Grub had her two-month-old immunisations today. Yes, she is nearly eight months old. We always intended to put them off a little bit but we are so slack that a delay of a month or two turned into a delay of over five months.

I was actually quite pleased with how it went. Instead of the standard 45 minute wait to see the doctor they were actually running ON TIME.  I was expecting a tiresome lecture about our failure to immunise her so far but the doctor was very pleasant and even made a comment about the incredible number of things that are on the imunisation schedule now. Seriously, they just keep adding and adding. There are so many more than when my older two were little and Grub even gets a few that Pudding didn’t get and he’s only 3.

Poor little Grub had to have an injection in each thigh. The doctor was  really quite nice and even called another doctor to come and jab her at the exact same time so as not to prolong her distress. Still there was that moment, that slightly delayed reaction, a look of surprise and then “ohmyfuckinggodyoubastards, YOU HURT ME, ON PURPOSE!!!!” scream that just rips your heart out. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. She recovered quite quickly at the time but now she’s a sooky, crying mess and just needs to be held and boobed for the rest of the day.

Despite her sore thigh rolls, she still managed a major developmental milestone today, sitting herself up for the first time. She has been able to maintain her balance in a sitting position for several weeks but this was he first time she really sat herself up. I was so loud in my enthusiasm for her new move that I scared her and she fell over. Of course, all of the effort required meant she immediately needed a boob and a nap but at least that’s given me some precious time with my laptop.

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It is 43 degrees here today. The being inside and the heat has driven Pudding insane. He spent all day shrieking maniacally and throwing pointy things, before finally passing out next to me on the couch. We try to duck to the park in the cool of the morning but we didn’t today and it has caused his fragile little  mind to break. It is very boring but there is little I can do to make it more exciting for him especially as Grub refuses to be put down. At all. Ever.

We did play a great game this afternoon which involved him being  a baby, who required frequent nappy changes. In the end I was worried that although the nappy changes were pretend, he may develop some sort of emotional scarring, which will create bizarre fetishism in his adult-life. I am nothing if not paranoid. In the end he decided that teddy was the baby and proceeded to breastfeed him. Can you tell what he sees the adults around him doing most? He needs to get out more.

In light of Pudding’s boredom, we have organised a new playgroup for him. He does swimming once a week and usually has a couple of playdates a week but we’ve decided he needs some more outside of the house time. It is all very exciting as it takes place at a local school, where they’re all about the alternative education methods. I nearly sent Rhubarb there years ago, but as I was a newly single Mum (the ex charmingly moved interstate after we split, so as to avoid any parenting duties) and I was across the other side of town and just beginning my degree it didn’t seem practical. Beefcake and I are hoping that Pudding will enjoy it and that we will be able to send him to school there next year. He is a very ‘free-spirited’ child and I worry about what the soul-crushing state education system might do to him*. I don’t know, it may not work out but I’m sure Pudding will enjoy the extra activity anyway.

*That sounds bad, the other children are fine and hardly damaged at all but it’s so potluck and maybe this would suit him  better.

I slept last night.

I was in bed by 10.30pm, I went to sleep and I slept the majority of the night. This may not seem a big deal to all of you but it is, I assure you.

Most nights I wait until somewhere between 1.30 and 3am, until I can no longer stand pretty much, and then I am almost guaranteed to be able to sleep and have few wakeful periods during the night, mostly. If I go to bed early it is pointless as I will only lie in bed awake until 2am (or 5). I walk around like a zombie and it’s lovely to walk into a room and have people comment on how tired you look, lovely. Last night I woke once for about 45 minutes, plus the five times Grub woke for a feed (I know, oh my gawd) and I slept until almost 7am.

What is rather odd is that I am almost always able to fall asleep during the day. I’ve always been a night time person, as is Beefcake, so we are not a good combination in terms of getting our rest. He was up until 2am and is now having a sleep-in. He has no insomnia issues (the man has been known to  fall asleep standing up, whilst pouring a drink) but just likes staying up late.

So, I’m making a commitment to myself to try and go to bed early, in the belief that I will be able to sleep, at least three nights a week. This is a big step for me and I am hoping it will continue. I  am never going to be an early to bed girl all the time, I love my child-free nights but I believe, that if I think I can, I will be able to sleep. I think I can, I think I can.

Yesterday was also a landmark day, I was able to practice hair-removal on my legs, underarms and nether regions, all of which were suffering from some serious neglect due to the fact that Grub is going through a phase where she screams if I leave the room. Even when she’s asleep.   I am lucky to be allowed to use the toilet at the moment.

AND

I was out shopping and Grub was asleep in the sling so I ducked into the budget hairdresser in the shopping centre next to target (yes, I am glamourous) and had her quickly trim my hair. You see, my hair has been growing out since I was about 7 months pregnant. Growing out of a VERY short asymmetrical haircut that my then hairdresser felt was very me and just had to be done. She had been my hairdresser for about 4 years. I haven’t been back. SO, yesterday I had it trimmed to an evenish shape so that it doesn’t look as though Pudding has come at me with his safety scissors.

I am very pleased. None of the children even noticed (except Pudding, who was there).

Okay, off to clean up some hand soap which has apparently ‘vomited’ all over the bathroom cupboard. Thanks Pudding.

I’ve mentioned before that Pudding has a love of all things crazy and that he believes he can fly. This is lovely and awfully entertaining for the whole family. His antics never fail to impress a crowd.

Recently, in addition to the power of flight, he has discovered a new super-power, which surpasses all others. He has power. In his eyes. None of us understand what this means but a curse on all of your people if you should dare to doubt him. He has power in his eyes and he will demonstrate with a stiff-necked rapid blinking display that has us all bewildered.

All cower and shake at Pudding and his eye power.

If he flies at you and uses his eyes on you at the same time, you’re probably in a lot of trouble.

I  do not do socialising with other mothers.  If I walk the children to or from school, I don’t usually go in. I prefer not to walk them to and from school at all, which was lovely last year as Rhubarb was old enough to accompany Poss on his own. I hardly ever had to brave the scary cliquey school mothers. Not only are the school mothers scary but they are about as interesting as dry weetbix.

I do not fit in, I don’t care to try. I’ve always said that I do not wish to form friendships with people on the basis that we both have children and I hold to this.  I am not involved in the school generally, I am involved in my childrens’ schooling, I know what’s going on and will attend the mind-numbing assemblies and performances as need be, but I just am not that Mum. I think it’s my automatic need to be different from my own mother, who belonged to every committee the school could throw at her, and was false and shallow and boring.

I have hoped, over the years, that this doesn’t impact upon the children too much. They make friends and see their friends and I am chatty and have even been known to invite parents in for a cup of tea when required.

This year, Beefcake has assured me that Poss is old enough to walk to and from school alone. I was very reluctant, you will remember that this is the girl who last year collected urine soaked knitted toys on her journey home, and she was accompanied then! Although I may have let Rhubarb at the same age, she just doesn’t seem ready. He convinced me that she will be very annoyed if I try to baby her and insist on walking with her to and from school, I have been letting her. It is a very short walk and she has been very excited each morning.

This evening she asked if it would be possible for her to organise playdates over the phone from school in the afternoon. Cue me feeling like a complete and utter failure as a mother. Poss watches all of her friends arranging playdates with their mothers, who are there to collect them, directly after school. Oooh and guess what she said, go on, guess? “Maybe you could make some friends with the other mothers”. Okay. Devastated.

So say hello to the new me. You’ll find me hanging around the schoolyard cheerfully being bored into a semi-comatose state by all of the kiddy small talk. Ah, we do what we must, I suppose.

HomeOfficeMum has tagged me for another photo meme thingy.

I was  going to cheat quite a bit and use one from the file on my computer. My computer is quite new and therefore there are only very recent pics on there. It turns out that the fourth photo from the fourth file on my laptop was photo of Pudding, which I had already used in a blog post a wee while back. SO, I went to the backup hard drive and applied the whole 4th, 4th, 4th rule and this is what we came up with.

It’s Rhubarb, Poss and myself wandering some old Roman ruins. It was taken at Chester’s Roman fort in England. It’s on Hadrians wall. It was bloody freezing and we all wanted to cry. My boots sprung holes and I got wet feet. It was cool but god I was glad to get back in the warm car.

Just below it, I noticed this though:

This was just after a landmark moment for Pudding. He spied these in the gift shop. Minature wooden short swords. We had our backs to him and he picked one up and began charging and attacking things in the shop. None of us had ever seen him wield a blade before. We don’t really know where he picked up the skill. Of course, we had to buy one for him. I think we were in shock. This is him attacking us in the carpark as we made to leave. It was pissing down with rain, Pudding didn’t care. This marks the day he began really getting into violence of all kinds. Everyone say ‘awwww’.

I’m not tagging anyone, but I always love what these things turn up in peoples’ archives so if you do it, let me know.