain. For example, after your first ultrasound I was convinced you were a boy and your brother convinced you were a shark . This was of great concern. Not that you might be a boy, I would have been cool with that. More that Casa Conception had somehow implanted the wrong embryo and some poor infertile shark somewhere was carrying a human baby. You must admit this would be a somewhat perturbing turn of events.

Nor did I know that you would have so many little surprises for us along the way.

Though I’m sure you were having a simply fab time swimming about in the pink room – beating mummy’s insides black and blue with your little ninja kicks, doing those special baby gymnastic moves that make mummy look like an extra on Alien, swinging on the umbilical cord like a fetal Tarzan (or Jane) and merrily drinking your own pee – you’ve certainly kept me on my very swollen toes.

It started when I was told that there was an extremely high risk of you having chromosonal abnormalities, information that was accompanied by demands that I undergo invasive tests that could risk tiny 12-week-old you coming into the world at all. Mama-bear mode kicked in almost on the spot.  I knew they were wrong and I fought them kicking and screaming all the way. A month and some less intrusive, though still scary, tests later and I was right again, you were just fine.

And, to my great surprise, a little girl.

Thrilled as I was  by this unexpected development, it did kinda fuck up our plans to name you Remy, which both your dad and I had thought was the perfect name for our new baby boy. (Though your nutty brother-to-be wanted the more formal “Blue Remy Rat”). Sadly, that was the last name we saw eye-to-eye on and here we are on the eve of your birth, and your dad and I still haven’t come to any agreement (though Devilboy is still putting a case forward for his preferred rodent prénom) so please  forgive me if you’re lumbered with “Number 2” for a time.

I was also surprised at how much harder it was to carry you in my ageing and weary body than it was to carry your brother and  the scares you’ve given me because of it. But I shouldn’t really have been shocked… I am getting a bit long in the tooth to be playing a game mother-nature designed for women half my age (Note to Mother Nature if you happen to be reading this: You. Are. A. Bitch)

Though this gestating a person malarkey has been a bit tough at times, I have really enjoyed having you along for the ride while you’ve been renting out the pink room. In fact, it’s been a privilege having you aboard. But I will admit that but I am very much looking forward to your disembarking the mother ship and meeting you face to face, so I can have my instincts, this time that you are utterly perfect, confirmed once more. And so, my love, that you can see for yourself just how much your dad, brother and I already love you… ”

I never had the chance to review,  finish or post this nausea inducing pap as, when the clock struck midnight, so did writers block and I put it aside for another day.

And that was my undoing. It turned out that the blockage was actually somewhere around my cervix and it cleared with forceful impact at around 5am the following morning when my waters broke and I went into early labour, yet another curly surprise from that impatient little japester in my belly as she shouted “surprise!” and demanded entry into the world, right bloody now.

And so, just a few hours of unfuckingbelievable  pain, a shed full of drugs, and an emergency caesarian later, a tiny 3kg of deliciousness arrived to validate my belief that my beautiful little girl was, and indeed is, utter perfection.

Perky little Ms. Marlo (her name became clear to us both the minute she was handed over for her first cuddle) and her uterine cohabiting shark (who are we to ruin Devilboys fantastical notions of a sharky sibling sibling?) are both doing well, as is the rest of this very blissful family.

So to my darling daughter… we’ll just have to fill in the blanks of my abandoned epistle as we get to know each other over the next lifetime. But know that it would have been signed off –  with much love,  Mummy. x

2 Comments

Filed under Devilette, pregnancy, Uncategorized