No break for the holidays

I love the school holidays, maybe not quite as much as I did when I was actually at school, but there's no doubt that they are still great. Not having to get up early every morning, no lunch boxes to pack,(ugh, lunch boxes) time to spend with the kids. 

It's not all fun and games, having children at home all day can lead to craziness, fights and cries of 'but I'm bored!' but over all I love it. Apart from one slight problem that is. You see, back in the days when it was me who was on holiday from school, I got a break. There was no homework to get finished, I didn't have other things that I had to get done, even in the days when I had a part time job, it was only a few extra hours in return for extra spending money while I was off. No fuss, no pressure.

These days though, children being home from school means more work. This is where working from home becomes a struggle. Somehow I've got to fit in all of the things that I have got to get done, while still making sure that I'm not ignoring the children and finding fun things for them to do. I don't want to park them in front of the TV and hope for the best while I work my way through my to-do list. 

Fortunately they are quite good at entertaining themselves, and each other for that matter, but I don't want them to have to just rely on that, I want to be part of the school holidays fun to. Sadly though, there's a pile of work to get through that just isn't getting any smaller. I'll just have to try and juggle things until they're back and school and then get back on top of it all again then. Hopefully.

An alarming discovery

We've always been really careful to make sure that we have working smoke alarms. The children all know what to do if there was a fire. We've talked about how to get out safely, where to meet, who to call. They've learnt the same at school. Our kids are firewise; they know to get down, get low, get out.

Except, they don't. If you'd have asked me a week or so ago, then I would have said that it wasn't a problem. I was wrong. Fortunately, we didn't find out the hard way, but we had a bit of a wake up call all the same.

Just the other day, the kids were all in their rooms. The youngest having a nap, the others chilling out, reading books and relaxing. I was in the kitchen cooking lunch and I set the smoke alarms off. Now this isn't a regular occurrence in our house, but it has happened before. Even so, not one of the children came out to see if there was a problem. Not one of them left the house, just in case. They assumed it was a false alarm and did nothing.

The problem is of course, that it's human nature to assume that all is well. That the worst won't actually happen and that everything will be ok. If there was a real emergency, then of course we would get the kids out, shout them to leave their rooms, make sure that they were safe. But that's not really the point. An emergency is just that, anything could happen meaning that we weren't able to do that. We teach the kids what to do in an emergency so that they will actually do it.

You can teach your children what to do, but until it actually happens, there's no way of knowing if they really will do it. We talked to them, explained that if they hear the alarm they must always act as though it's a real emergency, just in case it is. Even so, I'm less confident than I was. Some day soon I'll be testing them though, setting off the alarm and seeing what happens, making sure that this time they really do get out. 

How would your children react? Would they really act as though it were real? Or just assume that it was a false alarm? It's worth finding out, so that you don't have to learn the hard way.

There were ten in the bed

What is it about small children and taking things to bed with them? I can understand the soft toys, teddy bears, and even the security blankets that small children want to snuggle up with. Dolls and other toys you can cuddle also make sense, but it's all those other random items that children taken to bed with them.

When M was two I once went into his bedroom to check on him and found him cuddled up with a plastic fire engine. On another occasion it was a toy digger. Over time I've found him in bed with everything from boxes to tractors, trains to books and even once an old (clean) tin can.

With A, it's not so much what she takes to bed, but how much she takes to bed. Some times, when I go in to check on her at night, it takes me a few minutes to work out which head to kiss. The other night for example we had A (obviously) two dolls, a teddy bear, a soft toy and a pile of books. I've been in on other nights and found a whole flock of penguins tucked up in bed next to her, (not real ones of course).

It can't be comfortable surely? There are times that I really have to wonder how they manage to fit into the bed themselves.

I think all four of them have gone through this everything in the bed with them stage. I have no idea if it's a comfort thing, or just a way of making sure that the favourite toys are on hand the second that they wake up, (and of course that no pesky brother or sister has chance to make off with them).

Have your children gone through this phase? Or are mine just a bit odd?

Going shampoo free

I don't use shampoo on any of my children, they are all shampoo free.  I'd like to do the same myself, but I think my hair is too used to regular washing with shampoo.  It didn't start out as a concious decision to never use shampoo, but that's just how it's turned out.

Newborn toiletries

When all of the children were newborn, I didn't use any toiletries at all with them.  Newborns don't really seem to get dirty, and to be honest there isn't really any need for lots of bubble bath and shampoos when they they are really little.  Newborns smell lovely with out any artificial scents added, and their sensitive skin means that it's best to avoid toiletries, I'd always intended to start using shampoo at some point though.  As Kai got older, he just never really needed it though, and now at 7 1/2 I've never used shampoo on his hair, or on any of the other children.

Beautiful hair

Kai has got the most beautiful, soft hair, I'd love to have such lovely hair, and I'm sure that it's down to it being shampoo free.  It never looks dirty or greasy, and it does get washed regularly, with water, just not shampoo.  I read that soap actually cleans hair really well, but only if it's not hair that's been washed regularly with shampoo.  If I were to try and use soap on my hair it would go all dry and funny, because I do usually shampoo my hair.  But on the odd occasion that I've actually needed to wash the kids hair with something a bit stronger than water, the soap works fine.

My girls both have lovely curly hair, and I suspect that as they get older I may well need to use something to de-tangle their hair, it can get a bit knotted as it is, but for the time being I'm going to stick with the shampoo free.

Going shampoo free myself

I'd love to be able to cut out shampoo on my own hair, but the problem is that when you use it regularly, it takes quite a while for your hair to get back to managing without it.  I've heard of people cutting it out, and ending up with lovely soft, non-greasy hair, but to get there you have to go through the horrid, greasy, unwashed phase.  I hate the feeling when my hair needs washing though, so although I would love to go shampoo free like the kids, I don't think I can do it.

Poorly sick

So far this winter, we haven't been suffering too much with the old coughs and colds and all everything else that usually does the rounds. Until, that is, about three weeks ago.  The most hedeous cough seems to have set up camp in various family members and is showing no signs of moving on.

Io had thought that we were getting to the end of it, everyone had had it, and all that seemed to be left was one of those annoying tickly coughs that strike just as you're drifting off to sleep, and I was the only one effected by that.  (Well almost, I was probably waking most of the family up too).  Then yesterday, I came back from a party with the girls (my kids have a much busier social life than I do) to find that Mahe just wasn't himself.

I checked his temperature and it was sitting at 39.5, a little too high for my liking.  It depends who you talk to, should you give them something to bring it down or not?  He was quite miserable with it, so I decided a dose of pamol was the best bet.  Unusually though, that did nothing, so a quick borrowed bottle of nuerofen later, and a bit of alternating, and it was finally down.

Of course, having four children, that's never the end of the story, and now big brother Kai also has the high temp and is feeling sorry for himself.  I'm hopeful it won't last long, and that the rest of us don't get it, but I'm not new to this....... Roll on summer and an end to the winter bugs!

Four children

One of the most difficult things about having four children, is getting a photo like this one.  The chances of getting them all looking the same way, all at the same time, is so slim..... apparently it gets easier.  Actually I do have an earlier one that this, when Anja, my youngest, was about six months. It is the only one of the four of them at that age though.

Of course I'm not totally serious, there are plenty of things that are "hard" about having four children.  Affording anything would rank pretty high, and while it might get easier to get pictures of all four of them together, I'm under no illusions that the amount they cost is going to get easier as they get older.  That's not really the point though, you make do and manage on what you can, because, well, that's just what you do. 

When you say to people that you have four children, often the response that you get, is along the likes of wow, how do you manage that, I'm tired enough with just 1/2/3.  The thing is, they often seem to forget that I've been there too, and believe me, I was just as tired with my 1,2 or 3, when that's all I'd got.

There are times when it's tiring, so tiring, looking after small children takes it out of you enough, but if one is sick, and another just wakes up in the night, it isn't long  before you find that you're completely drained.  But, that's not the point either.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that four is easier than a smaller amount, or not completely easier, it's just that some aspects of it are, which helps over all.  You have more idea of what you're doing, and you care less about doing things as they "should" be done, and do them the way that is right for you.

Having four kids is fantastic. I always wanted four, and now that I have them, it's fantastic.  Seeing them play together, interact together, and just become their own little people is so amazing.  Yes it's hard work, yes it's tiring, but much more than anything else, it's so much fun.

Taking photo's though? That's never so easy, and so often the end result is much much more like this:

Breastfeeding in "public"?

This is one of those topics that seems to really get some people hot under the collar.  Should you do it, shouldn't you do it? Who's business is it anyway?  It's not really something that I think about all that often, but just the other day  I found myself pondering the question of when and where was appropriate.

Now I should perhaps just say here, that for the most part I'm a feed the baby when and where they need it, and I'm really not into faffing around with covers or being discrete.  That's not to say that I'm about to get them both out in public and start waving them around in public, but my priority is feeding my baby, and I can't gaurentee that you won't see anything.......

Half the problem is that one half of the debate seems to think that the other is doing what they're doing to be provocative, to make a point, which might sometimes be the case, but often it's just that they need to feed their baby.  Certainly for me, that's the case, although I have waited for people to challenge me or question what I'm doing (and I had my answers ready) but more than anything I had a hungry baby.

Of course, that in itself can be the "problem" which brings me to a couple of evenings ago.  I'd just arrived in Auckland, it was raining, in the way that only Auckland seems capable of, and a wet me and almost as wet little girl were sheltering in the airport shuttle waiting to see if there were any more passengers on the way.  It was late, I was tired, she was tired, so I went for our tried and tested soother, and gave her a feed.  The shuttle driver opened the door to say that we'd give it a few more minutes, saw what I was doing, looked uncomfortable, apologised and left.

Now he didn't ask me to stop, or say anything, but he wasn't comfortable about it either.  Normally I'd think, if I thought anything, Oh well, so what. But I was actually in his car, and making him feel awkward, maybe that's not on?

I guess really, it didn't matter, but perhaps I should have thought, although ideally we'd all just see it as natural and he would have been as unconcerned by my feeding as I was doing it.

What would you have done?

 

The truth about giving birth

If you told me that I had to give birth again, my first reaction would be that I was quite excited and pleased by the idea.  Ask me now, and I'd say without hesitation that I enjoy giving birth, it's fantastic.  It might sound a little crazy, I realise, and not everyone has that reaction, but still, on the whole I love it.

I've had four very different births, which you'll know if you've read my birth stories, but all of them have been good in their own way.  Even the emergency section that I had with Kai had good points, although it did take having Mahe to come to terms with it all totally.  By Anja though, it was really good, I looked forward to it, and the actual experience was good. 

I will admit here though, I do clearly remember a point where I thought, I must be crazy, I looked forward to this??  What on earth was I thinking.  I also did the classic, I can't do this phase, probably mid transition.  But, having said all of that, the euphoric feeling you get when you're baby is here and you've done it, you just can't beat that.  It's not just finally meeting the little person that you've been waiting for for the last nine months (or if we're honest longer, often babies are longed for long before they're conceived).  But you can't beat that huge rush of hormones that comes post birth.

This and a couple of other similar photo's are some of my all time favourite shots.  Not because they're the first pictures of Anja (I realise that you can't really see her in this one anyway) but because they're photo's of those first special minutes.  I didn't get pictures like this of the other three.  With Kai photo's were the last things on our mind, and with the other two my official photographer was too busy in his other (more important role) of Daddy meeting a new baby to take pics at this stage.  With extra midwives on hand this time, there was someone else to take the pictures, and I'll always be glad of that. 

So yes, I love giving birth, but what I really love is the feeling you get when you've done it.  There's no beating that.  And of course that cup of tea, slice of toast and shower that you have just afterwards are the best on earth, if only I could recreate all of those without the labour bit......

You've got HOW many children?!

It's funny, it doesn't matter how many children you've got, other people seem to have set ideas on how many more you should or shouldn't have.  Actually, it starts before you've even got children, if you're in a long term relationship or recently married, then before long the "are you planning on having any kids?" comments start.  You'd think that the moment you had a child of your own though, this pressure to reproduce would stop, but I'm sorry to disappoint, it doesn't go away. 

Shortly after your first is born, the "do you think you'll have any more?" questions start, as though somehow one child is never enough and you should have another.  Then when the second arrives, opinion suddenly seems to split, some people think that you've had your quota and that you'd be mad to have any more, and others that you might have another.  After three, particularly if like me you have by now managed to have at least one of either sex, many people assume that you MUST be done.  Of course, any more than four would be madness.  Not that I'm desperate to have more children, but it does amuse me how the rest of the world has an opinion on the matter.

I should perhaps own up, I've been guilty of it myself.  Having babies is quite an exciting business, and it's always good to know if someone is planning on having more children.  On a more serious note, there are reasons to suggest that perhaps as a society we should have an interest in how many children people have or don't have.  Large families do place more of a strain on the worlds resources, and in the western world we already consume far more than our fair share of them. 

But really, when it comes down to it, it's no one's business but your own how many children you choose to have or not.  Whether you find other people's interest in it annoying or amusing, it really doesn't matter because on the days when it's raining solid, they can't get out to run off some energy and everyone's going a bit stir crazy, it's you who's going to have to deal with them, not your next door neighbour, who thinks it's about time you started a family.....

The curse of the mother in law......

Ahh, Mother in laws, that much attacked group, most people seem to have a love hate (or in some cases just hate) relationship with them.  Actually I really like mine, but of course it's never going to be a perfect meeting of minds.  I know we're all different, and when it comes to raising children there
are lots of different ideas about the right way to do things, but I know that with some things, she thinks my way is the wrong way. It's not as though she openly criticises the fact that I'm still
breastfeeding my toddler, or that my four month old hasn't started solids yet, it's more subtle than that: Little digs in unrelated conversations, suggestions based on what other people do, raised eyebrows in subtle disagreement when I mention my ideas.

With two boys of my own, I've often thought that if and when I'm in that situation, I'll be a little more understanding, a little less likely to judge. But, if I'm really honest about it, will I?  Do I honestly think I'd be the "perfect" mother in law. (Whatever that is!)

You see the problem is that with something as important as raising children, we don't like to think that we've got it wrong. Anyone who's witnessed the fireworks that surround any conversation about
the benefits of breastfeeding versus formula, early weaning or extended rear-facing in the car will tell you that people get very passionate about defending their parenting decisions. Imagine what
it would be like, to have another woman doing things very different to the way that YOU think is right and the way that YOU raised your children bringing up someone as important to you as your grandchild. Even if you both think along the same lines, new guidelines and ideas come out all the time, often suggesting that the old ways weren't a good idea.  No one really wants to accept that
what they did wasn't the absolute best for their child.

So of course I can understand why she might suggest things, and why we don't always see eye to eye, but it doesn't stop her from driving me a little bit crazy every so often....

Tandem feeding troubles

This is the second time I've been a tandem feeder, I fed my now 4 year old with my now 2 1/2 year old for over six months, until my son (the 4 year old) self weaned.  This time round, we're about 4 months in to the tandem feeding, and I can't see my 2 1/2 year old showing any signs of wanting to stop.

In some ways it's nice, I think it helps with the jealousy, and my daughters are showing signs of becoming quite close.  But it's not all good, there are difficulties.  My eldest daughter like's a feed at bedtime, and my youngest is generally in the evening grumps stage, so I have to feed them both at once.  I know that I'm an experienced tandem feeder, but I struggle with actually feeding both at once.  It's much easier and far more comfy to breastfeed one and then the other, and I sometimes feel that by having to share the feed, my older daughter is missing out on the one on one time with me that she used to have.  Having said that, I'm not convinced that she's that bothered.

The other MAJOR downside is illness, we all know that breastfeeding is supposed to help children to resist illness and boost their imune system, but what happens when the older one is ill?  My baby is bound to get it too.  With the odd cough and cold, things haven't been too bad, but last week hand foot and mouth struck.

Not really the kind of thing that I want my four month old coming down with, but by the time the symptoms showed it was probably too late.  It's difficult though, what to do, I don't want to pass these things on to my youngest, but I don't really want to deny her sister the comfort of a feed, especially when she's unwell.....

So, I read around, did a bit of research, and in actual fact tandem feeding was probably the best thing for both of them.  The chances of Anja not coming into contact with her older sisters bugs was pretty slim, especially as we didn't know she had anything.  But by feeding her I'm helping her immune system deal with it, and by feeding my older daughter too I'll be helping her beat the bug.

They both seem to be doing ok now, Lena is all but over it, and Anja has had a few spots on her feet, a slightly grumpy day (which could just as easily have been down to teeth at this age) and nothing else so far.  Touch wood they're both on the mend now.

Welcome little Miss...

From the moment that I knew I was pregnant again, I expected to have a slightly early than due date baby. My first two had been over, (9 and 6 days) admittedly, but my third had arrived 3 days early, so logically this one would be slightly earlier still. Of course I was forgetting one important fact, babies don't generally follow patterns, and really I was foolish to think that mine would. The 6^th of June, (my due date) came and went and still no baby, I'd been quite happy to go over before, but as I really wasn't expecting it this time, I felt really miserable. That night I woke with quite strong contractions, and began to think that maybe this was it. Finally at around 5am, I drifted off, and things had ground to a halt, so now I was miserable, tired and completely over it.

My midwife came round to see me at home, for my weekly visit, and she pointed out that one day late wasn't really “over-due” as such, and I couldn't really complain. We discussed plans for what would happen if there was still no baby in a week, although she had every confidence that things would happen sooner than that. I can't say that I shared her optimism at that point, especially as we had all been saying that, with all the signs I'd had for well over two weeks now.

I went to playcentre as normal, and had a nice sit down with a cup of tea while they took all the kids to see a digger working up the road. I had thought maybe being there might help kick things off, as it was something to keep me busy, but I didn't even have a twinge. I was having a lot more show though, I'd been having bits and bobs for the last two weeks, but suddenly it had upped a gear, and every time I went to the loo I was getting heaps.

Bed time came, and in all honesty I'd had less tightenings and crampy feelings than I'd had in days, so I really wasn't expecting much. Lena woke up at around 1am though, and I went and got in bed with her for a bit, just to settle her. At around 2am, I woke up with quite a strong contraction, and made my way back to bed. I tried to stay there for a while to see what would happen, fully expecting the same as had happened the previous night, but it wasn't long before I felt that I needed to get out of bed to deal with them. By around 5 am, it was clear that things were actually progressing, and that this might really bit it. I got Mike to call his Mum, and gave my midwife a call. She was already at the hospital, and had been up all night with another delivery. Bit of a shame, but never mind.

At around 6.30 I felt a pop inside, and suddenly felt rather wet. I shouted Mike to bring me a towel, and somehow managed to keep any mess off the carpet. I tried to put on some clean pants and my jeans, so that I would be ready to go, but I just couldn't do it. Instead I grabbed another clean towel, and wore that to the hospital instead.

Mike's Mum was still quite a way off our house, and I was beginning to feel that I needed to get to the hospital, so we arranged to meet up with her on route, and swap cars, so that she could drive the kids back home. Mike piled them into the car, and then I got in, trying to get comfy between contractions, easier said than done while travelling in the car. It didn't seem to be long before we were swapping cars, and then pulling up outside the hospital. I must have looked a right sight; lower half wrapped in a towel, slippers on, and just a t-shirt and old cardi on my top half. It was freezing too, but I really didn't care at that point.

When we arrived we were shown to the delivery room, but my midwife was dealing with an emergency with her other delivery. I just lent over some chairs and rocked back and forth with each contraction. As soon as she was able, my midwife came in and checked my progress, I was already at 10 cm, although I was feeling no urge to push yet, there was just a lot of pressure. I continued in the bending over position, first of all over the chairs and then kneeling on the floor, rocking with each contraction, and breathing through it all. As Toni, my midwife had been up all night, she called in another midwife to help her, a student midwife came in to help to begin with, and gave me sips of iced water whenever I felt I needed them, and helped mop my brow. Then Judy the closest midwife from the “team” arrived to help, followed not long after by Nicky, who was supposed to be the back up midwife. So, my very easy, straightforward birth had three midwives and one student midwife in attendance.

After a while I decided I needed to wee, and once I was sitting on the toilet, I just didn't want to move. It was so comfortable, the contractions were even easier to deal with in that position. All of a sudden though, gravity kicked in and I had the uncontrollable urge to push, I'd breathed the baby down as far as I could and now it was time to get things moving. I was helped off the toilet, and back into the delivery room. Unfortunately, moving back into the all fours position meant that the urge to push vanished. After two contractions passed, and I had what felt like long breaks between each one, I still didn't feel the need to push, so I tried sitting back on my heels. Bingo, there it was again, there was a glimpse of the head, but the urge was gone before I got any further. Two more contractions passed with nothing and then it was back, this time the head was right there, but still in no hurry to fully come out. It was quite annoying to feel it slip back again, but one of my (many) midwives said that this was the best way to do it, stretch everything, so there was less chance of tearing. Two more contractions, and then we were on again, and the head was out. Mike was in position to catch the baby, who had the cord looped around the neck, and then with one more contraction and push she was out. Mike caught her, and then handed her though my legs so I could hold her against my chest. She had lots of black hair, and I couldn't believe that I had another little girl.

I was helped onto the bed, and was soon feeding like a pro, while I delivered the placenta. We waited until it had stopped pulsing, before Mike cut the cord, and then I delivered it ten minutes or so later, without the injection. I was checked out, and apart from a little scratch or two, was all intact, so the stretching must have helped. Apparently my perineum looks as though I've never had kids!

All that was left was to have the best tea and toast I've ever had, the best shower I've ever had, and to weigh my lovely little lady. Who was a little bigger than her sister and one of her brothers had been, at a healthy 8lb 8oz. So there you have it, baby number four, and my best birth to date.

Random thoughts about time....

Well my little lady is already pushing six months, I'm not sure quite how or when that happened.  It all goes so fast.  The funny thing is, quite often I find myself thinking that I wish that Kai and Mahe weren't so old already, I miss them being babies.  Mahe was two last week, and Kai was four.  But if one of them was still a baby, then I wouldn't have Lena, and I wouldn't want that.  I wouldn't want all of them to be small at the same time either, people think I'm mad enough having three under five.  (It was three under four.)

I suppose I'm happy with it all really, and there's always part of me waiting for the next stage, seeing the new things that they learn, but at the same time, I really don't want them to get older, just keep them small forever.  Can I have them little and old all at once please?