Morgan's Birthday

Here is the last picture of Morgan age 1 year. Just as I would have wished it, full and contented and sleepy in my arms.


So, here we are then, she's TWO now. And don't I know it, with her little finger up her nose all of the time and her amusing new game of running as fast as she can in another direction when I call her... ;) She is the funniest little toddler. That's the first thing strangers tell me about my child, not how pretty she is or how clever she is or how good she is, but how funny she is. "Determined" - "a character" - "a handful". Parenting her is certainly exhausting, but oh! So much fun!

A small pile of gifts and a balloon hidden under some play silks...


Birthday breakfast, and train of animals and candles for the birthday girl...


Riding on Daddy's back over the bridge at Attenborough...


All ready for a night-time walk back at the park near our house...

Of my December doing

Cool home-made gifts...


More felt-making...


Pre-Christmas bump...


And lots of cold walks...

A here and there day

Today we borrowed a car again - we are having a really bad run with public transport and we had a few appointments to make all in one go. Part of me is really looking forward to eventually owning a car again. Emotionally, I hate cars. I hate travelling in cars. I can't get over being totally freaked out by attempting to learn to drive cars. I don't WANT a car. But I'm very very sick of arguing with bus drivers and waiting in the cold for an hour for a bus that doesn't come and trying to make Morgan stay on a seat with no seatbelt. Etc.

Anyhow, off topic rant there! (Now you KNOW I'm really back...)

First we had to drop the cat at the vets. She wasn't impressed. She's even less impressed now that she's back with stitches and a silly lampshade thingy. (By the way, she didn't have an accident or anything, we've just prevented the kitten question coming into play since we dare not yet leave her to the mercy of the neighbourhood Toms.)

Then off to the hospital to see the diabetic nurse. No, I have not managed to go through a glucose tollerance test. We didn't even try this time. This time I have to take some readings myself over the next couple of weeks before and after eating. I'm willing to submit to this on the basis that blood tests don't stress me out, aren't doing the baby any harm, and keep the midwives off my back about my Dad being insulin dependant. ;)

My first reading (before eating junk food for lunch) was 4.1 - my second, two hours afterwards, was 5.3. For those who like the geektrivia about such things. Apparently it's OK if it goes up to 8 after having eating (8!) but nope, my body deals with matters much faster than that. I don't think they're going to get any wierd readings out of me after two sets of the most normal readings known to mankind in spite of having broken ALL the dietry rules.

We came home via Ikea. I say via, it's actually a bit out of the way, but we really really needed to buy some dinner plates and the word Sale loomed large. We got the plates. And also a gorgeous wooden easel for the children. :)

As we pulled up at home Jenna asked if she could open her "weasel". We said yes, but after a short giggle, pointed out that it's actually an easel, and a weasel is something different. Visibly disappointed, Jenna said, "Oh. Oh well. Can I still draw on it if it's not a weasel?"

This makes me smile so much I just know that it has undergone an automatic name change. The children are currently having another happy drawing session before bed, occasionally inspecting each others' work on the other side of the weasel.

Yup, it's me again!

Computer: back and in fully working condition.

Children: absolutely flipping manic (has someone been feeding them caffeine??!), parenting them right now feels like trying to juggle a sackful of monkeys.

Me: still sick, still better than I was, still a bit up and down (but again generally better) and totally totally shattered from making an average of six bathroom trips a night...

Baby: wiggly. Cutely sticky-out. And stubbornly the wrong way up most of the time.

Life in general: really good. Lots of craft stuff and fun games and other things that make me smile.

Proper updates and some backdated pictures and ramblings: coming up when I'm less shattered.

Also,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY Naomi darling, I'm so so sorry you had a tough day. I also know that you will hate me for calling belated and unwanted attention to you, but you're a star and if anyone deserves a bit of a fuss making of them it's you. (birthday hugs) We're building up quite a pile of presents after so long so either postage needs to get REALLY cheap or we HAVE to come and see you. If you leave it til that little toddler turns two you won't be able to carry everything that made me think of you in the interim. ;)

A quick note

To let those of you know who are unable to otherwise contact me, that we're alive and doing OK and the *insert expletive here* computer has been down for two weeks. Will be back with updates and belated postings of randomness in the new year, because I've certainly been writing a lot (and missing everyone).

Have a wonderful Christmas everyone, and I'll be back as soon as our friend manages to replace the components that exploded...

More home-made decorations

Instructions from Kleas (found via The Crafty Crow). I was really grateful for the inspiration, because I've been looking for such a short sweet simple felting project ever since I got my felting supplies, and the girls are really a bit small to allow anywhere near needle felting...


Poking the wool with blunt instruments...


Finished but very very damp. The children were both a little bit damp too, but that's what comes of giving Jenna a squirty bottle filled with soapy water to wet the projects with - yes I *knew* what would happen, and I still gave her control of the bottle, the joys of neglectful parenting again. :)

In fact today has gone very much to plan (apart from conjunctivitis) and I'm still coping OK being on my own with them again. And we *did* actually make bread, so I feel pretty pleased with myself. Making bread is, perhaps, the benchmark of Coping in my house. This sort of thing used to come easy, and now it feels like work. But it's getting better, I think. I hope.

Another slightly random update

Home made mince pies!


You may *just* be able to see in this picture, Jenna has conjunctivitis. The doctor can't see us for another three days, so no antibiotics for her, and it looks like we're going to miss out on her friend's birthday party on Saturday. It always all comes at once, doesn't it? Morgan has been rubbing *her* eyes today too, further confirming my diagnosis.

The silly thing is, we could be seen today IF we went to the drop-in centre. Which has a lovely big soft play area in the corner and a very horrible crowded waiting room. Now I can stand the waiting room, but there's no way I can keep them both off the play equipment, and it just isn't fair to spread this to all those children. I don't get it - it seems like some mad sort of torture to put a lovely big play area in when chances are most of the children who are in an emergancy waiting area in the first place are probably ill and quite possibly contagious!

Plan for today: Make bread, wet-felt some hanging ornaments for friends, wait in for the post (I'm expecting candles and essential oils, yay).

And this morning....

... we have SNOW!



Yes, and that is our street looking very terraced and grey (once again you can see why I long to live somewhere green). And yes, it is still dark in this picture - the girls had to go and make a snowman before breakfast. And yes, that is Morgan eating snow there. :S What can I say? Sometimes the best parenting runs to benign neglect. ;)

The garden looked beautiful and magical, but apparently was no use for gathering enough snow to do anything with (the garden is also lovingly neglected and the grass is knee deep to a small Morgan) and also was no good for sliding. We finally retreated to eat hot cereal after nearly an hour, when Morgan was turning slowly blue and both girls had soaked their gloves through.

Decorations!

Well we don't seem to have any working lights (isn't that traditional?) but up went the tree anyway, and all the other bits and pieces.






Izzy likes the tree very much. But apparently tinsel is not all that edible, even for a strange cat like ours who eats hair bands and bubble wrap...

It just remains for us to take our walk around the nearest woods and gather a bit of greenery. :)

Woodland Winter Walk

So this is how we spent our Sunday, in the freeezing cold having a nice winter walk with friends. We had a car again just for the weekend, because we were going for a meal in Nottingham with Martin's family on Saturday night (which was actually really lovely and not at all stressful!).

And Sunday found us in Sherwood Forest, wrapped up as warmly as possible. Thanks to Naomi and family for a most wonderful afternoon (even if Morgan did turn a little bit blue in spite of layers and sling and everything).




I don't think Tristan was very happy about having to give the rainbow umbrella back though...

Assorted further disjointed doing stuff

So a while back I promised a picture of Morgan's birthday present. Maybe that wasn't here, but anyhow, I know you all hang out in the same places lol, so here it is.



We've been doing more Christmassy making, decorations and the like. Today we're all about the paper chains. I'm not sure my house is ever going to be unglued again. Anyway, later when Martin gets home the tree is going up and the nativity is going to take over the mantlepiece and all of the wintery clutter *currently* up there is going onto the season table. So no doubt this week will be full of seasonal pictures from me!



More soap making...



A wire and bead season table make (not for me but shh, it's a secret)!



Scented cookie decorations (apple sauce, PVA glue, and cinnamon) all ready for gingham ribbon and white painted "icing"...

Not sure if the children are coming down with something. Jenna at least is really droopy, and Morgan felt unusually warm last night and woke twice for milk so I'm keeping my eye on them. Once we get the paperchains off the floor and out of the way a little we're going to make fudge (I finally found non-nestle condensed milk!) and then hopefully walk to the post office.

Jenna isn't keen on the idea of going anywhere today, but I'm not sure how long I can stay Nice Mummy if we don't get fresh air. This is my first full day on my own with them in nearly two weeks and I'm determined not to ruin it by being hysterical. Even though when I woke up this morning I could hear little voices downstairs and that turned out to be the children eating tonight's surprise pudding for their breakfasts...

And lastly, can I say one more time that I am REALLY SICK of being told that the best way for me to stop being depressed would be to send the children to nursery/wean Morgan/stop babywearing/slow down. It's these things that are keeping me here, for now, and the last thing I need is to stop the things that make me feel I actually can do this, do at least *something* the way I want to. And can you imagine me dealing with depression PLUS hormonal low from weaning??

Winter crafty stuff

Well I've been making a few more little presents, bits and pieces and playing with materials. I'm not going to post alll of the pictures lol, but a couple that I really like (and first attempts of things too).



The cute little bunny was for a friend's little one, but he's the nicest little scrap-rabbit I've made in years so obviously I have to show him off. I've made a couple of similar ones this week for other little people I know.



I'm quite impressed with this - basically one of my cocoon babies, but with clothes and a beard. I wanted a Father Winter for the season table, and thought he came out quite nicely really. My felting is slightly less successful on the whole than my sewing lol, so this is the best I could do.

There's something really whole and positive that comes out of making something from nothing. At a time when I mostly doubt my parenting skills and mostly feel down about what I can do, I can make things with my hands and just for a moment put aside everything else. Things that don't ask anything of me, but make me feel just a little bit less hopeless and helpless - because, really, what the crafts are all about is the joy of the people recieving them.

I guess this is occupational therapy for the depressed mama, right? The children have been gone during the day (out with grandparents) for three days now (something else to feel guilty about but knowing that it would be so much worse if I was continuing to let them be hurt by my mood swings and helpless crying). Morgan has been back to nurse at night. Tomorrow they come home for real, and to be honest I'm terrified of a repeat of last week, no matter how much I think I've worked through these last couple of days by myself.

A shoe! Praise the Lord, we found the lost shoe!

Yes, Jenna has two shoes again!! That fit her!!! And they are sooo cleeean, I'm a bit freakishly parent-y about puddle jumping in fact because the shoes are SO PINK!

If anyone is interested in such minuitae, the missing shoe had been hidden in the dressing up box and although we'd been through it three times we hadn't spotted it. Maybe there's too much in the dressing up box. Or maybe there's too much pink in the dressing up box. Hey, I have a pink-obsessed four, against ALL of my own preferences.

In the meantime, I saw a doctor who did just what I thought she would and listened for about thirty seconds before printing me out a prescription for antidepressents. Which I still haven't decided what I'm going to do about. But Martin's work have agreed to pay him for the entire week he has had off, and that's one more subject for praise since they don't actually have to. And the baby kicked today and I got that excited feeling back, just for a moment, that I really really want to meet this baby, and it isn't just one more thing to demand energy from me when I don't have it after all - it's a real person and it's going to be OK.

Presents and parcels

More things arrived with my mail this week (yes, apart from an unpaid bill reminder and lots of junk flyers that the children spent a happy hour cutting to shreds and sticking together - the flyers, not the bill)...

Lots and lots of baby clothes from Gina (thankyou so much), and a lovely maternity top (which isn't in the picture because I wore it that day!), and some seeds, and a green kids book. Also arrived, a book from the GP Lets scheme which I read right away and found very helpful (thankyou Laura!).



Then a friend dropped off this birthday present (yup, I'm now 24) and my dad took me out for lunch, and bought some books I've wanted for a while. :)



And here are Martin and Morgan on my birthday, heading back to Emma and Chris's house for a while. Jenna is in Emma's arms in the distance!

Mummy is sad, therefore...

...mummy needs cake! Four year old logic at work!



I like four year old logic.

Therapy

aka What Happens When Sarah is Hiding From the Children...





Soap making! SLS soap base from Anne at www.summernaturals.co.uk (and some other lovely ingredients too, dead sea salt for more Christmas presents, calendula petals, essential oils...).

I've also been sewing and making jewellery a LOT. Anything rather than cry right now to be honest...

A quick post

Still here, hanging in there. Martin has taken a couple of days off work to make sure I'm not on my own with the children, it really frightened him to come home and see me so lost. He said that if work docked him pay we'd just find a way to cope, or try to claim income support to make up the difference (since we're already on such a low income). Thankfully that doesn't look likely; his boss sent him home early and told him not to come back until he's sure I'm OK.

I started taking some pre-natal vitamins with omega 3, and extra calcium/magnesium, and I'm already sleeping a bit better than I was, but... No quick fixes, I know. And that's it, for now. The good things will still be good things when I can see them again.

*deep breath* Difficult Confession Time

I know I've done a good job at hiding it, good enough to keep it from myself anyway, so please don't be concerned that you missed some big neon sign or that you perhaps could have been the one to help me sort it out. It doesn't work that way, you can't take responsibility for somebody else's mental state, that way madness lies.

Yes, the D Word is Back. I am depressed. Say it like it's an AA meeting. I'm Sarah and I'm clinically depressed. Excuse the sarcasm, that's a result of giving myself a major headache and then crying for roughly ten hours for no reason I know of apart from feeling frightened and out of control for having admitted I can't fix this on my own.

Until the last two or three weeks I hadn't felt like this for four years. I have no obvious trigger this time either - I suppose being ill for so long, knowing that I'm not eating very well still, pregnancy hormones, those things won't help, but - it isn't the children, the pregnancy, a big problem in my life, a relationship crisis. It's just I suppose that this illness can sometimes creep back so slowly it's hard to spot until it's too late.

I read some things yesterday that finally helped me to see that I'm not helping anyone or anything by soldiering on and not accepting that I'm having problems. I'm trying to decide how to move forwards and what I can do to get well again.

And I'm sorry for dumping this all here (again) - I'm not in need of the right response that will make it OK, or permission to be honest (I got that from a few of you all through yesterday, and I'm sure you will never know which of you it was that helped me to see what is going on in my life but THANKYOU).

Baby Plans!

This is what *would* be a birth plan, except it's for us as a family really not a list of stuff for healthcare providers. There are probably only a couple of things on here that I will need to share with my midwives when they arrive for the birth, and those will be written up especially just in case I need to transfer and have something to wave at people and say "I did THINK about this, I do KNOW what I want!"

Anyway, I hope you don't mind me sharing, or worry that I'm getting caught up with a perfect ideal and am not prepared for changes of plan. :) I'm actually more comfortable than I've ever been with everything being out of control and going out of the window, to my huge surprise. Anyhow, random thoughts.

Pregnancy

- I want to dance more, meditate more, have fun with having a bump more!
- I want to appreciate every moment, start making a baby box right already, take more pictures of me when pregnant, and not fear getting attached.
- I want a celebration of some kind with my women friends, for which occasion I want to henna my belly and have it on display. I don't want gifts and fuss, I want prayer and community and intimacy.
- I want to avoid any testing at all apart from urine strips. This includes the doppler, which I'd prefer the MW only use infrequently, and the GTT which I do NOT want. We will not scan unless any problem is detected by other means, or if I have bleeding and can't endure waiting it out.
- I want to make things for the baby, booties and clothes and things with love in every stitch. I want to avoid spending time with catalogues and in baby shops, where I will only be tempted to spend money on junk, and have private rants at the anti-child culture I'm supporting with such purchases anyway. I want to create things with a sense of fun and lots of colour!
- I want to massage my bump and talk to it every day. I want to remind myself of the life I carry and dwell on it. I want to encourage the children to talk to the baby, and to pray together for it.

Labour

- I want to set myself a labour project to do when I am pacing and worrying. I don't want to know what time it is or how long the contractions are. I will make sure no clocks are available to me!
- I want to decorate the living room for the birth, with soft fabrics and big pictures. I want to light candles and burn essential oils and make everything feel *mine*.
- My birth companion will be Martin, and I trust him to field difficult questions and to know how best to consult with me when I'm feeling fragile and/or spaced out.
- I want Jenna to be there, woken up if necessary, with my mum as her attendant. I want her to feel useful and included, and be treated patiently and respectfully - and to be taken out for a treat or other distraction if she is finding it hard going.
- I want to delay getting into the pool for longer and not be too afraid of the pain to walk around more. I want to go with the flow of the contractions and be more aware of the path I am taking rather than feeling that I am performing for better or worse. I want to sing and dance in labour if I feel able, and for nobody to ask me how things are going or if I'm OK.
- I want to have Martin write down times so that I can have a lasting record, and take pictures, but I will not organise anything myself - I don't want to be told about progression at all either unless I ask.
- I don't mind the doppler being used when I'm in the pool, and when the midwives arrive, but I don't want the readings to be trusted over and above my own instincts about how we are doing. I want minimal checking and will not require a dialation check unless I feel things are very very slow to progress and need some encouragement. I want to be encouraged that whatever is happening is happening for a reason and my body is doing its job.
- I want someone to listen when I rant and just validate not evaluate. I want my experience to be shared and to be valued, not dismissed because I'm being silly (and in advanced labour, I will expect to be silly/childish/spaced out/wierdly philosophical).
- I want people to remember just to ask yes or no questions, and not bother me when I'm getting on with it. I want a peaceful room with peaceful people, and for Martin to protect it if necessary by asking people to leave.
- I want to be reminded that when I panic it's because things are further on than I think and I'm probably transitionning already.
- I want to NOT push if I can manage to stop myself, and I want to not talk about it. Anyone who says, "breathe" or "push" probably needs to leave the room lest they incur the wrath of the Birthing Mama. "Yes, that's it, keep going until you're ready to stop, work with your body, you're doing great!" is probably OK.

The First Moments

- I want nobody to talk as I deliver, and no bustle in the room. I want time and space.
- I want a picture taken in the pool, as soon as possible without a fuss made about it.
- I want to leave the cord intact and deliver the placenta in the water. If someone else needs to hold the baby I want Martin to get in the pool with us or hold the baby close to me by leaning over the side.
- I want a full lotus birth to be the *assumed* position, and anything else to happen because I suggested it at the time - not because of anyone else. I want to trust the route of non-intervention at this stage as at every other, and not to actively do anything that can and will happen in its own sweet time.
- I want to not be hurried to dress, to dress the baby, to feed the baby, to weigh the baby, to get out of the pool, etc. I know how to keep a newborn baby warm, even when I AM on a birthing high, and any observations can be made just fine without pestering me or trying to get me to move.
- I want the baby to find its own way to the nipple. I want to lie back and be together, with the placenta draining in a colander on the side next to us, and I don't want to move from my sofa for some time. If the baby needs any help, that can happen on my tummy if possible.
- I want to not bother with weighing if there is no health concern, though reserve the right to be female and change my mind out of the merest idle curiosity.
- I want a celebration meal, a cake, an occasion - and just a few hours worth of babymoon.

The Baby

- I want to avoid helping the baby to latch on pre-emptively, and for Trust to be my first assumption rather than thinking that because my other babies needed help this one will.
- I want to not have the baby out of arms at all except for being in our bed - I want to not even spend a second worrying about putting it down. I hope that nobody will suggest otherwise.
- I want to not use baby holding devices, not even try to. I don't even want a buggy or bouncer or cot in the first place. If the baby doesn't touch the floor for the first few months, that's fine by me. Again, I can suggest these things for myself if the baby and I are needing something other than each other.
- I want to wear fewer clothes under the slings, even make a babywearing coat if I need to, to get more skin to skin time. I want to EC again and feel that I have no need to push it, rush it, or make it work perfectly.
- I want to do more baby yoga, and more baby swimming, and both of those sooner and with greater confidence. I want to try back carries sooner, and generally handle my baby with less fear.

If you read all of that, all credit to you lol.

Oops...

There are many many reasons I love having my four year old around.

Here's one for you... She's the friend you always wished you had as a teen, you know ladies, the one who would gently but totally honestly tell you if you were making a fool of yourself? I had those friends then, but sometimes I obviously still REALLY need one.

On the bus, she leant over and whispered something in a conspirital tone and a half-amused-half-horrified expression. I didn't catch it. "What was that, sweetie?" Still in a whisper, but with greater urgency and a bigger grin... "Mummy, you're showing your boobies!"

I buttoned my cardigan up promptly. And remembered why sometimes that kind of honesty is JUST what you need.