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It's never nice to have a sick child. I have been blessed in that it has hardly ever happened. Recently, though, I experienced a combination of sick child and really bad timing. It went something like this. 

Several days before our scheduled trip to visit my new nephew (as mentioned in "The Possessive Vibe" blog earlier), Rascal had a temperature. She was quite miserable and clingy with about 39.1 temp. She only wanted me, not Nanna or Papa who were there to come on the trip too. She had never been this ill, so it was sad in itself but in the back of my mind, I was hoping it was nothing serious that could impact our trip. I had been looking forward to this trip for months. Ever since my sister-in-law had told us she was pregnant, I knew I just had to trek over to the other side of Australia to see this little addition to our family. And when he was born, well it was a given! I had to go and see them! So I was horrified that this may turn out to be something that would stop us from travelling. One of my friend's little children had just come down with Chicken Pox so I knew it was a possibility Rascal could have it too. So we played the waiting game. 

"I knew something was wrong but nothing prepared me for what happened next."
The next day Rascal had little or no temperature. She was still not herself but was a bit better. We decided to draw a line in the sand and if we woke up on the day of travel and she had spots, we wouldn't go. If she didn't, we would. The day arrived. She woke up. I peeked under her singlet. No spots anywhere. Good. Ok. Trip's on. But she still wasn't 100%. So we left. Took the first flight (of three), a short 45 minute flight. She slept the whole way and was fine. We landed at our destination and about 20 minutes later, she vomited on Nanna. Luckily it was mostly all over herself. We cleaned that up and changed her clothes and went to wait for our second flight. She had a small amount of lunch. At this stage we couldn't tell if she was simply air-sick or if she was vomiting in relation to her temperature and an illness of some kind. 

The second flight was about 4 hours. She slept for over half of it. Then went to sit with Nanna while I got some space (she'd been sitting/sleeping on me for the whole day by this stage). About 5 minutes later she was sooky and wanted to come back to my knee. So I snuggled her in. This is where the day got more interesting. She sat up on my lap and looked at me. I knew something was wrong but nothing prepared me for what happened next. She started to be sick. Vomit was billowing up out of her. She cried after the first bout and then vomited again. Everything she had eaten in the last 24 hours came up in one incredible food fountain. 
It was everywhere. It was all over her. It was all over me. It was all over Nanna. It was all over the plane seat and down in between the seats. For one stunned second after it had finished, my mum and I looked at each other. Thoughts surged through my head. "I will never recover from this! It is not possible to clean this up!" Then we switched into gear and started wiping and stripping clothes off. We called for assistance from the air hostesses and they brought us wet towels and wipes and dry paper towels. We wiped and wiped and washed until all was as good as it could get. But it didn't take away the cloud of funk hanging around us. It stunk! Poor little Rascal was so upset. She almost looked apologetic. It was as if she understood that it was a real hassle for everyone else. I had to remove the outer layer of my clothing. (For the sake of the other passengers in the plane, I didn't remove any more, though they too were fountain-affected). We put a comfortable onesie on Rascal and she laid down and slept again. 

We counted the seconds until we could get off the stinky plane. Finally it was over and we were able to get to our hotel and clean everyone up. Rascal travelled well the next day on the final flight. She was off her food for several days but is almost back to normal now. I am relieved that I somehow survived a food fountain at 32,000 feet! It's not an experience I hope to ever repeat though, so I'm hoping for a settled stomach on the trip home! 

Meanwhile I am enjoying my gorgeous nephew and might just have to pay some excess luggage to sneak him home with me!

Libby :)
 
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Lately, as I watch Rascal grow up, I have been thinking. Dangerous I know. But I do it anyway! I’m a rebel like that. Anyway, moving on. I’ve been thinking about how she is the most important thing in life, the reason I do things I would never have previously considered doing.

For example, I don’t mind getting up early every morning and waking up if she is upset in the night. I don’t mind wiping a pooey bottom and getting splashed on in the bath. I don’t mind getting a food-sneeze when she’s eating and wiping her runny nose. I might not particularly enjoy some of those things but I wouldn't have it any other way. One thing for sure, I would usually have not done any of these things for another person.

"The concept of her not existing seems so foreign to me now."
I was also thinking about how there was a moment in time when she didn’t exist. And then she did. The concept of her not existing seems so foreign to me now. I don’t remember what life was like before she came along and I don’t remember what the point of life was. I got up every day and lived solely for myself, husband and job. As important as some of these things are, they pale in comparison to what I do now. Not that my husband isn't important, he is! But you know what I mean! It's a different type of importance. Responsibility for a whole person from the start of their life. 

I also think that, if the circumstances had have been different, she may not have been her! I mean it would have been our child and we wouldn’t have known any different, but it wouldn’t have been the exact child we have now if timing had have been different! That blows my small mind slightly. Maybe thinking really is too dangerous for me. 

As I watch her become a little person with individual thoughts and desires, I am amazed at the creation I have been given the privilege of participating in. I can’t wait to see the person she becomes as she grows up as a 2 year old, 5 year old, 10 year old, 15 year old. It will be an amazing rollercoaster ride. And I can’t wait!


Libby :)
 
My daughter has always had a big head. Ever since she was born she has had a head in the 98th percentile, though her height and weight have not followed suit. Having said this, though, her head does not look bigger than any other head I've seen on babies throughout my years. So I'm not particularly worried about it. 
"My daughter has always had a big head."
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I am, though, worried about another type of big head. Everywhere we go, and I'm sure other mums have this "problem," people tell her how gorgeous and beautiful she is. Don't get me wrong, I 100% agree with them but I can almost see Rascal's head growing before my very eyes. She grins appreciatively back at them and giggles knowingly. And I really do think she knows what they are saying. I can almost hear her replying, "I know! Aren't I?! Thank you for noticing!"  


Now, once again, don't get me wrong. I tell her she is gorgeous and beautiful all the time, constantly. I genuinely think she is and, as her mother, I should think that! But it is also a fine line between one knowing they are beautiful in their own right and being confident about it, and letting it get to one's head. 

So, as parents, how do we ensure that this line is not crossed? It is important for our daughters to have confidence in how they look and the way they were created. As a Christian, I hope I can convey to Rascal that she is beautiful because she was created beautifully by a powerful Creator. And in that she can have confidence. 

Beauty is a fickle thing and in the eye of the beholder. One day we all get old and our beauty fades and changes. It is important for Rascal to believe in beauty beyond the cosmetic. So when people tell her how gorgeous and beautiful she is, I will teach her to thank her Creator for making her that way. 

Libby :)

 
We were about 15 minutes into the swimming lesson when my nose detected that familiar waft of stench. I grimaced. Rascal had done a poo in her swimming nappy. This was the third time she had done it and I didn’t enjoy the experience. At the end of the lesson, I dashed out of the pool, instead of chatting pleasantly with the other mums and leisurely exiting the pool as I usually did. I made a bee line to the pram, wrapped her in a spare towel and put her in.
As I powerwalked (you can’t run at the pool…) toward the family change rooms, I pondered the options. In the previous two occasions that she had done this, I had used alternate methods to solve the problem. One was to lay her down on a change table and, using about four thousand wipes, slowly take off the nappy whilst wiping constantly. On the other occasion the method was to hold her over my arm and carefully peel off the nappy. Not much was still on her bottom so I simply rinsed it under the running shower. The second option had been much easier so I headed for the shower room when I got to the change room. I peeled off her yellow polka-dot swimming costume while I got the shower to a pleasant temperature. Her nappy wafted at me and I scrunched up my nose. Then I took a deep, slow breath and headed toward the water stream. 

I began to peel off the nappy, slowly and cautiously. I peered at her bottom, watching to see if anything was staying on it. Everything looked good so I proceeded with the plan. I eased the nappy smoothly down her legs, the contents staying safely within. Rascal sang to herself, as she hung there, draped on my arm. I held my breath and gave one final tug on the nappy. 
"That’s when things stopped following the plan."
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That’s when things stopped following the plan. Rascal, in her innocent way, gave a gleeful kick in the middle of her song. The nappy and its contents, which had, thus far, survived the removal process, were suddenly suspended in the air. It happened in slow motion. I managed to keep a hold of the nappy, but I was not so fortunate with the contents. Poo sprayed out of the nappy and down the wall of the change room, also flicking onto my leg.  It was the worst possible outcome!

I screamed silently in horror and stuck my leg under the shower stream. I picked up the nappy and put it in a plastic bag, then began rinsing the wall with the hand held shower head. I rinsed Rascal off, wrapped her up in the towel and began to rinse the floor and myself again. It was extremely disgusting. I dressed Rascal warmly, then dressed myself and left the pool, sincerely hoping that I never have to deal with a pooey swimming nappy ever again! 

Libby :)

 
Little Rascal has always been delicate when it comes to being told off. You don’t even have to say “no” some days and her lip quivers. Other days she will grin at you when you say no. But when you physically remove her from a situation she isn’t meant to be in, the waterworks really start. I can’t decide whether she is hurt that she has done something she wasn’t supposed to do, hurt that she cannot do the thing she wishes to do or embarrassed that she’s in trouble. Whatever the reason, the age of ONE hasn’t stopped this phenomenon.
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Just today, we were at a 1st birthday party. There are many of these to attend at this time of year as all the mums from the mother’s group all have their babies turning one too. She was playing happily with a toy when another mum with a much younger baby, just sitting up, came and put her child right near Rascal. This wasn’t a problem at all and Rascal was excited to have another baby sitting right near her. She started off patting the baby on the head. I said, “That’s right – we are gentle with babies.” She grinned at me in a “I’m such a good girl” way. This continued for a few more seconds. I then noticed that the pats were becoming less pats and more slaps. So I crouched down next to her and repeated my first suggestion of being gentle with babies. She looked at me with innocence again and promptly reached out to gouge the baby’s eye out. 

I reacted with lightning speed and grabbed her arm, just before the gouge made contact, saying “No darling, we don’t do that to others.”  Her reaction to this was emotive. She began to wail – loudly. Of course all the other mums at the birthday party looked over to see what had happened and I reassured them everything was fine. I picked her up when she didn’t immediately get over the situation. She continued to wail. By this stage, the other baby, who’s eye I had valiantly saved from a sure injury, decided that something sad must be happening. She too, then began to wail at a high volume. 

Between the two of them, it was quite a sound. The other mum came and got her baby and I assured her that no injury had occurred, just sympathy or fright, I couldn’t tell which. They continued their duet of tears for about 5 minutes, which, when you are waiting for a child to stop crying, is quite a while! One would back off and then hear the other and the start again and vice versa. They both sounded so sad! When the last tear was shed, both bubs were able to play once again and we all moved on. 

But the fact still remains. Rascal cannot handle being told off! What will she be like in school? If someone tells her to stop talking, will she burst into tears? I must admit, if I think back, I felt like crying when I got in trouble at school, so she probably will too! Oh well, I have a delicate little soul. At least I don’t have a hard, heartless one. I’ll take my delicate soul any day!


Libby :)

 
I recently had the pleasure of becoming an Aunty for the first time. Obviously I’ve been an Aunty for years to my friend’s children, but this was a real, blood-connection Aunty, the child of my brother. And it has brought about some interesting feelings.

This little baby, who we then didn’t know anything about (boy or girl, etc) was due to be born near my Rascal’s birthday. I nervously paced the day before her birthday, and was relieved that the bub wasn’t born on her birthday, as if the date somehow belonged to me and I was the only one allowed to have a child on that date!  

The days ticked on and the bub was several days overdue when born. I had been excited the whole pregnancy because I was happy Rascal was going to have a cousin. But nothing prepared me for the actual arrival. We didn’t see a picture for a few hours but we knew the baby, a little nephew for me, had been born. I was so excited! Then I saw a picture of the little bundle.

"He has to be partly mine! I need a percentage of ownership!"
I nearly burst into tears. He was perfect! And he was so tiny and cute! And I had a very similar feeling to when I first laid eyes on Rascal!  Possession! Ownership! He has to be partly mine! I need a percentage of ownership! Obviously his mother would probably have something to say about me marching over there and taking full possession of him but I truly felt that he was part of me and belonged to me! 

I have recovered from my bout of possession and have decided that he does indeed belong to me in a nephew sort of way. He’ll always be my nephew and no one can take that away! I didn’t realise how special it could be when a sibling has a baby but now I know! And I haven’t even met him yet! 

Libby :)
 
We have just been through a big weekend! We had a little girl turn ONE year old. This was a big thing in our family, as she is the first grandchild on both sides. Both sides of the family were present and had a wonderful time together. My closest friend was able to come last minute with her whole family as well!

Rascal’s birthday was on Thursday last week. So she opened her presents from Mummy and Daddy in the morning, which she loved! I was so happy about that because you never know if something will be a hit or not!  I play the piano and want her to have the opportunity to learn, so I got her a gorgeous toddler piano. She kneels (it’s too scary to stand by yourself) up against it and tinkers away several times a day! Then she started opening presents from Grandma and Grandpa. They gave her a rocking horse, which has become the MOST favourite present. For some reason she wants to be on it ALL the time. As in ALL the time. I’m not talking about once a day. She would literally sit on it for every waking minute. Of course she cannot do that as someone has to hold her on and rock it for her, so she spends many a minute sitting beside the horse patting it and gesturing to be put up on it.  Talk about a HIT! The other Grandma arrived the day after her birthday and bought heaps more presents, which she dutifully opened and played with and also enjoys just as much! 

Amongst all the present opening and visitor arrivals, we made a cake. It was an epic cake and may have been beyond our abilities, but with the help of a friend who is a magician with cakes, we were able to have the fantastic cake we imagined! We also cooked for most of the week to provide for the party lunch. It was a wonderful time of working together for a common goal.

The day before her party, on Saturday, while all the family were there, we also had Rascal dedicated in church. She always behaves quite sensibly and is not a super loud child. As soon as she got up the front of all the people, she started chatting and squealing loudly! She was pulling my hair and dancing. It was quite hilarious! But luckily she didn’t mind being held by the pastor as he said a dedication prayer. She even rested her head on his shoulder! 

Saturday night involved finishing the epic cake. Others helped decorate the hall as we did it. We worked til midnight and had it finished. The decorations were mostly done too and the hall is starting to look awesome!

On Sunday, we arose early and started to make final arrangements. The decorations were mostly done, just a few final purchases and a few more things to stick up. At 12 the guests began to arrive and Rascal welcomed the first few with glee! She then started getting quite over it and looking at newcomers like – why are you here? It was funny as I don’t think she quite understood what they were all doing there! We had lunch, and soon realised that we had made far too much food! But better more than less, that’s for sure! We had the lunch, cake cutting and Happy Birthday singing (where Rascal reached over and touched the flame on the one candle! Luckily she didn’t receive any burns, though Mummy’s heart stopped temporarily!) and present opening. She sat and opened each present until about 4/5 of the way through when she turned around and crawled under the present table for some time out! We were going to have a picture with everyone in their party hats but didn’t get to do it in the end, which was a bit disappointing. But everything else was awesome and I am so glad we decided to do a big party for our little Rascal.

We spent today chilling. I lazily played with Rascal's new toys and read her new books. It was a lovely day to sit around and do not much, which, compared to the last few days, is the complete opposite! I am looking forward to some nice early nights as compared to the 3 or 4 midnight nights last week! It's all worth it, though, and we have come out of it satisfied and fully celebrated!

Libby :)
 
This week is going to be busy. It is the week of Rascal’s FIRST BIRTHDAY!  There is so much to do! I have shopping to do, food to cook, decorations to make, a cake to decorate perfectly, presents to wrap, people to contact for RSVP’s and the list goes on!

When I first started envisioning “The Party,” I had in mind all the people who had gotten to know Rascal in all the different areas of life there with pink and purple decorations, of course. So I sat down to write the most important people down. When I stopped writing, there were 100 people! I was surprised that there had been that many people involved in Rascal’s life!

I culled a few who weren’t too important and thankfully about 40 couldn’t come because 100 couldn’t fit in the venue I had chosen! So we now have approximately 60 guests, including children (and my husband is sure I am organising a wedding reception, not a first birthday party, but he doesn’t know about these things). Lots of family are coming in and our house will probably resemble a refugee camp at some point during the weekend. There will be people strewn around the floor and in every spare corner.

The cooking will be monstrous. I have to cook for about 12 people for every meal apart from breakfast because they will just have to find their own! Luckily the family members are quite good cooks themselves, so it won’t be just me cooking.

But aside from all the preparations, which I may or may not survive, I am reminded what we are all coming together for. My little Rascal is nearly ONE. This time last year I was awaiting her arrival with anxious and excited anticipation! I was almost pacing in my desire to meet her. And now I know her. And what a privilege it is to know her. She is such a beautiful person inside and out.

When I think about what she was this time last year, just an unborn baby who no one knew, and then think about what she is now – a bustling nearly ONE year old who thinks she knows everything and is increasing in skill and talent on a minutely basis, I am amazed. So much has happened! So many milestones have been reached! She has changed so much and is becoming less and less of a baby, more of a toddler.

So this week will be a mix of emotions: pride for sure – I am so proud of her and all she has achieved to survive a year of life; nostalgia – remembering back to when she was more helpless and tiny; happiness – all the family and friends coming together to celebrate; it will be a lovely time.

And I will survive it somehow!

Libby :)

 
I must say I think I have a bit of a complex... well I probably have several, but I am referring to one type of complex in particular. I will call this complex the “Can’t-Stand-Anything-Missing-From-The-Set” Complex. I’m sure some of you would be able to emphathise. I’ve had this complex for years, but today, it seems like all the sets are out to get me...
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I’m packing away the blocks. There are 48 blocks. They all fit perfectly in their box so I know if they are all there or not. I get to the top layer and all is going well. I glance around at the left over blocks. My head tells me something is not right and soon my fears are realised... 

There is a block missing. 

I breathe deeply and assess the playroom. It could be under that toy. I look and it’s not there. Remain calm. I keep looking under toys until I have to assume it is not in this room. I will have to keep looking for it throughout the day. And no matter what else enters my head during the afternoon, I will still remember that I haven’t yet found the block. 

"I breathe deeply and assess the playroom. It could be under that toy. I look and it's not there. Remain calm."
There are also other similar issues occurring today. I have a set of 30 connector pen textas. Rascal likes to pull them apart and I was letting her do that earlier this morning. Just now, I put them all back together. There are only 29 and I have looked everywhere for the other but to no avail!
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And so goes the story of my putting-away time. 16 parts to the toy train. Check. 6 books in the Nursery Rhyme set, 4 pairs of animals in the Noah’s ark set + Noah himself of course. Check. 4 cups, large and small plates, knives, forks, spoons, cups and mugs in the toy dish set. Oh no, there are still some missing! There is 1 fork, 2 large plates and a cup missing.  I will have to address this sometime soon...

The only solution to this problem is to buy nothing in sets. I need to just buy one of everything. But this will never happen, so I will have to resign myself to always being worried when there is one thing missing!


Libby :)

 
What are your qualifications? Do you have the prerequisites for the job? As mothers, there are many roles we now fulfill and this will be added to as our children increase in age and number! Let's explore some of the roles that are required for babies, toddlers and young children below: 

Food Fabricator: We are in charge of either producing or creating food. Whether it be making breastmilk, shaking up a bottle of formula, chopping up finger food, blitzing pumpkin into a perfect puree or using all your upper body strength to mash a potato, we are the ones who are responsible for it. And that never ends, no matter how far into their twenties they get (though hopefully they can mash their own food by then!)

Comfort Creator: We are also responsible for making sure our children are positioned in a level of comfort that would rival any royal ruler. They have to be just the right temperature, have the right amount of padding underneath them, have just the right amount of breeze blowing on them, just the right number of stuffed toys within reach. Their tummy has to be at just the right fullness level with their body at ideal hydration. Everything has to be just right and we are supposed to be experts in this area.
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Excellent Entertainer: We are required to have a wide repertoire of extremely exciting acts. These acts need to utilise normal, everyday items and be available at the drop of a hat. The repertoire also needs to evolve and change to adjust to the child’s interests, age and boredom level. With this prerequisite, mums are also required to throw any hint of self-respect, dignity (although that’s long since gone) and stage fright out the window. You will be performing in public for the rest of your life, so get over it and embrace it!

Desperate Distracter: We need to have the ability to find a safe, exciting and new distraction that is more interesting than the unsafe, destructive and annoying thing that the child wishes to do. This is one of the most difficult prerequisites because it requires the mum to think on her feet 24/7, full night’s sleep or not! The added difficulty in this prerequisite is that when we have had limited sleep, the child seems to be even more likely to go for the activities that are dangerous or destructive! So these occasions are when we are required to be at our quickest and sharpest. A challenge indeed! 

Waste Wiper: One of the most repetitive prerequisites is the art of removing stinky, smeared poo from the bottoms of our children. This would be fine if all children laid perfectly still as we performed this service, but most toddlers do not appreciate the act of removing waste from their bottoms. Mums need to have advanced agility and dexterity to master this skill whilst also ensuring that the surrounding walls, carpet, tiles, parents and other parts of the child remain (relatively) poo free. 

"Mums need to have advanced agility and dexterity to master this skill whilst also ensuring that the surrounding walls, carpet, tiles, parents and other parts of the child remain (relatively) poo free."
Continuous Cleaner: Mums are required to provide clean places for children to make dirty again. If crumbs, mashed banana or partially digested bread land on the floor, it is the mother’s job to remove it at the end of the meal, so that during the next meal, there is space for the child to put more rejected food. If the toys are all spread around the playroom, it is the mother’s job to pack them up at the end of the day so that, within 2.4 minutes of the child starting to play the next morning, they can be all back where they started! This concept applies to basically all parts of cleaning. 


Clothing Connoisseur: In the job description of a mother, this one becomes one of the most life-controlling elements. We must be continually focused on each and every member of the family having respectable, appropriate and clean clothing, of the approximate right size, to wear. We must be an expert in the domestic art of placing clothes in the washing machine, carrying the basket to the preferred hanging location, hanging them out, waiting an appropriate time to allow sufficient drying, taking them off the preferred hanging line, carrying them back inside, folding them into piles and putting them away. Some lucky clothes may be ironed, but most can be folded in such a way that this is not required. For some of us, all of this must be done whilst one or more “helpers” are present, ensuring that the task takes up far more of your precious time than it ever should!

There are many more prerequisites that we are required to have when facing up to the job of being mother, but remember that in all these tasks, we are providing an upbringing for our children that will help shape the people they are one day. After all, we chose this for ourselves! Let’s laugh about it and embrace the job with the most prerequisites! 

Libby :)