The baby whisperer

I like to think of myself as a chilled out kind of parent, you know, the type that effortlessly gets around and about with a baby dangling casually off their hip - pooh poohing strict routines and other new fangled parenting theories....however I've realised it's not true. In fact I've realised that I am quite the opposite - I am the epitomy of the worried neurotic mother.

Take last night for an example - I fed Ivy and as she started to drift off in my lap into a deep slumber Ed and I talked about how we would stick her in bed and then we could all head off for an early night. I restrained from doing the happy dance at the thought of some extra sleep and sat with Ivy like an unexploded bomb in my lap waiting til I thought she was deeply asleep. The lights went off, we headed to our room and I lowered my little darling into her basinette relishing the thought of being in bed myself in a few seconds. As I lay her down suddenly Ivy's eyes popped wide open, she looked around and gave me a sneaky little smile. ARGHHHHH! Pannicked we decided we would try turning off the lights, ignoring her and getting into bed anyway and see if she could be convinced to sleep.

Ed hopped into bed, joined by Chloe finally followed by me. Chloe settles to sleep down purring away as I lay rigid on the bed, fully clothed not wanted to get comfortable lest I should be ripped out of bed as Ivy yelled out, and too scared to speak to Ed. I lie like a coiled spring barely breathing. I can hear Ivy making all sorts of funny little noises, sighing, grunting, gurgling, kicking her little legs and arms. I wait for the inevitable cry - tense as can be. Ten minutes later I am still in the same pose, assuming Ed is doing the same when suddenly I hear a huge snore and a contented sigh. Eduardo, far from doing the neurotic thing is so supremely relaxed he has just passed out and is sleeping the sleep of the innocent. I continue to lie there waiting for Ivy to rip me from my bed with her cries any second now. My arm, lying in an awkward position has gone to sleep, I am cold and my neck is sore..........I continue to wait - Chloe purrs next to me and Ed is snoring like a train. After waiting some more I realise that bloody Ivy is asleep too and that the only person torturing themselves and lying awake with eyes like saucers is, ME.

I ask Ed in the morning how he could relax enough to go to sleep when there was a good chance he would be woken up and he just smiled and said "oh I just knew she would go to sleep, I wasn't worried at all". It seems I obviously need to take a leaf out of all their books and chill out - bloody cats, kids and men, why are they all so supremely relaxed will I do all the worrying for them?

Three in a bed - some mornings are so cold at the moment we just have to make like hilbillies and all get into bed together. For those that don't approve of cats and babies in bed together, please don't call the authorities.

Ride the gerbil

I know I'm tired but this morning, if I'm not mistaken, was an ad on the telly for "Sexpo 07" as i sat on the couch holding Ivy I viewed it through my birds nest hair and bleary eyes without much interest.... it was all the usual tacky hoo ha, same old same old. But suddenly at the end there was an enthusiastic male voiceover stating that the "fabulous gerbil ride is back!" accompanied by a small graphic of a gerbil with the words "ride the gerbil" above it. Can it be true? Is there really a gerbil ride at Sexpo? Or is the sleep deprivation caused by parenthood better than any drug I've taken before and I've spiralled downwards into crazyland in just 6 weeks?

Facebook Frenzy

I love when a new trend truly embeds itself. I've been hearing about Facebook for ages now but hadn't checked it out and didn't know of anyone who used it.

Last week a friend of mine sent me an invite to join because he had. 3 days later all the way over in the UK my mate Jen sent me a similar invitation and 2 hours later my mate Kath in Far North Queensland did the same thing. None of them seeming to know about the other - spooky! So now I've joined and a wee tsunami of invitations arrive in my inbox as more and more of us join up, it's all rather cool but it kinda makes me feel old. I sort of get the point of it all....but not entirely. I mean it's not as bad as John Howard turning up on You Tube or anything (that is just desperate and tragic) but still I'm trying to grasp the facebook thing totally, and I'm not quite there yet, but it is getting to me.... now if only I could work out how to make my world map appear on my profile page.

I don't like wednesdays

It's the middle of the night and I am awake....so is Ivy. For some reason she has something against Wednesday nights. This is the third wednesday night in a row (in her short 5 week life) where all of a sudden everything that usually puts her to sleep goes out the window and she goes feral.

The week seems to go as follows, 5 reasonable nights, one freakish night where she sleeps for 6 hours straight and we start to think she's a miracle baby and then come Wednesday BAM! We're up and down and living on 1 hours sleep snatched here and there.

What is it that she's got against Wednesdays? I mean I've always thought it was quite a cool day, halfway through the working week and all. Hump day and all that. But not according to the tiny tyrant who squawks and cries and is generally outraged about everything for hours on end. While she doesn't like Wednesdays it's Thursdays that I don't like cause invariably it's the Thursday where I really suffer all day sleep deprived and crazed. The domino effect means that then poor Ed suffers when he comes home and finds me red eyed and ranting about no more children and going back to work early. Magically by Thursday night the tiny tyrant reverts back to her normal reasonable behaviour and all is well again. But I have to say after 3 weeks of this weird cycle I'll be putting a black mark on every Weds for the next month!

Ninja Cat

My new credit card arrived today in Homemaker hot pink - ooh la la. I have to say it is rather splendid looking despite my initial doubts although I suspect it is already doomed. As I took a pen out to sign the back of it just a moment ago Chloe leapt up on the desk ninja style paws flying and knocked the pen out of my hand but not before rendering my signature unrecognisable and more like something a two yr old might scribble....

Fabulous...how do I explain that one to the bank? Chloe thinks it was a hilarious trick and is now purring and looking very pleased with herself from the top of the cabinet she is perched upon.

For Jen...the many moods of Miss Ivy May (well maybe just one or two.)

Homemaker

Me on the phone to the bank yesterday applying for a credit card.

Customer service guy: Occupation?
Me: well I'm on maternity leave at the moment but......
Customer service guy interrupting: Okay...so you're a homemaker
Me sounding horrified: No, No I'm a journalist normally it's just that I'm on maternity leave at the moment and....
Customer service guy: So you're current occupation is homemaker (sounds of tapping on a keyboard)
Me: Oh, oh...sigh okay then.
Customer service guy: What colour card do you want, blue, black or pink?
Me: oh I guess pink.

Customer service guy: 1
Me (homemaker): 0

Big foot

She might be small but her footprint is huge....

Once upon a time, before people picked up on the whole environment cause and the term carbon footprint even existed in our everyday vocabulary I walked this earth with a featherlight touch. The sad thing is I didn't even know it at the time. For 35 odd years I had never driven a car, loved public transport, walking and even cycling. I became a vegetarian at the age of 9 and mostly lived in houses that were bereft of luxury whitegoods such as clothes dryers and dishwashers, clothes were put out to dry in the sun and tea towels were put to good use drying up dishes. In short, my footprint on this earth was quite dainty indeed.

But it seems I am just a late bloomer. In the last year just as everyone else who were already meat devouring, gas guzzling, whitegood loving folks are trying to change their evil ways to improve things I have gone the opposite way and have become the most monstrous big foot. I blame my then impending and now current state of parenthood for the change in my ways.

For starters I now have my drivers license. I'd never really wanted to drive, didn't give a hoot about cars and it was a whole world that didn't mean anything to me. Suddenly after I became pregnant I developed the fear...the fear of being trapped at home or in my local area with a baby and realised that everyone else I knew drove a car and I wanted a piece of the action. In record time I learnt to drive and got my license first go. A big suprise, but the even bigger suprise was that I discovered that I just love hooning about in the car. Ed has even caught me eyeing off other cars on the road and looking at the drive section of the paper and wanting to discuss which cars I like and dislike and what card I'd buy if I had the money - it's a whole new world to me! And just as everyone else is talking about better ways to get to work than driving, I am plotting out my next car trip with relish.

In other areas things aren't looking so hot either....now I am a home owner my house is full of energy sucking gadgets and big whitegood items. And while I'm happy to report that I'm still a vegetarian at the moment at the rate I'm going I wouldn't be suprised if I started ordering rare steaks next time I'm at lunch.

And now Madame Ivy has arrived things are even more out of control. Where our washing machine maybe got a work out twice a week it now is on every day washing endless little suits, socks, hats, wraps, cloths and vomit stained items of my clothing. The clothes dryer seems to whir day and night. For someone who exsists soley on breastmilk somehow Ivy even seems to have created more dishes for us to wash (or perhaps it's all the food Ed and I have been eating in lieu of sleep) so it also gets a go each day.

Then there is the southern end of our young girlie to contend with - our bin, once emptied once or twice a week is now a daily concern filled with disposable nappies, baby wipes and plastic bags to contain the mess. In short, in less than 12 months I have gone from a carbon midget to a big foot, all because of one 52 cm long person. I'm starting to think the responsibility for the environmental destruction of the planet rests soley on the tiny shoulders of the babies of the western world. What do you have to say about that Peter Costello? When you would like us all to have three of these environmentally destructive midgets each - it could be the end of the world as we know it!