Aerin's Birth Story

My birth story starts on a Saturday, 5 days before my due date of 8/8/2012.  Darren was home, after weeks away for work so, eager to meet my baby, I enlisted the help of some ‘natural prostaglandins’ to try and kick start the process.  All day Saturday I assumed the only thing it did to my body was make it hard to walk, and totally disengage the baby, who remained pressed against my ribs all day.  Sunday morning I was thrilled, however, to see the start of my mucous plug coming away.  Mucous plug failure, as Darren delightfully put it, was happening as my cervix started to get things ready. 

Monday afternoon, in a burst of energy, I walked to pick Bowen up from school, taking advantage of the time to do a little ‘gutter walking’ (one foot on top of the gutter, the other in the gutter).  This is meant to help move the baby down to a better position to kick start labour.  I had to be super careful not to roll my ankle on our curved gutters though!  Things definitely felt different afterwards, and I began to feel uncomfortable, with a pain radiating around my pelvis and back.  I complained to my mum about it, and she was certain I was about to go into labour, but I assumed I had just overdone it, as a sore hip had stopped me walking for a few weeks. 

Very tired that night, Darren and I went to bed at about 9pm.  I was still feeling uncomfortable.  I don’t think I slept at all, with strange pains keeping me awake.  I tried to stay in bed, deadly still, so I wouldn’t make a new pain start.  It didn’t work.  I got up, to see if I could time them, and to have some Panadeine in a vain attempt to get some sleep.  It was about 3am at the time, and I was watching the Olympics, sailing, I think, while trying to time contractions for the first time in 4 pregnancies.  They were all over the place, lasting the same amount of time but varying in distance.  One thing they were not varying in was intensity.  I pottered around, putting the last things in my baby bag, and then tried to rest again.

By 5am, Darren’s alarm for work had gone off and he found me pacing around, trying to work out if I was actually in labour or not.  My last labour had gone on for 30 hours before it ramped up enough for me to know it was time to go to hospital.  I called the hospital, and together we decided I was still probably in early labour.  I poo poo’d her suggestion of having a shower, it was too freezing cold!  Instead Darren and I decamped to the lounge room to sit in front of the heater and watch more Olympics.  We decided Darren wouldn’t go to work, and at 7am called my mum and asked her to come over. 

Mum arrived, and at 7.30 all the pains stopped.  I actually managed to get half an hours sleep, thinking I had overreacted and this baby would be late like the boys were.  That was until I woke at 8am with an almighty contraction which knocked me off my feet, and I announced we were going to the hospital.  I was having a baby!

I barely had a contraction on the car trip, and found myself again doubting if the baby was coming.  The parking, even at 8.15am, was diabolical at the hospital.  Darren ended up dropping me off, and, of course, as soon as I tried to get out of the car I was frozen again with a contraction.  Cars were lining up behind us, and Darren was telling me to get out of the car, but if people can’t cut a heavily pregnant woman in her pyjamas, at a freaking hospital in pain, some slack, when can they?  I waddled up to the delivery suite, and promptly burst into tears.  They weren’t expecting me, my records were actually at the midwife clinic where I was supposed to have an appointment that day, but I was ushered into a room straight away. 

My midwives were Rachel and Annie, one of whom was a student nurse.  They were both fabulous. 

I got changed and lay on the bed to be monitored.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t take the monitors off, and had to have a cannula as I was having a VBAC and it was hospital policy.  To be honest, I didn’t really want to move as any movement would give me a contraction!  I was examined at about 9am, and to my surprise, and delight, I was 9cm!  The baby’s head was still very high, so from then on it was a waiting game.  I made very good friends with the gas at this time.  I’d had it once before and didn’t like it, but this time, with a face mask instead of a mouth piece, it was fantastic, and all the pain relief that I needed.  I could breathe in through my nose the way I’d been taught in calm birth classes, counting in my head to distract me. 

After almost two hours of waiting, where I could literally feel the baby’s head descending, I wanted to get on my knees at the end of the bed.  The midwives decided it was time to break my waters to see if that would finish the job, but as I turned to let them do their thing, my membranes exploded!  It was like a water balloon.  I got a massive shock at the sound, as did Darren.  It was all on then.  There was no way I could stop myself pushing, and Aerin May was born 12 minutes later.  I think that gravity was my best friend at the time, as she was a huge improvement over my previous pushing efforts of 1 ½ hours and 45 minutes. 

It was not all smooth sailing.  Aerin was born with the cord wrapped tightly around her neck, and wasn’t breathing.  She was immediately taken to the little heater table for a good rub to get things going, but it wasn’t enough, and suddenly the room was full of people trying to get my little girl going.  In hindsight, it was terrifying, but at the time I was strangely disconnected.  I was sore and exhausted, and all I could think was that I’ve seen this on TV before, and it all worked out OK.  It wasn’t too long before we heard that amazing cry, and our baby girl was fine.  Her agpar scores were only 3 and 5, and she was taken, with Darren, to the NICU to be observed.  It was only a fleeting visit, and she was soon back for her first hold, and breastfeed.  She was a little shell shocked, and after some lovely skin to skin contact she latched on as though she’d been doing it for years. 

I managed to come through the whole event reasonably unscathed, with some 2^nd degree tearing and stitches.  There was a lot of ‘back passage’ probing that I could have done without, but everything was fine back there.  I still had my beloved gas during the flu flu inspection, and it must have been turned up pretty high, as things got a little trippy.  It was like a bad drugs sequence in a movie, with everything spiralling around, and voices sounding like they were miles away.  The one good thing about gas is that it wears off really fast, so I was soon back to reality. 

All in all, my last EVER birthing experience went mostly to plan.  I’d said all along that I wasn’t going to be hanging around the hospital for long, and would only rock up when I was ready to push.  Big tick there.  I didn’t want to stay for long and was hoping for the six hour discharge, but we stayed overnight so Aerin could be observed after her birth issues.  My main motivation for not staying was that I didn’t want to share a room, but I ended up in one by myself, and was discharged at 10am.  I really don’t mind that I had to stay.  The food was pretty ordinary though.  The most important thing was that I got to leave hospital with my gorgeous, healthy daughter, with whom her whole family is besotted.

Aerin May Pearce

7/8/2012

3.41kg, 7lb8oz; 35cm head, 52cm long.  Perfection.

We're having...

We're having...

one of these!

Such an ambiguous shot.  I am going for a private gender confirmation this week to get another look.  That could be anything!  Or am I just in denial...  The main thing, obviously, is that the baby is healthy and apparently happy, kicking me to bits.  My placenta is still at the front, and all my kicks are very low.  It's an odd sensation.

In other news, the fatigue, nausea, diarrhea and bloating that I had blamed on my poor foetus have finally been explained.  I had giardia.  There was a yucky parasite living in my intestines causing me a great deal of discomfort.  After putting off gathering a stool sample for two weeks (I can be up to my elbows in the boy's poo with no problems, but getting me to scoop my own is Gag City) I was finally brave enough and, as I suspected, it was full of unformed giardia cysts.  Gross.  I had mentioned it to the GP weeks earlier and was palmed off.  I feel vindicated, and 1000% better after just three days of antibiotics.  No one else seems to be suffering from it, and apparently I could have had them for a long time and the pregnancy just set it off.  Whatever, after a month I am better!  Hooray!

17 weeks today

Wow, 17 weeks today.  Time sure flies when you are accidently pregnant and miserable. 

Actually, I am feeling less miserable as the days go on.  Perhaps my hormones are starting to regulate themselves, or I've come to terms with #4 a bit more, or maybe just getting rid of my sinus infection with some much-needed antibiotics has evened out my temper somewhat.  I can't believe how moody I am.  I'm surprised I have any friends, and that my relatives are still talking to me!

I'm not feeling my little one very much yet.  I think I've had a couple of pokes, but I have an anterior placenta that is creating a comfy pillow for the baby, but buffering any potential kicks. It's a bit of a bummer, but they'll soon come thick and fast and I'll be wishing for the bubba to fall asleep so I can get a rest from the internal tummy soccer.

On the outside, the boys are doing well.  OK, so Austin has started pooing his pants again, and bit a child at preschool the other day.  That I didn't see coming.  Riordan was a biter, but Bowen was the only one who was on the receiving end.  Austin is a very angry little boy lately, and it appears he is taking out his frustrations orally.  Riordan grew out of it, but I can't have my little man biting random kids at school.  Being the third of three boys can't be easy, there is so much testosterone swirling around the air I can see it sometimes, but it's no excuse for munching on people.  It's hard for me to reconcile the person he is at preschool with the little boy who still insists on his boobie before bed. 

There can't possibly be a baby in there.

Nearly 15 weeks into this baby-making business, and I still can't quite imagine my life with another child.  Darren is going away lots with work, he was away all last week (only coming home to annoy me on the weekend) and left this morning until Friday.  It's just me and the boys, and it's all a bit much while I'm growing #4.  I've never been so tired, I have an enormous belly that HURTS all the time.  It's so sensitive and achy.  Everything else aches too. 

Where will I find the time to fit the new one in?  I think I'll be breastfeeding while I am walking to school. 

I know that I've been spoilt by having my mum so readily available, and her working full-time is a big adjustment for me (and her, hence her actually considering retirement, but for how long is any one's guess).  My life is one big sook. 

Added to all of this is the fact that my house is falling apart around me!  We knew that moving into a 30 year old, unrenovated house was going to require some work, but this poor old this is not used to three active boys.  Among other little, trifling things, the middle rail of the banister has fallen off (due, in no small part, to having little feet climbing on it all day).  I am just waiting for someone to plunge off the side of the stairs.  It's come in quite useful to the boys and they just jump through it instead of climbing to the bottom! 

My oven also died.  I am a HUGE baker.  I adore it.  The kids are starting to really like eating my cooking (finally) and just as I was starting to find some yummy recipes for school lunchboxes, my five cent oven from eBay gives up the ghost.  It did it in a dramatic way, befitting it's final exit, by creating a huge flare and then quietly smouldering into death.  I think it's time to spend some money and get a new kitchen.  A kitchen, however, necessitates removing a wall, replacing floor coverings, repairing roofs...not straight forward at all!

There's a baby in there!

My 12 week scan went off without a hitch.  There is a lovely little baby kicking around in there.  It still amazes me that something so tiny has all it's working bits.  We saw 2 little arms and hands; 2 kicking feet and legs; a rapidly beating heart; the tiny bladder; all the good bits.  The doctor doing the scan also had a guess at the sex of the baby, which was exciting.  I only have to wait 6 more weeks to confirm it!

I always thought that if I did have this last baby (back in the days where I was 'planning' it, rather than having it sprung on me in the manner it did) I would keep the gender a surprise.  It would also be the perfect ending to this 'surprise' pregnancy. 

I can't wait though.  The practical part of me knows a boy would be the best fit for our family.  He'd slip right in with uber-male Daddy and his testosterone filled brothers, and be out riding a dirt bike before he could walk.  The other part of me would love a little girl.  I'm still not entirely sure why.  Just 'cause.

Hey baby!

Tired. So Tired

I'm exhausted.  The 4cm of baby inside me is just sucking out my energy. 

I am a husk.  I'm pretty sure that I actually like most of pregnancy, I have fond memories of it, so I at some point it must get better.  I'm having a hard time remembering when!

On another note, I think I am going to start having smoothies.  Maybe juices, but I don't have a juicer.  I have a blender, so I can do the smoothies.  Fruit and vegetables have been a massive turn off for me so far, but as I slowly emerge from the first trimester fug, my taste buds are also reawakening.  I have a pineapple to make pineapple and mint crush (oh yum, my mouth is watering just thinking about it) and I have some passion fruit and bananas, and some almond milk (which I discovered yesterday has so little actual almond in it that it may as well be water with a couple of nuts waved across the top.  Haven't tasted it yet, it may be delish.  I hope so, I love almonds) and heaps of ice to get all smoothied up.  I'm not sure when I should eat them, I'm thinking my afternoon snack. 

Congratulations, you are now a foetus

10 weeks, and the embryo can be called a foetus now!

I still feel like poo, some days are better than others and I am eating mostly normal food.  Fruit is a big turn off, and I used to adore it. 

I am so grateful that it is school holidays, instead of frantically running around trying to make it to all our obligations on time, I can stay in bed, read my books and generally move at a slower pace.  Then, when school goes back, I should be back to normal (see, I planned it exactly this way on purpose!).  That's the theory.

The important appointments are made, 30th January for my NT scan, and 20th of February for my hospital booking in visit.

Ooh, I've also cut my hair and adore it!  I thought I would miss my long blonde locks, but the endless attacks from the GHD had done irreparable damage, and it was best for all concerned that I just lop it off.  It came out shorter than I had anticipated, but it's so healthy and I doesn't even need straightening.  It comes to about my shoulder blades.  I'm super happy with it.  I also ditched the pink-dipped blonde for a more natural colour.  Much more me.

Start spreading the news...

So, we've told a few people about Sprout. 

Romana was first (don't tell Darren, although I doubt he'd be surprised!).  I send her an MMS as soon as I'd done the first two tests.  I could barely type the message, I was so in shock.

Darren was next.  His succinct response, as previously noted, was "Bullshit". 

I told Mum the following day.  I think she's been the one who's been the most shocked.  I showed her the pregnancy test, and she immediately started rambling about moving away.  I left the idea with her (and the boys, great timing but we had to go to a Christmas party) and she's definitely coming around now.  I wouldn't be surprised if she hasn't already purchased #4's Chrissy pressies for next year and has them tucked in the toy cupboard.

Darren blabbed to his mate at the Christmas party.  I don't mind, there was some awkward conversation about alcoholic drinks, and as Daz had already imbibed several himself, the news came out. 

I told my sister yesterday.  Carrie came over to get Austin's (and Bowen's and Riordan's) old cot to take to mum's (she doesn't like the one there) and I told her I'd be needing it back next year!  She was shocked (I'm sensing a common theme here) but is cool with it.  There'll be just 14 months difference between Sprout and Jordan.

                                                                       ********

I've had my blood test, confirming that I am indeed 5-6 weeks preggo.  I have an ultrasound booked for next Tuesday to get some dates.  I am predicting the 10th of August, with the baby born on the 18th.  I would love it to happen on the 16th, that will be my nan's 94th birthday.

Time to start afresh.

All is well in the Pearce household. We are gearing up for Christmas and the holidays.

Bowen is almost 6 now, and just finishing Kindergarten. He has done so well at school, and is reading and doing his maths work like a champion. Seeing him read, and sound out words in his head, makes me want to cry.

Riordan is 4. He is slowly starting to calm down. He's not the whirlwind that he was 12 months ago. His speech is improving, which means he gets less frustrated as we ('we' meaning everyone but me, the eternal Riordan interpreter!) understand what he says.

Austin is 2 1/2, and still a breastfeeding maniac. I would never have dreamed of feeding my baby for this long. I think it's got something to do with the fact that he was the last, and in my mind he would always be my baby. Plus, he just loves it, and the closeness is delectable. He climbs into my lap before bed, legs slung over mine, and is slowly lulled to sleep.

Speaking of Austin being the last baby, it looks like that won't be the case. I was lady week free for 18 months (thank you Austin) and this whole year have been very irregular. There was a brief flirtation with the mini pill (I was hoping it would stop my bleeding altogether, turns out it had the opposite effect) and otherwise I've been having longish cycles. I always watch closely, and can pick when I'm dropping an egg. I also have an app on my phone that helps me keep track of my cycles. Last month I was really sick with tonsillitis, and the boys were sick, and it didn't really concern me that Aunt Flo was a bit hesitant in arriving. My average cycle has been around 32, the longest 35. For some reason, I still am not quite sure, I did a quick whizz in a cup on Friday afternoon. This is what greeted me when I went back to check.

"What!?!" I yelled. Quickly dipping another stick in my wee, I expected to see one solitary line, but almost instantly two popped up. Even though I doubted that two false positives would happen in a row, I still popped out to the supermarket to get a 'brand name' test.

The lines appeared before the wee had reached the end of the window.

Still in shock, I went about the rest of my afternoon, willing time to go faster so I could tell Darren. I showed him the third test and, ever eloquent, the first thing he said was, "Bullshit." No, Darren, it's just a joke. Ha. Ha.

Getting over his shock, and trying desperately to work out how it happened (I mean, we know how babies are made, just not this one!) we decided that things will be fine.

And they will.

A question still to be answered, and one that I can't for the life of me figure out, is exactly WHEN it happened, and hence when the baby will be due. I'm thinking around the 11th of August. This test helped me.

Apparently it's telling me that apart from the fact I am pregnant, the little bean inside of me was conceived more than 3 weeks ago. I also had a blood test today, and I'll book in for an ultrasound in a couple of weeks, probably next Friday.

11 more sleeps!

Only 11 more sleeps until Bowen starts big school! His hideous brown uniforms are all washed and labelled, albeit not ironed yet, his school shoes purchased and his bag all ready. I am still working out a lunch box system, but having had all my years of preschool experience I am more than confident with what to put in it!

Bowen is very excited, he really can't, although I am sure that he hasn't quite grasped the concept that he has to go there everyday! Just today he was adamant that we would walk to school everyday (fine by me, it was my plan!), but I can see the appeal of that waning within days.

I am fine with the idea of my baby going off to big school. Sometimes I just look at him and realise how old he has become, and tears well up in my eyes. He is just soooo grown up, and yet my baby still.

The biggest hurdle we will have to overcome is probably quite minor for some families. We will have to get up at a reasonable time! For a family used to starting their day at 8.30, having to leave the house by then is going to be a rude shock. I have spent the past 5 years training my children sleep in, and I'll have to reverse all that! Right now I am just laying back and enjoying my lie in's, as I know they will be short lived!

I'm a Woman

Well, I'm a Woman. The painters are in, Aunt Flo has come to visit, it's Lady Week.

Just days short of Austin's 18 month anniversary of breasfeeding, my fertility has returned. In actual fact, I haven't had a period since the day before Bowen's 1st birthday, over 4 years ago. Before that, it was March 2005.

I think I've had a great run. I've been toying with the idea of contraception, not sure which way to go (the Pill, maybe a Mirena) but I wanted to get my period back, just to see when it would happen. To be honest, it's a bit sooner than I would have wanted!

Finding the time

I am finding it difficult to make enough time to do the vacuuming, let alone type a blog post, and I am most disgusted at how neglectful I've been.

Here is a quick recap to get the ball rolling again.

Bowen

My gorgeous boy only has 3 more days of preschool left, before he is let loose to conquer Clairgate Public School. He is soooo excited, but I don't think the fact that he has to be there for 5 days a week has sunk in yet.

In a strange twist of fate, the only child of mine not in a modelling agency had a photoshoot for My Child magazine.

He looked an angel, and I couldn't be prouder. Check out your Summer issue of My Child to see his pic (don't buy it, it's like $8.95, who pays that for a magazine? OK, I may have bought one, but my baby is in it!).

Riordan

My boy still looks like an angel, but, boy, does he act like a devil sometimes! He is mostly a loving, gorgeous little soul, my honey bunny, but poor Austin is still on the receiving end of way too many unwanted 'horsey rides'.

Austin

Where do I start with this beautiful creature I have made? He's my booby boy still, at 17 months. The week apart did nothing more than strengthen his resolve to hang onto his beloved 'boo'. The mere mention of boobies has him clamouring for my top, trying to gain access. Oh my God, I am feeding that mythical baby 'that asks for it'! Shouldn't I have stopped, way before this?

And finally, he sleeps! 13-14 hours straight! It's as though he is paying me back for all the sleepless nights I have been through for the last two years over him, both while pregnant and as a newborn.

There were four in the bed...

Darren is away, for a whole week, and as a special treat, the big boys are sleeping with me.

Riordan is snoring away beside me, and Bowen is mouth-breathing his night away on Daddy's side of the bed.

Ruby (on a security mission, as per Dazza's request, like she'd even bark if a stranger came into the yard, she'd rather stay under the covers, thank you very much) is curled up at Bowen's feet.

THIS is the reason we got a king-size bed, and I love it!

13 months and counting...

Austin John is 13 months old today, and still breastfeeding like a fiend. I had wondered how I would feel about feeding an 'older' baby, as Bowen and Riordan were weaned by now, and I was pregnant with the next one already! He adores feeding, although we have to pretty much stick to feeding in his bedroom or there are just too many interesting things to look at and distract him in the wide open world. I love our quiet times, just sitting and listening to the radio, his constant companion during sleep, and feeling him slowly relax in my arms ready to drift off.

Sleep for my 13 month old is still as crappy as ever. Austin wakes once a night, and only a boob will satisfy him. We did have two nights in a row of sleeping through and, of course, I thought he was cured, only to have the 3am snack request made the following night. I'm sort of hoping that his week with Big Nan, sans nipple, will see him kick the habit.

Austin is not walking, nor has any desire to. My big boys both had started by about now, but Austi is lagging behind. I'm happy for my baby to remain a baby for as long as he wants though! I'm not ready for him to be a toddler yet! He stands, and reaches to grab anything his pudgy little hands will let him, so he causes enough menace without the need to be a biped.

He still has the same laid-back personality that he's had most of his life. Not much annoys him, apart from Riordan. We can't wait for the day that he fights back when Riordan goes on the attack! Riordan is fiercely jealous of Austin most of the time, and while he loves him, he is finding it hard to establish his place in the family. Even Bowen is not coping exceptionally well with Austin growing up and becoming more of a 'person'. I have to sit and explain that he is only a baby, and doesn't necessarily mean it when tears one of Bowen's precious catalogues.

Austin is also forward facing in the car now! We made the switch last Saturday. He doesn't seem particularly fazed, he's happy either way, but it's nice to see his smiling face when I look in the rear-view mirror.

Austin's Birthday - A visual entry

My baby is one! Here are a few pics I took throughout his day.

Waking up, he's not happy about this, but even on your birthday you have to get out of bed!



Breakfast time, crumpets are on the menu.

His birthday truck!

It's Austin-sized!

A toddler now, no longer my baby!

I wish my gorgeous boy all the happiness in the world!

xx Mummy.

Quotes of the day

"Mum, your bum feels like jelly!"

Umm, thanks Bowen.

"Mum, do cracks go to heaven?"

Huh? Another tricky one from Bowie-bear.

*******

P.S. Congrats to Romana and her new gorgeous boy, Micah James!

Out Damn Snot!

As I type this, I sit waiting impatiently for any news on my dear friend Romana's birth. The last message I got from her was that she was heading into hospital, so I am hoping that she is holding her new bundle already, or at least in the full throes of labour! I am beside myself with excitement, I can't wait to hear all the details.

I can't help but remember, as I listen for the text message, that 12 months ago it was me keeping people in suspense. My little Austin is almost 12 months. His first year has just passed by at warp speed.

The poor little soldier is also sick again. He is constantly getting upper respiratory tract infection. He has a sky-high temperature right now, and it's a measure of how sick he is that he let me feed him in front of the TV just before his last nap, and not sequestered in the darkness of his room, away from all distraction. I may have to do a bed shuffle tonight so I can sleep next to my precious boy and keep my eye on him.

My Vow

I solemnly vow not to cut my hair, or Bowen and Riordan's, until 2011.

I don't know how I manage to do it every time. I just want a little trim for the boys, I see the haircut looking all gorgeous in my head, and I describe it as best I can for the hairdresser, and yet they always emerge from the salon looking as though they lost a fight with the whipper-snipper.

I promise not to cut their hair for the rest of the year, just to see what happens, and if I'm going to do it for the boys, I may as well join in too, and not get any length cut off my hair for six months.

*****

It took two rainy days, but last week I went for, and passed, my pre-learners course to get my motorbike licence. I have no aspirations of joining an outlaw motorbike gang, or burning across Australia on a Harley Davidson, but it occurred to me that with three boys, I might miss out on some things if they turn into dirtbike crazies like their father! Darren, the authority on such things, insisted that if I wanted a bike I had to get my licence, so that's my next step. Right now, I just look cool in my dirtbike gear, but soon I will be mobile!

Holidays!

I'm on holidays from Uni. It feels so bizarre to not have to study. Sure, there are plenty of times when I don't study when I should, but I get the guilts and eventually go back to it. For the next couple of weeks, I don't have to! Hehe!

My exam went OK. I was more excited about feeling like a student again, walking through the UTS area of Sydney. In reality, I probably just looked like a 30 year old mum, but in my head I was 19 again, and a totally cool Arts student. I hate predicting how I might have gone in a test, but all I will say is that I am glad it was a limited open book test. It also showed me that I have to change my revision processes a little!

******

I've gone all herbal around the house. 'Natural' is my new middle name. I've always been a big vinegar fan for cleaning, I have a spray bottle with my own little mixed all-purpose spray, and a straight vinegar bottle for windows and stuff. I've bought soapnuts to wash with (http://www.soapinanutshell.com.au/) and I'm pleased to report that they seem to work! They are apparently great for cloth nappies, and keep them nice and clean with having to strip them (a task that I avoid like the plague). I'm experimenting with my own fabric softener, but that's still a work in progress.

It all started with my hair. I found a forum, just by mistake, called the Long Hair Community. My goal is to still get my hair to my waist, so I read with interest, trying to find any tips to get that length happening. It's all about the moisture, so my bathroom cabinet is now filled with jojoba oil, sweet almond oil, unrefined shea butter and cocoa butter. It makes it's way into my hair, and my skin is loving all the attention. I do a dry body brush before a shower (huddled in my bathroom, covered in goosebumps, freezing to death) and then smother myself in beautiful, natural moisturisers when I get out. I don't think my skin would be as dry if I didn't have to take such hot showers to keep myself warm, but hopefully the house will be heated satisfactorily soon. Slowly, all the chemicals are going to be out of my house...

Gosh, this was a me, me, me post! I didn't even mention what I did last week, something very out of character...

Funnnies

Had some funny moments today.



From Bowen:



"Riordan, Mum's got her boobies out! Come and look!"
I was just getting dressed! I don't often roam about the house topless. I don't know what the big excitement was, they see them all the time. They used to drink from them!



Austin's also found his doodle! He was in the bath this afternoon (yes, this afternoon, he'd had about fourteen changes of clothes today, and it was cold, so I thought I may as well just put his jammies on him) and there it was. He was having a bit of a fiddle, then it was forgotten. As I was dressing him after, he was sitting on the change table, and I could see the light in his brain switch on as he remembered it, and he went for it again. He found his foot instead, realised it was the wrong thing to play with and kept searching, only to be rewarded with a little fondle.



Ahh, doodles, so many of them in this house!



I also got a peak at Riordan's photo's from the agency today:

I've kept this a bit hush hush, but we've signed Riordan up with an agency (very reputable, nothing starting with a 'B') and now I'm just waiting for him to pay off our mortgage in the next year or so. He's had one casting already, and he wasn't the most compliant child, but he looked gorgeous, in my humble opinion anyway!

Study awaits me! I feel a bit cold-ish. If I go into this exam with a brain fog I'll be mightily annoyed!