Sand For The First Time

Sand
For the first time
Ever
In her life
In her toes
Wind in her hair
Toddling
Along the waters edge

It feels different
When it’s dry
To when it’s wet
And
Oh no
With a rushing sound
The water has left it’s spot
And run up the sand
Onto her feet

She doesn’t know
What it is
What it means
Why it did that
So of course it’s terrifying
Scream
Run away

When we don’t understand
Something
Can’t make sense of
Something
We are all her

We don’t know
Why it happened
Or what it is
Or what it means
So of course it’s terrifying

It’s a long beach
Some sand
Is dry
Some sand
Is wet
The water leaves it’s spot
And runs up to her feet
And it’s cold
And she doesn’t know
What
It
Is

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The Flat Pack Relationship Test

The ultimate relationship test: putting together flat pack furniture.

Everyone should be forced to do it. Preferably an item that takes upwards of two hours to complete. Small room, large piece of furniture a must. Baby crying: optional.

Yesterday the husband and I successfully built a three door 7 foot wardrobe from a flat pack. With a baby who was a bit upset. With a drill that kept needing recharging. And with the worst set of instructions I have ever seen.

We like to think we are relatively competent people, but there was a lot of interpretation and extrapolation required with the minimal instructions. Also there were no written instructions, it was all pictures with ambiguous arrows. Cue Anna turning the instructions round and round in circles.

A snapshot of our conversations over the two hours it took to construct the wardrobe:

“Babe please go and get the baby, I can’t do this while I am listening to her crying”

“We’ve lost half the screws for the doors” “Are they under the 90kg wardrobe??!”

“Kid in the hallway!… maybe just step over her?” “…I am carrying three heavy wooden planks!”

“Where is the Allen key?” “In the laundry somewhere on top of the pile of clothes?”

“Lift!!!” “I can’t! There isn’t enough room here for my bum”

“Where’s the kid?” “I don’t know!”

*Snap*
“…did that break?” “…. yep”.

At the end of the day we had one completed wardrobe, two exhausted adults, one sleeping child, two delicious salmon and veggie dinners, and an assortment of left over screws.

Drink of choice; beer for the husband, baileys for me.

But we survived, with our marriage still intact at the end of it, so test result: pass.

Driving driving baby crying

Radio on
Baby crying
Driving driving
Just keep going

Count the minutes
Then the seconds
Until
They fall asleep
Their tiredness gets the better of them
They can no longer fight it

Driving driving
Crying crying
Bloody traffic lights
Seems like more than a minute

Counting the minutes
Then the seconds
Checking the mirror
The eyelids are fluttering
Just keep going

Driving driving
Crying crying
But the cries are getting weaker
My resolve is stronger

Windscreen wipers
Indicators
Driving driving
Wait
No crying

Tiny little breaths

Tiny little breaths
In
Out
In
Out

Tiny little fingers
Curled around my Tshirt
I look at you
Asleep in my arms
And I wonder
What are you thinking little child

Sometimes you look at me so intently
Making little baby noises
Like I should know what you’re saying
You’re being very clear
But I don’t know

You want to be in my arms
And it’s lovely
But it’s tiring
My back is aching
And I don’t know what’s wrong

You smell so sweet
Baby smell
It’s innocent
Milky breath
Snuggling into my arm
I want to protect you from the world
I want to hold you in my arms

Leave her
They say
Come back to work
She’ll be fine
But she is my little girl
The screams when I leave
Make me ache a bit
Because I don’t know if they’ll hold her like I would

And it is so odd
Because this wasn’t me
When you’re depressed
With a baby
You don’t care
But I have begun caring

Now when they want me to let go
Now when this little person is starting to move away
Now I want to hold on

Sleep in my arms baby
Be safe there
I don’t care what they say

Things about pregnancy: 12 weeks

So, I’m pregnant.

A word of advice: If you are planning ever to use this phrase, be aware that its utterance is usually followed by screams and hugs and altogether too much commotion for a sensitive soul like mine, so use it sparingly or preferably in small groups. I actually prefer the phrase ‘So, I am being an oven’ but some people find that confusing.

Basically so far being an oven has just consisted of a lot of peeing, a lot of feeling sick but not actually being sick, and a lot of waiting around to see if anything else is going to happen. (Early on it also involved lots of keeping a secret, which was not my strong suit and consisted of me telling at least one new person every 1-2 days.)

Nobody tells you how boring the first trimester is, just waiting and waiting and waiting and the baby is growing magnificently but at the same time it is growing so incredibly slowly that I often wonder if perhaps I have imagined the whole pregnancy and I will have to awkwardly un-tell all of those people I accidentially-on-purpose told in the first 2 weeks after I found out.

Anyway. My main experiences of pregnancy so far:

1. There is a possibility that while pregnant you will start punching your partner in the face during sleep. I’m not sure if this is some subconscious ‘you did this to me!’ thing, or just a result of not being able to find a comfortable sleeping position and subsequently taking over the entire bed, including said partners face space. A maternity pillow did help with this development, stat: 2 out of 3 nights survived without face punch! Success.

2. Also: partner will then want their own maternity pillow. I said no.

3. As mentioned above, there seems to be a lot of 3am peeing involved in being pregnant. I’m not sure why 3am. I was always one of those people who occasionally woke up needing to pee at 3am and would just cross my legs and scrunch my eyes shut and go back to sleep because who wants to wander around the house in the dark at 3am?! Sadly this does not appear to be a conducive strategy for pregnancy peeing. Stat: crashing into things only 2 out of 3 nights: success.

4. I started off being super paranoid about foods and what to eat and what not to eat. I probably shouldn’t have read the entire internets opinions on what will definitely, 100 per cent, most likely, possibly, theres a chance, make you slightly sick. I started off despairing that I couldn’t eat anything at all, which for anyone that knows me was a major blow. But gradually I have given up on that and now just sticking to no alcohol and soft cheeses (and unwashed lettuce. And definitely not sausages. And also I should basically just be a vegetarian because any meat that hasn’t just come steaming off the hotplate should NOT be eaten, ever. ) sigh. Yesterday I ate pizza for lunch AND dinner and noone will tell me off because guess what? I’m an oven. Haha!

5. Also, speaking of foods. Anybody that knows me will tell you that there is a 9/10 chance that at any given food-serving place I will locate the burger on the menu in under 3 seconds and order immediately. I lied, its actually a 10/10 chance. When I got a job at a burger place which involved free burgers, my family and friends gushed over how perfect a job for me it was. So it was somewhat shocking to me that one of the things that makes me feel the sickest is the thought of my beloved burgers. It is true people, once you are pregnant you are purely a ‘host’ to your baby’s desires. My desire to eat only burgers forever and ever amen is on the backburner whilst I eat chicken, and some more chicken instead. Sad face.

6. It is worth noting that being pregnant is the greatest cover up for your fat, ever. A few people have found out I am pregnant and said ‘oh yes, I can see you are showing a bit’ and depending on the intimacy of the acquaintance I have either smiled and said nothing, or said ‘no, that’s actually just my fat!’. I’m not entirely sure what is actual baby and what is food baby, but I do look forward to when it becomes more clear!

My favourite thing about being pregnant though is that there is a baby growing inside me, somewhere in there. A freaking baby! It is magical and wondrous and I love reading each week how big it is and how it has now lost its tail, and is growing a spine. It will no longer get teased. I hope the baby is comfortable and doesn’t have too many complaints. I have tried to feed it some fruits and vegetables even though they are not my fave, so hopefully its getting the nutrients it needs.

It is frustrating that there is still like 5-6 months to go, but luckily the years are whipping past and its 2016 already! And soon enough I will have a teenager and wonder where all the years went. So I suppose it’s alright if it takes a while longer now.