My One Year Old

Lately I've found myself overcome with absolute affection for my little girl. I'm entirely convinced that one is the loveliest age ever.

First of all there's the pointing at everything, accompanied by a little "Ohh" that makes her sound like a gossipy old woman. Then there's the constant cuddles - most frequently given to her stuffed toys but sometimes administered to the lounge, picture frames, strangers and occasionally even me.

There are kisses given to anyone and anything, including a photo of my brother with the governor and the newsreader on the Today show. There's also the language that is developing each day- most recently we've heard "up", "look" and "Klopp" (the title of one of her German books), while she still barks madly whenever she hears a dog.

Mostly, I love that she and I are communicating, whether it be through words, gestures, cuddles, sounds or the odd slap across the face (thanks Heiks!). We don't have long conversations but we do understand one another and, I think, enjoy each other's company.

One is definitely easier than newborn and from what I've heard far less frustrating than two. I'm working on appreciating the moment and I appreciate this one - spending each day with a sweet, energetic, crazy one year old girl.

Sleep Transitions

My newly one year old (birthday post to come) has well and truly begun the transition from two sleeps to one. What a pain! After months of a set routine and an organized life, things have been thrown into chaos again. SIGH!

As you all know I'm a prolific googler and researcher. So from the moment Heike started taking a longer morning sleep and carrying on about her afternoon sleep, I was online looking for answers.

As it turns out (and always does when it comes to babies) there is no one answer for dealing with this "in between" time when bubs don't quite need two sleeps but aren't quite ready for one. The main strategies to try  are:

1) Wake them up from their morning nap so they'll be tired enough to take another in the afternoon: Adherents to this strategy recommend waking bub up after 30-40 minutes in the morning and giving them another sleep at around 1pm. The morning sleep will eventually be dropped and the other brought forward.

2) Force one sleep: Keep baby awake until around 11am (despite the fact they will be ridiculously tired) and put them to bed for minimum 2-2.5 hours - this approach can involve quite a bit of resettling before bub really gets what they're meant to be doing.

3) Go with the flow: Let bub have the sleep they need in the morning and, if needed, take them for a long walk or drive in the afternoon so they get another short nap in. Gradually the morning sleep will be pushed back, maybe a half hour each week, until bub only needs the one sleep a day.

Despite advocating going with the flow repeatedly, you may have noticed I'm not that great at it. I like control - order! Thus I have tried the first two methods and can tell you, for us, they've been a complete failure. Personally I found Heike just wasn't getting enough sleep, taking one 30 minute nap and another just over an hour or just taking one 1.5hr nap and then screaming in her cot for an hour. Not fun.

I decided on Saturday to just go with the flow and let Heike do what she wants to do. It's only been three days but so far, so good. Each day she's slept a minimum of two hours in the morning (today she had 2.5) and taken a short nap in the pram in the afternoon. This also works out well for me as it forces me to get outside and take a long walk each day, which should hopefully negate my current penchant for eating, um, everything (that's another post right there).

Transitions suck! Here's to having a good one nap a day baby before I know it.

Z xx

EUROTRIP

Well well well. It appears I have been M.I.A for, let's see, FOREVER. I SUCK. There may be more talented, conscientious people than I (there are) who can travel the globe with an eleven month old and various stuffed bunnies in tow and still manage to update their blog. I, however, am a flawed being and my blog posts seem to fly out the window whenever there is even a moderately significant distraction in my life. A four week holiday led me to forget I even have a blog and instead frequently stress about foreign foods and jet lag and appropriate airplane behaviour and other things you SHOULDN'T be worried about on a holiday but of course DO when you simply must stress about SOMETHING.

SO! Welcome back, me. The past four weeks have seen my little family and I (and extended family on both sides) travel from Sydney to Hong Kong, on to Germany via Finland, take a quick Paris weekender and end up in country France for a few days. Then it was back to Sydney via Finland with a two day stopover in Bangkok. Does your head hurt yet? It should when I remind you there was an 11 month old on board. Yup. Head's hurting.

When I set out to write this post I intended to heap upon you wise words regarding traveling with a baby. But then I thought about it and realised that my own approach to traveling with a baby consisted of constantly stressing about how many clean bottles I have and breathing sighs of relief that I have such an easygoing, adaptable child.

Summer in Europe? Get naked.

I have a feeling that if my daughter were not so laid back (a trait clearly not inherited from yours truly) we could have had an entirely different trip on our hands. As it was she reacted with complete class to every hiccup and setback (again, unlike yours truly) and quickly adjusted time zones four times. She was the darling of her Aunties, the cherished plaything of her cousins and the apple of her grandparents' eyes.

What should be mentioned, however, is the ridiculous amount of ridiculous things that took place on this holiday. I'm sure I've told you all that I attract drama. I'm not drawn to it, oh no - it's drawn to me. I can see it coming and literally turn and run away but it always, ALWAYS finds me.

Let's see, first there was the Typhoon 10 (the highest level, yep) that kept us stranded in Hong Kong Airport for 21 hours. Then there was the unplanned night spent in Finland. There was the flight to Paris we missed (don't even ASK how much we paid for a new one...) and the other flight that cost us an extra $130 for a name change (Justus I'm looking at you mate).

There were the specs Justus lost (that one's on me) and then came the brand new sunglasses - gone. Heike's favourite cuddly bunny was also a casualty. Family arguments? Oh, there were heaps! Tantrums (thrown by adults)? You betcha! My parents even got scammed in Bangkok on their way home. Let's place that cherry on the cake, shall we?

Interestingly, almost all the drama of our holiday had absolutely nothing to do with our tiny tot, but rather came down to bad luck or mismanagement. Considering what a "lucky" person I am and how "great" my husband is at planning, I'd say we had it coming.

Nonetheless, a great time was had by all, particularly Madame H who would have loved to bid us adieu and spend a few more weeks I'm sure. The weather was warm, the bread amazing and the beer cheap. All in all - I'd do it again in a flash.

Swimming naked, German style

Z xx

The Great Outdoors

Sometimes, you just gotta get outside. Recently the weather here has been less than ideal - 15 degrees and rain, anyone? So we have been cooped up inside a liiiiittle too much and frankly, it's sending me mad. Last week I took Heike to the shopping centre to "play". Admittedly it was one of those with an indoor kids play area but REALLY?!?! I'm losing respect for myself.

A few weeks back we purchased a Tatonka hiking backpack on Gumtree for $70. Barely used and in perfect condition, it was a bargain I couldn't wait to use. My other half was less convinced and the last few weekends have seen me trying to invent reasons to go places with the backpack - difficult in the previously mentioned weather conditions.

This past weekend we scored members tickets to the Swans game - the perfect location for baby backpack wearing! Justus was dubious but as soon as he put the backpack on and heard Heike's squeals of delight, the shift from sceptic to convert was evident in his face. The comfort, the convenience, the novelty! It quickly became his new favourite baby item.

Thus when we woke on Sunday morning to SUNSHINE and the internet told us my soccer game was CANCELLED anyway, we decided we would GET OUTSIDE and use the magical BACKPACK. We drove to Camp Cove, otherwise known as the most beautiful place in Sydney, and set out for a walk around south head and then back to Watsons Bay for lunch.

It sounds trite but the warm sun on our faces did wonders for our mood, as did walking past a nudist beach full of sixty year old sun worshippers naked in the middle of winter. Perhaps weeks of grey have altered my perceptions but I swear I have never seen the water such a perfect shade of aqua, never seen it glitter quite so prettily under the sun's rays.

Heike was an angel baby for the day (as always but she loved the backpack) and Justus my Leo Lion was at his sunshiney best. Even I didn't complain about walking a little further than planned or waiting 30 minutes for lunch. It was a timely reminder of the importance of fresh air and sun to well being and the truly healing powers of nature.

Cherubs

Z xx

Life's Daggy Essentials

I'll start this off by saying that "Mum" doesn't need to be synonymous with "daggy", as most of you know because the baby booming Hollywood industry has seen the emergence of some truly stylish and "yummy" mummies. But on a practical level, looking fabulous with children in tow just doesn't work. Nice shoes aren't condusive to running after the world's fastest crawler and short-skirts-on-windy-days-while-pushing-a-pram-and-picking-up-a-dummy are great if you want everyone to see your faded black undies.

Quite a number of stylish wardrobe items have been put into storage this year. Short skirts were the first to go after the aforementioned undie-flashing incident. It should be mentioned that my cellulite is *probably* a little more severe than it was two summers ago, which may have also influenced my decision to wear jeans year-round. My vintage fur coat - where would I wear it? Bright patterned blouses would look fairly ridiculous at the local park and any material that isn't denim or interlock is likely to be destroyed by vomit and dirty little fingers.

That said, giving birth isn't a free pass to veg out in your trackies every day (she tells herself in the mirror each morning). It just requires a little jigging of style - you know, a wider range of converse trainers to choose from, an even greater number of jeans and a selection of shirts and jumpers that cover the delightful plumbers crack subtly revealed each time you pick up a screaming infant.

Still, I have enjoyed finally being able to embrace my inner dag. And when I say "inner" dag I really just mean my outer, real self dag I tried in vain to disguise in a former life. Finally, I'm out and proud. Daggy things I have welcomed with open arms include wearing joggers everywhere (and by joggers, I mean real Nike runners - everywhere), Birkenstocks (us daggy people think they're cool but come on guys, they're daggy), backpacks (so practical!), and caps. You know like baseball caps that say "Port Douglas - Paradise"? Yep, those.

But my all time FAVOURITE daggy item is my rain coat. While many of you may feel that rain coat is more in the "practical" and less in the "daggy" column, I have always firmly believed that Mountain Designs waterproof windbreakers are the epitome of dagginess, despite having always been desperate to purchase and wear one.

As soon as I found out I was pregnant I knew the waterproof windbreaker was finally within my reach. As a mum, I would have a legitimate reason/excuse for wearing one. Finally, late last year, I purchased my very first one and boy, do I love it! It's everything I dreamed and more. Lightweight and comfortable, I can throw it on over anything and immediately be protected from wind AND rain. Gone is the cumbersome umbrella of old, replaced instead by an item that sees fashionable women of a similar age ignore me in the street.

My rain coat has been getting a good workout lately with all this rain we've been having, so I can vouch for its effectiveness. As for its style factor, well, I'll let you judge for yourself. Still, isn't it nice to embrace practicality?

Loving the rain these days

 Z xx

Mother of the Year, Yeah!

After a series of, uh, let's call them "incidents" involving Heike's head versus various pieces of household furniture this week, I've been forced to take a long hard look at my parenting style. I must say it does, upon examination, appear unconventional. I like to think of myself as "laid back" and "free thinking" but others might view me as lazy, careless and flighty (I would call these people "uptight"). 

In light of this I compiled a list of the top five reasons why I will never win a Mother of the Year Award, assuming such things existed and were doled out by parenting Nazis.

They are, as follows:

1) I constantly see risks and yet fail to act upon my observations - I have been known to look at Heike pulling herself onto an object, particularly those with slam-able draws or potentially fatal sharp corners and say aloud "Ooh, that looks dangerous," approximately one second before disaster ensures (fingers are slammed, head is bumped, tears are cried). I'm not entirely sure but I feel like other mothers use the word "No!" and pull their child away. Not I! Live dangerously is my credo (it's not).

2) I have been known to let my daughter eat off the floor - Yesterday I saw Heike eating a strawberry and said happily "Hey, I haven't given you strawberries today! That's resourceful." I then walked back into the kitchen. 'Nuff said.

3) I let my daughter play with my keys, phone and wallet - I'm not sure why but these objects have been deemed "off limits" by responsible parents everywhere. Neglectful parents like myself allow their children to play to their hearts content with such contraband, resulting in destroyed iPhones (vomit kills smart phones, FYI) and awkward moments in cafes where they realise their ATM card is still in their child's cot.

4) I can not make Glad Wrap stick - I always thought that when you gave birth, your body released hormones that enabled you to Glad Wrap lunches and leftovers in taut, neat fashion. Not so. In fact, I think my Glad Wrapping is worse than ever because I'm just too tired and busy to give a shit. Instead I use containers, which go missing for weeks and are then found mould encrusted on the floor of my car.

5) I am generally vague and forgetful - You all know my track record with car keys. I'm getting better but still haven't managed to live down my infamy. I have, in my mothering prowess, burnt boiling potatoes (previously thought impossible). I have also burnt stewing pear (does happen not frequently). I was incredibly proud that I managed to send off Heike's school application but, incidentally, I had enrolled her in the wrong year. I drove 10 minutes to pick up some formula and other groceries, parked and then realised I had left my wallet at home. You get the gist. I don't know about anyone else but when I was a kid, mothers simply did NOT do things like this. Or did they just hide it well?

Despite my shortcomings and the concrete knowledge my parenting won't win me any accolades, I DO have a happy, healthy daughter who gets TONS of cuddles, OODLES of kisses and has lots of laughs with her, ahem, kooky mother.

Z xx

Hand Foot and Mouth "Disease"

When an illness has "disease" in its title and it sounds suspiciously like the Foot and Mouth disease that kills cows, a Mum is going to worry when her child gets that diagnosis. Luckily a girlfriend's bub had just been struck down with the Medieval sounding affliction that is "Hand Foot and Mouth Disease" so I wasn't quite as freaked out as I could have been.

In fact, it turns out that Hand Foot and Mouth is quite common amongst little people, what with their propensity for grabbing things with their hands and shoving them in their mouths and, well, they have feet so those get involved too.

According to my vast google research, Hand Foot and Mouth is a virus that causes the usual flu symptoms along with blisters that appear in and around the mouth as well as the hands and feet. Most children who contract it have a few spots, while some, like mine, look like they have contracted the bubonic plague.

We're still not sure what we were dealing with when it came to poor Miss Heike's illness, but sadly she was covered head to toe in large, sore blisters. Her ears, her nappy area, her fingers and toes - nowhere escaped unharmed. The blisters were so extensive that in places they were basically on top of one another, and as they dried up whole pieces of skin the size of twenty cent pieces were falling off. BLERGGGH!!

It is possible that she had the chicken pox as well as HFM which caused her case to be so serious, while it is also possible that she just had a really, really bad dose of Hand Foot and Mouth, which is what her GP seemed to think (after we had gotten a chicken pox diagnosis at casualty days earlier). Either way, I feel so sorry for the poor poppet!

No one tells you how hard it is when your child gets sick. You feel like crying on their behalf. You also feel like crying because they are crying so much and you don't know how to fix it. Also if they have an infectious disease you can't leave the house, so then you do cry because you are going INSANE!

At the peak of all our chicken pox/HFM drama, Heike got her first three teeth - three top teeth that look very cute. So it seems she has inherited her mother's flair for drama, whereby life ticks along normally for weeks and then BAM! seventeen significant and disasterous things happen in one day. Just to keep life in perspective.

Z xx