Winter Blues & Bugs

Does anyone else ever have the reoccurring dream where you’re falling, uncontrollably flailing, from clifftops, out of airplanes, off bridges, from the top of buildings and other such lengthy drops? At first you struggle, limbs flapping against the pressure of the wind, hair follicles pull fiercely against your scalp, your teeth bared as if in battle, and yet as your fate nears your fists unfurl, your mouth slacks, your eyes dull, until eventually you’re almost calm. Delirious but calm. After all, you’re fresh out of alternatives. Of course, you wake up right before your body catastrophically combusts all over the pavement, however the adrenaline lingers in your blood for the rest of the day.

This is how I feel about life in general at the moment. Like from the minute I wake up I am falling, being pulled in various directions, unable to control the situation, and eventually come nightfall, giving up and admitting defeat.

Winter hasn’t been kind to us this year. Blake and Oscar have been struck down by illness after illness, fresh germs invading almost immediately after they recover from the previous infection. A sleepless night follows the previous sleepless night, tiredness resounds in my bones and in my brain. And then the unthinkable happens, Oli and I get sick too.

Not just your average run- of-the-mill cold either. Sweats, chills, fevers, relentless headaches, muscle aches, joint aches, burning iris’s, and a barking cough that kicks into gear right when you lay your head on the pillow at night. Oli gets it worse than me, I manage to recover after a few days, he’s well into week 3.

Snarky comments have been thrown about the last couple of weeks, patience has worn so thin I’m uncertain it exists anymore. Our united front has crumbled under pressure and eventually the lid blows.

We haven’t spoken in 4 days. Not speaking is my least preferred form of torture. Give me a yelling match and a quick recovery any day but this? This is unbearable. I wave the white flag, he still ignores me. I yell and scream, he still ignores me. I ignore him, he ignores me. 4 days feels like 4 years and my mind feels like it has run a marathon. I miss him. He’s right there, and I miss him.

Come next week, I'm sure all will be well in our world, but today, I'm still mid flight, waiting for the calm to wash over me as the day draws to an end. 

Sorry to swoop back in and parade my misery this morning, I wish I came bearing good news, a sarcastic joke or two. Not today folks, today I just came to vent. And now, I feel surprisingly better. Just because Oli won’t talk to me, doesn’t mean I can’t talk to myself. Or to you- if anyone still bothers to check in here these days.

Here’s to the ass end of winter anyway, thanks for nothing- you can fuck off now. Bring on Spring.

Gem.

P.S Read "When Breath Becomes Air"- you won't regret it

Whats one more?

This morning I felt the overwhelming urge to pour my heart out in a piece of writing. To tell it like it is. With a touch of sarcasm and dark humour of course..

Lately I’ve been dreaming of a third baby. 

My womb has been aching at the sight of protruding tums and tiny bald heads bobbing up and down over shoulders. Spew rag in tow. I’ve even gone so far as to write an extensive list of potential names. Yeah, I’m deep in the yearning phase. 

I’m not entirely sure what has triggered these highly emotional feels. Maybe its realizing that Oscar has not a trace of baby left anymore (despite my persistent cradling which is always met with his forceful escape), maybe its seeing and smelling our sweet new nephew, maybe it’s the moon, maybe it is all of the above. Maybe I’m mental. As Oli would say. 

We were done. Finished. On the path to freedom and family holidays for four (much more affordable/ logical than five). No people movers in sight. Bottles were discarded. Cot sheets, clothes, toys donated. GG maternity bras burnt (not really but they should be). 

And we are still done. I think… Olis still firm, and as we all know- it takes two to tango. His business is taking off rapidly already, I’m still thoroughly enjoying working four days a week and having two incomes. Our house is slowly being transformed, and we have a heck of a lot more in the pipelines for it within the next year. It feels like we’ve just come out the other side you know? Life is really working in our favour. Why throw a baby into the mix and backtrack? (Is what Oli and everyone else seems to want to tell me)

To which I say, babies are not backtracking. Sure they may be a lot of work for the first couple of years, that’s a given. But what about the next 60 years of enjoyment? Everyone is so quick to point out the short term ‘inconveniences’. Especially me. I’m all “urghhh sleep deprivation, weight gain, childbirth, 3 children, THREE to cart around”. How about the life time of love? Huh folks, how about that? Factually speaking though- Blake will be at school next year, followed closely by Oscar, they’ll have fled the nest, left me for dust. And I know, that will be the point where I think- shit, I wish I had a baby. A dependent little being to nurture and caress. 

The dilemma is, by then, the gap will be borderline too big. I’m not down with huge gaps. If we were to really take the plunge, I wouldn’t want to wait another couple of years until we’re really out of practice and the kids are giants and my body goes into full blown shock at the sight of a fertilized egg again, ya know? 

Or- this could all just be a big phase and I could snap out of it next month, wherein Oli and I laugh at that month of May where I nearly lost the plot and thought we should do it again. “Hahahahaha, can you imagine if you complied Oli? Hahahaah, goodness me I am full of shit ideas aren’t I?”.  And that would be that. 

 For once though, I am not going to jump on my idea and totally run with it. Force Oli to partake in the madness. This ones a big one, so we are going to sit on it until the end of the year, and re assess. Like the mature, life changing decision making adults that we are. 

I’ll leave you with this snap of delicious Uno month old Blake though- and maybe then you can see why I feel this spastic urge:

Gem

Oscar turns two

Oscar aka Ossy aka Ossy bum aka Oss burgs turned two last Saturday. Are you all thinking what I'm thinking? Didn't he just violently shoot out her vagina like a rocket into space like last week??

I KNOW! (the memories are still very raw)

Two whole years. Wow. In so many ways it feels like Oscar has always been with us, or with me I should say. At my feet, clutching to my calves with his chubby little mits, pleadingly looking up at me, "Mum, food?" "Mum, tuddles?" "Mum" (often its just Mum with no follow through, mostly when I'm doing anything besides giving him my undivided attention).

I vaguely remember our lives before we turned into a family of four, its blurry, but there was certainly more sleep, definitely more family outings, and a heck of a lot more patience on my behalf. Before Oscar came along, I was sure I had this mothering gig down pat. I was confident to the point where I was bordering cocky. Or, I was just flat out cocky. "What do you mean this is hard? Did your baby not sleep through from 3 weeks old? Did they not just adapt easily to your environment and be cool with whatever you're doing or wherever you're going? Flights are sooo easy with babies they just sleep!" That was me- what a fucking dick. Why did nobody slap me? Not to worry though folks, I paid for it tenfold when Oscar arrived.

After an incredibly hard and fast home birth, Oscar flew out grunting, beet red, squirming, and crying. That didn't change for 12, excruciating weeks. Colic, reflux, and sleep deprivation decided to set up camp for 3 loooooooong months and I morphed into an emotionally unstable wreck. In all seriousness, I couldn't love Oscar. I wanted to, I so badly wanted to look down at him whilst he was feeding and feel nothing but heart warming joy, pride, and contentment. Instead I felt angry, bitter, helpless and resentful. I joke about this period of our lives a lot, however all jokes aside, it was the single worst experience of my life. By the end of the 12 weeks, I felt like a shell of a human, literally and figuratively. And then, as babies tend to do (and as everyone tells you whilst you are wading through the shit storm but you don't want to hear it because it doesn't fucking matter when you've had 1.75 hours of sleep, total. TOTAL) Oscar settled in. He started to sleep through, and smile! Smiling was a biggy for Oli and I, because he was Oscar the grouch for what felt like forever so that big gummy smile was a huge reward. Finally! We are doing something right! He loves us! He really loves us! Before we knew it, he was sitting, and then crawling, and then standing up, and then pottering around on his thick little legs, running full pace into Oli as soon as he walked through the door each arvo, smothering us both with smooches and tuddles, and just generally being a total heart throb.

I fell madly in love with this wee boy.

And now - Oscar is an empathetic, hilarious, hungry, boisterous, amazingly vocal, push-the-boundaries-on-a-daily-basis, full of heart human being. At 19 months he started parroting Blake, and he was stringing full, clear sentences together well before he turned 2. Everywhere we go, people are drawn into the Oscar vortex, all it takes is a simple "Hi" and a wave of his hand and they're hook line and sinkered. Throw in the fact that he has his sisters giant blue peepers and nobody stands a chance.

His sleeping has been erratic and exhausting ever since our move home to NZ, but in recent months he is mostly back on the 12 hour bandwagon (we will give it an even 80%) and that is making juggling working/ parenting life a heck of a lot easier for us. Alas, he still has this horrible little blanket that he uses as a snuggly, and that thing is the bane of my life. For example; 3am today "Muuuummm my snuggles, MUUUUUUMMMMMM". So we are booking in a burning ceremony for that any day now.

And seeing as he's reached the big two year milestone, we (reluctantly) are about to bust out the old potty again. TT round 2. Insert a monotone "yay". This time will be slightly different to Blake, not just because of the different 'bits' but because a lot of the training will be done at his kindy. I'll be sure to keep you in the loop with his progress on that one.

On his actual bday this year, we (conveniently) had a wedding to attend, so rather than stressing over some big soiree with 50 tier high cakes, and 100 grubby kids tearing our place apart (thats most definitely a huge exaggeration by the way as Oscar has approx 4 friends max), we decided to invite the fam over and a couple of Oscars little mates and his favourite cousin Sadie for an early morning birthday brunch involving bacon buns, mimosas, hash browns and of course- cake. Which I made, and might I add- was actually edible and dare I say it- good (baking is not my strong point, nor do I find it enjoyable in the slightest- the pressure!!)

Oh look- here we are!

It was a wonderful little affair, and I'm definitely making a mental note for the birthdays to come that bday brunches are where it is at. Anything with bacon is where its at though really.

And that my friends, is a wrap! Another year down, one toddler and one mini Madonna in our care, still ending every day with smiles on our faces and huge chunks of cheesy love in our hearts, so thats a #win.

Enjoy scoffing back those oval eggs and hot cross buns in excess this weekend won't ya?

Gem

Thought of the day "Did I tell you guys we have a 5th mini Tabak in our clan- this is Rudy, and he is absolutely delicious! 

March?

March? Fucking march?

Really?

Would someone care to explain to me exactly how it is March already? Its quite possible every single one of my posts from here on out, will have at least (emphasis on the least) one whinge about how quickly time is going. I had heard this is a ‘Mum’ thing, but I tend to lean more towards a ‘we are all getting old’ thing.

So anywho, despite my protests, it is infact March. Which means- my teeny tiny infant still-rocking-him-in-cradle-position-even-when-he-is-resisting baby boy Oscar is approaching two. Yup, two. March the 12^th is the day to be exact. So whilst he is sprinting, walking, talking (and I don’t just mean ‘Hi, Bye, Mum, Dad’ either. I’m talking “Mum, we are going over da bridge….. Mum we are SOOOO high….. Mum I can see da water….. Mum Look! A truck! Mum it’s a truck and a digger! Its yellow! MUUUUUUMMMMM!  Y E L L O W!!!!), and eating his own meals without any help (“No, I’LL DO IT”), snoozing in his big boys bed minus any safety rails because he’s a bad ass like that, and just generally NOT being an infant at all, here I am standing back in bewilderment thinking “Now, tell me again where the hell those two years are hiding please?”.

There he is! So devilishly handsome 

Despite feeling incredibly nostalgic (as always) about my little humans growing into big humans, I’m also at a stage where I feel especially excited about the people they are becoming. Watching them race around pretending to be dinosaurs, all teeth bared and raaaaawwwwwwwrrrrrrsssss, releasing and expanding their imaginations- exuding confidence and an astonishing amount of energy is fascinating. And then when five minutes into said pretend play, someone inevitably gets injured in some small (or sometimes large) way, watching their empathy unfold as they wrap their arms around each other kissing the sore spots and reassuring with “there you go, its ok now” is enough to make me weak at the knees. Buckling I tell ya. They’re just so bloody precious. Delicious. Mischievious. Adventurous. Smooch-their-cheeks-until-they-break-free-on-a-daily-basis-ous.

And here they are just out doing their own bunnings shopping- who needs Mum anymore?

About now is the point where everyone starts asking on the regular, “so how about that third kid eh? Eh? Eh?”. Crikey, give it a rest- I’ve only just recovered from the trauma of two consistent years of sleep deprivation, my uterus is shivering at the thought. Seriously though, Oli and I are still on the two child bandwagon two years in. And even though some days I’ll have an overwhelming maternal tug at the heart strings where (we’ve obviously had a rare full sleep and no tantrums day) I’ll think ‘whats one more?’. To which my realistic hubby would reply, its another mouth to feed, another two years of no sleep, another step away from our budding freedom, aaaaaand another 9 months of you moaning. Oh yeah, that’s right, lets stick to two.

On another note, my work hours have recently been extended to 4 full days a week Mon-Thurs, and despite every single morning being absolutely and utterly manic- I’m talking flying lunchboxes, smoothie sculling until I gag, half ironed clothes and shooing kids out the front door- we are managing to make it work (kinda), and its really making me appreciate the time I do spend with them over those 3 day weekends. Dare I say it, I actually miss them when I’m at work. And in turn, it helps me have less screaming matches at/ with them and be a heck of a lot more patient too which is bloody good for the soul.

Whilst I've been wrangling work and the kids, Olis been working his ass off to start his new business. There's some very exciting things I will share with you all shortly, but for any of you Mounties, make sure to remember to refer Olis exceptional electrical skills to your neighbours, your parents, your grandparents, your grandparents friends, and anyone else who will listen. 

Besides all of the above, when we get a spare sec, we’ve been chipping away at our house, trying to sex it up as much as poss on a somewhat limited budget. Last weekend we (along with Dad and TJ) gave the new fence a fresh lick and it turned out pretty suave in a smooth grey:

Next on the agenda, the overwhelmingly large agenda, is doing some landscaping. Good old Grandma is popping over this weekend, soil in tow, to guide me into growing our first veggie garden, woohoo!! Trust me when I tell you, Granny knows what’s up. Her green thumb is world famous (in Te Aroha). So I’ll be sure to fill you in on how that is growing, and if you’re in the neighbourhood I may even skip over with a basket full of fresh goodies. (The chances are slim but theres always hope).

Speaking of fresh delicious goodies- its about time I posted a recipe. Its only been a good 6 months-ish right? Last night, after spotting a particularly drool-worthy Instagram post by Loni Jane, I decided it was dhal time. Dhal is such a perfect meal for cooler nights, its full of nutricious fats & proteins, and it makes for warm full satisfied (bloated) bellies.

There wasn’t an actual recipe on the Instagram post I saw, just a snap, so I just took a stab at it and it turned out pretty damn delish:

I threw in;

Two cups of red lentils (washed thoroughly)

1 x tin of brown lentils in brine (drained and washed)

1 x 400ml tin of coconut milk

2.5 Cups of water

1 x onion finely chopped

2 x plump cloves of garlic finely chopped

1 thumb of fresh grated ginger

2 x red chilies sliced

1 heaped tablespoon of curry powder

1 heaped tablespoon of garam masala

1 tablespoon of turmeric

1 tablespoon of ground coriander

2 teaspoons of ground cumin

1 teaspoon of cinnamon

And jasmine rice, fresh spinach leaves, fresh coriander and lime to serve

Method:

In a deep pan, saute the onions, garlic, and ginger in coconut oil for 5-10 mins. Add the Curry powder, garam masala, turmeric, ground coriander, cumin & cinnamon and stir for another couple of mins. Add the coconut milk, water and red lentils and bring to the boil. Season well (next time I will use vegetable stock rather than water as I had to salt it quite a bit). Bring it down to a simmer after it has come to a boil and leave for 30-40 mins. Add the brown lentils and chilies and stir. I left mine for a good hour but it could have gone for much longer to soak up all the flavours. The dhal should have a porridge like consistency, thicker than soup but runnier than hummus. Serve on a bed of rice & spinach and top with limes and coriander.

Enjoy at least 4 times the recommended serving size in one sitting, and then bask in your bloated glory.

Lately I have not been digging meat at all so I’ve been loving veggie dishes- another dish I made on Monday night was potato crisp tacos. Filled with crispy potatoes, avocado, spinach, jalapenos and cucumber- these little babies hit the spot! Sorry I don't have a snap to insert but you can picture the goodness. 

So stoked winter is right around the corner, its carb season- rice and potatoes for miles.

Ok I better wrap this up before I become a bore to you all,

Happy hump day creeps,

Gem

Thought of the day “I have major girl crush feelings for Margot Robbie”