....I'd never really thought about that before but it's interesting. I'm not even sure that it's useful, but this article about 'why it's so hard for us to recover from being suicidal' is one of those things that, like it or not, is going to compost in my head and then inform the way I think. What do you think? What about when suicidal ideation becomes a comforting (if terrifying) habit? The understanding that I really shouldn't top myself because I have kids to look after has probably kept me alive during the bad* weeks, but that protective factor is something I grieve over because now I don't even have that escape..
*Doktor Freud would have chortled. I made a typo and originally 'bad' was written as 'mad' - comedy gold!
Showing posts with label illness/injury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label illness/injury. Show all posts
05/09/2016
06/11/2015
Medication
So many times people ask me if I shouldn't 'have a rest' from my medication. These are often the same people who suggest people with depression should just remember how good they have it compared with people in Syria/current the international hotspot, or suggest that we harden up (We are the toughest people you will ever meet. We do battle with our own minds). The short answer is 'no' but it's slightly more complicated than that.
Imagine I was an asthmatic (I'm not). Would anyone suggest I needed a rest from my preventer medication? Even if I wasn't getting symptoms or having asthma attacks no one would question the decision to be on medication, made in conjunction with the relevant health professionals. In fact, if I felt all better and started talking about stopping my preventer medication someone would remind me that without it I sometimes get really sick.
Have you ever thought an asthmatic should just toughen up and keep breathing? Have you thought they should just appreciate the oxygen they can get and stop worrying about what they can't have? Have you avoided talking about difficult subjects because you didn't want them upset, thinking it might trigger an attack? If an asthmatic needs to take some time off work or study while they get their symptoms under control how do you view it? What about if they decide they need to use a variety of approaches (medical and lifestyle) to deal with their illness? I have several friends who won't come to BBQs or bonfires on the cooler months because they say they can't breathe. I don't judge them negatively for that.
My illness isn't that different. I use meds, lifestyle and talk therapy to deal with it. When I have a major depressive episode I try to catch it as early as possible and put some things in place to help me manage while things are difficult. I try to remember, when I feel good, that my meds are preventative because when things are good it's easy to forget how bad things can get (what's that saying about forgetting pain?).
All that being said, there are many different ways to manage mental illness, and more and more research is being done on gut-brain interactions, and I am not going to criticize anyone who chooses to deal with their illness in other ways - as long as it is working for them and their loved ones!
Imagine I was an asthmatic (I'm not). Would anyone suggest I needed a rest from my preventer medication? Even if I wasn't getting symptoms or having asthma attacks no one would question the decision to be on medication, made in conjunction with the relevant health professionals. In fact, if I felt all better and started talking about stopping my preventer medication someone would remind me that without it I sometimes get really sick.
Have you ever thought an asthmatic should just toughen up and keep breathing? Have you thought they should just appreciate the oxygen they can get and stop worrying about what they can't have? Have you avoided talking about difficult subjects because you didn't want them upset, thinking it might trigger an attack? If an asthmatic needs to take some time off work or study while they get their symptoms under control how do you view it? What about if they decide they need to use a variety of approaches (medical and lifestyle) to deal with their illness? I have several friends who won't come to BBQs or bonfires on the cooler months because they say they can't breathe. I don't judge them negatively for that.
My illness isn't that different. I use meds, lifestyle and talk therapy to deal with it. When I have a major depressive episode I try to catch it as early as possible and put some things in place to help me manage while things are difficult. I try to remember, when I feel good, that my meds are preventative because when things are good it's easy to forget how bad things can get (what's that saying about forgetting pain?).
All that being said, there are many different ways to manage mental illness, and more and more research is being done on gut-brain interactions, and I am not going to criticize anyone who chooses to deal with their illness in other ways - as long as it is working for them and their loved ones!
25/09/2015
I hate post titles! So awkward. Weirdly, I like emails to have good clear subject lines though. How about 'Therapist visit recap' - will that do?
On Wednesday I met with the psychiatrist I had been seeing during my hospital stay. I didn't get any more clarity about the vague hint of a diagnosis he gave me but there were some really good things about the visit.
I was able to be really clear with him about a few things that he'd said to me that I thought were insensitive. I wasn't accusatory, just clear about how I felt. It was difficult and awkward, but he responded really nicely, explaining why he had asked what he'd asked and acknowledging that given the topic, it had been inappropriate (sorry for being vague, but it was bad enough talking about it the first time around). I also was able to explain the things I did like about seeing him - he's a clever, sharp and insightful guy, with a good heart. The weirdest thing was saying goodbye to him. It was incredibly awkward - a wave or nod is far too casual for someone who you have sat and sobbed in front of while talking about the reasons for your self-loathing but a hug is off the cards with shrinks. Anyhow, I shook his hand, feeling weirdly male, or perhaps German, and realised, suddenly, that he was only my height, perhaps even a shade shorter. When I was in hospital and described him to someone and I remember saying that he was really tall, well over 6 feet/1.8m in my estimation. To realise he was only my height was to understand quite viscerally how differently my mind was working now, compared with when I was admitted. I still have bad days, bad hours, some times are really shit, but I feel, both literally and metaphorically, big enough to cope now.
Now, how to get some exercise factored into my days. Any tips? I'm thinking it might be more important long term than giving up booze. I'm not feeling any clarity or goodness that the people I know who have stopped drinking talk about. On the up-side, I'm not feeling bad about it either, and it hasn't been particularly difficult or fraught.
I was able to be really clear with him about a few things that he'd said to me that I thought were insensitive. I wasn't accusatory, just clear about how I felt. It was difficult and awkward, but he responded really nicely, explaining why he had asked what he'd asked and acknowledging that given the topic, it had been inappropriate (sorry for being vague, but it was bad enough talking about it the first time around). I also was able to explain the things I did like about seeing him - he's a clever, sharp and insightful guy, with a good heart. The weirdest thing was saying goodbye to him. It was incredibly awkward - a wave or nod is far too casual for someone who you have sat and sobbed in front of while talking about the reasons for your self-loathing but a hug is off the cards with shrinks. Anyhow, I shook his hand, feeling weirdly male, or perhaps German, and realised, suddenly, that he was only my height, perhaps even a shade shorter. When I was in hospital and described him to someone and I remember saying that he was really tall, well over 6 feet/1.8m in my estimation. To realise he was only my height was to understand quite viscerally how differently my mind was working now, compared with when I was admitted. I still have bad days, bad hours, some times are really shit, but I feel, both literally and metaphorically, big enough to cope now.
Now, how to get some exercise factored into my days. Any tips? I'm thinking it might be more important long term than giving up booze. I'm not feeling any clarity or goodness that the people I know who have stopped drinking talk about. On the up-side, I'm not feeling bad about it either, and it hasn't been particularly difficult or fraught.
22/09/2015
Post Discharge Follow Up Appointment
I think I'm pretty much well now. Or should that be 'managed'? I see myself as having a chronic illness that's managed but has occasional flare ups. If I'm lucky I can get treatment before the flare ups get too bad. Maybe one day I will be unlucky enough that my illness will kill me. Anyhow, my meds seem to be working pretty well and I'm coping ok with normal stresses, but sometimes, suddenly, things suck all over again...
Y'know when you've had the 'flu, and you are finally feeling better, your body has stopped aching, the exhaustion has lifted and you think you're invincible, so much energy... Then suddenly the wind is knocked out of your sails and all you can do is just find a place to crumple into a weary little heap?. I think that's what is going on for me now. Some days people ask how I'm doing and I'm all "I'M BETTER!" but a bit too bright, too intense and then without a noticeable trigger I'm suddenly all teary, having what are euphemistically called 'intrusive thoughts' that I could really do without and generally having difficulty coping.
Tomorrow I have the follow up appointment with the psychiatrist I had while in hospital. We are going to argue a bit over my diagnoses (he will give me a report that I can use with mental health professionals going forward) but it will be OK. I've about half of the things I planned to do after coming out of hospital (the two things I'm most happy about are that I've downloaded a mood tracking app and I'm using it! And I haven't lapsed with my plan to be 100 days sober).
So now I need to get stuck in to writing an assignment for uni. And no matter how stressful or triggering it is, I still have to do it.
Y'know when you've had the 'flu, and you are finally feeling better, your body has stopped aching, the exhaustion has lifted and you think you're invincible, so much energy... Then suddenly the wind is knocked out of your sails and all you can do is just find a place to crumple into a weary little heap?. I think that's what is going on for me now. Some days people ask how I'm doing and I'm all "I'M BETTER!" but a bit too bright, too intense and then without a noticeable trigger I'm suddenly all teary, having what are euphemistically called 'intrusive thoughts' that I could really do without and generally having difficulty coping.
Tomorrow I have the follow up appointment with the psychiatrist I had while in hospital. We are going to argue a bit over my diagnoses (he will give me a report that I can use with mental health professionals going forward) but it will be OK. I've about half of the things I planned to do after coming out of hospital (the two things I'm most happy about are that I've downloaded a mood tracking app and I'm using it! And I haven't lapsed with my plan to be 100 days sober).
So now I need to get stuck in to writing an assignment for uni. And no matter how stressful or triggering it is, I still have to do it.
30/08/2015
Mental illness (nope, I don't have mental health at the moment)
I've been thinking a lot about ideas around accepting help, asking for help contrasted with autonomy and self-reliance in the context of mental illness. In my own self-critical way I told myself to shut-up and deal with the fact I need help, that to get it I need to ask for it, I don't need to 'prove' I need it and receiving help is difficult and weird but I'm going to have to get used to it. Thinking about this, and thinking about the process of getting better made me draw some analogies with the equivalent process when recovering from physical illness or injury. I used physical illness and recovery as a metaphor for mental illness with a friend and it seemed to be useful, so I thought I'd flesh out those ideas a bit.
In the acute stage of, say, a sprained ankle you need to take meds (anti-inflammatories, pain meds), rest and elevate the ankle, use ice and compression. You will probably need some help with what healthcare professionals call 'activities of daily living' (ADLs) because you can't and shouldn't use that ankle to hobble around to look after yourself. In the acute stage of mental illness you may need meds (which might be different to your usual meds), you need to rest (sometimes resting your thinking and feeling parts requires meds. A chemical compression bandage, if you will) and sometimes you need help with ADLs. You may be able to walk ok but the part that needs rest is the thinking and feeling part, so making decisions, sometimes even simple everyday decision like which tshirt to wear or what to have on your toast, become totally overwhelming.
At some point the acute stage morphs into the recovery stage. With physical injuries this is the point where, if you have sort help from a medical professional, the physio might have given you a bunch of exercises to do. What questions should you ask the physio? How often should I do the exercises, will it hurt or will there just be some discomfort? When should I start to feel better and get full function back? How long will it take me to heal? What are the SMART goals of treatment? What is the long term prognosis? These questions can and should be asked of mental health professionals. For sure these questions are more difficult in the field of mental health than physical injuries and ailments but it's really important that if you have a therapist you are on the same page with respect to these things. If you aren't recieving treatment and/or don't have a therapist it's just as important to try to work out where you want to be. A psychologist/psychiatrist/therapist may give you specific exercises - what is cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) but a series of mental exercises. If you doubt this stuff works, or can work for you (which is pretty normal for depressed people) look up the research. If that is too difficult/personal/scary/etc look up brain plasticity (I liked 'The Brain that Changes Itself' by Norman Doidge) and pense on the fact that brains are incredibly powerful - if you can re-wire your brain after massive trauma then we can probably do some of the re-wiring necessary to be able to live and manage our mental illnesses.
Everybody says it, few people do it but WRITE DOWN* YOUR QUESTIONS. Doing this can be really hard when you are in the black pit of despair or when you are so anxious that you are worried about being able to keep breathing, so cut yourself some slack if you can't manage it. You could also enlist the help of a friend to do this. In fact, I have a few close friends and all of us suffer to a greater or lesser extend from mental illness. When we sense someone might be struggling we will often offer to help them make a list. Along the same lines, take a pen and paper to your appointment and try to write a few things down. Even if you ask the therapist what you should write down, it means when you walk out and suddenly realize you have very little memory of what just went on you will have something written to research or just jog your memory. Memory and cognition can be affected by mental illness, and I'm not just talking fear of impending doom or sense of self here. When I'm sick it takes me longer to process stuff, even simple stuff, and there are lots of things I don't remember so keep the pen and paper handy and don't beat yourself up when things don't go as planned.
Where does this get us? Like other illness and injury, there are steps you can take to get better, but healing often takes longer than you want it to. Even after you get back to a functional state you might find you get tired or overwhelmed more easily. As before, cut yourself some slack and surround yourself with people you feel supported but not smothered by. There IS treatment for mental illness. You can get better, even if you don't think you ever will. I have depression and anxiety and the symptoms have ebbed and flowed since my childhood. Sometimes I'm fine and sometimes I'm most definitely Not Fine. If I had proactive about treatment younger I might be better now at managing my 'twins' - the Black Dog and the Monster - but maybe not. Either way I am much better at calling for help now than ever before, I'm much better at allowing myself to heal, I'm still terrified by relapses and with this current relapse I'm trying to work on what might trigger these major episodes so I can avoid, to some extent, things spiraling out of control.
If you, or someone you love, is suffering with mental illness please work on getting some help <3 p="">
In the acute stage of, say, a sprained ankle you need to take meds (anti-inflammatories, pain meds), rest and elevate the ankle, use ice and compression. You will probably need some help with what healthcare professionals call 'activities of daily living' (ADLs) because you can't and shouldn't use that ankle to hobble around to look after yourself. In the acute stage of mental illness you may need meds (which might be different to your usual meds), you need to rest (sometimes resting your thinking and feeling parts requires meds. A chemical compression bandage, if you will) and sometimes you need help with ADLs. You may be able to walk ok but the part that needs rest is the thinking and feeling part, so making decisions, sometimes even simple everyday decision like which tshirt to wear or what to have on your toast, become totally overwhelming.
In order to help a friend in this situation don't just offer to make them toast, say 'I'd like to make you toast, is Vegemite ok or would you prefer honey?' BUT if they say they don't want toast you MUST respect their autonomy (or make the toast but reassure them you won't be offended if they don't eat it - it's like the great post on consent and cups of tea)
Even when these things are possible they might take a lot longer than normal (so don't expect your depressed friend to turn up anywhere on time, and don't give them a hard time for being late, they have almost certainly already done that for themselves).At some point the acute stage morphs into the recovery stage. With physical injuries this is the point where, if you have sort help from a medical professional, the physio might have given you a bunch of exercises to do. What questions should you ask the physio? How often should I do the exercises, will it hurt or will there just be some discomfort? When should I start to feel better and get full function back? How long will it take me to heal? What are the SMART goals of treatment? What is the long term prognosis? These questions can and should be asked of mental health professionals. For sure these questions are more difficult in the field of mental health than physical injuries and ailments but it's really important that if you have a therapist you are on the same page with respect to these things. If you aren't recieving treatment and/or don't have a therapist it's just as important to try to work out where you want to be. A psychologist/psychiatrist/therapist may give you specific exercises - what is cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) but a series of mental exercises. If you doubt this stuff works, or can work for you (which is pretty normal for depressed people) look up the research. If that is too difficult/personal/scary/etc look up brain plasticity (I liked 'The Brain that Changes Itself' by Norman Doidge) and pense on the fact that brains are incredibly powerful - if you can re-wire your brain after massive trauma then we can probably do some of the re-wiring necessary to be able to live and manage our mental illnesses.
Everybody says it, few people do it but WRITE DOWN* YOUR QUESTIONS. Doing this can be really hard when you are in the black pit of despair or when you are so anxious that you are worried about being able to keep breathing, so cut yourself some slack if you can't manage it. You could also enlist the help of a friend to do this. In fact, I have a few close friends and all of us suffer to a greater or lesser extend from mental illness. When we sense someone might be struggling we will often offer to help them make a list. Along the same lines, take a pen and paper to your appointment and try to write a few things down. Even if you ask the therapist what you should write down, it means when you walk out and suddenly realize you have very little memory of what just went on you will have something written to research or just jog your memory. Memory and cognition can be affected by mental illness, and I'm not just talking fear of impending doom or sense of self here. When I'm sick it takes me longer to process stuff, even simple stuff, and there are lots of things I don't remember so keep the pen and paper handy and don't beat yourself up when things don't go as planned.
Where does this get us? Like other illness and injury, there are steps you can take to get better, but healing often takes longer than you want it to. Even after you get back to a functional state you might find you get tired or overwhelmed more easily. As before, cut yourself some slack and surround yourself with people you feel supported but not smothered by. There IS treatment for mental illness. You can get better, even if you don't think you ever will. I have depression and anxiety and the symptoms have ebbed and flowed since my childhood. Sometimes I'm fine and sometimes I'm most definitely Not Fine. If I had proactive about treatment younger I might be better now at managing my 'twins' - the Black Dog and the Monster - but maybe not. Either way I am much better at calling for help now than ever before, I'm much better at allowing myself to heal, I'm still terrified by relapses and with this current relapse I'm trying to work on what might trigger these major episodes so I can avoid, to some extent, things spiraling out of control.
If you, or someone you love, is suffering with mental illness please work on getting some help <3 p="">
14/03/2011
Yes, I did choose to vaccinate my kids actually...
I know I rarely blog at the moment, but this has been boiling away for weeks now. I've always been pro-vaccinating, but it's an issue that keeps rearing it's ugly head for me. A few weeks ago when I was putting Kiz on the waitlist for childcare and the woman told me I'd need to verify that he'd been vaccinated. That's fine, it's what they need to do to protect us all, but when I said that he was fully vaccinated she almost looked surprised. The next week I took him in for his 18 month 'well baby check' at the Early Childhood Health Centre and when the nurse looked at his records she said that she was very pleased to see him fully vaccinated. Again, there was some level of surprise there.
Here comes the ranty part: I'm guessing that parents who refuse to vaccinate have never watched their tiny baby struggling to breathe, drowning in their own thick secretions despite hourly suctioning, from a disease that is routinely vaccinated against. I'm willing to bet good money that those non-vaccinating parents have never watched their baby go blue and limp as he stops breathing, only being rubbed back to life by hospital staff. I'm pretty sure they haven't had to press the red emergency call button or scream to the nurses' desk for help.
I've been there, done that and I'm thankful every day that I got to bring my tiny baby home with me, and that he's growing up into a funny, determined, clever, loving toddler. Pertussis, or Whooping Cough, makes older kids and adults sick. It makes us cough and cough (another name for the illness is 'The Hundred Day Cough' and it's no exaggeration) but after that generally healthy adults get well. Unfortunately it's not quite so simple for babies and small children. Babies die of this illness.
Wakefield's harmful hoax on the link between autism and vaccines was disproven about 10 years ago, and one well designed study after another continues confirms that there is no link but parents are still refusing to vaccinate their kids.
I'm quietly confident that the majority of parents who don't vaccinate their kids don't know anyone who has died or been left crippled by polio either but yet they feel that the potential harm to their child from the vaccine is higher than the risk to their child of contracting one of the diseases we vaccinate against. These people (and I know one or two) are sensible. The people I know are well educated and responsible parents, they buy cars based on their safety ratings, they do a full reference check before they let anyone babysit their kids (I read somewhere that it's middle class, university educated, parents where vaccination rates are dropping, I'll try to find a reference) but they clearly don't have a basic grasp of statistics. I am having difficulty finding the numbers on side effects and adverse reactions, however vaccines are many times safer than the diseases they prevent.
And really, this is the key point. It really is safer to vaccinate your kids than not. We all love our kids and want the best for them. We don't think twice about popping them in the car and driving somewhere, many of us have or visit backyard pools/ponds, almost all of us drink hot beverages and do at least some cooking but statistically all of these are far more likely to injure or kill our kids than giving them their shots.
I'm not going to get into herd immunity here (check out this animation for a good explanation), but every parent who exercises their choice to not vaccinate makes it more dangerous for those who can't be immunised for some medical reason and for the people whose response to the vaccination does not give them total immunity. If we can learn anything from the lessons in places like Haiti, with it's cholera epidemic, we are really only one natural disaster, one sick person, away from an epidemic. So yes, I know that vaccines aren't perfect, but I want to give my kids the best possible chance to stay healthy throughout their lives, so I choose to vaccinate my kids.
Here comes the ranty part: I'm guessing that parents who refuse to vaccinate have never watched their tiny baby struggling to breathe, drowning in their own thick secretions despite hourly suctioning, from a disease that is routinely vaccinated against. I'm willing to bet good money that those non-vaccinating parents have never watched their baby go blue and limp as he stops breathing, only being rubbed back to life by hospital staff. I'm pretty sure they haven't had to press the red emergency call button or scream to the nurses' desk for help.
I've been there, done that and I'm thankful every day that I got to bring my tiny baby home with me, and that he's growing up into a funny, determined, clever, loving toddler. Pertussis, or Whooping Cough, makes older kids and adults sick. It makes us cough and cough (another name for the illness is 'The Hundred Day Cough' and it's no exaggeration) but after that generally healthy adults get well. Unfortunately it's not quite so simple for babies and small children. Babies die of this illness.
Wakefield's harmful hoax on the link between autism and vaccines was disproven about 10 years ago, and one well designed study after another continues confirms that there is no link but parents are still refusing to vaccinate their kids.
I'm quietly confident that the majority of parents who don't vaccinate their kids don't know anyone who has died or been left crippled by polio either but yet they feel that the potential harm to their child from the vaccine is higher than the risk to their child of contracting one of the diseases we vaccinate against. These people (and I know one or two) are sensible. The people I know are well educated and responsible parents, they buy cars based on their safety ratings, they do a full reference check before they let anyone babysit their kids (I read somewhere that it's middle class, university educated, parents where vaccination rates are dropping, I'll try to find a reference) but they clearly don't have a basic grasp of statistics. I am having difficulty finding the numbers on side effects and adverse reactions, however vaccines are many times safer than the diseases they prevent.
And really, this is the key point. It really is safer to vaccinate your kids than not. We all love our kids and want the best for them. We don't think twice about popping them in the car and driving somewhere, many of us have or visit backyard pools/ponds, almost all of us drink hot beverages and do at least some cooking but statistically all of these are far more likely to injure or kill our kids than giving them their shots.
I'm not going to get into herd immunity here (check out this animation for a good explanation), but every parent who exercises their choice to not vaccinate makes it more dangerous for those who can't be immunised for some medical reason and for the people whose response to the vaccination does not give them total immunity. If we can learn anything from the lessons in places like Haiti, with it's cholera epidemic, we are really only one natural disaster, one sick person, away from an epidemic. So yes, I know that vaccines aren't perfect, but I want to give my kids the best possible chance to stay healthy throughout their lives, so I choose to vaccinate my kids.
 |
| Kiran, 5.5 weeks old |
14/02/2010
Where was I up to?
In the spirit of blog drought-breaking I offer you another status update style post.
Kiz got his first tooth last week and he (still) won't eat food off a spoon. After advice from various books and wise friends I've decided to not bother. I sit him in his highchair at least once a day and put food of some description in front of him. This might be soft bread, soft fruit, cooked veggies, tinned fruit or whatever is to hand that I think he won't choke on. The other day he sucked the middles out of about three home-grown cherry tomatoes and yesterday he sat on my lap and I fed him shreads of 'rice noodles with shrimp in thick egg sauce' that we were having (at a great Chinese dumpling place in Asherfield). I did try to pick the bits that weren't quite as covered in prawn-y egg sauce but I'm also confident now that he isn't going to have an anaphalactic reaction to eitehr prawns or egg because he must have ingested some.
Asher is every bit the three-and-a-half year old. He tries our patience daily and yet brings us more delight than I had imagined. He calls 100s and 1000s (sprinkles) 'twothousands' and has elaborate conversations about his imaginary friends. Beebee and Channa are friends while apparently Franj and Leego are customers. Often he tells us what they are having for dinner, or talks about Beebee's yellow car or Franj and Leego having five swimming pools at their place.
As I was lying next to Asher going to sleep last night he felt a little warm and sounded slighly snuffly and when I took his Temp it was about 38C so we stripped him down a bit but he seemed happy enough. He was a lot hotter at 4 or 5am but agina, his spirits were good, so I lay with him while he went back to sleep. This morning he's a bit snotty but cheerful, so we are off to Baby M's first birthday party.
Happy Chinese New Year everyone!
Kiz got his first tooth last week and he (still) won't eat food off a spoon. After advice from various books and wise friends I've decided to not bother. I sit him in his highchair at least once a day and put food of some description in front of him. This might be soft bread, soft fruit, cooked veggies, tinned fruit or whatever is to hand that I think he won't choke on. The other day he sucked the middles out of about three home-grown cherry tomatoes and yesterday he sat on my lap and I fed him shreads of 'rice noodles with shrimp in thick egg sauce' that we were having (at a great Chinese dumpling place in Asherfield). I did try to pick the bits that weren't quite as covered in prawn-y egg sauce but I'm also confident now that he isn't going to have an anaphalactic reaction to eitehr prawns or egg because he must have ingested some.
Asher is every bit the three-and-a-half year old. He tries our patience daily and yet brings us more delight than I had imagined. He calls 100s and 1000s (sprinkles) 'twothousands' and has elaborate conversations about his imaginary friends. Beebee and Channa are friends while apparently Franj and Leego are customers. Often he tells us what they are having for dinner, or talks about Beebee's yellow car or Franj and Leego having five swimming pools at their place.
As I was lying next to Asher going to sleep last night he felt a little warm and sounded slighly snuffly and when I took his Temp it was about 38C so we stripped him down a bit but he seemed happy enough. He was a lot hotter at 4 or 5am but agina, his spirits were good, so I lay with him while he went back to sleep. This morning he's a bit snotty but cheerful, so we are off to Baby M's first birthday party.
Happy Chinese New Year everyone!
11/09/2009
All's well that ends well
The swelling in Asher's mouth has gone down, and decreased our distress. The tooth fairy was a success, although we haven't played the game yet and Asher's fever vanished and both the boys are now a picture of health. I'm a bit worried about the sign at Asher's Kindy that said there had been a confirmed case of measles at the the centre because baby K isn't due for his Measles, Mumps Rubella vaccine until he's 12 moths old. I would just *hate* him to get sick again, particularly while we are away on holiday.
Speaking of the holiday - I am getting really excited. Sanjay and I both need some time out from the daily grind, even if we will still be doing the very much full-time job of parenting a preschooler and an infant. I'm collecting fun stuff for Asher to do on the plane - I found a nice sticker book today and I'm considering a maths workbook that, embarrassingly enough, I think he would really love. It deals with shape recognition and sequencing and is designed for 3-6 year olds and I think he would really dig both the subject matter and the workbook format. The only reason I didn't buy it was because I felt like it was a step on the path to Kumon* and tutoring for the under 6s and that whole over-scheduling thing that freaks me out so much. I suspect I'm overthinking the whole thing and I should have just shelled out the damn $7.95 or whatever.
Planning for the trip is pretty much complete - we are staying with my brother then going with E and B and baby Madi to Club Med. I never thought I was a resorty type of person, particularly the insulated world of Club Med, but I'm really looking forward to a visit to the land of the all-included resort. We are going there to switch off for a bit, not to get ourselves any 'kulcha' - I'll let you know how it all goes when I get back.
By way of a quick developmental update about both kids:
Asher: is on the path to reading by recognising more sight words (maybe about 10?), can concentrate for longer periods of time, is really good at pushing our buttons. Sanjay is slightly concerned about his 'drawing and colouring' so I'm going to look for some activities for him that use pencil skills.
Kiran: is smiling, chuckling and burbling like a lovely little magpie. He gazes at us and tracks us really well within his field of vision. He wakes us between once and three times a night and usually still feeds and goes back to sleep. He's generally a lovely cheerful little chap and a delight to have around.
* I know nothing about Kumon except that the idea of tutoring for Kindy kids freaks me out. I might check out their website now so I can bash them mercilessly or immediately enrol Asher to help him get into a selective high school (people apparently do this!).
Speaking of the holiday - I am getting really excited. Sanjay and I both need some time out from the daily grind, even if we will still be doing the very much full-time job of parenting a preschooler and an infant. I'm collecting fun stuff for Asher to do on the plane - I found a nice sticker book today and I'm considering a maths workbook that, embarrassingly enough, I think he would really love. It deals with shape recognition and sequencing and is designed for 3-6 year olds and I think he would really dig both the subject matter and the workbook format. The only reason I didn't buy it was because I felt like it was a step on the path to Kumon* and tutoring for the under 6s and that whole over-scheduling thing that freaks me out so much. I suspect I'm overthinking the whole thing and I should have just shelled out the damn $7.95 or whatever.
Planning for the trip is pretty much complete - we are staying with my brother then going with E and B and baby Madi to Club Med. I never thought I was a resorty type of person, particularly the insulated world of Club Med, but I'm really looking forward to a visit to the land of the all-included resort. We are going there to switch off for a bit, not to get ourselves any 'kulcha' - I'll let you know how it all goes when I get back.
By way of a quick developmental update about both kids:
Asher: is on the path to reading by recognising more sight words (maybe about 10?), can concentrate for longer periods of time, is really good at pushing our buttons. Sanjay is slightly concerned about his 'drawing and colouring' so I'm going to look for some activities for him that use pencil skills.
Kiran: is smiling, chuckling and burbling like a lovely little magpie. He gazes at us and tracks us really well within his field of vision. He wakes us between once and three times a night and usually still feeds and goes back to sleep. He's generally a lovely cheerful little chap and a delight to have around.
* I know nothing about Kumon except that the idea of tutoring for Kindy kids freaks me out. I might check out their website now so I can bash them mercilessly or immediately enrol Asher to help him get into a selective high school (people apparently do this!).
05/09/2009
When too much drama isn't enough.....
My poor baby lost one of his front teeth today! He went scooting with Sanj after our morning trip to the local cafe and Sanjay was at him to scoot rather than walk with the scooter. He was apparently going down a fairly gentle hill and braking really well when he took a tumble. His tooth came out, cleanly, there is a big gruesome gash on the inside of his top lip, a small graze on his forehead and the top lip is swollen, bruised and very slightly grazed. Sanjay called me straight away, before there was any clear idea of the damage (well, he'd picked up the surprisingly clean tooth from the pavement so he had *some* idea) and I was really glad that they were still with my family - my mother went into 'nurse mode' and calmed both Sanjay and I down considerably when she worked out that there was little likelihood of permanent damage. I'm really really glad the kid was wearing his helmet (or, as Asher calls it, his 'helment')The bleeding had stopped by the time they got home (they were less than 10 minutes walk away). We gave him Panadol and got him to rinse his mouth with salty water a fair bit. This afternoon we called a family friend who happens to be a paediatric dentist. Apparently we did the right things - don't put baby teeth back in because it doesn't help, it can cause damage and there is a risk of infection. Check the gum for debris and if the tooth has been pushed up at all look for signs of broken bone in the top jaw (a line or ridge in the gum or something 'wrong' with the kids smile). Don't brush the area with toothpaste while it's tender just wipe the surrounding teeth with a cotton bud dipped in salty water. Then all you need to do is wait til the kid grows his or her adult teeth which happens, on average, at six-and-a-half. Meanwhile you have to look at you little one and their gappy face every single day and think about what you could have done to avoid the accident. At this stage poor Sanjay is beating himself up bigtime ('I knew he didn't sleep well last night and when he's tired he gets clumsy') and I am wondering if we should see a dentist before we go to Singapore (not sure why, just feels like we should get an official 'all clear').
It never rains but it pours, so the saying goes, and I've had enough of illness and injury around my kids!
17/08/2009
The Emergency Department
This proves I'm a bad blogger - I had a whole week in hospital with The Little Kiran without updating here.
The short version is that I went to the GP because baby K wasn't breathing right and was coughing and seemed unwell. Since he's so little I took him to the doctor who said she thought it was probably bronchiolitis and that we should go to the emergency department because the baby probably needed oxygen and monitoring. We went, spent almost 24 hours there (check the photo - thiswas my chair in the ED. It unfolds to a squeeky, narrow, vinyl covered 'bed') and then we were admitted to the childrens ward.
Kiran was still in respiratory distress and needing a bit of oxygen and then, on Friday the swab results came back and it turned out that he had pertussis (whooping cough). The coughing fits started to get more outrageous as they entered the paroxysmal stage - he had an apnea after a coughing fit on Friday night, and another one on Saturday night. By Sunday he was kind of flat and waxy and I was pretty unhappy about his condition but there was no apnea. Monday night there was another apnea, and this time there was not much of a coughing fit beforehand and I kinda lost my cool about the whole situation. So of course, being a baby, he started to pick up on Tuesday and by Thursday he was a different baby and able to come home without me freaking out.
So I was cooped up in a hospital room with Kiran for over 8 days, leaving once a day for half an hour to head downstairs to get a coffee. My birthday was on the Friday and my family brought Pizzas. Sanjay spent his time looking after Asher, bringing food and clothing for me and trying to fit some work in around the edges. Our families were awsome and helped out wherever they could.
I might fill in some details later, but there was one funny moment: I was sitting in the ED breastfeeding and a nurse came over and was talking to me. After about half a minute she realised I was feeding and apologised profusely and closed the curtains. Um, lady, thanks but you were talking to me for half a minute before you realised, so I'm not being that indiscreet and I'm not fussed. Also, don't close the curtains because the nurses desk is my source of amusement here. It made me chuckle.
I processed my experience by taking photos and there are pics up on Flickr. Happily we are home now and getting healthier by the day. Kiran is a lovely baby, 7 weeks old tomorrow. He smiles and chuckles and gazes at me. He loves being carried in the Ergo and grizzles in the evening just like any other baby. We are so happy to be home, safe and healthy!
The short version is that I went to the GP because baby K wasn't breathing right and was coughing and seemed unwell. Since he's so little I took him to the doctor who said she thought it was probably bronchiolitis and that we should go to the emergency department because the baby probably needed oxygen and monitoring. We went, spent almost 24 hours there (check the photo - thiswas my chair in the ED. It unfolds to a squeeky, narrow, vinyl covered 'bed') and then we were admitted to the childrens ward.
Kiran was still in respiratory distress and needing a bit of oxygen and then, on Friday the swab results came back and it turned out that he had pertussis (whooping cough). The coughing fits started to get more outrageous as they entered the paroxysmal stage - he had an apnea after a coughing fit on Friday night, and another one on Saturday night. By Sunday he was kind of flat and waxy and I was pretty unhappy about his condition but there was no apnea. Monday night there was another apnea, and this time there was not much of a coughing fit beforehand and I kinda lost my cool about the whole situation. So of course, being a baby, he started to pick up on Tuesday and by Thursday he was a different baby and able to come home without me freaking out.
So I was cooped up in a hospital room with Kiran for over 8 days, leaving once a day for half an hour to head downstairs to get a coffee. My birthday was on the Friday and my family brought Pizzas. Sanjay spent his time looking after Asher, bringing food and clothing for me and trying to fit some work in around the edges. Our families were awsome and helped out wherever they could.
I might fill in some details later, but there was one funny moment: I was sitting in the ED breastfeeding and a nurse came over and was talking to me. After about half a minute she realised I was feeding and apologised profusely and closed the curtains. Um, lady, thanks but you were talking to me for half a minute before you realised, so I'm not being that indiscreet and I'm not fussed. Also, don't close the curtains because the nurses desk is my source of amusement here. It made me chuckle.
I processed my experience by taking photos and there are pics up on Flickr. Happily we are home now and getting healthier by the day. Kiran is a lovely baby, 7 weeks old tomorrow. He smiles and chuckles and gazes at me. He loves being carried in the Ergo and grizzles in the evening just like any other baby. We are so happy to be home, safe and healthy!
20/10/2008
Wax, or The Scary Near-Drowning Incident
This is an incredibly tangential approach to the Unplug Your Kids Projects theme of the week - wax. I'm using the theme as a springboard for 'fessing up about something truly horrible that happened to us the other day in the hope of reminding everyone about the dangers of drowning! (and we were very Unplugged at the time, considering we were on the beach).
Last week at the beach Asher and his friends were getting water in their buckets and coming up and tipping it on the sand, and Asher kept going into the water a bit further in each time. He is usually pretty safe and I was up the top of the beach watching, knowing I really should take my sneakers off, roll up my jeans and head down to the edge of the water. I knew I needed to be close to him to remind him not to go deeper than his knees and to fish him out if he fell over but I really didn't want to get all sandy and wet. While I was working myself up to removing shoes I was standing watching Asher, and my friend were sitting on the warm sand suggesting that he would be fine and I just sit down. As I was watching though, he did go under, he was quite deep and he couldn't keep his head above the water. I RAN down there and waded right in and fished him out, scooping him up under his belly to help the water out of his lungs. He coughed and gurgled a bit and was a bit shaken, so I stood him on the edge of the sand and asked him to cough the water up and spit it out. I was shaking but being as outwardly calm as I could manage so as not to freak Asher out any further. Once we went up the beach he was quite content to sit on the sand playing while I chastised myself and then peeled most of my clothes off (thankfully the aforementioned friends were able to clothe me - M gave me her towel to wear around my waist and K took her singlet off for me).
I'm normally so hyper-vigilant about burns*, water and cars (being the things that are statistically most likely to do harm to my kid) and I feel so bad about it but I've certainly learned my lesson (lots of rescue remedy yesterday afternoon helped!). Drowning is the leading cause of accidental death in 0-4 age bracket in Australia, and I am SO glad I was watching him so carefully.
Now, what does this have to do with wax? I did tell you it was a tenuous connection didn't I? Well, after the event I sat down and decided to make a plan to ensure that nothing like this happened again. I started off by thinking about why I didn't just go down to the edge of the water and the excuses I came up with were pretty pathetic. I realised that if I had been wearing a skirt and thongs (flip-flops for the North Americans!) I wouldn't have hesitated. Why wasn't I wearing a skirt? I hadn't shaved my legs! (and I don't have many skirts). So I made a plan to get my legs waxed and shop for a few more skirts or dresses. The leg-wax part of the plan went ahead and the skirt buying part is still to come.
* my father is a paediatric surgeon and burns specialist and I've grown up with a lot of very scary stories about burns and scalds. I can't help having a high level of anxiety!
Last week at the beach Asher and his friends were getting water in their buckets and coming up and tipping it on the sand, and Asher kept going into the water a bit further in each time. He is usually pretty safe and I was up the top of the beach watching, knowing I really should take my sneakers off, roll up my jeans and head down to the edge of the water. I knew I needed to be close to him to remind him not to go deeper than his knees and to fish him out if he fell over but I really didn't want to get all sandy and wet. While I was working myself up to removing shoes I was standing watching Asher, and my friend were sitting on the warm sand suggesting that he would be fine and I just sit down. As I was watching though, he did go under, he was quite deep and he couldn't keep his head above the water. I RAN down there and waded right in and fished him out, scooping him up under his belly to help the water out of his lungs. He coughed and gurgled a bit and was a bit shaken, so I stood him on the edge of the sand and asked him to cough the water up and spit it out. I was shaking but being as outwardly calm as I could manage so as not to freak Asher out any further. Once we went up the beach he was quite content to sit on the sand playing while I chastised myself and then peeled most of my clothes off (thankfully the aforementioned friends were able to clothe me - M gave me her towel to wear around my waist and K took her singlet off for me).
I'm normally so hyper-vigilant about burns*, water and cars (being the things that are statistically most likely to do harm to my kid) and I feel so bad about it but I've certainly learned my lesson (lots of rescue remedy yesterday afternoon helped!). Drowning is the leading cause of accidental death in 0-4 age bracket in Australia, and I am SO glad I was watching him so carefully.
Now, what does this have to do with wax? I did tell you it was a tenuous connection didn't I? Well, after the event I sat down and decided to make a plan to ensure that nothing like this happened again. I started off by thinking about why I didn't just go down to the edge of the water and the excuses I came up with were pretty pathetic. I realised that if I had been wearing a skirt and thongs (flip-flops for the North Americans!) I wouldn't have hesitated. Why wasn't I wearing a skirt? I hadn't shaved my legs! (and I don't have many skirts). So I made a plan to get my legs waxed and shop for a few more skirts or dresses. The leg-wax part of the plan went ahead and the skirt buying part is still to come.
* my father is a paediatric surgeon and burns specialist and I've grown up with a lot of very scary stories about burns and scalds. I can't help having a high level of anxiety!
27/06/2008
Yet Another Snotty Cold
This is really getting too much! I've been dutifully taking my echinacea and drinking my 'cold and flu' herb tea but again I'm stuck sneezing and snotty while my nostrils get sore from the constant wiping. I had planned to write a rundown of Asher's birthday, and how I feel about my baby being 2 but I just can't find it in me. Instead I'll just post a photo of my little boy blowing out the candle on his birthday cake. I apologise to him for not being able to find the birthday candles and hope he'll forgive me for using a tea light candle. You will also note that it's not really a kids birthday cake - well that's because this is the last year in a long time that I will be able to get away with making a rather adult cake (It's Nigella Lawson's 'Easy Almond Cake' from Domestic Goddess). And for the party on Saturday I'm making a number two cake.14/05/2008
Not just the grumps!
I realised, while I was throwing up in the early hours of this morning, that yesterday's grouchiness was probably brought on by the tummy bug that I appeard to have. I certainly didn't consume nearly enough of that promised white wine! Last Friday Asher threw up most of the night and I was later to learn that his little mate M was sick that night too. I was selfishly glad (although, of course, very sorry for poor M and his mummy!) because I could be pretty sure it was just a tummy bug and not an accidental food poisening or something more sinister. So I've spent the entire day today shuffling between the bed, the couch and the toilet as Sanjay stayed home from work and hung out with Asher.Asher is a bundle of boisterous toddler and when Sanjay says that "mummy's tummy hurts" Asher gives it a kiss and announces "better" just like I do with his many, many minor injuries. It's very cute for that moment, but then of course he wants to leap all over me, the couch, everything. I think his energy levels are soaring again which I guess is the beginning of what people like to call the 'terrible twos' - I was actually talking about this with some of the Crowie Mummies Posse the other day and we were laughing at how when the little people started to assert their will at around 1 we thought that was as tough as it was going to get. Now we are all getting the full-on melt-down tantrums (Asher usually keeps his for home at the moment unless he gets really cold or hungry - lucky me), some of us are getting hitting, the food refusal power trip and all the other things two year olds are famed for. I like to say that I don't negotiate with terrorists but it would be closer to the truth to say that I try to maintain consitancy in the face of all his toddler cunning. I try to take a mental step back and evaluate what is going on and whether Asher is looking for me to play with him or take him out for a change-of-scenery walk or whether he's trying to work out what is acceptable behaviour before I react. Sometimes, when he really presses my buttons, I give myself a time-out and hide for a minute or two in the kitchen (behind the baby gate) the laundry or outside - wherever I have stuff to do. When 'the experts' talk about time-outs they generally suggest not more than a minute for every year of the childs age and I just wish I could have *ahem* over half an hour to regain my equilibrium.
Hah! I should have eaten more than a couple of crackers today - if I had it's possible that this post would be a brief pity party over my illness rather than the extended mix it's become. Ah well at least it's something.
08/10/2007
Blog Anniversary!
Well, the anniversary itself was actually a few days ago, and considering my tardiness generally with this blog, I think that five days late is perfectly acceptable as 'on-time'.
I was lying on the couch a few minutes ago (feeling terrible - I'm coming down with something that feels like the Black Death. I hope Asher doesn't get it from me), and wanting to get up and blog but only having an amorphous swirl of ideas of exactly what I wanted to write about, when I started wondering why I bothered writing here at all. Now, although that sounds like a terribly melodramatic and depressive thing to think it actually wasn't, because I recognise that I get something out of blogging but I'm really not sure what. Anyhow, I thought drag myself from the couch to the computer and check when the anniversary of the blog was so that I could craft an excellent 'what I've learned from blogging' type post, but since I'm already late I'll just cobble something together as usual, and probably go to sleep tonight thinking of ways it could have been a better post.
I guess the first and most wanky benefit of the whole blogging thing for me is that I'm slowly, slowly, finding a voice. Since high school some time I've believed I'm a poor writer and although that hasn't gone away I feel a little more confident about getting my ideas across. I wouldn't have been able to start writing if I didn't have Asher to write about - I didn't start this to muse and ponder, just to record the little guy's developmental milestones and perhaps my state of mind, in lieu of a baby book. A budding confidence in writing is a happy side effect.
Ironically, I also have told barely anyone about the blog. In a burst of enthusiasm I told a few 'internet friends' (and IRL friends who I see more of inside the computer than out these days) and Emma and Brendan, because they were away for an extended period of time and writing their own blog, so I thought I could keep in touch and still maintain my record as worst long-distance friend (which reminds me, I should 'fess up to the Irish Cousin about the blog!) but I haven't told my family or anyone else and I avoid mentioning it in front of people (er, not that there's much to mention!). So for all intents and purposes I have no readers, and I can't work out whether this helps me to feel more freedom when I write, or whether it is the overwhelming contributor to my extreme slackness in posting. Perhaps I should open up a bit now? Perhaps I'm concerned that my lackadaisical attitude to posting will irritate or disappoint? Why should I care?
On a completely different note I've also discovered that having a separate blog for dealing with food, wine and cooking is absolutely pointless, so any further discussion on such matters will be posted here. I'll also try and post Asher development updates more regularly - all about Asher's growing vocabulary coming soon!
Sanjay is in the kitchen. He's bathed Asher, read bedtime stories, and put him to bed and has just cooked me dinner - I'll sign off for now, with a small self-congratulatory grin. I'll eat my dinner, watch some TV and worry about how I'm going to look after Asher tomorrow if my headache, aching muscles and oversensitive skin turn into the flu they are threatening.
I was lying on the couch a few minutes ago (feeling terrible - I'm coming down with something that feels like the Black Death. I hope Asher doesn't get it from me), and wanting to get up and blog but only having an amorphous swirl of ideas of exactly what I wanted to write about, when I started wondering why I bothered writing here at all. Now, although that sounds like a terribly melodramatic and depressive thing to think it actually wasn't, because I recognise that I get something out of blogging but I'm really not sure what. Anyhow, I thought drag myself from the couch to the computer and check when the anniversary of the blog was so that I could craft an excellent 'what I've learned from blogging' type post, but since I'm already late I'll just cobble something together as usual, and probably go to sleep tonight thinking of ways it could have been a better post.
I guess the first and most wanky benefit of the whole blogging thing for me is that I'm slowly, slowly, finding a voice. Since high school some time I've believed I'm a poor writer and although that hasn't gone away I feel a little more confident about getting my ideas across. I wouldn't have been able to start writing if I didn't have Asher to write about - I didn't start this to muse and ponder, just to record the little guy's developmental milestones and perhaps my state of mind, in lieu of a baby book. A budding confidence in writing is a happy side effect.
Ironically, I also have told barely anyone about the blog. In a burst of enthusiasm I told a few 'internet friends' (and IRL friends who I see more of inside the computer than out these days) and Emma and Brendan, because they were away for an extended period of time and writing their own blog, so I thought I could keep in touch and still maintain my record as worst long-distance friend (which reminds me, I should 'fess up to the Irish Cousin about the blog!) but I haven't told my family or anyone else and I avoid mentioning it in front of people (er, not that there's much to mention!). So for all intents and purposes I have no readers, and I can't work out whether this helps me to feel more freedom when I write, or whether it is the overwhelming contributor to my extreme slackness in posting. Perhaps I should open up a bit now? Perhaps I'm concerned that my lackadaisical attitude to posting will irritate or disappoint? Why should I care?
On a completely different note I've also discovered that having a separate blog for dealing with food, wine and cooking is absolutely pointless, so any further discussion on such matters will be posted here. I'll also try and post Asher development updates more regularly - all about Asher's growing vocabulary coming soon!
Sanjay is in the kitchen. He's bathed Asher, read bedtime stories, and put him to bed and has just cooked me dinner - I'll sign off for now, with a small self-congratulatory grin. I'll eat my dinner, watch some TV and worry about how I'm going to look after Asher tomorrow if my headache, aching muscles and oversensitive skin turn into the flu they are threatening.
09/07/2007
New tricks!
We have a perfect prompter for a general baby development update - today Asher took his first unaided step! But since he let go of my hands, stepped forward and immediately fell flat on his face I'm pretty sure this isn't the start of walking. Actually, he isn't showing that much interest in walking generally, although he likes pottering around the room kicking his balloon while keeping my fingers gripped tightly in each of his little fists.
His communication has come along in leaps and bounds recently - as well as waving goodbye when he wants to leave, or when he wants someone else to leave, he now hisses when he wants more of something (particularly food) and has a funny open-closed hand gesture to indicate when he's finished eating something. He did it the other day when he'd finished breastfeeding on one side and wanted the other one, which was really weird, although I can't pin down exactly why. He's making some new sounds ('la') and putting together proto-words a bit more and I also think that sometimes he says 'ta' when I hand something to him, but I'm not completely certain. Some of my family hate the 'ta' thing, far preferring a proper 'thank you' but with little kids I really don't care and having him say anything that is his version of thanking someone is just fine with me.
He still loves his bath, and when he's ready to get out he starts stacking up his bath toys on the side of the bath. Sanjay, who still does 99% of bath duty tells me he can only get the plug out when the bath is part empty, but he can put it in. After his bath Sanj puts his PJs on and there is a little more play before he gets put in his sleeping bag, has a breastfeed, a story book and then gets put to bed. He generally goes to bed without complaint now, and although we sometimes hear him singing to himself for a little while, he generally drifts off by himself and doesn't wake until a relatively civilized 7am-ish unless he's sick, cold or otherwise upset. Last week he slept til 7:30 and Sanj was late for work. Of course, it doesn't always work like that -on Sunday morning woke at around 4am and needed to be cuddled on the lounge for hours. Why did it have to be the morning after Sanj had been to a bucks night and I had been solving the worlds problems with my dad and several bottles of wine?
His day sleeps are all over the place. He seemed to be transitioning to one sleep a day, but has had two sleeps for the last few days. Perhaps the one sleep a day thing was just a hiccough or perhaps he needs a little extra sleep this week because he has a bit of a cold still/again. It seems that all the little ones I know have colds at the moment so I've resigned myself completely to wiping runny noses and dealing with a slightly 'off colour' child until the weather changes.
There probably won't be another update this week - I will be baking wedding cupcakes for the lovely Bruce and Fiona who are getting married this Friday. Wish me luck, because I'm definitely going to need it!
His communication has come along in leaps and bounds recently - as well as waving goodbye when he wants to leave, or when he wants someone else to leave, he now hisses when he wants more of something (particularly food) and has a funny open-closed hand gesture to indicate when he's finished eating something. He did it the other day when he'd finished breastfeeding on one side and wanted the other one, which was really weird, although I can't pin down exactly why. He's making some new sounds ('la') and putting together proto-words a bit more and I also think that sometimes he says 'ta' when I hand something to him, but I'm not completely certain. Some of my family hate the 'ta' thing, far preferring a proper 'thank you' but with little kids I really don't care and having him say anything that is his version of thanking someone is just fine with me.
He still loves his bath, and when he's ready to get out he starts stacking up his bath toys on the side of the bath. Sanjay, who still does 99% of bath duty tells me he can only get the plug out when the bath is part empty, but he can put it in. After his bath Sanj puts his PJs on and there is a little more play before he gets put in his sleeping bag, has a breastfeed, a story book and then gets put to bed. He generally goes to bed without complaint now, and although we sometimes hear him singing to himself for a little while, he generally drifts off by himself and doesn't wake until a relatively civilized 7am-ish unless he's sick, cold or otherwise upset. Last week he slept til 7:30 and Sanj was late for work. Of course, it doesn't always work like that -on Sunday morning woke at around 4am and needed to be cuddled on the lounge for hours. Why did it have to be the morning after Sanj had been to a bucks night and I had been solving the worlds problems with my dad and several bottles of wine?
His day sleeps are all over the place. He seemed to be transitioning to one sleep a day, but has had two sleeps for the last few days. Perhaps the one sleep a day thing was just a hiccough or perhaps he needs a little extra sleep this week because he has a bit of a cold still/again. It seems that all the little ones I know have colds at the moment so I've resigned myself completely to wiping runny noses and dealing with a slightly 'off colour' child until the weather changes.
There probably won't be another update this week - I will be baking wedding cupcakes for the lovely Bruce and Fiona who are getting married this Friday. Wish me luck, because I'm definitely going to need it!
13/06/2007
Explosion!
This pic is taken by a proud parent to show of Asher's eating-with-a-spoon ability. Unfortunately he's much more interested in the camera than he is in his breakfast. Eating with a spoon is not the only developmental leap we have had, although he's still not walking on his own, just happily cruising and crawling very fast.There has also been a language explosion, suddenly Asher seem to be able to understand so much more. He has understood a connection between 'bye-bye' and waving for several months but now he starts waving when he wants to leave, or when he wants someone else to leave (sorry dad! He hadn't seen you for a while!). He has also been using 'mumma' and 'dadda' more-or-less correctly for a few weeks now (I appear from the bedroom and it's 'mumumum' or he peers under the kitchen door saying 'daaadaaaaaa' hoping that Sanjay will open it for him) but suddenly he seems to understand so much more. Over the weekend Sanjay asked if he had finished his apple the other day and Asher handed Sanjay the piece of apple that he was holding. Later on I asked Asher to put his green ball in the basket and he did it. Now that we have examples of Asher understanding language we are having to be a whole lot more careful about what we say around him. We'd both like to make sure we keep the bickering to a minimum and definitaly keep name-calling and swear words out of it.
I guess all this new language is perfectly developmentally appropriate now that we are getting so clsoe to his first birthday. Two weeks yesterday til he turns one! I'll think about it a bit more and try to reflect a bit on how this first year has been.
In terms of less pleasant explosions, and I'll spare you the details, Asher got his first gastro bug - it wasn't particulalry bad, but I'm amazed by the amount of laundry I had to do for a few days. It's taken him a week or two to start eating normal foods again, which I guess isn't surprising because he threw up everything he ate for a few days. I was so glad I am still breastfeeding him though, it is a nice source of comfort and I didn't need to worry so much about him not eating food since he was still getting breastmilk.
He is going to wake up soon, so I had better race around and get ready to get out the door while the sun is still out so he can have a crawl around on the grass before lunch.
23/05/2007
Asher got his first proper injury yesterday! He slipped in the bath (I *knew* there was a reason we try to keep him seated in the bath) and got a rather large bump on his forehead. I was in the shower at the time, getting ready to go out for a drink with some of the Baby Club mothers and when I peered out to see if everything was ok I saw Asher in Sanjay's arms with a giant red bump growing on his head. Sanjay and I freaked out slightly, wondering if we had let our child get a head injury but after a bit of fretting, plenty of Rescue Remedy for all of us and the reassurance of mum who dropped in on her way home from work Asher was declared fine and I still got to go out.
But that slightly scary milestone isn't what today's post is actually about. What I wanted to post about was the sudden realisation I've had over why parents get so anxious about what, and how much, their babies eat.
I always secretly thought that parents who worry about that kind of thing, when their babies or toddlers are obviously thriving, were being a bit ridiculous. I've always believed that as long as parents provide a variety of nutritious food kids will eat when they are hungry, and if they aren't eating they are obviously not that hungry. But now, on days like yesterday, when Asher only picks at his dinner and eats nothing but air for lunch two days running, I get all nervous that he's not eating enough. This morning I spent his nap time preparing food that I thought would be particularly appealing and when lunchtime came (we were at the park with a friend) he wolfed down almost everything I offered and then proceeded to follow his little friend M around, taking his bread and picking up dropped banana and corn cakes.
So next time he throws all his usual favourite foods on the ground in disgust and complains loudly about being confined to his highchair I need to remember that he knows best in these situations. Next time someone tells me that they think he's "skinny" and "doesn't eat much" I have to not only tell them that he eats when he's hungry, but tell myself the same thing, over and over until I believe it.
But that slightly scary milestone isn't what today's post is actually about. What I wanted to post about was the sudden realisation I've had over why parents get so anxious about what, and how much, their babies eat.
I always secretly thought that parents who worry about that kind of thing, when their babies or toddlers are obviously thriving, were being a bit ridiculous. I've always believed that as long as parents provide a variety of nutritious food kids will eat when they are hungry, and if they aren't eating they are obviously not that hungry. But now, on days like yesterday, when Asher only picks at his dinner and eats nothing but air for lunch two days running, I get all nervous that he's not eating enough. This morning I spent his nap time preparing food that I thought would be particularly appealing and when lunchtime came (we were at the park with a friend) he wolfed down almost everything I offered and then proceeded to follow his little friend M around, taking his bread and picking up dropped banana and corn cakes.
So next time he throws all his usual favourite foods on the ground in disgust and complains loudly about being confined to his highchair I need to remember that he knows best in these situations. Next time someone tells me that they think he's "skinny" and "doesn't eat much" I have to not only tell them that he eats when he's hungry, but tell myself the same thing, over and over until I believe it.
30/01/2007
Good vibes for Frannie please
Tomorrow my mother has her neck surgery. There is a lot of anxiety in the family about the process at the moment, not really helped by Frannie's joking with us every meal about it being her last. Her friend Marg says that she doesn't really think she's going to die - if she did she would start smoking again. Marg is a non smoker who quit relatively recently, which would explain that obsession. Anyhow, it's really major sugery and I'm glad it will be at North Shore Private, which is only a walk away from me. It means I can look after Jim, Clare and Michael (well, feed them, anyhow) as well as get up to see her.
Perhaps Asher has picked up on the tension, or perhaps he's just out of sorts because he's had a long weekend up at Crowdy with lots of adult stimulation. Unsurprisingly Marg and Fran spent a lot of time playing with him but Michael also loved having him about and allowed far more hair-pulling and eye-gouging than I do.
Alternatively Asher may be slightly grizzly because he's getting teeth. He is rashy in a way that he hasn't been before (impetigo cleared up nicely with the antibiotics thanks, we've started him on yoghurt) and I assume that is because he's dribbling more and sticking a wider variety of whatever he can reach into his ever-open mouth.
He could, however, just be rashy because he comes into contact with more things now that he is mobile. He really is mobile. Whenever I needed to pee, empty the dishwasher or anything else that doesn't happen in the lounge room and is difficult to do while holding a baby I leave Asher, popping my head in every 10 - 40 seconds and yesterday his two favourite places seemed to be behind the television and under the computer desk - the only two places in the room with visible unsecured power point and cords. Why is that? Why are babies attracted to things that have the potential to kill them? On Sunday morning, just before we left to come home from Crowdy we put Asher to sleep and zippered him into his tent and went downstairs to have a cup of coffee. Maybe half an hour later (bearing in mind the baby normally sleep for 40-60 minutes) Sanjay went upstairs to find Asher had escaped from his zipped-up tent and left the bedroom (passing by several plugged in amps and guitars on floor stands) and was in the hall just outside the bathroom door. He apparently grinned like anything when he saw Sanjay - I think he had woken up, got bored, so came to find us!
Anyhow, I better post this and get on with my day while Asher is asleep, but any prayers or good thoughts that can be sent to Fran tomorrow morning will be much appreciated.
Perhaps Asher has picked up on the tension, or perhaps he's just out of sorts because he's had a long weekend up at Crowdy with lots of adult stimulation. Unsurprisingly Marg and Fran spent a lot of time playing with him but Michael also loved having him about and allowed far more hair-pulling and eye-gouging than I do.
Alternatively Asher may be slightly grizzly because he's getting teeth. He is rashy in a way that he hasn't been before (impetigo cleared up nicely with the antibiotics thanks, we've started him on yoghurt) and I assume that is because he's dribbling more and sticking a wider variety of whatever he can reach into his ever-open mouth.
He could, however, just be rashy because he comes into contact with more things now that he is mobile. He really is mobile. Whenever I needed to pee, empty the dishwasher or anything else that doesn't happen in the lounge room and is difficult to do while holding a baby I leave Asher, popping my head in every 10 - 40 seconds and yesterday his two favourite places seemed to be behind the television and under the computer desk - the only two places in the room with visible unsecured power point and cords. Why is that? Why are babies attracted to things that have the potential to kill them? On Sunday morning, just before we left to come home from Crowdy we put Asher to sleep and zippered him into his tent and went downstairs to have a cup of coffee. Maybe half an hour later (bearing in mind the baby normally sleep for 40-60 minutes) Sanjay went upstairs to find Asher had escaped from his zipped-up tent and left the bedroom (passing by several plugged in amps and guitars on floor stands) and was in the hall just outside the bathroom door. He apparently grinned like anything when he saw Sanjay - I think he had woken up, got bored, so came to find us!
Anyhow, I better post this and get on with my day while Asher is asleep, but any prayers or good thoughts that can be sent to Fran tomorrow morning will be much appreciated.
11/11/2006
Milestone: Baby's first cold
The baby got a cold. Now Sanj and I also have a cold. I feel like we are living in a plague house. The little guy is starting to get better (with hot steamy showers, regular application of saline nose drops and attack with the booger extractor) but I think Sanj and I are just starting to feel the worst of it. It would be a lot easier to recover if we were able to sleep for more than abuot two hours at a time. Anyhow, we are all off to the shops now to buy tissues and orange juice and other supplies. Wish us well.
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