Tortillas at Midnight

These days I feel torn in two directions Pulled and tugged and wishing I could split into two, for my Spaceship bumbling patiently along, destined for Saturn And my rocket soaring through the galaxy, determined to reach the moon And there I am, anchored down in the middle Two feet firmly planted in this space of sorts Where I can stretch, 25% maybe, but I can never grasp either completely Entirely As they rush and flow and change I can only give each a little. It’s hard not to feel like my attempts are half-hearted Because, trust me, I’d love to follow the rocket, seeing how high she can go Just as I’d love to carefully hold the spaceship, to wrap her up with steel and wool Yet these arms of mine are too short to swarm throughout the galaxy Running after them both; My arms must be stagnant. Yet when my vessels need a break from those grand, old Adventures they set out upon  They have somewhere familiar to return to I’ll always be grounded right here in the middle Whether by lack of...

Here’s a special selection of thoughts brought directly to you from the depths of an ungodly hour, where nothing makes any sense due to obvious reasons. Happy reading! - Who on earth carved the manatee . Did they find the person? Was it Trump himself? Humans are Terrible, end of. - One of my mum friends once told all of us other mum friends when we were in the depths of sleep deprivation with our first, that if you’re breastfeeding then apparently your body does some magic and each hour of sleep is technically worth double. So if you get a whooping 2.5 hours of sleep, then this supposedly equals a grand 5 hours. This doesn’t appear to make any sense, but I think everyone hoped/wished/begged it to be true. - How do rubbish trucks collect the rubbish from a bin if there is a car parked in front? What is this sorcery? I’m 25 and I’ve never worked it out. - BreastfeedingIsGreatBreastfeedingIsTerrible. Repeat x107, day and night. - I was under the impression that only children wore mittens....

I survived! My husband went back to work today and I managed to survive my first day alone with two under two. To be honest, it feels like quite an achievement. I didn’t even cry! The day went surprisingly smoothly and it was actually quite nice to have a quiet day amongst everything else we’ve got going on at the moment. There was only one moment of true chaos, when both the toddler and the newborn cracked it at the same time, but we muddled through to the other side and lived to tell the tale. These past few days have been hectic, even for us. Our house has become a revolving door of tradies, real estate agents, and very kind friends and family who are helping us to finish it off. Let’s just say that the sawdust to carpet ratio spread throughout the entire house isn’t pretty. But it’s getting done, somehow; it’s coming together. This afternoon I realised that we’re kind of doing exactly what I had hoped wouldn’t happen when we were planning everything; renovating hurriedly, buying, a...

We don’t seem to do things by halves here, even though both my husband and I agree that sometimes, we really just should. Even just 4/5ths would be a nice change.  Ever since we got together, we seem to do everything at once. It’s annoying and stressful and sometimes a bit exciting, and did I mention stressful? We always have multiple things on the go and it can be a lot to handle. Our current “let’s do everything all at once” saga involves renovating two houses and having two babies, in under two years. It’s a bit much, really, and we both agree that we’re done with renovations and having babies. The idea of just being is so very appealing, yet the ironic thing is - we just have to do everything all at once for this one last time - and then we can just be . Well, we don’t actually have to per say, because we’re choosing to, but we’re choosing to because we have stupid expectations. We must always remember that these are our choices and to own them.  Anyway, it’s currently 9:...

Fourteen days, baby! We’ve finally arrived at a point where I feel more like myself and I have hope that things are returning to a new sense of normal. It’s such a relieving feeling to just know, deep down, that things are going to be okay. Of course people tell you that all along and you know it logically, but to actually feel it within yourself is grounding. We’ve got this. I’ve got this. It’s not as scary as I thought and I’m feeling okay much sooner than I thought too. We don’t have a routine as such going, but I feel pretty capable of handling the situations that arise and they are predictable in a way. We eat, we sleep, I’ve had plenty of chances to run around with my toddler, and we’ve all been figuring out how to keep going forward. These past few weeks have been a really special time for the four of us, working things out. My husband has been incredible, as always, so it’s not much of a surprise, yet it does impress me over and over again to see him grow as a father. He was a ...

How many more days until you go back to work? I check the calendar twice a day. I’m 98% scared and 2% like “I’ve got this.” Until I don’t, maybe. My phone told me that my screen time increased by a whooping 83% in the past week. Sudoku is how I’ve been trying to keep myself awake during all the wake ups. I’m trying out the medium level. As my eyelids drop and crash time and time again, I see all the little numbers. The grids. Keep playing. Stay awake. Where does the next eight go? The websites say that if you start to feel drowsy while feeding your baby, put them in a safe sleeping environment and go get some rest for yourself. This is both sage and laughable advice. Why do they think we’re even up every 45 minutes, feeding, if not to try and get sleep? If only it were that easy, too. I’m sure all babies understand that when the person feeding them is tired, that it’s just time to happily go to bed. Go figure. Our oldest has sprung up heaps of new words these past few weeks, and a coup...

Seven whole days since our small bean arrived earthside! It feels unbelievable that she’s reached the one week mark already, yet it also feels like she has been here for much longer. And what a long week it has been at that! For the most part, things have been going surprisingly well (please touch wood). She’s a settled and happy wee thing who has kind of just slotted into our family. Her big sister talks about her all the time and is very curious, but a little bit hesitant to touch her. She has taken it all in her stride though and we are so proud of them both. Feeding is going well, sleeping is going well, and overall things feel manageable and good. It’s truly a very welcome contrast to our experience of becoming parents the first time around. We’ve definitely had our moments where things feel a bit much or the adjustment is tricky, but this time round these are only moments you know, rather than 24/7? I am afraid of jinxing things though, despite knowing that we will have our ups a...

Let’s all take a moment to virtually praise and thank whoever invented nipple shields. They’ve been around since the 1600s apparently, so whoever it was back in the day: you’re a legend. Nipple bearers in 2021 are still thanking you. I think nipple shields are my new favourite object, probably in the entire world. Really, what can beat them? Dishwashers and vaccines are cool and all, but have you ever stuck a shaped piece of silicone over your nipple and then instantaneously stopped wishing it would fall off? This invention is a true miracle. Last night was A Night to Remember and sadly not in a RnV way, but rather a “everything was going fine and then it wasn’t and now the worlds ending” kind of way. Breastfeeding, up until yesterday evening, was going very surprisingly well. It was painful, yes, but I didn’t feel too overwhelmed with it and it felt manageable. However, I think the past few days of cluster feeding all just caught up and what was Fine was suddenly excruciating and Very...

People talk in hushed tones about the second night. Maybe it was mentioned at antenatal class. Maybe you saw a friend emerge the next morning, looking like she’d been through something. Or maybe you’ve just been there yourself, in the depths of it all, and somehow you climbed your way out. We’re having our second night right now. And I’m going to get this out before an inevitable hormone whirlwind strides along, sweeping me away: it has been pretty lovely. We’d been well warned of what the second night typically brings, so my husband got all busy making sure we had everything we needed to ride it out. This simple gesture of understanding made me fall in love with him a little bit more. We ate dinner. We talked for ages about all the things: birth, the funny new words our toddler says, how getting stuff done has suddenly become less urgent. We watched some tv. We snuggled together; our new small bean camping out with us in this big, wide, second night of her life. She just wants to be c...

This is short and little, just like my daughter (well actually she’s tall and little; you know what I mean), but I just wanted to keep this memory somewhere because it was oh so warm and divine and something to store in forever-land. Last night she woke up at about 1:30am and didn’t seem to want anything in particular, aside from me. She seemed all sleepy, but didn’t want to go back to her bed. So I brought her into our bed and she was so snuggly, it was the most beautiful thing. She is never, ever snuggly. She’s always too busy moving or running or wanting her own space. She loves to be carried around, being part of doing  things, but very rarely cuddles or will be still and close to us. She nuzzled and nestled and made sure that my arms were constantly wrapped tight around her. She held my hand and rested her head on me and chatted away in the wee hours. It was the most special time and so unexpected too, which made it all the more warm and fuzzy. She didn’t fall back asleep for ...