Adele Lydia Mudie born on the 27th of June. Weighing 4.3…ouch….kilograms. Or for the oldies, 9lb  7oz.

Now when you have a baby you do get asked the same questions. So here we go.

Question: How was the labour?  My answer to other mothers: The most horrific experience in my life….I am never ever doing that again……I thought I was going to die!……..  Who the heck convinced me that labour was easier than the recovery from a c-section????? Cause I could inflict some pain on them that will make  them wish they were in labour.

My answer to prospective mothers: Oh yeah, we survived…you’ll be fine!

Question: Is she feeding well?  Answer: Have you seen the size of her? I think she’s been eyeing Isaac off as a tasty morsel.

Question: Is she sleeping well? Answer: Yes. Just waking once in the night for a feed (insert smug tone)

Question: How is Isaac reacting to her? Answer: He knows she is a part of our family now and has been good with her. However, I’ll get back to you when Stephen returns to work and I’m juggling the needs and wants of two tackers.

Question: Why do you still look 6 months pregnant?  (Yeah I know you’re thinking it!)

Question: Where are the photos????  Answer: Here!   Adele at 6 days old.

Adele, we love you very much and are blessed  beyond measure to have you in our lives. I promise to try and refrain from calling you Chunky Monkey in front of your friends.  Love Mummy.

I feel like I have so much to do at the moment. When you really look at it…I don’t. I just think I do, because I have a baby arriving in 3 months and I’ve started developing this overwhelming sense of urgency to finish stuff. Last time I cleaned and cleaned. I made Stephen paint the whole house. Which I kinda feel bad about, because we moved house anyway when Isaac was 9 months old. Worst still, we rented it out and the walls got trashed by the tenants. This time is a little different. Yes I see dirt people..I mean dirt everywhere and I will be cleaning, But my nesting consists of finishing those unfinished craft projects. I’ve finished Isaac’s quilt for his second birthday, but I’m behind 7 months in his scrapbook albums. I desperately want to get up to date before baby arrives. If I am not ready to go with baby’s albums, they might not get done and the poor second child syndrome will strike again. So amongst all this overwhelming desire to finish projects…what did I do? Yeahhh I started a new one.

FABRIC CORK BOARD

I scored a secondhand corkboard from Church, hard rubbish style. It was still in good condition, but I wanted to jazz it up a little.

So I made a trip down to Spotty and got some supplies.

I did 3 coats of paint along the frame.

Then I cut a piece of trendy fabric (cotton patchwork) to fit inside the frame of the board. I used my quilting mat, ruler and cutter for this. It didn’t matter if it didn’t quite reach the edge, but close is good.

Next, I used masking tape to tape around the frame of the corkboard and then used fabric spray adhesive to spray the cork and carefully positioned the fabric down on top, making sure to get rid of any bubbles…just like contacting books! I then got the tool that women use when they want their husbands to see how ”handy” they are. A staple gun! I proceeded to unleash my inner handyman, by stapling the fabric down close to the edge.

The gluey masking tape is then removed. Next step is to glue ribbon around the edge of the corkboard to tidy up the gap between frame and fabric and hide those masculine staples.

I used a craft glue that can knock you out with the smell at 20 paces. It can also take the finish off your furniture…whoops. Good thing Stephen won’t notice amongst all the other crafting inflicted injuries our dining table has suffered. So I suggest a paint brush is a good way of applying the glue.

Then finally the board is hung, pride of place above my computer so I can cover up the pretty fabric with notes reminding me of the things I still need to do!

I have learnt a few tricks and tips from my first pregnancy with Isaac, to assist me this time round.  And here on my humble blog I am prepared to share them with you.

At around 12 weeks, or maybe even earlier depending on circumstances, you will have an ultrasound to see how peanut is going. Now, you need to have a full bladder so the ultrasound duvey wacky rays things can see peanut clearly. So when you ring the reception and book the ultrasound the receptionist will tell you to drink a litre of water in the hour before the scan. And you listen to her and obey, because she is the expert. Right?  WRONG!

What you don’t know is that the receptionist actually gets a kick out of watching you in the waiting room. She is waiting for you to start squirming in your seat, then stand up and do a little dance and finally be bent over doubled in excruciating bladder busting pain. Then she will look up and casually say ‘ you can go to the toilet and let a little out if you like.’ Knowing full well that once those floodwaters open there is no stopping the torrent.  Which leaves you in a less than ideal situation as an empty bladder requires the sonographer to use more intrusive methods of getting an ultrasound of peanut.

What you also don’t know is that while you are in the toilet and receptionist wanders across to the other side of the office, opens a cupboard and examines a tally sheet. She marks you off as her 154^th victim for the year. She then glances across at her co-worker Mavis’s tally sheet. She realises for the first time this year she is in the lead and does a silent fist pump in the air.

However, all is not lost.  You are not to be doomed to this fate. All you need to do is drink one less glass of water. Trust me, 750 ml is more than enough water for them to see peanut and you can gracefully glide into that ultrasound room and just as gracefully glide out again. Just ensure you flash a knowing smile at the receptionist as you leave.

My apologies for not blogging in quite some time. Maybe I should rename this blog “Every Month Matters.’  However, I am back now and my small announcement is…I am 21 weeks pregnant.  The announcement is only ‘small’ because according to babycentre.com our baby is 360 grams and 27cm from crown to heel. That’s still pretty small. It is a pity that my belly doesn’t reflect the ’smallness’ of this child. It’s already been prestretched. Infact, I am sure baby is swimming backstroke in a womb the size of an olympic swimming pool.  I would compare myself to about 26 weeks with Isaac.

Ok this is me at 16 weeks.  Yikes, has it been 5 weeks since I took a pregnancy progress photo? In years to come, this poor child is going to compare the number of photos they have,  to that of their big brother’s and be convinced they were adopted. Then I will have to pat them on the head the reassuringly tell them “nooo….it’s just that you are the second child.”

Today, I decided to step forward in my quest to be a more girly- girl. See my humble beginnings in the previous post. Anyway, I have a friend who does my leg waxing. In honour of Harry Potter’s release this week we shall call her She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, in order to protect her identity. I decided that for the first time ever I would have my eyebrows waxed. Nothing severe, just tidy up you know. I hear it opens those eyes right up! Well we had a little incident. It seems it doesn’t take much stray wax to take out a chunk of eyebrow.

Opps

Actually, I wish I had a camera to capture the horrified expression on She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named face. Although her identity would have been compromised….hmmm naa it would have been worth posting it. Poor thing was mortified. She rushed out and bought me an eye liner pencil thingy to draw my eyebrow back on.

But I do have a couple more tricks up my sleeve

The Hair Hide

The Hat Hide

Or I could go out and buy me a pair of these!

I have a confession. I’ve had the same ‘money holding receptacle’ for the last 16 years. I must call it a ‘receptacle’ because I can not bare to utter what it is. Hangs head in shame…..

Ok..big breaths….it’s a wallet…a teeny bopper wallet. On the otherside are the words ‘Sheriff of Nothin.’  Pretty cool indeed. I bought it when I was 15. I wasn’t into lugging handbags around. Who needs to cart luggage with them everywhere they go? I wanted something small to stick in my pocket. I wanted to be FREE!  Shoulders, arms and hands free. Remember this was in the days when 40 cents was all you needed to call home.

And somehow my teeny bopper wallet has been with me throughout my late teens, twenties and encroached into the thirties. Even though I am a little bit more girly now and do posess one handbag.

However, all this must come to an end and I finally purchased a purse. A girly purse from Olga Burg  It’s red so I can find it in my luggage, I mean handbag. How practical.

I splurged and also bought a handbag. You might think this is another step towards girlyness, but I’m sorry to disappoint you. This is to replace my old handbag, not adding to it. I still only have one handbag.

My poor old handbag. It’s a bit worst for wear.  Also an olga.  I’ve always loved the flowers and the shape.

But before I throw Mambo teeny bopper wallet out and enbrace a new girlier me. I must do something.  Cut it open and scavenge the money that has worked its way into the fabric through the holes inside. 

What! only $6.25. Where are the notes? Surely my wallet is old and tattered enough to have holes large enough to swallow the odd note. Bah there goes my saving plan.

When well meaning, but obviously colour blind elderly folk ask if Isaac is a boy or a girl, I take it as a sign. It’s hair cut time. The curls need to go.  At this point of realisation, I brace myself.

For this…

The Wiggles Cape goes on.

But Isaac is not reassured by said Wiggles Cape. He looks concerned, unsure, pensive…..

And then foolishly Sam the hairdresser squirts water on Isaac’s hand for fun. Or maybe it was because she kept calling him Oliver? hmm…

And from then on, the other customers who should be enjoying a relaxing  head massage with their shampoo have to listen to the wailing and gnashing of teeth.

And even snacks and sitting on Daddy’s knee will not do.

Maybe this time we can have a buzz cut. That should take a while to grow back to a length which causes gender confusion.

OK, I know only a few posts back I said ‘bring on more wonderful weather.’  There is an exception to this sentiment however. I love wet Fridays. You see Friday is playgroup day and as soon as we arrive, the back doors are flung open and the kiddlets run amok outside. Which sounds lovely, but it’s not. Isaac’s idea of running amok involves eating tanbark and heading for that puddle right up in the far corner of the yard.  So I spend playgroup chasing him around the yard. It has come as quite a shock to realise I’d be forced to supervise, interact with and even play with my son at playgroup.  When the doors are shut, I get to sit down, put my feet up, have a chat to the other mothers and occasionally glance across at Isaac to see him pushing a pram and playing with the dolls house. Shhh…don’t tell his father.

Here he is. Wishful thinking kid!

Please pass the lazy mother award this way, and while you’re up can you bring me one of those Tim Tams.

My mum emailed last night with a tit-bit of information. Apparently the carpark sale is on at Robert Gordon Pottery in Pakenham.  ’I can probably go Sunday or Monday’  she wrote.

Phfft! Mum, you expect me to wait another 3 days! No way. I went down this morning, I had shopping to do.  Seriously cheap peoples. This is my loot.

How much for this? $42.20.

A few of these items are for my photography. I want to do teaparty photoshoots with little girls. Outdoors, in a field, under a tree. Those triangles are bunting which I want to hang from the tree. Of course, I need some cute cup cakes to go on that stand and the tea pot is a must have. Speaking of must haves….I must have a children’s table setting. Not just any old table and chairs, something with elegance and oozes girly tea partyness.  Can I find said table and chairs? No!  I’m still looking, so if you happen to spot something in your travels, I beg you to let me know. Call me,  messenger pigeon me, smoke signal me…anything.  Here’s an idea of what I’m looking for.

Oh and Mum, Coffee? Robert Gordon? Sunday?