Excatly one year ago, I saw those two pink lines come up and found out you were on your way. I thought, then, that that was the best day of my life. Then I saw you on a little TV screen, 20 weeks after you were concieved, and feel head-over-heels for you. I thought, then, that that was the best day of my life. Then you were born, and, even though you ripped me in two, that WAS the best day of my life. Each day I get to know you a little better, each day your little face becomes more familiar. Each day the simple things you do — a smile, a squeal, a laugh, a roll — amaze me.
Today, at 15 weeks of age, you weigh 7 kg and are 65 cm long. You've grown so quickly! You've lost that special newborn smell, but now you just smell of "you", and that's just as good, if not better.
Thanks for coming into our lives. I hope you are pleased with the parents you ended up with!
Mama xxx
Monday, April 28, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Rolling...
"rolling, wheels go rolling, round and round and round..."
Otis rolled over today! I'll never forget the date — ANZAC Day. To think, a year ago, he was already growing inside me, unbeknownst to us! I can't believe how far he/we have come.
Anyway, it was quite funny. I took him into Mum's room to "practise" rolling. I lay him down on his tummy, and at that very moment Mum sat on the bed. As it dipped a little, he, without any intention or effort, rolled over. I got all excited, until Mum pointed out what had happened. We put him back onto his tummy, and in a matter of seconds, he was on his back, smiling proudly, looking a little shell-shocked! I can't get over how overwhelmingly proud I felt. I feel pathetic even typing that, but I really did feel incredibly pride.
We made him do it again, and again, and again. I think he rolled 8 times in a row! He even rolled to both his left and his right, loving to show off his new-found skill.
Of course, all that rolling action resulted in a fairly significant spew!
Otis rolled over today! I'll never forget the date — ANZAC Day. To think, a year ago, he was already growing inside me, unbeknownst to us! I can't believe how far he/we have come.
Anyway, it was quite funny. I took him into Mum's room to "practise" rolling. I lay him down on his tummy, and at that very moment Mum sat on the bed. As it dipped a little, he, without any intention or effort, rolled over. I got all excited, until Mum pointed out what had happened. We put him back onto his tummy, and in a matter of seconds, he was on his back, smiling proudly, looking a little shell-shocked! I can't get over how overwhelmingly proud I felt. I feel pathetic even typing that, but I really did feel incredibly pride.
We made him do it again, and again, and again. I think he rolled 8 times in a row! He even rolled to both his left and his right, loving to show off his new-found skill.
Of course, all that rolling action resulted in a fairly significant spew!
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Update...
Otis has been... PERFECT. There's simply no other word for it. Although, now that I've said that out loud — or rather, typed it in black and white — he's bound to have a bad day. Anyway, all he seems to do these days is "talk" and giggle and smile and sleep. It's so lovely. It's heaven. When he's like this, I can barely remember the bad times! Luckily I've documented it all...
Yesterday we walked up to Coles to get some ingredients for dinner. He was in the Baby Bjorn, but facing out for the first time. I think he thought he was actually conversing with complete strangers! He just went on, and on and on, barely stopping to take a breath. He made so much noise! I think we've got a chatterbox on our hands.
He's ALMOST sitting up now. He can sit quite well if I prop him up between my legs, he only very slightly rests on me for support. I think it will be any day now. He's also trying to roll, but not having much success. He gets really frustrated... It's as if he's trying to take off!
His new routine — I hesitate to call it that, for fear it will all fall apart — goes something like this:
6:00 — Wake, feed, play, read books
7:00-8:00 — Sleep
8:00-9:00 — Shower, feed
9:00-11:00 — Go for a walk, have a nap in the pram or BB
11:30 — Feed
Midday-2:00 — Sleep
2:30 — Feed
3:00-5:30 — Play, have a bath
5:30 — Feed
6:30 — Top-up feed, bedtime
1:00 — Wake for a feed, get in with Mum and Dad
3:00 — Wake for a feed
4:30 — Squirm and grunt and fart and belch, whilst still half asleep
Yesterday we walked up to Coles to get some ingredients for dinner. He was in the Baby Bjorn, but facing out for the first time. I think he thought he was actually conversing with complete strangers! He just went on, and on and on, barely stopping to take a breath. He made so much noise! I think we've got a chatterbox on our hands.
He's ALMOST sitting up now. He can sit quite well if I prop him up between my legs, he only very slightly rests on me for support. I think it will be any day now. He's also trying to roll, but not having much success. He gets really frustrated... It's as if he's trying to take off!
His new routine — I hesitate to call it that, for fear it will all fall apart — goes something like this:
6:00 — Wake, feed, play, read books
7:00-8:00 — Sleep
8:00-9:00 — Shower, feed
9:00-11:00 — Go for a walk, have a nap in the pram or BB
11:30 — Feed
Midday-2:00 — Sleep
2:30 — Feed
3:00-5:30 — Play, have a bath
5:30 — Feed
6:30 — Top-up feed, bedtime
1:00 — Wake for a feed, get in with Mum and Dad
3:00 — Wake for a feed
4:30 — Squirm and grunt and fart and belch, whilst still half asleep
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Lactation Cookies!
Yay... An excuse to eat something delicious. I have had to work very hard to express a sufficient amount of milk in order to be away from Otis for a 24 hour period. Tomorrow we are attending Renee and Todd's wedding, so he'll be spending the afternoon with his Nana, and then having a sleepover at Grandma and Poppy's! Don't know how excited he is about all this, but the exclamation marks may give you some idea of how thrilled Phil and I are about having some time out from being parents. I love, love, love him, but it will be such a relief to have some space.
Anyway, back to my EBM mission... I discovered this recipe:
--------
Lactation Boosting Oatmeal, Chocolate Chip & Linseed Cookies
1 cup butter or margarine
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
4 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons linseed meal
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
3 cups oats, thick cut if you can get them
1 cup (or more I use a whole packet J) chocolate chips (milk or white chocolate both taste yummy)
2 tablespoons brewer’s yeast (be generous)
Preheat oven to 180c (fan forced) 200? (regular oven). Mix together 2 tbs of linseed meal and water. Set aside. Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs one at a time, mix well. Stir linseed mixture and add with vanilla to the butter mix. Beat until blended. Sift together dry ingredients, except oats and chips. Add to butter mixture. Stir in oats, then chips. Scoop or drop onto non stick baking sheet, or one lined with baking paper. Bake approximately 12 minutes.
Linseed meal can be found in the health food aisle of your supermarket or at health food stores. Brewer’s yeast can be found at health food stores. It MUST be brewer’s yeast - NO substitutions!
--------
So far so good... Other than the possibility of packing on the pounds, I am happy to munch on these morning, noon and night. Otis had some really long night feeds last night (usually only goes for 5 or so minutes during the night, last night did a 30 minute feed), so I think they are working. Longer, better feeds = fewer feeds and more sleep!
I am planning on making these for all those lovely expectant mothers when their babies arrive! (Yes, Ally, Lan, Emily, I'm talking about you...)
Anyway, back to my EBM mission... I discovered this recipe:
--------
Lactation Boosting Oatmeal, Chocolate Chip & Linseed Cookies
1 cup butter or margarine
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
4 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons linseed meal
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
3 cups oats, thick cut if you can get them
1 cup (or more I use a whole packet J) chocolate chips (milk or white chocolate both taste yummy)
2 tablespoons brewer’s yeast (be generous)
Preheat oven to 180c (fan forced) 200? (regular oven). Mix together 2 tbs of linseed meal and water. Set aside. Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs one at a time, mix well. Stir linseed mixture and add with vanilla to the butter mix. Beat until blended. Sift together dry ingredients, except oats and chips. Add to butter mixture. Stir in oats, then chips. Scoop or drop onto non stick baking sheet, or one lined with baking paper. Bake approximately 12 minutes.
Linseed meal can be found in the health food aisle of your supermarket or at health food stores. Brewer’s yeast can be found at health food stores. It MUST be brewer’s yeast - NO substitutions!
--------
So far so good... Other than the possibility of packing on the pounds, I am happy to munch on these morning, noon and night. Otis had some really long night feeds last night (usually only goes for 5 or so minutes during the night, last night did a 30 minute feed), so I think they are working. Longer, better feeds = fewer feeds and more sleep!
I am planning on making these for all those lovely expectant mothers when their babies arrive! (Yes, Ally, Lan, Emily, I'm talking about you...)
Monday, April 14, 2008
The Mask of Motherhood
My clever Mum gave me a copy of Susan Maushart's The Mask of Motherhood in the early stages of my pregnancy. I've read chapters here and there, when appropriate — I read the stuff on pregnancy when I was pregnant, for instance, and the section on birth just before my due date — and I simply cannot recommend it highly enough:
"When a woman becomes a mother, her relationships, her professional identity and her sense of self will never be the same again. The fact is, the presence of children does not simply add to the lives of their parents, it transforms those lives completely.
The precise nature of this transformation remains ONE OF THE BEST KEPT SECRETS OF CONTEMPORARY ADULT LIFE, shrouded in a conspiracy of silence..."
When I was 8 weeks pregnant and throwing up breakfast, lunch and dinner, I recall being livid as to just how unprepared I had been. My ignorance seemed so incredibly unfair. I just kept wondering why nobody had told me that pregnancy wasn't all serene smiles and anticipatory belly rubs. I felt hideous — nauseous ALL DAY LONG, pimply, hairy, sore and completely drained. On top of that there was the ever-present anxiety, the checking-my-undies-for-blood moments. I was actually really angry at my Mum, angry that she had, for some reason, kept me in the dark. Why weren't the horrors of pregnancy more widely acknowledged?
The same feelings pertain to my experience of the early days of parenting. All we ever hear in the media, all we ever see on TV or in films, or read about in novels, is that mothering provides women with joy upon joy upon joy. We are told that being a Mum will change our lives, but we never take it literally. I guess this is another of my motivations for writing this blog. Since it began, it appears to have garnered a small, loyal following, largely of childless women who seemingly hope to catch a glimpse of what being a mother is REALLY like, or mothers who feel that their own feelings of frustration and fear are somehow validated by my public documentation of mine. Now that I know, first-hand, I feel duty-bound to "tell it like it is" — it's really and truly extremely challenging. There is the birth itself — horrific, don't believe anyone who says they enjoy giving birth, what an absolute load of garbage! — then the feeding — no, for many women it doesn't "just happen" — the lack of sleep, the crying, the screaming, the damaged and unattractive post-baby body, the lack of time to oneself, the — hopefully temporary!! — deterioration of your relationship with your partner — and, of course, the consistent self-doubt.
For some reason, for many reasons — see Maushart's book for an in-depth exploration of these — mothers don't share with mothers-to-be the difficulties that come with the birth of a new baby. There is a definite pressure to appear to be coping — or, more accurately, to appear to be thriving, to be in a permanent state of babymoon bliss. It's just not like that! I'm not saying there aren't beautiful, wonderous moments. There are. If there weren't, mothers and fathers would have the good sense not to go back for more. But there are days, or even weeks, when these are few and far between. When you're stuck in traffic and your baby screeches so loud and long that he starts to lose his voice, it's hard to feel joy. More realistically, in such circumstances, you feel despair. As Maushart writes, "Although you'll never read about it in the glossy magazines or the expert texts, the feeling of being buried alive by early motherhood is now a commonplace experience" (201).
But then you have an afternoon like the one I've just had. You sit with your baby in your lap and sing to him, as earnestly as possible, a bunch of daggy eighties tunes — Banarama's Shy Boy, anyone? — and elicit a series of proper, grown-up giggles from your nearly 3 month old little boy. Moments like those are better than anything else. Honestly, I'd sell my soul, give up everything I own, swim from here to New Zealand — I'd do anything just to hear Otis laugh, just to see him smile. Being a Mum, for me, is about reminding myself of those perfect pockets of one-on-one Rochelle and Otis time whenever I feel stressed and anxious and afraid that I'm failing.
"When a woman becomes a mother, her relationships, her professional identity and her sense of self will never be the same again. The fact is, the presence of children does not simply add to the lives of their parents, it transforms those lives completely.
The precise nature of this transformation remains ONE OF THE BEST KEPT SECRETS OF CONTEMPORARY ADULT LIFE, shrouded in a conspiracy of silence..."
When I was 8 weeks pregnant and throwing up breakfast, lunch and dinner, I recall being livid as to just how unprepared I had been. My ignorance seemed so incredibly unfair. I just kept wondering why nobody had told me that pregnancy wasn't all serene smiles and anticipatory belly rubs. I felt hideous — nauseous ALL DAY LONG, pimply, hairy, sore and completely drained. On top of that there was the ever-present anxiety, the checking-my-undies-for-blood moments. I was actually really angry at my Mum, angry that she had, for some reason, kept me in the dark. Why weren't the horrors of pregnancy more widely acknowledged?
The same feelings pertain to my experience of the early days of parenting. All we ever hear in the media, all we ever see on TV or in films, or read about in novels, is that mothering provides women with joy upon joy upon joy. We are told that being a Mum will change our lives, but we never take it literally. I guess this is another of my motivations for writing this blog. Since it began, it appears to have garnered a small, loyal following, largely of childless women who seemingly hope to catch a glimpse of what being a mother is REALLY like, or mothers who feel that their own feelings of frustration and fear are somehow validated by my public documentation of mine. Now that I know, first-hand, I feel duty-bound to "tell it like it is" — it's really and truly extremely challenging. There is the birth itself — horrific, don't believe anyone who says they enjoy giving birth, what an absolute load of garbage! — then the feeding — no, for many women it doesn't "just happen" — the lack of sleep, the crying, the screaming, the damaged and unattractive post-baby body, the lack of time to oneself, the — hopefully temporary!! — deterioration of your relationship with your partner — and, of course, the consistent self-doubt.
For some reason, for many reasons — see Maushart's book for an in-depth exploration of these — mothers don't share with mothers-to-be the difficulties that come with the birth of a new baby. There is a definite pressure to appear to be coping — or, more accurately, to appear to be thriving, to be in a permanent state of babymoon bliss. It's just not like that! I'm not saying there aren't beautiful, wonderous moments. There are. If there weren't, mothers and fathers would have the good sense not to go back for more. But there are days, or even weeks, when these are few and far between. When you're stuck in traffic and your baby screeches so loud and long that he starts to lose his voice, it's hard to feel joy. More realistically, in such circumstances, you feel despair. As Maushart writes, "Although you'll never read about it in the glossy magazines or the expert texts, the feeling of being buried alive by early motherhood is now a commonplace experience" (201).
But then you have an afternoon like the one I've just had. You sit with your baby in your lap and sing to him, as earnestly as possible, a bunch of daggy eighties tunes — Banarama's Shy Boy, anyone? — and elicit a series of proper, grown-up giggles from your nearly 3 month old little boy. Moments like those are better than anything else. Honestly, I'd sell my soul, give up everything I own, swim from here to New Zealand — I'd do anything just to hear Otis laugh, just to see him smile. Being a Mum, for me, is about reminding myself of those perfect pockets of one-on-one Rochelle and Otis time whenever I feel stressed and anxious and afraid that I'm failing.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
I am an awful mother...
I got really frustrated and just screamed at him. I really, really screamed. I am so horrible. I really hate myself right now.
How can I yell at him? He's a helpless, ignorant infant. I love him so much, but sometimes I just become enraged. I know it's not really at him, it's at myself... I get angry when I don't see results that match my efforts. I try so hard to do everything properly and by the book, but sometimes there are no answers, no remedies. And it's all so unexpected, so impossible to predict.
I tried for well over an hour to get him to sleep. He wasn't even whinging, he was just wide awake, yet he had to have been exhausted as he hadn't slept at all since early this morning. He just stared up at me, those big blue eyes blinking, wondering why he was wrapped and in bed when he wasn't even sleepy. I was simply trying to avoid another night like the one I had on Tuesday, when, as a result of not sleeping during the day, he was beside himself with exhaustion to the point that even my Dad was unable to get him down. I am forever thinking ahead, plotting and planning... I think I am probably too self-congratulatory when my scheming seemingly does work. It's probably all a fluke. It is becoming more and more apparent that Otis is the boss...
How can I yell at him? He's a helpless, ignorant infant. I love him so much, but sometimes I just become enraged. I know it's not really at him, it's at myself... I get angry when I don't see results that match my efforts. I try so hard to do everything properly and by the book, but sometimes there are no answers, no remedies. And it's all so unexpected, so impossible to predict.
I tried for well over an hour to get him to sleep. He wasn't even whinging, he was just wide awake, yet he had to have been exhausted as he hadn't slept at all since early this morning. He just stared up at me, those big blue eyes blinking, wondering why he was wrapped and in bed when he wasn't even sleepy. I was simply trying to avoid another night like the one I had on Tuesday, when, as a result of not sleeping during the day, he was beside himself with exhaustion to the point that even my Dad was unable to get him down. I am forever thinking ahead, plotting and planning... I think I am probably too self-congratulatory when my scheming seemingly does work. It's probably all a fluke. It is becoming more and more apparent that Otis is the boss...
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Oti's First Holiday!
Well, we are back from Noosa. Otis was such a gem and really enjoyed his first holiday! My seaside fantasy, however —wherein he happily splashes his little feet in the water and plays in the sand with a big, photo-worthy smile on his face — didn't eventuate. He HATED the water! The lower lip trembled, the face went bright red... He just cried and cried. I think Phil was a little too eager, perhaps, and didn't give him a chance to gradually get used to the chill. Not that the water was really cold! That's the thing I love about Noosa — the water is always such a perfect temperature. Perhaps not for babies though... Anyway, he sure looked the part, in his Monster Baby white and black skeleton rashie, bright red swim nappy and floppy, stripey hat!
I had some really mixed feelings when we were up there. On the one hand, it was fantastic to have 16 pairs of hands to assist me in the day-to-day care of my boy. There was always someone around to entertain him, read to him, sing him to sleep, change his pooey nappy, take him in the bath... The only thing no one else can do for him is breast feed him, of course! The down side to all of this was twofold — not only did I miss having him to myself, I also felt bizarrely guilt-ridden. I felt as if I were neglecting him by way of palming him off to others, having Mum put him down to sleep every night, taking him down to Dad for cuddles in the morning. I think I have internalised the belief that mother and baby should never be apart... Mothering is a 24/7 job, and I felt as if I were taking a sickie. It's silly and illogical, but I couldn't shake the feeling. It really is a wonderful thing, the love his extended family has for him, and I want so much to promote that and feed that.
I was nervous about the plane trips, but he didn't really make much of a fuss. He was asleep before take off on the way up there, but got a bit ratty and whingey about half-way through the flight. The stress must have been all over my face, as the lovely lady sitting next to me did her best to reassure me. "They were all babies too, once", she reminded me, referring to the other, slightly disgruntled passengers. He did like being changed in the plane's toilet... Wall-to-wall mirrors, perfect for the babe who loves the sight of his own gorgeous self! He didn't make even a whimper on the way home... But once we were home? The devil possessed him!
On both Monday and Tuesday he cried for about an hour straight in the morning. On Monday I had him in his pram, which is usually one of his favourite places, and he put on the biggest, holding-his-breath, red-faced, streaming-tears performance I've ever witnessed. I got him out for a cuddle in the middle of Coles, only to have an old woman label him "spoilt". Thanks! Way to make a suffering new mother, feel better! He slept in only short spurts and was whingey and unhappy all day and all that night. I spent the day in analytical overdrive, trying to work out the cause, blaming myself, consulting my Mum.
Spent the day with Mum and Lani on Tuesday, and his temperament was similarly sooky. The only thing that made it bearable was the fact that Mum had no idea how to console him either — so hopefully I wasn't to blame! It took me 2 hours to get him down to sleep last night, but when it finally came, what a deep sleep it was... From Mum's bassinette, to the car seat, to his own bed — it was flawless transfer, he slept through it all, in total for over 7 HOURS! Woke at 2:30, asleep again by 3 after a lengthier than normal night feed. Woke at 5:30, fed, and then slept from 7 'til 8. Played happily, had a shower, and has been asleep since 10 (it's after midday)... The relief is incomparable! I am so happy!!
My current parenting dilemma pertains to the newly cold weather... Now that Otis sleeps, in accordance with SIDS recommendations, on his back, he tends to break free fairly easily from his wrap, and his little hands get so cold. I bought some nice, cosy ribbed jersey fabric yesterday to make a couple of massive wraps. Here's hoping I wrap him so tight that he can't escape!
I had some really mixed feelings when we were up there. On the one hand, it was fantastic to have 16 pairs of hands to assist me in the day-to-day care of my boy. There was always someone around to entertain him, read to him, sing him to sleep, change his pooey nappy, take him in the bath... The only thing no one else can do for him is breast feed him, of course! The down side to all of this was twofold — not only did I miss having him to myself, I also felt bizarrely guilt-ridden. I felt as if I were neglecting him by way of palming him off to others, having Mum put him down to sleep every night, taking him down to Dad for cuddles in the morning. I think I have internalised the belief that mother and baby should never be apart... Mothering is a 24/7 job, and I felt as if I were taking a sickie. It's silly and illogical, but I couldn't shake the feeling. It really is a wonderful thing, the love his extended family has for him, and I want so much to promote that and feed that.
I was nervous about the plane trips, but he didn't really make much of a fuss. He was asleep before take off on the way up there, but got a bit ratty and whingey about half-way through the flight. The stress must have been all over my face, as the lovely lady sitting next to me did her best to reassure me. "They were all babies too, once", she reminded me, referring to the other, slightly disgruntled passengers. He did like being changed in the plane's toilet... Wall-to-wall mirrors, perfect for the babe who loves the sight of his own gorgeous self! He didn't make even a whimper on the way home... But once we were home? The devil possessed him!
On both Monday and Tuesday he cried for about an hour straight in the morning. On Monday I had him in his pram, which is usually one of his favourite places, and he put on the biggest, holding-his-breath, red-faced, streaming-tears performance I've ever witnessed. I got him out for a cuddle in the middle of Coles, only to have an old woman label him "spoilt". Thanks! Way to make a suffering new mother, feel better! He slept in only short spurts and was whingey and unhappy all day and all that night. I spent the day in analytical overdrive, trying to work out the cause, blaming myself, consulting my Mum.
Spent the day with Mum and Lani on Tuesday, and his temperament was similarly sooky. The only thing that made it bearable was the fact that Mum had no idea how to console him either — so hopefully I wasn't to blame! It took me 2 hours to get him down to sleep last night, but when it finally came, what a deep sleep it was... From Mum's bassinette, to the car seat, to his own bed — it was flawless transfer, he slept through it all, in total for over 7 HOURS! Woke at 2:30, asleep again by 3 after a lengthier than normal night feed. Woke at 5:30, fed, and then slept from 7 'til 8. Played happily, had a shower, and has been asleep since 10 (it's after midday)... The relief is incomparable! I am so happy!!
My current parenting dilemma pertains to the newly cold weather... Now that Otis sleeps, in accordance with SIDS recommendations, on his back, he tends to break free fairly easily from his wrap, and his little hands get so cold. I bought some nice, cosy ribbed jersey fabric yesterday to make a couple of massive wraps. Here's hoping I wrap him so tight that he can't escape!
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Square one...
I feel as if I am back there again. For the past two nights Otis has not slept for longer than two hours at a time. I am exhausted, not only because my sleep has been so interrupted, but also because I'm coming down with something... Sore throat, runny nose, husky voice, aching head... It's not easy being the happy-go-lucky, energetic, entertaining Mum he's used to. Luckily Baby Songs came in the mail today, so I popped that on for 20 minutes to give my throat a rest. I love hearing all those songs from my childhood — well, it wasn't really MY childhood, I associate those songs with Gabby and Bart as babies and toddlers. They're really lovely, if you can look past the daggy 80s clothing and styling, in that they teach babies how to deal positively with a whole range of experiences — toilet training, playing, animals, sleeping, separation anxiety, walking, sharing, eating... The Americanisms are a little painful— "Today I Took My Diaper Off" is an example! Anyway, obviously Otis is too young to understand the words, but he really enjoys all the music and colour. He really does love to hear someone sing. He is particularly partial to my voice, I usually get a massive grin within seconds of starting a performance of "Oh Happy Day" from Sister Act II, or "New Soul" by Yael Naim!!
I feel silly because even though I know to expect the unexpected, I think I was smugly convinced that my fantastic parenting skills had moulded Otis into an easy, obedient little boy. Hahahahahaha!! The joke is on me. He is entirely in control. As a result, my hair is a rat's nest, I haven't even brushed my teeth, and I had to forgo Mothers' Group this morning. I sat on the toilet this morning at about 3 and just put my head in my hands and cried. When I got back to him, it was as if he knew he'd upset me, and he just smiled and smiled, and then went to sleep next to me.
We decided this morning that he is Nazi — definitely has the requisite Aryan appearance, and constantly makes these bizarre hand signals, holding his clenched fist up towards the light. He's got the dictatorship thing down pat too. Hopefully we'll be able to have some influence on his politics and can steer him away from this type of thinking...
Thankfully we are heading up to Noosa tomorrow night, and Mum and Dad can help ease the load.
I feel silly because even though I know to expect the unexpected, I think I was smugly convinced that my fantastic parenting skills had moulded Otis into an easy, obedient little boy. Hahahahahaha!! The joke is on me. He is entirely in control. As a result, my hair is a rat's nest, I haven't even brushed my teeth, and I had to forgo Mothers' Group this morning. I sat on the toilet this morning at about 3 and just put my head in my hands and cried. When I got back to him, it was as if he knew he'd upset me, and he just smiled and smiled, and then went to sleep next to me.
We decided this morning that he is Nazi — definitely has the requisite Aryan appearance, and constantly makes these bizarre hand signals, holding his clenched fist up towards the light. He's got the dictatorship thing down pat too. Hopefully we'll be able to have some influence on his politics and can steer him away from this type of thinking...
Thankfully we are heading up to Noosa tomorrow night, and Mum and Dad can help ease the load.
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