As our little tiny humans grow, documenting and celebrating all the firsts and wonderful milestones is all the craze.

I’d like to change this up for the sake of talking about myself….. Here’s the last two months of my life through a series of Milestones:



This unfortunately for me, happens far too frequently for what I am comfortable admitting.  I honestly believe baby Anna pissing at me is hand in hand with her judging my every move.  I go to change her wet or dirty nappy and it’s as if she holds a little bit in the tank for the moment after i crack the nappy and to add insult to injury this entertains her and she starts smiling like she’s just thought of the funniest thing.  Thankfully, there’s no doodle (hose) but it still gets a little ‘height’ and usually happens as I’ve got the clean nappy ready to close up.  Little do i know she’s probably got shares in Baby Love nappies and is looking out for the dividends!


So, here’s the thing with this one.  Anna is actually quite kind to us in the evenings – she’s already cracked the 11 hour record.  Thanks, Anna.  It’s baby Bill who is the night time terrorist.  Before we go to bed i creep into his room and move his (heavy) body from the end of the bed back up right to the top and say a little prayer (to no one in particular because religion confuses me) that he will stay put until daylight.  It fails me on a nightly. Sometimes when i go into his room to fix up his position I’ll have to freeze like a statue because he wakes up a little…. i can see him looking at me like I’m some creep staring at him whilst he’s sleeping, (pretending to be) like a statue… Most of the time I am safe and he’ll slumber back into dream land, but only for a few hours after which time he’ll waltz on into our room to finish the night between Mum and Dad….  Call it lazy, call it shit parenting, call it what ever you like – at that hour Jim and I don’t have the energy to walk him back to his room and go through the “go to sleep” regime until he’s out cold (which will take up to 40 minutes), so 9 nights out of 10 either one of us will be kicked in the head or our face used as a pillow (oh, did i mention Billy’s sleeping preference is side ways?).  Then in the still of the night or early morning, we will hear the biggest adult like fart – loud enough to wake us from a deep sleep, and a little sleepy voice saying PARDON…..   Thanks little Bill, you legend!

IMG_4523So, this was an anti-climate event. For the best part of 40 weeks all I could do was think about a tasty (alcoholic) beverage….. I’d even go so far as to sniff other people’s drinks and relish in the fumes for a tiny second.  I had these dreams of me cracking my first drink the moment after having the baby taken from my body – just taking swigs whilst being stitched back up…. That obviously didn’t happen – apparently no glass allowed in the operating room, or something…..  Anyway, when i was ready to have my first legitimate taste of a beer and wine, i could only have just that – just the taste and I was over it, what a waste!  Slowly I am able to drink more from my glass, but Jim is LOVING it because I’ll have a sip of beer and say “you have this”, or hand him my glass and say, “there you go, I’m done”.  It’s not the worst thing in the world, it was just totally and utterly not what i was hoping for….


I WOKE UP half way through changing Anna’s nappy one night.  How does that even happen? What did i do before that?  Was changing a nappy the only thing i did in my sleep??? It was a weird experience.

In early days, when I had Anna in the bassinet beside me in the bedroom I would feed her whilst sitting on the edge of my bed, that was until i nearly dropped her as i dozed off mid feed…. Not very safe. SO GLAD I DIDN’T drop her.  That would have been an awkward conversation to have with Jamie and the doctor!!!



Just wanted to make sure everything was still in tact…. It is…..

Jamie would agree that it was research based, but I am sure he would tell me that it was more to do with research on Marine Biology and the study of star fish….. Thanks Jim….

Probs true though, oh well, you’re welcome …… better luck next time……


I made the decision not to breast feed before Anna had even entered the world.  What I don’t understand is this – i did not have anyone touching these puppies so why do they look like i have been feeding a country for the last 10 years? WHERE DID THEY GO TO?  That’s just silly, especially when they weren’t anything to write home about before I had kids, and even when i was 40 weeks pregnant most girls in high school had bigger cans than me – i don’t care that I’m (early) 30s!! WHAT IS WITH THAT??? Excuse me whilst i just make a quick appointment with a plastic surgeon!!


Actually no… this hasn’t happened yet…. I left my dignity behind when I had Billy, and i can’t see it coming back in the foreseeable future.

We are toilet training Billy at the moment (i hate this process by the way) so last week he even came and tried to push me off the toilet so that he himself could sit there.  Come on bud, just give Mummy 1 second…. PLEAAAASE!!!


I was only saying to Jim the other night, how different our conversations are these days.  Sitting on the couch on a Saturday night and asking the random “how many pooey nappies did you change today?” question – not in a accusatory tone, in a genuinely curious tone..  I bet the kids will never ask that question about us….


I think that’s enough for the moment.

Upon reflection of the above, this is certainly not a brag book of achievements – more achievements of a survivor hahahaha WOW – I need to get out more…. without the kids….. Bless their fat little feet, I love them so much!!


Toddlers are from Jupiter

Oh look who it is, it’s that ex-pregnant lady who spent the year moaning and groaning about the shit side of growing a human inside the body.  Yes, that’s me, I’m back!

The human is now cooked and was delivered (by c-section) back in August, and she is absolutely delish – Annalise Elizabeth Culleton.

She’s just gone on 2 months old and is starting to come alive.  For the first month I relished in her sleep patterns….. pretty sure she was wishing she was back in the warmth of my broken insides and sleeping days on end – I was convinced she came out, looked around and said “mmmm I don’t like these people so if I sleep they might go away and I’ll get a better bunch of people”, thankfully she got over that (or realised we weren’t going anywhere) and started to spend more hours of the day awake.  That’s when my system was shocked into oh shit, this is what having 2 kids under 2 is like – can I crawl back into the womb? It was the same week Billy got gastro, then I got Billy’s gastro, then Annalise got my gastro, then I got Anna’s gastro.  It goes down in the books of being the shittiest 2 weeks (no pun intended) of the last 2 months.

I do like both these children though, which I guess is good for all of us involved.  Jamie and I high-five each other with the fact that we have made some bloody cute ones.  Happy about that! And if you know me, you would know that I would be honest with you if I thought otherwise too.

I have made the following observations over the past couple of months:

  1. I am not cut out to be full time stay at home mum – day in day out… It took a bit for me to realise that’s what it was – the fact that full time homemaker may not come naturally to me. I’ve stopped feeling guilty for getting excited (almost giddy) about Thursday and Friday DAYCARE DAYS!  I am not the super patient, calm, crafty mother that I thought I wanted to be.  I am almost certain our less than desirable new neighbours (we live in ConDon) refer to me as the batshit crazy woman who is always yelling at her kid…..  I wouldn’t say yelling, per say, I would much like to think of it as I spoke calmly to my cute kid for the first 403 times, telling him not to do something and those neighbours are only hearing me on the 404th time ‘telling’ him in a more clenched teeth, raised (shrill) tone.  She always appears right at the pivotal moment of me telling baby Bill stuff like “YOU’RE NOT POOING ON THE GRASS, ARE YOU? NO, STOP POOING ON THE GRASS” or “NO WILLIAM, DON’T BRING THAT HOSE IN THE HOUSE” or “YOU DON’T THROW THINGS AT YOUR SISTER”, or the most frequent question at the moment “want to do a weewee?” (we are toilet training after all…….).  I love these kids to bits, but when I’ve tried to keep them entertained (and by “them” i really only mean Billy, entertaining Anna is showing her where her hands are so she can stare at them for 2 hours – that’s easy) and happy, and at times failed miserably by the end of the day I am quite frankly fucked and have no energy to give my most enthusiastic attention to them (mainly Billy, poor little mate).  By the time Jamie gets home at about 7pm and he is still wriggling around when he should be in bed, I have to walk away because I’ve had enough.  I would give a bag of medals to all the mums and dads who have got it in them to take on full time stay at home care givers.
  2. If men are from Mars and women are from Venus – toddlers must be from Jupiter. I think i can kind of recognise how men think/feel about trying to figure out what’s going on with us women (and let’s all be honest, even us women have sometimes struggled to figure ourselves out), trying to get on the same page with a toddler is at times entertaining (early in the day), but then other times it is almost impossible and frustrating.  We are not reading the same book let-alone on the same page.  Example – this morning I made Billy porridge, a staple item on the daily menu that i know he will eat (there are only a few things on that menu at the moment).  I was working with the last bit of milk that we had, taking into account the amount i needed for my much deserved second coffee (because illicit stimulates whilst parenting are frowned upon … apparently), so there was only just enough to get the porridge consistency right.  Made it for him, put it at his table only for him to look at me like i had just shat in his kettle (he used to be polite and thank me for this stuff).  I left him to consider eating it whilst i went about my business, to come back to it still sitting in the same spot.  The consistency had changed to an even more disgusting texture – cross between clag glue and cement (is that even possible).  The spoon wasn’t budging when i tried to move it so I ASSUMED he was not interested. I thought that he would put me up for child abuse had i have tried to make him eat it, so i threw it out.  BIG MISTAKE.  Turns out, he wanted it, desperately wanted it in fact and was devastated to see that it went to the bin.    I tried to offer toast as an alternative but he was not having a bar of it.  I had to make him a fruit salad and bribe him with his favourite tv show about trains and balloons to stop the crying.  FAR OUT.  If that didn’t work, i would have considered scraping it out of the bin, and then i am sure he would have been on the phone to DOCS.  Turns out he loves cement slop.

Don’t get me wrong, I will say it again – i love these kids and I would do anything to keep them happy and healthy.  I am not not enjoying my time with them, i am actually LOVING it, and i know it will come to an end soon with me going back to work in February – i am a realist, i know that Feb is just around the corner and my days will change to spending only mornings, nights and weekends with them.  The precious moments far outweigh on the frustrating moments.  Like when Billy is caring for Anna.  If she’s stirring and starting to whinge he will try and give her a dummy – straight from his mouth, or place her empty bottle next to her gently (hey mate, the key to a woman’s heart is a full box of chocolate not an empty one, but the thought totally counted), or sitting next to her and reading to her – and by ‘reading to her’, i do mean gently placing a book on her head/face, or when i am feeding a bottle to her he’ll take the burp cloth from my shoulder to put on his (because i think he thinks that you must hold the cloth when she is held – this kid is smart because she is a spewer) and pull her over to him for a hold saying “tankooo” or “mine”…. it’s moments like those that melt my heart and i love them to pieces.

Anna is sweet as!  She’s getting her chub on and her thigh rolls are closing in on themselves – my little porker – I am not a feeder, i just tend to have fat babies!!

There are so many awesome things i love about new babies, but i have to say their jerky arms are one of the highlights – make any movement or noise whilst they’re sleeping and the little arms stretch out with hands splayed – i love that.

She is starting to smile and giggle at random shit now, i love that but when it first started happening was in the middle of the night when i would be feeding her in her room, she’d smile and at first i thought “ohhhhh, you’re so cute”, then i would notice her gaze was focused over my shoulder – that freaked me out – I was like “is someone there?” is there a spirit/ghost in the room (you know, babies are spirit animals), it got to the point that i was so freaked out (perhaps due to being a wee bit tired), that i would back up closer to the wall so that if there was ‘someone’ in the room with us i would squish them… she didn’t tend to smile at the wall so that made me feel a bit more comfortable.

She is also treating us will long sleeps at night.  We are up to 11 hours, which is so wonderful but we can’t do full celebratory dances around the house as Billy’s sleeping patterns are woeful with guaranteed nightly visits to our bed starting from about 11pm – FARK!!!!  Any sexy time (where’s that emoticon that is pissing itself laughing at the idea of sexy time – find it and put it in here) has to be done between about 8 and 9pm and i’ve got other shit to do in that time frame so …. “good night darling”….

One thing I had forgotten about little babies is the stinky hands, toes and body creases (under the neck namely).  Oh my goodness, i am forever cleaning her hand and feet jam, and i have to do it with wipes because if that shit touches your own hands you’re stuck with that – i feel as though if we were out in public and i made contact with those little bad boys people would smell that stale manky smell on me and judge the shit out of me, like i am constantly judging her.  She is still at clench fists stages so she makes it a bit hard for me to open and clean them.  This afternoon I even found long blond hair in her hands – i felt like she was having an affair with another lady – i wanted to ask her “who is she”….. brrrrt…

If i am judging her about her shit stank hands, she is judging me about basically everything else.  She has the same look Billy had as a baby and it intimidates the shit out of me, like i’ll go to give her a bottle and her eyes will be saying “um, where have you been, i’ve been waiting for at least half an hour for this”, or when i’m changing her disgusting nappy she’s saying “yeah that’s right MUM, clean that shit up – i even pushed it to the front of the nappy for you today” with her judgy little eyes…. and all i can do is apologise for the shit SHE has done…. what????  Thank goodness we have drawn the line at 2 kids, I couldn’t handle any one else judging as hard if not harder than the judgement game i play (on everyone).

Anyway, this is just a taste of the last couple of months.  I hammered you with so much pregnancy shit throughout the year i just wanted to send an update!

The Human Bed Rail

Oh here I am! long time between words, you might say.  I’ve been saving them all for this one big one.

In all honesty, I’ve not wanted to jump on and rant and rave too much as my woes are kind of first world and in light of what’s happening around us, i figure the last thing folks want to read about is some heavily pregnant chic ranting and raving about a sore pelvis and the constant need to wee.

In saying that though, let’s talk about my sore pelvis and the constant urgent feeling of needing to wee – I call it my 2 step issue.  Simple, i take 2 steps and think that I my legs are going to fall out of their sockets and this baby is going to come crashing out, just with the lack of support and pain i feel down there – and then another 2 steps makes me feel like i’m literally going to pee my pants….  4 steps and my day is basically over.

I’ve been resting this week – supposed to be my last week at work…. I did one day, i guess that’s a big deal in some countries – don’t ask me about how productive that day was, it’s all relative.

I guess you could say we had a mini ‘baby-moon’ as the fancy people call it, over the weekend.  We went to Airlie Beach to celebrate a (beautiful) family wedding.  Stayed in some fancy digs and had a jolly old time, it was just lovely.  I did feel somewhat relaxed, especially in the spa the size of my main bathroom, and the GIANT king sized bed.  I have to admit though, i think i would have relaxed a little bit more had i not have been Billy’s very own human bed rail.  This bed felt bigger than a king (only because Jimmy and I have a Queen so anything bigger feels like paradise), and even though we did take down Billy’s big boy bed guard rail, thinking we were going to plonk him on one of the other beds we realised, it was a pick your battle moment and it would have been just as easier to plonk him on the GIANT bed with us, so at least it saves the argument of who would be getting up through the night when he realised he was asleep in a strange room.  So in the middle he slept.

Got off to a good start, he was smack bang in the middle…. Then i settled in to sleep and woke up when Jimmy came home from the wedding (heavily pregnant, sober with a toddler – there was never any point staying to the end)….  I realised then what was going to happen for the rest of the night, when I was being held hostage against the baby bed rail by Billy’s feet – he was horizontal and looked OH SO COMFORTABLE whilst I was completely pinned.  We fixed that. Turned him back to how he should be….  Went back to sleep.  Woke again at some point through the night with my usual urgency to pee and realised that any movement would have interrupted the snoring toddler who was basically on me, again with me being physically pinned against this rail.  I couldnt reach out to Jamie because as i mentioned, this big bed was the size of our bedroom – I needed a megaphone to get his attention (i am just thinking about the end of Titanic, HELLLOOOOO, IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THEEEEEEERE, CAN YOU HEEEEEAAAAAR ME). In a Mother Theresa move, i risked kidney infection and utter discomfort for the sake of not interrupting my kid and tried not to think about why i needed to get up and suffered it out.

Thank goodness for the bed rail, is all i can say. Otherwise, i am sure he would have sent me packing with a pillow to the floor.  See ya Mum!

That was the story for both the nights, but it didnt affect my time in the house and it was a beautiful weekend away.

On another sleeping note relating to said (adoreable) toddler though.  He’s been a bit restless of late with teeth coming and being teased with the comfort of sleeping with the folks that since we have been back he’s wanted to come and hang out in the somewhat smaller bed with us.  I am in no phyical condition to walk him back to his room so I settle with him crashing with us, probably creating a monster but at this point lets roll with this monster and try and tame that beast later on.  Anyway, last night was no exception.  He came in at midnight.  I am pretty sure he came in with ants in his pants because he.would.not.stop.moving! Far out, i think i called him a name (I told him to stop being a dickhead at about 3am …. then apologised because obviously that’s no way to speak to a kid – but it was a little frustrating to save the VERY least).

A weird thing happened though.  Thanks to my Peter Alexander PJ pants that are super baggy (show me a sexy pair of Peter Alexander PJs – i bet you can’t) and held up by a drawstring.  I woke up, on my side, against the side of the bed (no bed rail in sight mind you), with my Son’s legs inside my baggy pants with me!! WHAT THE FECK!!!????  That’s spooning on another level!  I felt like a jungle animal carrying it’s babies on the front and back…

Then after pushing him OUT of my pj pants – later i woke to him trying to get back in them and my KNICKERS!!! GET OUT!!!!!  I told Jamie in the morning, and he’s like “pffft…. well, he was never getting into your knickers – I’ve tried – that’s not even possible”…. (Um… Jamie, that’s what got me into writing this blog, actually)…..  What’s with that though little Bill? Get out of Mummy’s pants please! Far out!

Needless to say, we were all very tired this morning and I just happened to take the day off work (again), to spend some recoup time on the comfy couch….

SO.  We are 35 and a bit weeks along now (OH JEEPERS CREEPERS – THAT’S 8 MONTHS), and given i was away for the weekend and there was a full length mirror with no messy bedroom setting behind me, i thought I would take the 2nd gut shot of the pregnancy)…  Not sure that we will be staying at any other fancy places with full length mirrors, so it might be the last….. 2 is better than none though little (big) baby – at least Mummy took 2.

Here I am in all my pregnant glory ….


I am very pleased to say too, I still have some ankle definition…. Perhaps in my next post to the world I will track down a picture of the horror stories that were my feet when I was pregnant with Billy.  I think only the pictures will provide a true representation of the state I found myself in.  If I am going to be grateful for one thing – it’s the fact that I don’t have pressure dimples on the bottoms of my feet, even when i am NOT standing on them……

There is less and less room for this baby to move around though, so any movement I am becoming distracted.  One trait i have, which is not always good is I don’t always know how to hide my facial emotions.  This becomes evident in meetings and other social situations, when my little belly mate moves around and my eyes and face show that I am FREAKING out that s/he is about to burst out through the gut like the scene in one of the Alien movies….  Pretty sure my face is similar to Sigourney Weaver’s flawless look of terror…..


Obviously, we all know (at the very least hope), this baby won’t burst out, but I’ve been dreaming alot about literally shaking it’s hand through my skin – there is seriously no room to move!!!

I pulled my favorite move on my sister again over the weekend (you know it Nat), so sweet and naive she is, I would have expected the shock of the first time around when i fooled her she wouldn’t fall for it again.  See, i have what i like to refer to it as a ‘coco-pop mole’ (it resembles a soggy coco-pop which i have to admit i have been fooled by over the years, thinking I’d spilt my breakfast on my gut and going to eat it, only to find that it was in fact connected to my body – rookie error)… So I grab for the coco-pop with a look of awe and say “oh my goodness, I can feel the baby’s toe!”, the first time around I managed to fool a room full of people – OH THE JOY it bought me….

I got Nat again with it and had her moving “the baby’s toe” around for a good 30 seconds before she paused and said “that’s the mole, isn’t it”. OH YES MA’AM IT IS!!!!  BAAAAAHAHHAHAHA – oooooh goodness! Who needs alcohol when you have a coco-pop mole i say!!!

Seriously though, every movement from this bubba is causing my stomach to distort in the most uncomfortable of ways…. I’ve managed to capture some classic movements for you…..

Here’s a foot shot (i know right, how tanned do I look)…


Oh here’s another foot shot..  (so defined)…


Oh and this one right here – this is better than any 3D shot I’ve ever had at QLD Xray – this is my bubba when we heard QLD won state of origin (again)…


This baby totally has my noes!!  Oh and yeah, check out that bling….

God I love the internet!

Anyway, I shall leave it at that for the moment.  I’ve had fun, that’s the main thing hey!

I read this week that at 35 weeks this baby is the size of a bunch of carrots, it took everything for me not to go to the vegetable draw and pull out the carrots to give them a little nurse…. I really have to get used to a light weight baby, Billy is over 15kgs and I am scared the new bubba will be too light!!!

I’m going now – but of course, check out the growing hand that is my little baby tracker.  Nearly colored in the whole area – NOT LONG TO GO!!!!



Back on the sticks…

Oh good day to you!

I’ve not been able to chat of late because of a few factors – main one being that I forgot my login password (I’d like to take this opportunity to use the Pregnancy Brain card please, Eddie – lock it in)…

Other factors include increased whinging and moaning bought on by a weeks worth of head cold action and then a further week of the gastro virus – i know right! How dare i not share these horrific details with you….!

No no, i thought it best to lay off the words whilst I was using so many F words at the time.

You’re welcome guys.

I’ve just been told that I am at about the 32 week mark at this point (have to check my app which tells me these things), and according to this app this tiny human is about the size of a florida pomelo….

What the fk is a florida pomelo, I hear you say? Glad you asked

It’s this:


That’s not me by the way, but I am glad that the demonstrated fruit is now starting to represent the size of my gut – going by the tightening of my clothes i would say the pomelo in my stomach is likened to a SUPER BIG ONE on steroids.

If my baby was born today, it would look like this:

pomelo head cat-769467.0

NAH, Just kidding! (thanks google images for a lifetime of giggles by the way).

So, with my latest growth spurt (outwards, not upwards), the pressure in my pelvic region has grown with it and the pain is back with a vengeance.  I enjoyed those pain free weeks, but I knew in my heart it was only temporary.  I’ve since given up the imaginary skipping and sand running and gone back to picturing swimming in a bath filled with pain killers.

A colleague had a giggle today and said “hahaha wouldn’t it be funny if they strapped all your belly from the bottom up to try and lift the weight”…. Ummm… that’s actually what they’ve done…  It feels as though i have a human abseiling down my body and has let go of too much of the rope and almost hanging upside down… (that totally made more sense in my head by the way)…. So anyway, back to the walking sticks we go.

We are on the home stretch now though, that being officially 8 weeks to go ….. wait…. EIGHT WEEKS? NOOOOOOOOOOO! That actually feels like a life time and i honestly don’t think my skin has any more stretching capacity in it….

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about food/snacks that contain a LOT of sugar, too much for a human if i’m honest… I’ve even been thinking a lot about drinking soft-drink – which is usually a no go zone but it’s happened….. This means i’m about to fill out more and go to a BIGGURL status!  Time to cut back on pie purchases, even though i now have a good relationship with the pie clerk (totally her official title), and she’s basically given me a gold membership to their chunky beef pies….  she stamps the shit out of my ‘reward’ card (as in those cards they give out to entice you to come back 10 times to get a freebie), I must go in looking poor because she slaps on 3 extra stamps every time and I’m benefiting from this with a free pie every 4 days or so, perhaps she’s a Feeder of sorts…. not sure, but I keep going back….  Sometimes I find myself driving in a complete opposite direction so as not to have my car drive me into the car park of said pie shop – it’s the car, not my lack of self control….

I am booking in for a c-section next week and my Chiropractor has advised me to really emphasis the discomfort (“cry if you think it will give you a couple of weeks off the date”)…. I don’t really think i have to try too hard to ’emphasising’ the shitness of it all, but if i don’t see that they are convinced I’ll be crying alright.  Even if i can get in a week or 2 earlier, that should be ok.

This little person has now taken to using my bladder as a trampoline, and doing it’s little jumps in the most awkward situations for me.  I was doing the grocery shopping on the weekend, minding my own business, when all of a sudden the baby did what seemed to be a triple somersault with a flawless land right on top of my bladder, at the point of impact i just had to stand there with what i can only imagine to be a drained look on my face wondering if it was at that very moment that I wet myself in the middle of aisle 3 in Woollies.  That would have been a first (for me, i’m sure it’s happened before).  I wasn’t concerned about the loss of dignity that would have come with that – i lost that a long time ago when Billy graduated to coming to the toilet with me, it was just the idea of having to notify a stranger that there was a ‘mess in aisle 3’ – can just imagine the PA blast “CLEAN UP AISLE 3 – HEAVILY PREGNANT WOMAN PEED HER PANTS AND IS BLAMING THE BABY, CLEAN UP AISLE 3”.  And what would i say? Do i tell a fib and say my waters broke? what next though, would I be rushed to hospital in fake labour??? So many factors to consider, this is why i am a terrible fibber in general….  I would have just said “um…. please don’t walk in my piss – here i’ll pass you the weetbix you want…”

It was at that point that I decided I needed to get home ASAP, and from this point forward, either Jim can do the shopping or it’s done online.  EEEK!

Anyway, enough of this.  I’ve got to get my little fella from day care, who I might add, seems to know there’s something happening to his mum’s belly – and i think it’s more than “gee, mum’s packing on the weight lately”.  He doesn’t let Jim touch my gut, and if i lift my shirt up and say “Billy, look at mummy’s tummy there’s a baby” he’ll stop what he’s doing, storm over and pull my shirt down, even going to the point of tucking it into my pants.  Hilarious to watch…!

He did the opposite to his Nanna the other day though, lifted her shirt up and said Beebee….. oh no, Son!

With the official count down really on, and now that I’ve finished the uni semester i should really consider making a move on this baby’s room….  Maybe I’ll start this weekend….. Maybe.

As always, check the size of my little mate’s hand – there’s almost no more growing to be done – it feels like only yesterday that you had to squint to make out the pink dot……





Let me just bask in this feeling of painless delight – even if it only lasts a short time, I’m rolling around in it like it’s a bathtub full of hundred dollar bills!

I feel as though i went into one of those dramatic church scenes where JESUS CURED ME…. If Jesus is the wonderful chiropractor I saw, than I LOVE JESUS (and her wonderful work she did on my broken body, she has a name if anyone wants to know, PM me and I’ll shout it to the roof tops, cannot recommend her enough to fragile pregnant ladies).  I am actually tap dancing in my head it’s that amazing.

Funny story actually, anyone who reads my Facebook posts would have read last week that I had to fill out some details for this magician chiropractor, under the question “what eases the pain” i cheekily wrote NETFLIX AND CHILL (and when i mean cheeky, i just thought watching TV on the couch was the only thing i should be doing to ease the pain).  I did not know, until my Manager explained it to me between cacking himself laughing and searching through Urban Dictionary to show me the true meaning of the term:
(Excuse the naughty words)


code for two people going to each others houses and fucking or doing other sexual related acts
Brad: “Hey Julia wanna come over and watch Netflix and chill”
Julia: “Sure I’ll pick up the condoms
Brad: “Wait I thought we were just gonna watch Netflix and chill?”
Julia: “Netflix and Chill means we fuck, dumbass
Seems I am not the only one to mistake the concept for something a little more innocent (I do believe even the leader of our great country was caught out with it recently) but I was somewhat mortified because this place I go to is full of very lovely people and I didn’t want them thinking “she’s back – no wonder she’s not getting any better, with all that Netflix and chilling” – so I sheepishly called the receptionist and explained that I really just mean I like to sit on the couch… Turns out she didn’t know what it meant, so then I had to break it down for her in a PG explanation – she laughed very hard.  Glad I could bring joy to the lives of others.
So I am pain free in the nether regions!!! YIPEEE!! That doesn’t mean i stop whining though.  Nope, apparently it’s not time for me to be 100% cleared of WOE’s.  Billy saw what was happening, that Mummy was starting to feel terrific and decided to sneeze and cough and splutter in my face and share with me his disgusting head cold.  Thanks Son, so grateful for your gifts.  So yesterday when I went into the chiropractor with my face running (nose and eyes), I had to lay face down for her to do her thang and when i got up embarrassingly had to acknowledge the wet patch(es) on the face bit… .awkward – got a tissue?
We are 28 weeks in, into the 3rd trimester and I am thinking I should really make a start on this new baby’s bedroom – at the moment s/he will be sleeping on the floor in the office/hide-the-shit room…. I guess there’s enough space to accommodate the tiny figure, but I know how fast those babies grow – best get onto it.  It made me think though, we have a bookshelf filled top to bottom with books I’ve read. WHY ARE WE SAVING BOOKS? I’ve never considered this until now.  I’m never going to read them again, why have we kept them – here we come vinnies!
Anyway, since I’ve been away from work for a couple of days I should get back into it and make my moneys worth of productivity.
Obviously before you leave you’ve got to reach out and whack my baby’s growing paw – how big is it getting!!!

The 4 legged lady…

Dear Diary (again),

I went to the beautiful city of Sydney for a course last week.  It was nice to break away from the crazy routines of home and get some uninterrupted sleep for a few nights (sorry Jim, but it really was great).  I went everywhere on my 4 legs (2 x crutches and 2 x actual human legs), so for a solid 4 days or so i bore no weight on my ailing pelvis.  This was great, because the next few days afterwards I had little pain and discomfort – I even had an imaginary run – I felt that good. Now that I’ve been back to reality for a few days, sad to say my pelvis has gone back to smoking crack and lazing around everywhere again – I get it, being off my feet will help this process along, but my dear little mate Billy just doesn’t want to hear that rubbish! So the pain stays.

I will say though, I flew Qantas down and back, with a short stay-over in Brisbane, there is a reason why Qantas wins awards for their quality service – it was excellent and I am considering getting myself a pair of collapsible crutches or a walking cane for when I next travel in full health.  I was escorted on a people mover (you know the little buggies that beep you out of the way when you are strolling the hallways of the airport between flights) from one gate to the next and had VIP service (ok, nothing first class) by boarding first and I was even tempted to take up their offer of a wheelchair to the baggage area but I thought that was pushing it a little too hard.  I’m actually not bad on the crutches, I set a pretty decent pace. The folks were on the return flight so I managed to score them a seat on the buggy also – the crew were asking if Mum and Dad wanted wheelchair assistance for when they got off the plane – I am half certain Dad was considering the option (he is very able body for the record), I had to pull him up and say “they are with me” and gave a nod to my crutches – whoa guys, nobody steal this pregnant woman’s thunder hey!  So an enthusiastic high five to the Qantas team.

I was staying in Chatswood and catching a train to North Sydney to go to this course, that was ok – except for the somewhat steep hill I had to lug the body up to get to the building. On the second morning I needed to get there at about 7:30 or so, I got in to North Sydney with plenty of time to spare to be on time… if I was walking…. Got into the room about 15 minutes late.  The trainer (who wasn’t the best human I’ve ever met, if I am honest), looked over and said “train running late or something?”, I took a breath and said “nope – just took my time” – dickhead – now fetch me a coffee!

I did surprise myself when i hit a bird (calm down animal activists, it was a pigeon – the world could probably do with less of them). I was crossing a main intersection to get to class and i saw the bird, it was also on the intersection – I assumed it was going to move as I headed towards it and didn’t bother veering my path of direction…. Not sure whether it was drunk, or territorial or just simply not familiar with the peculiar shape of the pregnant four legged lady, crossing the road – or possibly a bit of everything, but I nearly fell over laughing when i actually struck it with a subtle swing of my stick (the swing was not I deliberate swing at the bird, I was simply travelling to get to my destination). Didn’t kill it, so a bonus for the bird population but certainly gave it something to think about.  I wonder what the people waiting for me to cross thought of the scene – I would have loved to have seen it in slow motion, over and over again.

As I mentioned earlier, when I am on a roll I seem to get quite a decent pace happening and when I was heading back to the train station one day I ankle tapped another pedestrian – they turned around in shock and I had to reluctantly apologize, just because it seemed to be the right thing to do at the time, but come on people, let’s not dawdle – move along!!

In my travels to and fro I passed other people using ‘the sticks’ and we gave each other a knowing nod as if to say “well done” or “you’re doing great” or “hey, nice sticks”, or whatever it was our nods were saying…. I wanted to ask one person for a race but let’s face it, it’s Sydney – you don’t make eye contact in Sydney…..

Since I’ve been seeing a physio on a weekly lately to get some pelvic relief, I was in the waiting room one day and got to thinking about why I might be having this pain. Sure, I know I am not the only one, and it is very common in pregnancy – the hormone relaxant flows through the body to loosen the areas preparing for birth etc etc – or that’s the short version of my interpretation anyway. I appear to be releasing TOO much of the stuff and my pelvis is basically chooffing down on a doobie and is quite stoned and too relaxed to care about carrying my extra weight and basically giving my pain threshold the finger (again, my interpretation of the big words).  But I asked my lovely physio if the fact that I jumped back into running/jogging soon after I had Billy, knowing now that I had this same issue in the last pregnancy.  The answer was QUITE POSSIBLY.

I remember now. After a c-section you are told to wait about for 6 weeks to recover from the ‘procedure’ before being able to do exercise or anything really.  That’s basically all you hear, if they told me anymore I wouldn’t have remembered.  I did just that though, on the 6th or 7th week I thought I would break into a run on the VERY FIRST chance i could get – this is after I had almost an entire 40 weeks of NO running because I was too damned exhausted to even walk.  What a hero I was.  I knew that night that it was probably the worst decision I had made – I was very uncomfortable with pain.  In hindsight, there was no need to run, when I could have easily taken myself on a brisk walk and that would have been just as sufficient and less torturous.  I continued to do so anyway.

Anyway, the Physio explained that running post c-section is probably more suitable after about 9-12 months after the operation (depending on recovery times)… pfft that seems a long time…. I get it now…. I won’t be climbing back on that running donkey so soon this time and will actually rehabilitate myself.

Just whilst we are on the topic of being sliced and diced to get to the baby – it really isn’t just a basic procedure = get your head around this:

  • The doc makes an incision into your skin, through the fat cells, connective tissue, and into the abdominal cavity;
  • The abdominal muscles are then spread apart;
  • The bladder is moved down and out of the way in order to get to the uterus;
  • There is an incision made into the uterus and the baby is guided out;
  • The placenta is taken out shortly after;
  • The uterus is then stitched up;
  • The bladder put back in place;
  • Then connective tissue, the abdominal, and the skin stitched up, to varying degrees.

(picture added for special effects)



A bit gruesome, sure but I think people forget about how major it can get to get that precious child out – whether elective or because of labor complications (which was the case for me with Billy). When I go through that list, I have to admit I don’t even know if I knew all the details, maybe I shouldn’t have looked it up even now.  Why on earth would I have thought 6 weeks be enough time to heal ALL the parts of my body and be ready for a vigorous run.  Silly Rabbit.

In saying all that, in my current state we are considering elective c-section…. watch this space for more gruesome shit.

Anyway, just an update on my gut situation I can no longer hide behind my fluros at work and needed to get some shirts, for home also because I was still hanging out in singlets what were probably too small for me when I wasn’t carrying around a basketball belly.  My guts were just hanging out proudly like I was on some houseo show, Jim is no doubt happy about not having to see it all out and about now… You’re welcome, man!

This is my first gut shot for the pregnancy – might take another in a few weeks if I can remember to clean my room so that the reflection of clothes and an unmade bed don’t show up in the background – that just sets a bad example for the kids later when they are looking at these photos “well Mum, it was good for you, it’s good for us not to clean it”….

Here is the gut shot….


I shall leave it at that for the moment as I have to go and get my little fella, It’s been a nice chat (to myself).

Before I go though, as always – give this little pink-handed bubba a high five – apparently s/he’s the size of a bunch of bananas….. A MASSIVE bunch by the size of my stomach – possibly even a few bunches together…..


Like a bull in a china shop…

Well hello there fellow readers of my moan and groan blog – great to see you’ve been suckered in to read another one. Welcome back!

These last few weeks have been somewhat trying.  I’ve now gone and got myself some lovely looking crutches to draw more attention to the fact that I’ve been beaten with the troublesome pregnancy stick.  They are to use through the day to try and take the pressure off my pelvis area (since I’ve been told it is in fact not improving and actually getting worse – oh goodie!).  I leave them in the car in the afternoon as it’s not like I can play this injury card to the 18month old at home – he don’t care, “just pick me up lady”!

My latest explanation which is making people run for the hills after they ask the question of “what have you done to yourself”, is simply “I had sex”…. I mean, it’s true – that’s how you get pregnant guys (spoiler alert), the looks are wonderful and the silence thereafter is hilarious.  I also told one colleague to “move out of my way or I’ll throw my crutch at you” today.  I’m sure I’ll get some kind of sexual harassment form thrown my way soon, but look – i don’t care – bring it, I’m clearly disabled, pregnant and a woman – pffft – talk about protected!

(DISCLAIMER: please let it be known, I am only joking – I am sure I will lose any sexual harassment case with the amount of street talk I’ve been throwing out there lately – but don’t sue me, I’m simply just frustrated and lacking endorphins).

Speaking of my 18 month old, I am loving the shiz out of my cute kid lately (as opposed to nothing – I am ALWAYS loving the shiz out of him).  He’s learning stuff every day, and owning it like he’s always done it that way.

We’ve got him in his big boy bed which has been pretty smooth sailing thus far.  Not going to lie, I miss the cage effect the cot had where he couldn’t actually get out and be defiant about sleep time but I’m sure we’ll get there.

Last night though he wasn’t having a bar of this “sleep in your own bed” business, he was not impressed. So, after a few attempts of putting him back and leaving him there and then taking him back when he would come out to where we were I went in a laid with him.  This kid was tired – his eyes were fighting to stay awake and every few seconds he would open them to see that I was still there.  I know to wait until the 2nd stage snoring kicks in before even attempting to move off the bed (1st stage is a light heavy breathing noise – 2nd stage is a road train noise).  That kicked in after a while so I thought I would make my move.

This little trickster Billy is smart though, he tends to interlock either an arm or a leg around one of my limbs (arm, leg or even neck – much like a choke hold), so I had to gently unwind from him. Got that done, but then I had to shuffle off the bed in a way that wouldn’t make movement or noise – meaning ‘gracefully’.  There is nothing graceful about me, people! I have a basketball in the front and a pelvis and hips that currently don’t allow smooth movements….

How i wanted it to go down was the like the laser scene in the movie Entrapment (you know, Katherine Zeta Jones dodging all the laser to get to the loot), how it really went down was more like a bull in a china shop.

entrapment  -V-  bull

I dragged my body to the edge of the bed without waking him. Pushing my self up so as not to hurt myself any further (because moving hurts) was the next step, and this is where it began to unravel – the creak and moan of the bed as i lifted my weight off was enough to stir my favorite little man (i guess that makes it sound like i weigh about 200kg – I don’t, even though some days I feel like it)…… He rolled over and tried to resettle but the road train snoring went back to heavy breathing so I was in dangerous territory, so i crept/limped over to the door to make my final exit move when I realized (as i do EVERY BED TIME) that we need to really oil our squeaky doors – BOOM Billy was WIDE AWAKE with the loud screech of the door, looking at me like I was some fool for trying to escape. I felt as though I was getting busted red handed for breaking out of prison.  So, I had to start the process again.

I thought I had been successful with the 2nd attempt (about 40 minutes later), and was in bed when I heard jimmy (who was on his way to bed) say “what are you doing out here, little mate” – Billy had quietly exited his bed (no doubt Katherine Zeta Jones style), went into the lounge room and was just hanging out on the couch in the dark…. What a trickster.

We let him fall to sleep in our bed and then I took him back and dumped his sleeping body back into his bed.  Thanks for letting us sleep in this morning buddy, such a big night for you!

Another funny thing that I am HOPING is not a habit is that he came with me to the toilet the other day.  He wasn’t going mind you, no no – it was me.  I know that i signed away my freedom to privacy the day he started to become mobile but this was something else. I was doing my business, trying not to make eye contact because that’s a bit weird, when he got scared of a noise outside (it was the early hours of the morning and it was my turn to do the morning duty and Jamie’s turn to sleep-in *a sleep-in is not having to wake up before 5am*, so Billy spending quality time with me in the little room was really the only option) and he proceeded to climb onto my lap….mid business…. um…. ok…. he seemed comfortable and my comfort no longer counts so I just rolled with it, but I was thinking about down the track when there will be 2 of them…. does that happen – 2 kids perched on your lap whilst you pay a penny??  Some food for thought, i guess.  Then he helped me handle the toilet paper – HE DIDN’T WIPE GUYS, GET YOUR MIND OUT OF IT…. He seemed to be proud of handing me a square at a time…  On ya Son!

Gosh I love him!

Oh and although he doesn’t yet get the concept that Mummy is storing his new sibling in her belly, there was a (rare) moment on the weekend where he was sitting still with his head resting on my belly.  The baby kicked him square in the face and he shot up and looked at me like I had done it…. it was fkg hilarious but I probably won’t be able to repeat it again because he wouldn’t go near my gut after that.

AHHHH GOOD TIMES!  I cannot wait for August!

I found this link of another blogger who suffered the same thing as I am currently going through – she also mentions the feeling of being kicked down there…. so it’s just not me talking about my lady bits – it’s a fact!

Anyway, that’s it for me – I have to go and do some writing that will actually get me closer to getting my degree and work on an assignment – this is a prime example of procrastination….

But before you go, don’t forget to high five my little belly friend….  Check out the size of that hand WHOA!


Ps. I STILL have not taken a pregnancy belly shot… oops… I might start soon, get at least 3 in before August… just in case the question pops up in later years “Mummy, how come there are all these gut shots when you carried Billy and none of me”.  Well kid, that’s because you were 2nd…..!