WW week 13

I've put on 700 grams and probably deserve every single ounce of it. I knew tonight that I would have put on, so wasn't too surprised or disappointed.

I know that I can safely blame some of the added lard on my heavy and horrible period, but I also know that I haven't tracked properly or exercised as well as I should. My 12 week points tracker ran out of pages this week, I tried just writing everything I ate down on other paper, but I just couldn't do it. I am so used to writing everything down in my handy little purple book, that using something else felt so damn wrong - so I just didn't do it. Pathetic excuse, I know, but I'll blame it on the brain washing from WW the cult.

It's been a long and draining week. I'm hormonal and have weakened with a few emotional eating episodes. My back has been aching and the horrid stomach cramps have been painful, even verging at times on feeling like pre-labour. My headaches are still coming regularly, but I'm fairly sure they are from my eyes. I'm getting to the end of the day (after spending the time after the kids are in bed on the net) and my eyes are all squinty and aching. I've ordered my new glasses, so hopefully once they are here the constant pressure band around my forehead will stop.

I'm not too worried about the gain. Every week around my period I have gained weight, they had a big loss the following week - lets hope this time is the same.

Spring festival 2009

Yesterday afternoon was very, very special.

Grace's pre-school always celebrates the seasons with a festival. This year the Spring Festival was up in the Botanical Gardens on Mt Tamborine, an absolutely spectacular setting which was just perfect for all the little kids. How many other pre-school carers would hold a festival for the children on a Sunday, completely in their time? Another reason why I love school we have chosen for the kids.

One of the Mums had set up a stand for face painting, so of course both kids were into that. Grace asked to have a pink butterfly, whilst Xav was adamant that he wanted a "Big, huge, scary spider pwease"

We all set up our picnic rugs in a lovely shaded area, right beside a boardwalk that weaved in and out of the rain forest - a little persons dream location. The kids ran around playing fairies and monsters, giggling and squealing, having an absolute blast. The ran around and around, hiding behind trees and slipping in and out of the green bushes, running over the bridge and making little boats out of sticks to float down the trickling stream.

Everyone had bought along healthy food to share. The table was laden with so much yummy food, it was hard to choose what to eat. After the blessing on the food (Grace and Xav love singing this and both sung very loudly whilst doing all the proper actions) it was time to eat. My little family feasted on salad, sweet potato and cashew dip, roast vegie patties wrapped in sesame seeds, yummy vegetarian curry, fresh fruit and little home-made cakes. I did have plans of making something, but forgot and did a last minute dash to the farmers markets on the mountain and found a scrummy pineapple & nut fruit cake. It was delicious, and I may or may not have ditched the tag and layed it on a plate to look all homemade like.

After the feast, Miss Amanda and Miss Christine called all the children over to a large area, ready to show the parents something special they all had been practising. Skipping!

It was so sweet to see the 2 carers at either end of the ropes, all in their flowing fairy dresses, as they skipped the rope around for the little 3-5 year olds. Grace waited patiently for her turn, she looked like a mixture of excitement and nervousness and she got ready to start skipping. I was so surprised to see her actually do it and make it successfully through two consecutive jumps! Oh, it was so sweet to watch my little spring fairy concentrate so hard on doing her absolute best at jumping the rope. All the kids had their turns, whilst the parents watched with beaming smiles. Then the kids resumed chasing each other around the rain forest whilst the parents chatted.

Soon Miss Amanda walked through the forest, making a long line of hand holding children and singing "Take me to your story land, lead me gently by the hand" Once all the children were gathered up, they went back over the bridge and into a lovely grassy nook for the spring story. The first story was about a butterfly and Miss Amanda chose Grace to be the child who tries to catch the butterfly in her net. Grace was so excited and happily flitted around trying to catch the purple woollen butterfly. She knew exactly what to do, so must of watched it at pre-school before. The kids all listened intently as Miss Amanda told another story about a little chicken who grew wheat and needed help to pick it, take it to the mill and bake with it. The kids loved watching the little knitted animals playing out the roles of the story.

After the story, Miss Christine whispered to the children to follow her to a very special place. She gathered the children at the end of a winding path, telling them that she had someone very special for them to visit. All the children sat excitedly waiting for Miss Christine to invite them to amble down the garden path. The atomoshere was peaceful, well until my little Xav was so eager to visit Miss Spring, tripped over the rock edging and scrapped his nose and knee. Grace took his place and headed down to the hut to see Miss Spring, where she presented Grace with another knitted garland, a daisy flower and some sunflower seeds. Grace was over the moon, so excited to receive her gifts. After being calmed down by Daddies strong cuddles, Xav came to visit too and was equally excited about his presents.

Duane & I took the kids for a wander around the gardens, it is such a beautiful spot, with lots of themed gardens for the kids to flit in and out of.

It was a lovely way to spend a glorious Spring Sunday afternoon.

Jaded Mummy and Scruffy bum Xav

You know how some days are just one long whingey, whiney 12 hours?

Well today felt like one of them.

Nothing in particularly bad happened, but it was just a cumulative effect of lots of incessant chatter, whinging, refereeing & general kid wrangling. I've gotten to the end of this very long day with not much sanity intact and a knot in my stomach that is going to take a lot of quiet time to unravel.

Thank God though, it's 6.45pm and both kids are tucked up in bed asleep. Hallelujah. I didn't get home till nearly 5pm and by then I was counting down the minutes till dark fell, so that the kids could be put to bed without too many arguments. Dinner was a very quick outside picnic (because their boisterous noise was ruining my inside Zen) of spaghetti and multi-grain toast. I know, bad Mummy but I really couldn't be bothered cooking anything substantial. Duane is not getting home till closer to 10pm, so the quicker the dinner, bath and bed the better. Whilst they stayer outside eating like unfed urchins, I stayed in side for some peace and quiet and made a healthy pizza for myself. Then sat inside (kids still outside doing goodness knows what, I didn't care) and ate in silence.

Then it was a quick dip in the bath, run over with the face washer and shoved into Pj's. The rest of their tummy was topped up with rice milk and then as soon as the sun was down, they were hurried off to bed with a kiss, story and wave as I shut the door and thanked the heavens that my special quiet time had begun. I love the little brats, but oh the silence is delicious.

I meet up with some good friends every Friday for a full day. Nicole wasn't having a great day with her 2 y/o and I wasn't feeling the relaxed easiness of having 2 children either. So, I really should have censored what I said to the singleton Mum's. Instead I rabbited on about how hard it is having 2 kids and how easy it is to just have the one, when really I know that when I just had the one I didn't think that was easy either. I'm cool with that though, I'm sure the Mums of 2 + are rolling their eyes at me and how "hard" I've got it. I know I don't, it's just moments of mental exhaustion, of having to think so much for not only myself, but 2 other people who can be so unpredictable, that wears me done. I really think doing this full time Mummy thing for the last 4 + years is starting to turn me into a bitter old hag.

My memory is just so distorted, that I barely remember what it was like to have only the 1 child. Some days I am just so exhausted and should NOT be allowed to spout my jaded views on those still in the honeymoon phase of parenting. I have many, many more good moments than bad so I really need to be talking about those, not going all "Woe is me".

I guess I just find it all tough, probably cause I fill my head with all types of stupid do's and dont's. I just feel that this parenting gig is going to be my most important role and I'm petrified of stuffing up.

Now, onto more happier things.

Xavier

This little boy has my heart firmly on strings, and sometimes I feel he can play me like a puppet.

I am completely enchanted by him and love, love, love all of his little quirks.

He is such a little boy now, the only glimpses I get of my baby boy are when he is laying beside me asleep. It is only then that I can remember my little Xavy baby, the little boy that I fell so deeply in love with. The last of his babyhood was packed up last week with his night nappies. Yep, my clever little boy has ditched the night nappy and is instead going commando overnight. I am just so proud of him, at the still young age of 2 years 3 months, he is completely out of all nappies. I know he was extremely early at 16 months to be day trained, but he seems so young now to be sent to bed with no bubble butt to smack. He has been dry overnight for months, only waking once in that time with a wet nappy. I decided that I really should follow his lead and just take the no nappy plunge. It's a big leap though, taking the risk of having to do a bed change at some ungodly hour of the night. I do have a big incontinence pad on his bed, also his bed is made up mattress protector, sheet, mattress protector then sheet. So if he does have an accident, it's just a matter of ripping off the top layer and underneath is a freshly made up bed. Good idea hey?

It's been a week already and no accidents though. Can't believe he can go to bed of a night, after a cup of milk, and sleep for 12 hours and then not have to pee till he's been up about half hour. The kids definitely don't take after their mother, who needs the first stop, once her feet hit the ground, to be the toilet.

My sweet little SNAG has also developed a few fine ballets moves. He's been perfecting walking on point for a while now, even running and jumping. So, it's not full point, he goes up on the front of his toes, but it's still quite the skill. It looks painful and something that thankfully he's not doing as much now, Dr google suggested that it can potentially shorten limbs so something that should be discouraged. Also he has been practicing his pirouettes, and most of the time can do a full turn on one foot. Quite the sight to see actually, he puts his little arms out in a pose then twirls around. I went to see Maos last dancer last week, and I'm in awe of how amazing ballet would be, so I'm all all for him to further this interest. Duane wasn't too pleased, until he was sent this clip:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Om6tI5kL6D8
Seems, Ballet might help with the laydees. Wonder if they do Daddy and Son classes?

So far, the terrible 2's have been fairly cruisy for me and Xav. He's generally a compliant little boy who has great comprehension and conversation skills, so we don't tend to get to many frustrating episodes. He speaks in beautifully constructed sentences and can get his point across most of the time. Well cruisy until recently. He's discovered that he doesn't have to be the placid puppy dog that follows Grace around doing whatever she orders, and this has created chaos between the siblings. Grace was happy with her little foot soldier, but now he's answering back and not following orders so graciously. It's funny actually, well for the first few fights it is. I'm using a wonderful diversion tactic now though for the sibling fighting. When they are just bickering and there is no definite instigator, I make them sit on the floor, holding hands and looking each other in the eye. I tell then to stay like that until I come back, or until they can apologise to each other and play nicely. They barely get to a minute before they are giggling, cuddling and apologising profusely to each other. It so works. I love it. They are even starting to instigate when they need to sit and stare, without me even saying it. Let's hope this little tactic works for a long time, cause I'm sure the sibling rivalry is sticking around for a while.

Xav's temper has started coming out, and boy it is scary! It's not something that we see too often, thank God, but look out if he's got his grump on. I still think its a bit funny and tend to just humour him when it happens. I ask him if he's hissyfit is over yet, usually he replies no a few times (then continues to scream, stomp, yell) then after a while says in a defeated little voice "Ninished now" Then he is over it. Yes, he hasn't quite got his tongue around "finished" so says "ninished", which I find too cute to correct.

Sometimes there are just moments with the kids, where you need that picture so you can drag it out for 18th birthday to embarrass them. This will be one of those ones. Xav has decided that his nipples are not just for decoration, he is going to use them to feed his little Iggle friend. I've found him a few times like this, laying down on the floor feeding peacefully. He's seen lots of babies being fed, and must have taken notice of Nicole and Trudy laying down when they feed, cause that's how he prefers too. So, so adorable.

~~Xav laying down to breastfeed his Iggle~~

Just a few quick other things about my little babe. He's learnt how to count to 11, sometimes skipping out 6 or 7, but most of the time can get all the way. He counts out objects and can tell you how many things are on a page, sometimes just by counting in his head. The Truets have been teaching him a few things in French and he is so open to learning it, I really hope that he can pick a few things up. He can say "Merci" "bonjour" "Ar voir" and can count to 3, and all the way to 10 if copying someone. He has a go at pronouncing all other French words, and according to Loic, has a pretty good accent too! So with ballet and a bit of French, he should have the ladies falling at his feet!

Little Xav gives his love out quite freely. He's often telling us randomly how much he loves us and who he loves the most at that time. The main recipient of his love at the moment is Jasper and Logan. He tells me all the time how much he loves both of these boys and will often declare it to them when we visit. It's very cute and I hope he never stops telling his friends how much he loves them.

He is waaayyyy overdue for a haircut. His fringe has grown past his eyes, but it sweeps to the side beautifully, just like all the little trendy teenagers. The hair over his ears is long and thick, however his curls are kicking in now and he has a cute little over the ear flick thing going on. Duane is desperate to cut it, and so was I, except everyone who sees his hair loves it and insists that I don't get it cut. Now either they are giggling behind my back about listening to such ludicrous advice or it really does look adorable. Of course, I think he looks all sweet and delicious with his shaggy, scruffy bum hair do. I might just get the front tidied up (seems its a bonus if they can see past their hair) and let the back and side go scruffy.

~~My little scruffy-bum~

WW week 12

OK, so I've been doing this healthy eating thing for 12 weeks now and although at times I've wanted to go crazy on a block of chocolate, overall I haven't done too badly.

I wasn't expecting big things this week. What, with my little Friday night stint, then a few little "Ah, stuff it" moments, I can't honestly say that I've been a very good student. For example, I'm hanging out at the Truet residence right now, listening to children sleep and I've just scoffed down 2 white tim-tams (Damn you Averil for telling me how good they were).

So it was with great apprehension that I presented tonight. I breathed out deeply and hopped on the scales, praying that my lung capacity is at least a few hundred grams.

Nothing, nada, diddly squat.

I am still spot on 68 kgs, which is exactly what I was last week. I was fleetingly happy that at least it wasn't a gain, then slightly peeved at myself for not loosing anything. I guess neutral was the theme of the week though, considering for a day there, what went in went back out again.

I really have to pull my finger out though and start exercising properly, and do some dreaded ab work. My tummy is still looking like a ball of white squishy dough and Grace asks me every day if I am pregnant.

That kid better not have some sort of psychic gift.

A very messy night

Now, this is not a story that can be glamorised or made to sound anything more exciting than what it is. However, as much as I would like to stick my fingers in my ear and chant "Lalalalalalalala", I need this post as a reminder to not go back there, ever again.

Oh, and kids, if you ever read this, learn from silly Mummy's mistakes and just drink soft drink, ok? Or light shandys like Daddy. He's sensible.

I was having a normal Friday at Nicole's house for Mothers Group. We'd had a great day playing with the kids in the pool and then enjoying the quietness as they all slept and we had lunch. My other Mothers Group were attending a Learning Ladder party and decided to organise an impromptu dinner out to a great little Thai place.

It sounded like it would be a good night with yummy food, laughs and a few drinks. I organised Sera, who is breastfeeding and therefore great as a designated driver, to pick me up around 7pm.

Our alcohol cupboard is nearly over flowing, as neither Duane or I drink but for some reason, people like to give us alcohol. I poked through it and found and innocent looking bottle of Verdelho that I had bought on a quick trip Trude and I had to the Hunter Valley, way before kids.

So we get to the restaurant and no-one else is wanting to drink wine. I think this is where it all went down hill. I was thirsty, but the dumbass in me went to the wine glass to quench my thirst, not the damn water. Lisa had invited 2 of her friends that I had met 1 or 2 times, and after my little shennanigans, hope to never see again.

I was pissed by the time the entrees came out. Not too far gone, but enough to blurt out any minuscule thought that came into my mind. My drunk side has this crazy notion that everyone wants to hear what I have to say REALLY LOUDLY. I'm not a drunk that calmly sits back, sipping quietly. Nope, I'm the obnoxious one that gets louder and louder and louder, totally oblivious to the fact that no-one really gives a shit what I have to say or show (granted that was in context, we were talking about breastfeeding, but c'mon did they really want to see nipple??)

By main course I was completely wasted. My bottle was finished and I was on to someone else's. I did manage to enjoy a small part of my chicken and cashew stir fry, but doubt I'll ever be able to eat that again. I do remember desperately needing to go to the toilet, but being so scared of standing up and walking. Everything doesn't seem too bad until you have to move and coordinate your upper and lower half, without going arse over tit. I did make it to the toilet though, but I vaguely remember Sera helping me. A lot.

I do also remember photos being taken, Duane being called and me even talking to him on the phone. I remember telling everyone that the last 2 times I have drunk, I've fallen pregnant. I can safely say that I was in no state for baby making this time though. I really can't remember what else happened.

Time was a little hazy, but I think Sera & I left the restaurant at about 10pm. I know I gave her my key card and pin to pay for my dinner. Sera and Beck walked with me to the car, but about half way I needed to sit down, so did, on the garden bed. Then the overwhelming urge to throw up came, so up came all my dinner. Believe me, cashews are not nice coming back up. Gritty little things getting stuck in your teeth and throat. Beck & Sera, the bitches, was still taking photos, but also giving me sips of water and holding back my hair. Good friends hey.

I managed the car ride home ok, except the last few mins where I had to really concentrate on not spewing. Sera was chatting the whole time, and I had to tell her to stop as the more she talked the more I wanted to chuck. We pulled up out the front of our house, I got out of the car, said Hi to Duane, then vomited in the gutter, stepped over it and went inside. All class.

Duane was laughing his head off as he stripped me off, put a towel on the bed and tucked me in. Then, he called his Mum to come up in the morning as he had to go to work at 5.30am and he was worried how I would cope.

I was feeling crappy all night, but luckily the kids slept in till 7.30am. That's when I staggered out and realised that my babysitter (God Bless the mil) had been sitting in the lounge since 5.30am. She hung around until Duane got home at 9am, but as long as I was horizontal on the couch I wasn't too bad. She did ask if that was my mess in the gutter that she had to step over on the way in.

It's Sunday and I'm still feeling seedy, but not going to complain about such self inflicted sickness.

Chook security

It was 5am and I was sleeping in bed, enjoying lazy cuddles from my littlest baby who had snuck in sometime overnight.

I heard a few strange noises coming from the chooks, but rolled over and figured as Duane was already up, he could deal with it.

The chooks kept cackling and making their loud "honking" noise, then it sounded like a scuffle and I heard the flap of wings and louder honking.

I stumbled out of bed (remember 5am), expecting to find Duane on the couch either asleep or enjoying his Internet time (I allocate 12 midnight-6am to him!) Nope, not around anywhere.

The chooks had fully ramped the noise up by now. I opened the front door and just as I did a black cat slunk under the front gate and ran away. I quickly did a head count of the chooks, hoping that the cat hadn't just enjoyed his breakfast. The front yard was scattered in feathers, but none of the chooks looked injured.

I really didn't think the chooks could get any louder, but they did, especially Henny. She was honking so damn loudly, with her head high in the air and her chest thrust out, obviously trying to look scary to the intruder.

I tried everything to get her to shut up, remembering its 5am and I'm sure the neighbours where not sympathising with the chooks being scared by a cat. She just would not stop. I called Duane, firstly asking what the hell he was doing at work so damn early, then shoving the phone into the open air so he could hear the lovely sound everyone else and I were not enjoying.

Apparently he had gone up early to chip and putt, my guess is its to eat the coco pops and nutri grain that the club supplies for breakfast - not sure whats wrong with the Aldi weet-bix that he gets here?? Anyway, he suggested a few things and none of the worked. She was just getting honkier and honkier (ok, I know that's not even a word), pacing up and down in front of the cats escape route. I threw some seed out, Dulcie and Silkie gobbled it up but not Miss Henny. Bertha had the right idea, after I came out she went back to bed. Smart girl.

I ran inside and raided the cupboards for rice bubbles, normally her favourite. Nope, still damn honking (I'm not even sure if the noise sounded like honking, but I can't think of anything else to describe the lovely-not tones) The 2 other chooks awake gobbled up the bubbles, whilst Henny carried on, not caring about the treats.

Pea, she loves frozen peas. So I raced inside and grabbed the peas out of the freezer, still hearing loud and clear the constant noise. I scattered nearly a full bag of peas all over the front lawn, I didn't care I just wanted the noises to stop.

She started to look a bit interested, the honking slowed down and then became more sporadic. I knew then that I had her weakness. She started lowering her beak to the ground, then shut the hell up, and ate the peas in peace.

I tell you, if I'd had an axe and a jar of Chicken tonight, she would have been dinner.

But the chook lays good eggs, even if she does hide them in the front garden. We found a stash of a dozen the other day that she had layed under the cycad.

The kids didn't not even stir and its 6.30am now, they are still tucked up in bed (Grace in hers and Xav in ours).

On the upside, gosh its beautiful outside in the early morning.

WW week 11

Woooohooooo!!!

900 grams lost this week, which was a BIG surprise for me!!

I've had a few little hiccups over the last week, but only went over my points one day and making up for it the next. I have been a bit slack and only had a proper walk the once, but I did tackle Ikea the other night - that's exercise right?

We didn't have our usual leader taking the meeting last night, it was a fill in and although she was lovely, she had an accent that was on the verge of making my ears bleed. I tried really, really, really hard to block it out and think happy thoughts, but seriously, I was itching to get out of there. It sounded to me like a mish-mash of Canadian, Scottish and her own little dialect thrown in.

She did pass around a kilogram lump of fat that was interesting to see and imagine the 6 and a half that I have already lost!!!!

So I'm 68kg now!!! Wendy lost 800grams and is down about 11kgs, so doing fantastically.

A long day.

The husband is not coming home till after 7pm and I've been up with the kids since before 6am. That's a long day and my patience is testament to how draining the day has been.

The kids are outside with the slide backed up to the trampoline. I've glanced out, and I think they are jumping from the top of the slide onto the trampoline. I know that trampoline accidents are one of the main reasons for kids presenting to emergency, but right now I don't care. I am getting a nano-second to get dinner ready, so they can go nuts.

The back door has been open and closed a gazillion times by the offspring as they flit in between going all kamikaze on the trampoline and stomping sand all over the already grainy floor. The flies have taken the opportunity to get in, due to the constantly opened door, and have taken residence all through my kitchen.

I decided to take my aggression out on the pesky flying black things, swatting them in every direction, then smelt chemicals burning. I looked over and my hotplates are all burning bright red, with my favourite large and very expensive Tupperware fridgesmart smouldering away on top. Seems when I turned the oven on to put the batch of muffins the brats and I just made, one of them switched all the hot plates on. Not.Happy.At.All.

I've just undone a tin of tuna and managed to spill all the juice over me. Xav just spilt a mixture of ice and water all over the floor. And I've just gone against all my chemical beliefs and sprayed the damn flies with fly spray. My stir fry is verging on being uneatable, cause I had to rush out and get the clothes off the line before it rained. My mouth is aching from having a random piece of bone removed earlier today. Seems there was some left over from a few months ago when I had my molar extracted. I was offered a needle to get the bone out, but the thought of another needle prick this week was all too much. The dentist used a numbing gel and just pulled the bloody thing out whilst I did my best dee breathing to get through the pain. It was all over quick and the pain wasn't too bad.

Hubby better not be late home and better present with some serious apologies.

On the upside, I went to a craft morning at Silkwood and made a felt/wood Mary doll that's going to be part of a Nativity scene.

WW week 10

OK, so to be realistic I really wasn't expecting big things tonight. I have been very good with eating though, well up until last night that is.

Duane was given a free meal for all of us in exchange for some late night limo work that he did last week. Now, given the opportunity of a completely bill-free meal, I decided to ditch the points and just have whatever.

Well, it seems that the WW cult has invaded my psyche and I can't look at food without mentally working out its point valley. It's a cult I tell ya. I'm brainwashed and therefore felt compelled to make reasonable selections from the menu. I decided on the seafood, which although had some deep-fried, it also had a huge salad and I only had 5 of the chips and left the rest. I also stopped myself after 1 piece of garlic bread (I highly doubt they would be using low fat marg - Eeek! Imagine all those points!!) And as hard as it was, I resisted the sticky date pudding with butterscotch sauce and home-made vanilla ice-cream. Now that was extremely hard, but once again my mind was in overdrive calculating the millions of points that would be. Instead I chose a small piece of apple crumble with a dollop of custard. Still not fantastic, but the best of a point-laden bunch.

The kids were fantastic and I was so proud of the way they behaved in the restaurant. They got to order what they wanted, both choosing calamari, chips and salad. They took turns telling the waitress what they would like and used impeccable manners each time she served them. It was such a lovely, enjoyable dinner and felt more like going out with grown up kids, not a little 2 y/o and a nearly 4 y/o. The only other child there was a little boy, probably close to being 3, who was being a little loud but certainly not disruptive or too bad for a little kid. Whilst we were there he was smacked 3 times, all for things that seemed to be so trivial. One of the times he was playing with a car and driving it over his part of the table, the Mum whacked him on the hand and yelled at him through gritted teeth. I felt so sorry for him. Luckily my 2 didn't see any of this happen, I was waiting for Grace to ask all the ?? and wasn't sure how I would answer.

Anyway, after dinner Duane took the kids round to the indoor playground whilst I donated some money via the pokies. I haven't played them for a long, long time and as per usual they gobbled up my $10 eagarly and I was left bleary eyed from all the bright spinning lights. Oh well, thats my donation for this year! Duane put a few keno's on, and he donated too.

It was a great dinner, made even more better by not having to worry about the bill at the end. Seems all my whinging last week about Duane working all the time paid off!

Ok, a bit of track. Back to WW. I was going to be happy to not put on this week, and I came so close to doing this. I only lost 100 grams, but a lose is a lose and I'll happily take it. This loosing weight business is a slow process now that I am coming down to the last few kg's.

Slow and steady will get there in they end I guess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was pregnant with Grace, my blood tests showed up that my cholesterol was very high. As nothing could be done when I was pregnant or breastfeeding, I had to wait to redo the test and figure out what was happening. It's something that I really need to keep an eye on as my Dad died of a very young age of a Heart attack. As Duane had the week off, I decided to head to the Dr this week and get it done. I was also prompted by the fact that I have been utterly exhausted lately with not real reason why. No, I'm definitely not pregnant, definitely.

Maybe its too many late nights or maybe I'm low in iron, but whatever it is it's leaving me so tired and needing copious amounts of coffee to last the day. I'm even having to nap during the day, something that I rarely do. So headed off to the Dr on Wednesday to get a few things checked out. She checked my BP and heart, all seemed perfect. Then she gave me a referral for a full fasting blood test.

I woke this morning and as I wasn't feeling too hungry I decided to head down for the test today. It's only about a 20 minute walk from my house, so I walked down at about 8am. They usually have trouble getting my blood, so I was advised to drink lots of water to get it flowing nicely. After a little wait, it was my turn to go in. I told the women that I have a slight needle phobia and then joked about my daughter and her over reaction to blood! She had a feel around my arms and was struggling to get a good vein. She tried both arms, putting the arm bandy thing on them and got me to pump and make a fist, but none of the veins were coming up big enough. She slapped my left arm a bit, then finally a little vein popped up. Cause she had to get so many vials of blood (4 big ones and 2 little ones) she put the canula and started. My arm was starting to ache from the pressure of the band, but she needed to keep it on to keep the flow. It was getting really sore, so she called the other nurse in to milk the arm as after the first vile the blood had slowed right down.

So now my arm is starting to thump from the circulation being cut off and one nurse massaging the blood down. I was starting to feel a little light headed, but not too bad. Then suddenly, my vision was blurred by bursts of flashing white. I told them I wasn't feeling too well and didn't think I could go much longer. By this stage only 3 1/2 vials had been filled (still 2 1/2 to go), but the nurse took one look at me and realised she had to get the canular out soon. I was slipping in and out, and silently wishing I would stay completely out of it as the heavy, dizziness and nausea took over. That feeling of being on the brink of passing out, would be one of the worst things to experience. I hate it. I wavered for a bit longer, the nurses both trying to hold me up whilst saying "Stay with us, deep breathes, c'mon stay here Kirsten" One of them was waving a giant piece of cardboard in my face, which I remember was really annoying me but I couldnt' get it together enough to tell her to stop. I started coming around, then the overwhelming need to vomit came, so I was handed a rubbish bin. Luckily I didn't end up vomiting and was starting to feel slightly better. I sat for a bit longer, trying to get control of my breathing, then they helped me over to the bed. I was shaking and shivering, having hot and cold sweats. The nurse gave me some water then told me to have a rest and she would call Duane to pick me up. I'd told her earlier that I has walked down and was planning on walking home, not a very good idea though.

After about 10 mins, my colour had come back and I felt like I could get back up. Then I was given the not-so-great news that I would have to go back for the 2 viles of blood they missed out on. Dammit. But at least the ones where I had to fast were taken, so I could go of an afternoon for the next ones and they will be nice and quick.

I'm left now with a very sore arm and a huge bruise around the needle area. I'm not fantastic with blood tests, but I really think the main trouble with this one was the quantity of blood taken combined with having to fast.

Duane came was called to come pick his very dramatic wife up from pathology.

And I wonder where my daughter gets her dramatic reaction to blood from?

Containing the bazookas

Today is Grace's school day and she was super excited that Daddy got to drop her off for the very first time.

It was a lovely relaxing morning for me. Being the thoughtful wife that I am, I let Duane organise the kids whilst I lazed around on the Internet and enjoyed my morning cup of tea and breakfast. I just feel that he needs to experience the drama that happens here of a morning, just so next week when he is back at work watching the grass grow, he can be thinking about poor me stuck dealing with the feral children.

Anyway, finally they were ready and looking presentable, so we headed up to the pre-school to be freed of the curious Grace for the day. I always hang around until 9.30am for the morning song and goodbye song, so today Daddy also got to join in the hand-holding and high-octave singing. Grace was a little teary when we left, but I peeked on the way out and she was happy and getting ready to go inside to be the helper.

With only the little child for the day, we decided to head to Pacific Fair to do a few things. I just want to note here what a fantastic shopping companion Xav is. We haven't used his pram for ages, so I shook all the horrible red dust from it and he was hooked on the novelty factor of being chauffeured around. He happily spent the morning lounging back, sipping on water and eating the healthy contents of his lunchbox. Duane did give him the option of hot chips, but he insisted on Sushi instead. He was very spoilt though with a soft serve at the end of the trip!

I was in desperate need of some new bras and thought I might head to Myer to get properly fitted. I haven't bought new bras for way too long, and the ones that I do have are slightly struggling to keep my gigantic boobs where they are supposed to be.

It must have been a while, cause I couldn't get over how expensive material and wire are nowadays. Just your stock standard boulder holders are up around $50! After embarrassingly showing the fitter my ill-fitting bra, she measured me up and suggested that maybe I should try on some 12E's. Holy Crapola! I was actually hoping that the mammaries had been depleted after breastfeeding - nope all still there plus some. They just look different now, instead of being nice and full and high they are droopy, sagging and looking very sorry for them self. Instead of popping them into a bra easily, now they virtually have to be folded and tucked in.

I was still a little reluctant to go straight to the E without at least giving the old DDs a chance. Of course I was wrong. Boob spillage is not a good look, so after trying on a DD, I then had to admit the E was a perfect fit.

I wasn't looking for anything fancy, just practical. So the sales lady went out to select some bras that she thought might suit. I turned my nose up at the "padded" ones (pfft, as if I need that!), but she insisted that it was merely for shape and actually look really good on. Once again I stood corrected and couldn't believe how comfy this bra is (Triumph, Gorgeous T-shirt bra) and how much better my boobs look North, not dangling around my belly button.

I tried a few others on, but nothing came close to the comfortable first bra. I bought just the one, then if I still find it super comfortable after a full day I'll buy 1 in every colour. A comfy, well fitting bra is hard to come by in my "larger" size!

I really wanted to buy some new clothes, but I am ridiculously hopeless in picking out clothes that suit me. I really have no idea of style and end up buying stuff that is usually way to big or just because it's on special. I found a few things, wandered around the shop, then couldn't be arsed trying them on. I really need to be in the mood and have someone with me to give me the yay or nay. I'll drag Nicole or Trude along to help me some other time.

After Xav had a sleep, we picked Grace up from school and she was once again so excited to see her Daddy. I really don't rate when he is around, both kids spend the whole time vying for his affection. The only inkling of preference I get is if Xav wakes of a night, he sits on his bed calling out "Mummy, come here Mummy" I love it and makes me think that deep down, like waaaayyyy down to the bottom, I am his favourite.

Working hard for his money.....

Yay, Duane has next week of work and I CAN NOT wait!!

Well, seen as how it is the weekend now, theoretically his holiday should of already started right? Nope, my too nice husband said yes to some extra work chauffeuring around some of the members of the golf club that he works at. He worked from 5am Saturday morning, came home for a few hours over lunch then was back out again until 2am. Poor bugger only had 4 hours sleep before he was out again Sunday morning, was home again over lunch and then headed to a friends house to watch the footy final. He did feel extremely bad about leaving me again, especially since the kids were in fine form, but I insisted that he go as it was something he had planned for ages. He came home in time to put the kids to bed, then back out for a limo job to Brisbane airport and back. It's nearly midnight on Sunday night and he still isn't home.

Thank goodness he will be handing over the limo for the next week as well as not having to go to his other work. The limo work started out just as a favour to the Golf Club and only supposed to be occasional. Apparently though the members all love him, so there has been lots of requests for him to do the pick ups and drop offs. He doesn' t mind it, and the pays not too bad. It just eats into a bit of our time and financially its a bit complicated. I have to estimate his income for Family tax, and with the extra work it's hard to make sure we don't get over paid and end up with a big tax bill. I know I could just over estimate his wage, but then its tough on the weeks that he doesn't get overtime.

Ok, the moneys not the main problem - the big issue is we usually miss out on our rare mornings together. He leaves for work every weekday at about 5.30am, then Saturdays is his golf day, so Sundays are the only morning that we get to spend together. Its the only day we all get to wake up together (I enjoy that for a second, then kick them all out of the bedroom so I can have a sleep-in!). The kids adore having Duane around in the morning, their excitement at seeing him when they wake is gorgeous.

ETA - He didn't end up getting home until after midnight. He was absolutely exhausted from all the late nights and early mornings, so spent the majority of today catching up on sleep. As much as I wanted to blare the music and get the kids screaming at full volume, I kept them amused outside and let him snooze on the couch. BUT, now he's caught up on sleep, there wont be any lazing around for the rest of the holidays, there are a bunch of things that I want to do. There's Ikea trips to be done, trips to Dreamworld and White water world before our 2 year pass runs out and lots of family time at the park/beach.

By the end of the week, he will be BEGGING to go back to work for a break!

WW week 7,8 & 9

Ok, so I am 3 weeks behind posting my WW results, so I'm going to throw it all in together here.

Week 7 - An ok week, lost 600 grams. I was fine with this as the previous week I had put on 200 grams, which at the time I thought was just terrible.

Week 8 - I got my period the day before weigh in, feeling bloated and yucky I was hoping to either have a small loss or at least stay the same. Nope - I had PUT ON 500 grams. Crap, crap, crap. I left the meeting feeling very down and starting to doubt whether it was all worth it. I mean, I could eat crappily and doubt I would put on 500 grams in one week. I added up my lose for the month and all up I had only lost 100 grams. But wanna know the really funny part of that? I had bloody paid $60 for that privelege. Funny hey! After my little sulk I decided to try really hard this week in the hope that I could lose the 500 grams and hopefully a little more.

Week 9 - I kept within my points for most of this week, however I had 2 kids birthday lunches to go to so had to guess points for those 2 days. I made good food choices, but it's just really hard to estimate points of some foods and also to not be tempted by tiny little caramel slices. Ok, I had to have 1 of them, but in my favour, they were teeny tiny but OH so good. Anyway, I did manage to fit in a few walks and even managed to mow the lawn in a bid to burn some calories. All this must of worked because I got quite the surprise when I weighed in tonight. 1.8kgs LOST this week, which takes me to 5.4kg all up. I was not expecting that big a loss, but I'll take it thank you very much. It's given me a fresh dose of motivation and now I finally feel like I'm on the home stretch. I'm exactly 69kgs now and I think I'd like to get to about 65kgs, so not too far to go.