Heart Palpitations

You know it's time to have another baby when you discover this.

And these.

And this..

Oh and this.

via one of my all time favourite blogs - Fine Little Day

Find more here. In fact, buy the whole store out before I get a chance to even so much as breathe in another newborn. You'd be doing me a favour, ok?

The Smallest Stitches

Following on from the Stitches & Craft show, I've been busting myself to get cracking on the printed fabric I bought from Lisa Tilse. It's going to be part of a quilt for one of my friend's new babes.

My curse per stitch ratio is particularly high at the moment, quite impressive really. I am quite talented when it comes to getting my floss in a tangle. I would even say I am excelling at tangling it. Maybe I should try embroidering cursive fonts. Get it? Get it?!

Underneath is a vintage tablecloth I found once at a sale. It had already been printed up with the embroidery pattern, but it had never realised it's potential (ie it's never been embroidered), so I've been working on that too.

Small Babes & Runny Noses:: Giveaway

Recently I purged a whole heap of my beauty products. I know what's in some of these products is bad, bad bad, and then some. So I tossed them. The petro-chemicals, parabens, they put in them - wowsers, I don't understand how they manage to get away with it.

Breathe!

I know you probably already know that there are loads of products out there containing petro-chemicals and parabens. Nasty things they are, so it's nice to come across products that steer clear of such things. Particularly when it comes to the smalls.

Since Winter is promptly upon us, here comes cold and flu season. The only thing worse than having a blocked, snuffly nose, is a wee one suffering the same, with very little relief.

Little Innoscents has an easily absorbed vapour balm that brings warmth to the body and helps with breathing and the alleviation of nasal congestion (no more snuffles for your snuggly). It's safe for babies and is fresh and natural - got to be a winner!

Made by a Melbourne mama it's been made with beautiful natural essential oils such as lemon, spearmint, eucalyptus, lavender, peppermint and rosemary, combined with caressing and natural beeswax and shea butter. Mmm, we likey!

There should be a tub in every family medicine cabinet.. A natural organic alternative to Vicks. It contains no turpentine.

I am lucky to be able to give away to five lucky readers a tub of Little Innoscents Vapour Rub Balm (RRP $10.99) and to ONE lucky winner a complete set of the Little Innoscents range (RRP $69).

To enter, visit the Little Innoscents website, then come back and tell me ONE THING that Little Innoscents does not contain... It's very simple my friends. Go forth and conquer!

You have 'til next Friday to enter. Australians only - sorry dudes.

Remember

Remember holding a new babe in your arms. The way she looks at you adoringly. Remember this. Etch it into your memory. Hold tight, it won't be long before she's crawling away discovering, but she'll always remember your voice. Your calm touch. The way you look lovingly at her. She'll remember the way you always wanted to be close. Remember that life changing moment when she just smiles. Grasp it firmly, never let it go. Those coos. The way she's happiest just to be close and listen to your heartbeat. Remember the smell of a newborn. That milky, sweet goodness, just at the top of their head. At the nape of their neck.

....clucky much?

Remember to hit this link to visit more...rememberers.

When The Doctor Was Born

My firstborn. My heart. I remember waking with a sore back. I knew the sign. Matt had long gone to work. I had a plan to meet my sister for shopping. I knew I was in pre-labour, but who knew how long that would last? And as if birth was going to get between me and a cash register. No way Jose.

I drove off to meet my sister, all the while my back pain increasing, a sneaky contraction here and there. I sent Matt an SMS "It's a nice day for a baby" to which he didn't reply (I later learnt his battery was almost dead).

My sister and I shopped. Things were ramping up. I could feel that baby was coming. I went back to my sister's house to watch some waterbirth movies. I'd heard that watching these can bring things on a little quicker. After my movie time was over, I drove home. I don't really remember that drive, but I do remember pulling into our driveway and my father-in-law and a handyman telling me that they were doing some jobs around the house. Fabulous timing because all I wanted to do was crawl into a steamy hot bath and say vamoose to the sore back. I did. I threw caution to the wind. I got in that bath. Then got out. Dressed. Decided to go for a walk to get some things to make Labour Aid. Clearly I was delusional. I walked the two kilometres and all the while my contractions were coming on stronger, more rhythmically.

I stopped off at our local Blockbuster and as any reasonable labouring woman would do, I hired Sex and the City. I remember standing in the store experiencing a contraction. Breathing. Hmmm. Hoping no one would notice a heavily pregnant, heavily breathing woman.

When I checked out the DVDs the guy said a cheery 'see you on Sunday' - and I thought - no buster, you won't. I'm about to have a baby. Overdues - I'll see you sooner.

I don't know how I got home on that long walk, but I know I had to stop here and there to rest. Breathe. Breathe. Open.

I walked home. Made Labour Aid. Got lemon juice all over the floor. Bottled my Labour Aid. Rested. Another bath?

Matt finally come home and I remember my aching body being held in his arms. Ah relief!

We had a quiet dinner together (hey - things can get a little rowdy around here), and went off to bed. I slept until around 1am when things started really ramping. And I vomited (there's an ongoing theme of vomit here lately, isn't there?). I had all the lights off. I hate lights when I feel unwell. I am an animal in the dark. I sit in the bath again. I feel my contractions. I feel them grow ever stronger. I get out because the bath isn't hot enough. Matt's still sleeping. How ever do men sleep through such a mad racket?

Finally, around 2am Matt came out to find me labouring away, I think by this stage I was back in the bath. We decided to call my sister who was coming with us, driving us to the hospital and who would be with us throughout the birth.

I sat in the darkest room in our house. Matt kept turning lights on. I kept turning them off. Breathe. We were in touch with the midwife, and we knew we had a 40 minute drive ahead. The midwife tried to stave us off, but I knew we had to go. I was ready to go. We clambered into the car. My fashion sense clearly thrown out the window. Me in Matt's old paint splattered tracksuit pants, a very worn, almost transparent t-shirt of a Chinese woman smoking an opium pipe (?), Birkos and a quilted cotton Chinese jacket. Very continental. I'm sure the world has never seen such haphazard styling before.

My sister drove like the clappers. Down the highway, I felt every bump. Every single bump in my bump. In my heaving body. Breathe. Hold the seatbelt away. Drive behind a garbage truck. Thankfully it was 3:30am by this time. Traffic was clear. This baby had good timing. And then the Labour Aid exploded all over my foot. Excellent.

We arrived at the hospital and the guy at the front desk insisted we fill out the forms before going up to the Birth Centre. Then I, leaning over the reception desk let out an almighty moan and he realised I was in labour, so reluctantly let us go up. We went up and went into our room. Dark. Quiet. The midwife expected me to be 3cm dialated. Instead I was 8.

Briskly (as brisk as any labouring woman can) I tore off my clothes (I couldn't bear my fashion genius any longer - truth be, I can't stand being dressed when feeling ill either - must be dark, must be naked - how wrong does that sound when typed?) and got into that bath. Oh that bath. That gloriously deep, seductive and calming bath. Hot! Hot! Hot! I laboured away for the next couple of hours in that bath.

Matt had a sleep. MATT HAD A SLEEP! --- Apparently just another day in the office for him. Meanwhile...

My contractions became more and more fierce, I rode them out, but I was growing tired. I held Matt's and my sister's hands. And then my contractions. My contractions - they damn well stopped! I had to get out of the bath because apparently I was too relaxed. Damn it. There goes my water birth. All throughout the birth our wonderful ante-natal teacher had been calling us to see how things were doing. That woman is a guru.

I got comfy on that birthing ball and cushions, propped up.

And after two hours of puuuuuuushing, (and me going, I can't do it, I can't do it - and everyone else saying - you ARE doing it, you ARE doing it, and then me going - COME ON! Lleyton Hewitt stylie) that big-headed, cone-headed, Mohawk-ed baby finally, finally came out.

That there friends is how the Doctor arrived. 10:02am on the 20th May.

PottyMouthMama Grand Central:: Peak Hour

It's hitting peak hour here at PMM Grand Central. Our headquarters have been run amok with Christmas activities, and the state of the house is testament. Santa, all I want for Christmas is a housecleaner to whizz in and wave a magic wand - and begone mess! We've got glitter where you wouldn't believe. Sequins all over the kitchen table, the house smells like gingerbread, and the washing up is piling up. Presents to wrap, Christmas songs to play, and more Christmas baking on the agenda.

Our salt dough decorations are decorated - bedazzled within an inch of their life. There's a whole lotta sparkle on them there decorations, the Doctor is particularly heavy handed on the bling. What's not to love about bling? Who isn't into it?
Gingerbread biscuits are fresh out of the oven and smell divine. I may have indulged in a few too many. Just the wonky ones. One word of advice on this front, the recipe I used from this book said to put the holes in the biscuits when they were fresh out of the oven. I did this, and risked life and limb (of the gingerbread men, not me) by cracking the biscuit with my skewer. I think do it before the oven, then you eliminate this risky business.

And finally, I've been busy stitching a little onesie for a little one. A while back I began embroidering straight onto a singlet, but it proved too fiddly for me, so I ditched that in favour of this one. I did French knots for the collar. Now that took me some time, after I finally figured out why I really was getting into a knot before I even pulled the stitch through.

This means I can now cross a few things off my to-do list. Finito!

Oh The Love

So I met the newest member of our family today. Oh man. She is sweet. So tiny. So delicate. Babies really are like flowers - as the days go on, their faces seem to unfurl like petals, they blossom - the reason my daughter's middle name is Rosie.

And my sister is amazing. She's baked and birthed a beautiful healthy baby and after all that, she glows.

Women are incredible, aren't they? I always marvel at our bodies.

At the risk of getting all smoochy, I'll take a sharp right here and show another wee singlet for the wee new one. The girl needs pink. I know this gal can understand!

And you know what - I'm going to stitch some more little things for this precious new babe.

A New Babe: Birthday

I've been a little absent these last few days. Pre-typing posts so when I do get back to my 'puter, I can just hit post and be done. Poof! It's there. The beauty of desktop publishing.

So. My sister had a new baby this week. Great excitement. Great, great excitement. I get to meet the new little one today. I have butterflies just thinking about her. A new fresh baby girl. Sweet!

I've been trying to stitch a few things up for the new wee one. Well I've only done one singlet. One measly singlet, but it's made with much, much love. It's almost visible that love (along with a few wonky stitches). What little gal doesn't like a cruiser with ribbons from the handlebars. I know this big girl would love one (hint for Matt: 30th birthday fast on the approach - six months to go - layby NOW!!).

Back to the baby. Pre my own babies I used to be so, so frightened of holding babies. They are so delicate. Do you remember holding a newborn in your arms?

I always marvel at the tiny fingernails. The fragility and the miracle that is a baby. About the little heart inside that boom-boom-booms all by itself. Isn't that incredible?

Clucky much?

Four Years Later

I must have entered some sort of twilight zone since 2004, just prior to the birth of my first child, who is subsequently now three and a bit.. I've never printed any of my digital prints. Not one single photo. Never. Ever. Ever.

I need a rap over the knuckles. I need a spanking. I need some time out. I need an intervention.

Luckily I made the confession to one of my good friends yesterday. She's always on top of her photos (well not on top of them, but you know what I'm saying!), always perfectly cataloguing them, printing them, perfect - I wish I was like that. But alas, I am not, and now I have four years worth of pictures either sitting on my computer or burnt onto CDs.. Can you see where this is going?

Well once my little dude spilt milk on my laptop. I almost lost the lot - RIP my beautiful laptop - you served me well. But imagine if I had lost all of those photos!? All of those precious baby photos. But do you think I learnt my lesson? Not so much. I got a new computer, and just kept adding to my bazillion mega-mega-ultra-mega bytes worth of pixels.

Anyway, my friend, she put me onto something wild. I'm sure everyone already does this. But for me, this is genius. This is the invention I'd put just after sliced bread.. Ever since I got home yesterday from seeing my friend, I've been uploading pics to here in a bid to get on top of my photographic demise. I'm already up to 440 photos, given Rumpelstiltskin my first born, taken out six personal loans and sold my soul to pay for it. Nah, it's only 15c per print, is that cheap or what?!

Now if I can just get all my photos printed and organised before we have another baby (don't get excited, I'm certainly not up the duff, I'm just planning - be a witness - probably the only time ever!), I might have our wedding album done, our first and second born's albums up and running. Just look at me now.

An Update

My husband has been chastising me, though I know he'd vigorously deny it if you asked. Lucky he's a little lax when it comes to reading my blog, otherwise I'd be in big trouble for telling you.

You see apparently here at PottyMouthMama HQ I've neglected to update the status of his painting, and have left you, dear reader, hanging. You're probably sitting at home, drumming your fingers on the table, comfort eating, -re-watching re-runs of The Golden Girls and calling people you don't really want to talk to, all because you've been wondering, what ever happened to...

So here it is. The finished painting. I love it. It hangs beside my bed and I love waking up to see my first newborn - swaddled up, jaundiced, puffy head from two hours of pushing, ah yes, that's exactly as I remember my little love bug.

Have I mentioned my husband is an artist, first and foremost, but currently he's masquerading as some sort of crazed office worker at an insurance company..? Oh the things you do to bring home the bacon.

He's been hung in the Dobell at the Art Gallery of NSW, has had a number of exhibitions, and he's hopefully working towards a new show soon.. Watch this space (because apparently I am doing his PR too).

Which brings me to tell you that the Dobell is currently on at AGNSW. For anyone that doesn't know, it's Australia's most prestigious drawing prize, and usually amasses a number of wonderful works. If you're in the city and want something to do, check it out.

Pretty Things!

Recently I made a great purchase. A really great purchase.

It's something that I admire each and every day, and I know is going to be a favourite for my baby girl as she grows up.

I've had a bit of an Etsy addiction for a couple of years, and bought some great things from sellers on there, from all around the world. It's amazing to think how many talented people there are in this world!

But this one, this one is definitely one of my very, very favourite purchases.

Tactile and very pleasing to the eye, each time I look at it, there's something new that catches my attention.

onegirl is one very clever lady!

Just look at that. Beautiful!

Now I am just waiting for someone to have a baby girl so I can give them one too!

Singapore Sling

I'm done with cocktail hour. But this little sling is just the thing for the bewitching hour, or getting out and about with babe close to my warmth and the boom-boom-boom (or gagoong, gagoong - ala Patrick Swayze - hey nobody puts Baby in the corner - just in the sling) of my heartbeat. I think it's why my little babes are pretty calm little cats.

I bought this Baba Sling back when I was pregnant with Noah. I used it quite a bit when he was a wee bub, and even right up until around 9-12 months (they can be used up to two years - yikes!). If I was nipping to the shops or didn't want to take the pram, it was perfect to just pop him in and tote him around. Plus that closeness with your babe. Sigh. There's nothing quite like it.

Now Scout's making good use of it too - and I think it will get even more use from her now that I'm more confident using it. There are seven different ways to use it, and Scout loves it - sleeps well in it, and then I can just push the single pram around if Noah doesn't want to hotfoot it around town. Noah thinks it's pretty cool and calls it "Mummy and Scouty's pouch" - he also has a keen interest in kangaroos.

So Scout's more of a sling baby - so when we went to swimming a few weeks ago, and I pulled out the pram for Scout to sleep in, and settled her in there - Noah aghast said "What about me? Where am I going to fit?". Poor little tike thought I was putting him out.

Sweet sling love. Even if it's non-alcoholic.

Land Ho!

Noah has swimming lessons on Wednesdays... Wednesdays are a leeetle tricky, because I have Scout, and as everyone who's had a baby knows, there's no such thing as perfect timing - so I have to do my best to get to the pool early to get her settled, Noah ready, and also myself - as I have to grace the world with my non-pool-perfect body. Snigger snigger.

Thankfully, there is a woman there who has a son who is 4, and he does the classes with the teacher and a little girl - so the mama is sitting on the sidelines.. She's so super dooper lovely that she's offered to look after Scout while I am fine-tuning my synchronised swimming routines.. Or rather, helping Noah negotiate putting his head under water without swallowing a few mouthfuls of heavily chlorinated water.

What makes this woman even kinder is that she has a baby girl just four weeks older than Scout - so I am sure it's the last thing you want to be doing is minding someone else's bub for 1/2 hour.. But man, she is a good woman, and I am super dooper lucky.

So today to say thank you - I took her a hot, hot pink begonia.. It was so pretty, almost flamingo pink. Which kind of reminded me of one of my sister, Choccy Bangles recent posts of things she's lusting after.

Anyway, swimming went well. Noah's confidence has grown immensely over the past few weeks, where at the first week he was crawling into the water like a lil' old man, today he was bounding down the foam and jumping into my arms. But he's a boy who definitely knows when enough is enough telling me, 'I'm finished' on more than one occasion. Or even 'I'm not doing that again'. You can't argue with a mind already made up.

We finished up with Noah walking around in the pool (he can touch the ground in the shallow end) and then telling me he wasn't doing any more swimming, he was dancing instead. Funny little guy.

Afterwards we rushed home, me juggling three separate bags (which makes me think DANG! - I need a new bag) to feed Scout, get Noah's lunch and get them both into bed so I could get some work done. Sigh. Back to work so soon, thankfully it's just small bits and pieces at this stage before things start to ramp up later in the year.

Thrifting Is Not a Past Time, It's a Blood Sport

I mentioned over the weekend that I had been thrifting.. Here's the proof of my spoils.

A gorgeous tea cup and the three hand-painted dishes.. The necklace was a separate score from E-Bay a few years ago.

The store I visited was super busy on Saturday morning.. I was glad I got there when I did, shortly after I had arrived a couple came in and worked their way over everything - luckily I'd already nabbed what I wanted and was ready to pay and go. Just proves you have to be there early, otherwise you miss out!

Sadly the weekend, as always went too quickly.. Though there were a few crazy-funny highlights, such as my father-in-law's clothesline banter about his underwear (yes, it's true) - I mean, what do you say to that?? The fact that Matt and I had to camp out in Noah's bedroom because the house behind us was throwing a huge 21st birthday party complete with mega-watt amped music (thanks for that guys). Noah naming his goldfish - the black one is Dang (!), the gold one is Mummy Fish, and the silver one is Nemo - and his palpable excitement at cleaning out the tank in preparation.

Yesterday we went to playgroup in the morning, much to Noah's delight. I had to wake poor Scout up to go, and she was a little displeased after her sleeps were interrupted, but we had a good time. It was craft week, so Noah got to make a cat and a lion from some shapes. They're now stuck proudly on the wall on his art corner above his newly acquired fish tank. Noah loves showing people his artworks.

Today I've been priming a canvas for him to work on over the week. It's meant to be for Scout's wall, so we'll see how we go. I've opted for a soft lilac and rose pink. I'll keep you updated on the progress but for now it's a small canvas with lilac - nothing too exciting - yet!

As for the little gal in my life, she's been having great sun kicks when she's up, and loves this great book I discovered pre-Christmas at Bray's Kids in Balmain. As is recommended for small babies, the book is made up of gorgeous photographs of black, white and red objects. Its graphic content keeps Scout amused for long periods of time (well as long as a 10 week old is interested, say 10 minutes?!), plus it's good for brain development too.

Designed by NZ photographer Kimberley Kent, there are a couple of other different types you can get. I think it's such a great idea, and is in such a format that you can tuck it in beside them during change time, or down the side of the bassinet for baby's viewing pleasure!

I was also madly looking for a mobile to hang above the change table. When Noah was a babe we had one, but sadly somehow it got a little broken in his cupboard. I found a graphic black and white baby mobile that's designed to entertain and stimulate the new baby. Scout also loves these shapes too - tracking them from one side to the other - they're very interesting to her!

I am still waiting for my husband to put it together for me, so for now it's in pieces near her change table.. But I did just find this so you can put your own together very easily. Dang - now why didn't I find this earlier?

But for now I am enjoying just being at home alone. Both my parents-in-law are away for 10 days (yeehaaaa!) and the freedom that comes with that is sweet.

Since we moved in with my parents-in-law (three years ago - today!) I've felt a little under the thumb. Or more likely under surveillance. As soon as we walk out our front door (we have a separate section) they come out theirs to find out where we're going. As soon as we come into the garage, they come out to see where we've been. Matt tells me it's good material for my writing.

Having had so much independence since I was 18, to give it away is hard to live with. While we're very fortunate to live here, it comes at a high cost ie my sanity. But onwards and upwards, we are looking for a place to move to, and thankfully we don't have to hurry.. So the search continues.

I'll Try To Keep It Brief

When did I go from being someone that only wears g-strings to someone that only wears a full brief?

I've also gone from being someone who wears pretty bras to someone that wears pretty ugly bras.

The transition occurred shortly before I gave birth to my first child and sadly I've not gone back. I've become a bonafide hipster brief junkie. I can't go past the sublime comfort of the Bonds Hipsters. More boyleg than cottontail, these utilitarian knickers see me through day in and day out (a new pair each day of course) - but they're certainly not the sort of lingerie your husband longs to discover once (hey - if) he tears your clothes off in a blaze of passion.

I'd until recently been hoarding my BC (BC - before-children) lingerie. Occasionally I'd take them from the far flung corner of my drawer - inspect the intricate lace, the candy-like confections of colour - pale pinks, creams, lavenders. Then I'd replace them for the day I would suddenly transition back into an undercover saucy minx.

They've not been worn for three years. Finally today I held a silent ceremony of sorts and extradited them to better places (read: the charity bin, and the bin). It's over. My body's changed and I no longer wear them. If I do go back to my former lingerie life, surely by that time I deserve some new lacy lovelies. Plus my growing Hipster collection needs some more space - not only that - my derriere has now reached J-Lo proportions - but that's for another post.

So why do mummies have to relegate themselves to comfy - but ugly - undies?

I realise mummies do not exclusively wear briefs. One of my sister's friends was in denial that she was in labour one day, went shopping with her husband and decided that they really should drop into the hospital just to make sure all was well. Her labour progressed before they had a chance to shoot home and pick up her labour bag. She was wearing her obligatory nude g-string. After the birth she had no choice but to don her g-string once more - this time with the rude over-sized maternity pad that was so large it could probably also double as a surfboard - balanced on the tight-rope of her knickers.. Not comfy. So there is at least one reason mummies have been conned into briefs.

I'm also just back into nursing bras and joyfully discovered the Bonds Bumps range. Comfy, functional. Boring (in a palette of black, white, nude - and who wears this colour MAUVE?) and plain cotton but supportive of my new found lady lumps. Plus they're tough enough to withstand the wear and tear (and spillages) of an eight-times a day feeder.

Hot Milk (http://www.hotmilklingerie.co.nz/) make foxy lingerie for foxy mamas - but they're always sold out in Australia - which just goes to prove - mamas want to look hot, but there's only so many mamas that can be hot before they run out of hot knickers.

My professionally fitted Berlei feeding bra is appalling. It doesn't fit. My Anita Maternity bra has bitten the dust - and really, it wasn't that pretty to start with. And I quickly discarded my ugly Finelines bras as soon as I finished nursing my firstborn - they were unfit for anyone to see, they were so ugly they were an embarrassment. Elle Macpherson's Bendon range has pretty bras - but they don't fit. I've trekked countless websites searching for an answer to my unattractive lingerie - but to no avail.

So for now I am just settling on the trusty Bonds underwear. Comfy knickers that don't ride, and bras that verge on the boring, but they're comfortable and they do the job. My BC underwear lies testament that I did once have respect for my lingerie drawer, but for now, there's no option but to go for comfort.