Month Seventy-Six

Dear Husband,

This was a bit of a tense month. As the pregnancy progresses, I am getting more tired and, well, probably more mean too. Not that I am doing anything on purpose but I must be snapping more because I have noticed the snapping back. And the ill feeling regarding my trips to Sydney. I do get that its hard to be home alone with Genibean but I hate being made to feel guilty for going to work in Sydney when it was always part of the deal when we moved. I was allowed to relocate and work from home to fulfill my role on the proviso that I would be available to go and work in the office a couple of days a month. I needed to be available when they needed me and this never amounted to more than a few days a month. The guilt I got though felt more like you were accusing me of abandoning you for weeks…

I will say however that while I was away this month, you did have a particularly crap time of it. As the weather has been getting warmer, you lined up someone to come and service our evaporative cooling so that we could have cool air. You called me up to say that it was all sorted and you were really pleased. Then you called me up to say that the system had started leaking water all over the floor on a Friday afternoon and the language that you used was not something I am going to repeat. It was a really stressful time for you to be home alone with Genevieve and there was nothing I could do to help. I’m actually not sure how much help I would have been if I was home because getting down on the floor to mop up spills would not have been high on my pregnancy to do list but perhaps you would have resented me a little less had I been there.

You would also have probably resented me a little less if I didn’t nag you so much and bite back at every opportunity. I know that I have been on at you this month to find us a shearer. We got a packet of information on all the animals we inherited when we moved here but apparently the phone number for the shearer who has been coming out previously is not actually the real number for the shearer who does Wiggles each year. We therefore needed a new one. And sooner rather than later as I’m pretty sure he was starting to suffer in the heat. Our poor (fat!) sheep with the ever growing back of wool…I had arranged for the alpaca to be sorted but you took your sweet time to find someone who could come and take care of Wiggles. And then we had to put it off because he got a bit wet and then I made you chase him back into the stable in case he got wet again. You weren’t very happy with me then either.


And that brings me to the fight we had this month when all the passive aggressive and the picking and the snapping just got too much. The fight itself was about sleep which was kind of dumb. My lack thereof and your unwanted helpful suggestions on how I should be dealing with that. I was in full flight accusing you of being Mr know-it-all who thinks he knows best about how I should get a good nights’ sleep. Just go to bed early you say whilst I contemplated the ultimate suffering as I come out of a sleep cycle just as you are coming to bed and end up lying wide awake staring at the ceiling at 4am because my body clock has been thrown out of whack. You thought I was being ridiculous because how could I know that was going to happen and clearly, if I went to bed at the same time as my daughter I’d be bound to get that better nights’ sleep that would turn me into a human.

I in turn was spitting chips because it seemed as far as you were concerned, this dilemma had nothing to do with the fact that I am the one that ends up rising to comfort a toddler occasionally or let the dog out to pee or share my side of the bed with a distended belly and said toddler almost every morning. All of which you could do every once in a while to help out (well, apart from having the distended belly – although if you could take that over for me for a while it would be awesome). It also seemed to escape your awareness that perhaps I could just quit reading books till midnight and go to bed at a reasonable hour rather than a late one. That was my suggestion. You just seemed to want to put a child’s curfew on me though and have me go to be at a ridiculously early hour and I thought that in itself was completely ridiculous and I saw red.

Neither of us were very nice to each other that night.

Other than that, your sister came to visit this month and we went to our first rodeo. Just down the street. I didn’t realise when we moved here just how close we were to the showground and what that would mean. Its not like the showgrounds in other places where the shows themselves are much bigger and the parking is either a) horrendous or b) expensive but there is a certain convenience when you can just walk over to the showground to check out whatever is there and the rodeo was pretty cool. Apparently I’m more country than I thought. I’m pretty sure I can still stick out like a sore thumb as a city chick (although I do now own an Akubra that we bought at the Murrumbateman Field Day, albeit a somewhat girly one) but I would still go and check out a rodeo again. I may still be a little wary of any animal bigger than me but I am not the one riding any of them so that’s fine.


Hilbillily yours,
Your Loving Wife


Day 210 (AC)

Dear Peanut,

You are now at term. Congratulations. Although all this really means is that if something that isn’t supposed to happen does happen and you suddenly feel the need to arrive (please don’t), your chances of survival are that much better than they were before. Or something like that. You definitely should not be thinking of putting in an appearance any time soon but is somewhat comforting to know that I’m still hitting good milestones.

Anyway, there was another trip to Sydney this week, for my work Christmas party. I think I did pretty well too. The lunch started at 1:30pm and I eventually peeled off at 10:20pm to go back to my hotel and hit the sack.

Lunch was great. LOTS of meat and protein. It was Brazilian barbeque fare and I definitely made the most of all you can eat. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) we are past the stage that you inhibit the amount of food I can intake so I went for broke. After all, I wasn’t allowed to drink along with everyone else. Which when I think about it was only really disappointing when they started doing liqueur shots at the end of the night. I was kind of bummed not to have been able to partake then…

I also have to say that you were not very cooperative in terms of moving for other people. My belly got a few pats across the afternoon and there were a couple of people who really wanted to feel you move but you were either shy or antisocial because you were completely still every time those ladies were anywhere near me and I could have grabbed their hand and said feel this.

I was feeling you though. I seem to feel you all the time. I was also feeling you on my bladder at 4am the night of / after the Christmas party at which point I discovered that when I had previously shut the bathroom door in my hotel room, I had effectively locked myself completely out of the bathroom, and more importantly, the toilet. So I had to ring up the front desk and have someone come up to my room and unlock the door because waiting was so not an option right then.

As for the rest of the week, I also got a night off to attend Voices in the Forest with a friend where I sat in the hot afternoon sun listening to opera and debating on whether it was really worthwhile to have schlepped along a bag with a big cardigan and a picnic rug and a cushion and food. That was until the sun went down and the wind picked up when I wrapped the cardigan around me and used the plastic coated picnic rug as a wind break. As my own personal little heater, you helped too. The cushion as it turns out was not terribly useful. As it was, I was still continually swapping my seating position on the ground and under the blanket to maintain feeling in my lower half but it was a nice change of pace overall.

Apart from that, there is nothing of great import to impart.

Much love,

Day 203 (AC)

Dear Peanut,

We travelled again this week. And we had another Doctors appointment. Which was kind of handy because I got her to write me a fit to fly note which I actually ended up using for once. I may still have been able to get on the plane without it (after they cancelled my original flight and I begged poor pregnant lady to get on the next one) but its always handy not to have to convince someone that you are 99% sure that you will not require medical attention on board and their flight attendants will not be responsible for delivering a baby. Especially as you’re not even “term” yet!

But the flights were fine and I didn’t have any hassles physically. Apart from the hill up to your Great Nanna’s house. I came prepared this time. I knew that schlepping all my gear around has been getting to the impossibility point so I got a wheely suitcase to follow me round instead of having several bags that I’d have to carry on my shoulders. This worked a treat for the most part. I could fit the camera gear, the clothes and the computer gear I needed in there and I could get around without too much trouble as I was in and out of train stations and airports. There was that hill though. Only a couple of blocks but I was huffing and puffing to myself, I think I can, I think I can the whole way. And then, you know, I had to put the bag up a flight of stairs as your Great Nanna has even less capacity to lift a suitcase than I do. I got there though. And headed straight into the shower to rinse off.

Everything is a huge cardio workout at the moment. Even sitting down on my butt and reading bedtime stories to your sister! Actually, that is a little bit of an exaggeration. Its only a particular bedtime story. The Velveteen Rabbit to be precise. That Margery woman has an incredible fondness for the semicolon and as a result, some of her sentences are bloody long! I get puffed reading it the way I used to before I got this pregnant. It’s a bit depressing really. Oh well. Occasionally I think to myself I could always start to do a bit of exercise and maybe increase my stamina which would not doubt be of great benefit in the long run. And then I go and have a glass of Milo.

I’m going with a happy pregnant lady is better than an always hungry and cranky one. Sound ok? You can’t answer back yet and maybe that is good. Because I also want to gripe that I bought a new pair of pants this week and was kind of disgusted to find that I had to buy an XL to get a decent fit! Now I have a lot of sizes in my wardrobe and am not usually caught up on a number or letter. I care more about how I look that the size that I am wearing. However, when did I get so large that I had to start buying XL clothes just so I was not trying to squeeze my thighs into a long tube!

And then there was the other thing I wanted to mention this week – I had to sleep on my arms…

It is the case when you are this pregnant that you cannot physically lie on your stomach, you are not supposed to lie on your back (its cuts of blood circulation to vital things apparently) not that you’d really want to because its bloody uncomfortable, so that kind of leaves lying on your side. Which is all well and good until you have a flu vaccine in one arm and a whooping cough vaccine in the other. The flu one was relatively painless a day later and wasn’t an inconvenience. The whooping cough one on the other hand was noticeably uncomfortable. And given how many times I need to turn over of a night, it was inevitable that I kept noticing it! So I hope you appreciate that this was all in aid of giving you a modicum of cover when you arrive before you are able to get your own jab at 6 weeks. You’re going to really love that. I’d say sorry in advance but it is really important, trust me.

Much love,

Day 196 (AC)

Dear Peanut,

This was another week that was pretty much same old, same old. It did end with a night out for your Aunty Ishy’s birthday though, at the Schnitzel House. So I got to feast on garlic bread, a (massive) schnitzel, birthday cake and sticky date pudding. Your welcome.

I could probably waffle on for a little while longer about a number of other things that would no doubt bore you to tears so I might save you the trouble and just say stay safe and well in there.

Much love,

Day 189 (AC)

Dear Peanut,

I had my Gestational Diabetes test this week. The two hour one. Apparently they no longer do the one hour one as there were too many occasions where the results were non-conclusive. Which is what happened the first time around with your sister and resulted with me having to take the two hour test anyway, as well as the one hour one.

So I went to sit in the doctors surgery for two hours and got jabbed three times in the same arm for the privilege. Fortunately (as I found out later), I actually picked the best pathology lab in town to do this as the other ones are apparently a lot less gentle. And they were gentle which was great. I still hate needles though. I’m guessing that the results were ok though cause I haven’t seen anything come through and I was advised that no news is good news. So yay, no diabetes. Which would have put a severe cramp in my diet for sure.

As for the rest of the week, theres not a lot to say.

Much love,

Week 152

Dear Genevieve,

I am trying my darndest but I have to say that I’m really struggling not to say to you “I don’t care”. Not I don’t care about you, because I do, very very much. And not that I don’t care about who you are because that is important to me too but when I want you to put your shoes on or eat your breakfast or do something and you give me plaintive excuses why this is not possible for you, continually, the main response that springs to mind is a frustrated I don’t care! I don’t care that you want to keep drawing or that you want a bath instead of a shower (at 9 o’clock at night) or that you want to wear thongs instead of proper shoes… I care that you are ignoring my wishes and being obstinate, headstrong and generally all round and unfortunately willful. And I also care that, perverse little munchkin that you are, you copy what you hear and parrot it back to me at inconvenient moments. So I am trying not to deal with such disquieting situations by exclaiming forcefully that I don’t care. Sometimes I am more successful than others.


I have also discovered that sometimes we are more successful at heading certain behaviour off at the pass than at others as well. Like earlier this month when we put you to bed, just like normal. We waited until you had fallen asleep and then we came out to watch some tv. It seems that whatever we were watching was a little loud however because you came out about an hour later and said “there something noisy and it wake me up”. The thing was though that you came out fully dressed. You woke up and changed out of your pajamas into jeans, a top, a vest and even socks. It was actually kind of cute and funny at the time. We were highly amused that you had gone to the trouble of getting completely dressed bar some shoes on your feet before you came out to check out the sound. However, it was not so cute and amusing the 2nd and even 3rd time that it happened this month.


We are also not amused that we seem to have gotten ourselves to a place where the first thing you ask for each day is screen time. You will come into our bed in the mornings and fall back asleep but when you wake up, one of the first things out of your mouth is can I watch some tv. We only have ourselves to blame of course and we have obviously been doing something wrong that you seem to think that this is a right. We are therefore trying to cut back as a matter of habit and find specific time in the day that is screen free. Which is really a sign of the times isn’t it? When I was growing up, I watched a LOT of tv. So much so that Grumps cut the plugs off our tv sets at one point (Gigi made him put them right back on though). When I was banned though, it was “no tv”. Now, I have to be more specific ie. no screens. You are not allowed to watch the tv, the tablet, the smart phones or the computer. And this development (either too much screen time or not enough in your opinion) may or may not be why we are getting more tantrums.


In the last month we have been experiencing more tantrums and meltdowns than we have in a while. You have taken to screaming at us in frustration when you don’t get your way. Not yelling but screaming. Continuously. At the top of your lungs. Maybe with some kicking and vigorous head shaking as well. You are kind of beyond speech at this point usually although when we have deposited you in your bed and closed the door to see if we could dampen the noise, we have received a vehement Not Shut The Door!! You will accept at some level being told off and given the consequence of cooling off in your room but you hate being shut off or perhaps shut away from us. I don’t have a problem with this. Since you seem to hate it so much, as in it actually seems to distress you, we stopped closing your door. The tantrums are not cool though. You are going to have to find a better way of dealing with your emotions but these things take time to learn I guess. In the meantime, we’re probably bad parents because some of the tantrums are kind of funny and we have both laughed at them and laughed them off…


As much as we laugh at you occasionally, we do laugh with you a whole lot more. Its fun to see you really excited and happy and especially when you do your “lewdy lewdy” dancing. Its become a bit of a routine for you to have a boogie after you have finished either your bath or shower for the evening. You like to do a bit of butt naked dancing during which time we refer to you as a rudie nudie. However, those words are apparently something you haven’t quite been able to get your tongue around and you refer to the activity as lewdy lewdy dancing and sometimes, as innocent as you still are, that description is not exactly entirely inaccurate. Its almost fitting. Which we also think is kind of funny.


Alles Liebe,