Hi, remember me? Good, that makes one of us.

So, how have you been?

Over here in red-tree land we have been through nearly the whole gamut of emotions since last I typed.

We have had a first birthday party (x2) for our baby, been to another 4 first birthday celebrations, had friends over for dinner, went up the coast, went house hunting, put an offer on a house, put our place on the market, experienced umpteen colds (all three of us), got very disappointed by the building report of the house, withdrew an offer on a house, and cleaned this place more than it had been cleaned in the five years we have been here so that strangers can look through and decide whether they would prefer their furniture to live here instead.

Plus the enormity of everyday life with a (now) 13 month old discovering her independence and her ability to climb things.

It has been a very big month.

Hopefully my next post will be a birthday recap of Red Tree Baby.

Til then,

Red Tree Girl

I think the reduction in sleep that has been occurring since the third trimester of baking Red Tree Baby until now has finally caught up with me.

Red Tree Beard got a cold this week (probably from Red Baby, which has been a huge sleep deficit contributor) and because he is a man and is not breastfeeding he got to take cold medicine.

I realised that I was craving sleep when I said to him that I dream of the day of getting a cold (who does that) and being able to take that night-time dose of cold medicine and snuggling down in bed for an unbroken snooze til morning.

I know that this phase of night wakings (currently every 3 hours) will soon be past, but for the moment I feel a bit like a zombie, a zombie who dreams of sleep instead of brains

I click through the earmarked, the regular places of reading, hoping that someone will have said something.

That something will be said.

Blog after blog, page after page. Windows into the lives of those known yet unknown. Familiar faces I will never meet.

I wonder why I get frustrated when others have not spoken since last I clicked my way through their life stories. Is it because so much of my life remains unspoken.

Remains hidden within the corners of my mind and soul that only I ever can reach.

Busted

“Oh, did you say you wanted me to have a sleep? I thought you said roll to the other end of my cot, pull out all the toys and talk to myself.”

Sometimes (too many times) my head is too full. There are too many thoughts, too many ideas, too many worries, too many memories.

Too many that when I sit down to type they all clamour for the exit and to be put on the page, and in doing so clog up the way out.

(Like all the diseases in Mr. Burns off  The Simpsons…”invincible” – this reference is purely for the love of Red Tree Beard and his love of The Simpsons.)

I am working on ways to better organise and use my time at the moment, a massive undertaking. Hopefully by doing so I will be able to break through the too much, and create some more space.

Space for words to flow.

One year ago today I was enjoying the first flutters and butterflies from Red Tree Baby’s tiny limbs on the inside.

Red Tree Fetus

Two years ago today I was sitting in the reception of a mental health hospital waiting to be admitted.

Colour amongst the Grey

Seven years ago today I was finishing up my last day of work as an unmarried woman before my wedding in 3 days time.

Eight years ago today I did not know that in 2 days time that Red Tree Beard would be asking me to marry him at sunset in rose garden.

Just Engaged

What a difference a year can make…

When Red Tree Baby was not yet two weeks old, and not yet one week home from hospital I was finding the sleep deprivation a little rough. She wanted to feed all the time, did not stay asleep for long, and getting her to sleep could take a very long time. All perfectly normal newborn behaviour, but as a first time mummy, recovering from a 30 hour labour then a Caesarean, as well as still learning how to get this tiny beautiful creature to latch onto my painful slightly inverted nipples (TMI?), it was not even in the same galaxy as my “normal” life.

I remember being in the lounge room in the middle of the night wheeling her in the pram back and forth, back and forth, while I lay on the lounge willing her to sleep, wanting to have sleep myself so badly.

Just when I thought she was asleep, her tiny cries began again in earnest, so I gently lifted her out and cradled her close to my chest, as together the tears (Red Tree Baby had REAL tears from birth) streamed down our tired faces.

Through the tears that clouded my vision I looked down at my baby girl. My mind and body craved to be snuggled up in my own bed so desperately, and for a second I thought about laying her back down in the bassinet and letting her cry while I went to my bed and slept.

Then I thought about how hard it must be to adjust to this new and comparatively frightening world for her, how scary it must be to be in the dark seemingly by herself unable to hear my familiar heartbeat. So I sobbed as I promised Red Tree Baby that I would always be there for her, always. That I would always be there to hold her close when the world was scary and she felt alone.

Held on my chest, close to my heart, Red Tree Baby eventually fell asleep.

Thankfully Red Baby is now a much better sleeper and feeder, and as she gets bigger it feels like the time she needs to be cuddled is less as she explores further into the world around her.

There are still times though when I hear that familiar cry and in my tiredness or busyness I occasionally wonder, does she really need me to pick her up and hold her close right now?

And every time my heart remembers the promise I made to her that night, and so I cuddle my baby close, I dry her tears and together we rock as I gently whisper into her ear, “Shhh, its ok, mummy is here, mummy will always be here, I love you.”

I love you for always Beautiful Girl,

Love Mumma xo

Imagine two people each tell you a story about the same thing, except that each story completely contradicts the other. Both stories cannot be true, yet each person believes their story is the truth.

There is no way to prove whose story is the truth, and believing either will completely change the way life is.

Who do you believe and how do you chose?

Red Tree Baby is Eight Months Old. That is two thirds of the way to 12 months. AND 12 MONTHS IS A YEAR.

So glad I decided to do the tricky Maths in Year 12, it has obviously paid off.

Anyhoo, where was I… thats right, 8 months = Red Tree Baby.

There are so many things I love about this photo. That is some good drool you got there baby girl .

As Red Tree Baby is our first child, I thought that she would have a good chance at having a complete and up to date baby record book. (Not a point to bring up at gatherings with my sister, as the third child, lets just say her book wasn’t as complete).

I was wrong. So, before I forget all of the awesome things she is doing and to prevent teenage rants of the future about WHY IS MY BABY BOOK NOT FILLED IN!!!! (love you baby sister xo), I thought I would immortalise them in blog form.

• Baby girl, you are a rolling and pivoting machine. Nothing on the floor of the loungeroom is safe, and you love it when Daddy leaves the laptop down for you to find the power cord (Mummy does not love it as much). You purposely roll and pivot to toys you want to play with.
• You can finally sit unsupported, and managed 45 mins when we were visiting our friends, but you seem to prefer reclining and then back to rolling.
• On your 8 month birthday, you had an appetite explosion. We now have to shovel the food into your expectant mouth, rather than allow you 5 minutes between mouthfuls. You prefer orange food over anything else, with the exception of your morning Weetbix, which you get very excited about.
• You can bang two objects together, and enjoy banging/patting everything with an open hand – Mummy, Daddy, the floor, books, drinks of water, everything .
• Dad-dad-dad is your favourite sound to make. Although mum-mum was your first words, everything is now pretty much either dad-dad, whispering teh-teh-teh or growling (you have the cutest little growl).
• You still have no teeth, Mummy is glad of this when it comes to breastfeeding you.
• The second you stop feeding, you want to be sitting up and cry if I don’t sit you up fast enough.
• You only wake once during the night to feed, and have 12 hours of sleep. You have two regular naps a day.
• You are the most wonderful 8 month old your Daddy and I know, and we love you more than all of Denny’s hairs, plus 5 more.

Love Red Tree Girl aka Mumma xo