advice.

Okay, first of all, and completely off topic- she SLEEPS!! Mahalia slept from 9:30ish until 3AM last night. And then after a quick nappy change and a feed, went back to sleep until 7am. Unfortunately for me, my Levi-pie is going through a huge developmental spurt which is affecting his sleep. And he also woke up at 3am. Shan tried his best, but Levi needed his Mummy. So I was up with Levi until 4:30am. But, even so, I had more sleep than I've had in weeks. Ohhhh, I forgot how nice sleep was.

Anyway. This morning I got an email from a pregnant friend, asking me about the cloth nappies I use (GreenKids. They're great). Further down the email, she asked if I had any advice for her. I wrote a reply, words spilling out about bamboo inserts and flushable liners and washing powder. But my hands hovered over the keys to find the right piece of advice. I had so many springing to mind, but I didnt want to overwhelm her. I thought...

*Get information about birth. Get empowered about it. Know what your options are. The more you know, the better. You haven't failed some sort of test if you use drugs- but you dont have to, either.

*You cant spoil a baby. They cant manipulate you (yes, someone seriously told me that I had to do CC with my 12-day-old-Levi-pie or he'd learn to 'control' me. Awooga, wackjob alert).

*Everything is new to them, everything is strange and unfamiliar. They dont know what it's like to feel hungry, or tired, or feel clothing on their skin. All they know is you, the sound of your voice, the sound of your heartbeat, being cuddled into you. I spent the first night in hospital (and many subsequent nights at home after that) with both of my babies, curled up on my chest, listening to my heartbeat. There's plenty of time for them to learn that a cot is where they 'should' sleep.

*You'll feel like you dont know what you're doing. That's normal. You've never done it before. Luckily for you, they've never done it before, either, so you learn together. They really wont remember the time you bumped their head putting them into the carseat. They wont remember the time you cried in the carpark at the supermarket the first time you tried to unfold the pram. You will, though.

*I've both cloth-bummed and used disposables (even now, we still do a mixture of both). Formula-fed and breastfed. Co-slept and had my babies in their own beds, in their own rooms. Done baby-led-solids and fed goo from a spoon (we were out, it was early days, and I was desperate). Used a dummy, and not used a dummy. The point is this. It's not about what people tell you you 'should' do. You're not going to get a yearly membership to the Bad Mother Club if you use formula (although the way some people bang on about it, you'd think a can of Coke was a better option). Your child isn't still going to need to be rocked to sleep when they're 10, just because you do it now. Trust your instincts. You know yourself, you know your baby, and you know what feels 'right' to you. However, if your instincts suggest giving your baby a nip of rum to help them sleep you might want to reconsider the previous advice.

*Get a sling. Get a good sling. You'll love it so much you'll want to marry it, if that were an option. I love my ring sling.

*Make and freeze meals NOW. Get obliging visitors to bring you fresh fruit, milk, bread, and even that night's dinner. Buy poppers and muesli bars and packets of crackers and things you can eat with one hand.

*Grab a pack of terry flats (old school cloth nappies). Even if they'll never touch a bottom, you'll use them a hundred times over.

*Dont buy any baby stuff until I've offloaded some of mine onto you (haha).

*Get your rocking chair out of the nursery and put it near the television. The nights seem much less miserable when you can watch crappy infomercials.

In the end, what I wrote to her was (paraphrased)- Everyone will have an opinion about what you 'should' be doing. Forget about them. Trust yourself. Listen to your baby.

And speaking of listening to your baby, I can hear one of mine...

if it were me...

I've been trying for a little while now, to find the words to sum up my parenting philosohpy. And, finally, I've realised, it's If It Were Me, aka The Golden Rule. No, really, think about it.

You're eating dinner and accidentally spill your glass everywhere. If it were me, I'd much prefer the people I loved to calmly help me clean it up, rather than getting angry and making me feel humiliated. So, with that in mind, if I were a child...

I'd like to eat when I was hungry- and be allowed to eat for as long as I wanted. I'd like to have a decent variety of healthy food, with occasional treats, and be able to choose how much, and of what, I'd like to eat from my plate. I'd like the people around me to be talking to me as I ate, and sharing meals with them, rather than being watched to see how much I'm eating. I wouldn't make an adult sit there until they'd eaten their peas, and I dont plan on doing it to a child.

I'd like to be given choices, wherever I could, so that I could decide if I wanted to walk or sit in the trolley. I'd like to be given reasonable explanations why I cant do things- and not have things snatched out of my hands (safety issues excepted). I'd hate it if Shan snatched the remote off me, or a book...so I dont want to do it to my child. I'd like to have safe spaces to explore, without people hovering around me. I'd like to be given the time to work things out for myself, rather than have someone do it for me while I'm still figuring it out. I'd like to have those proud, "I did it all by myself" moments. But I'd like people to notice when I want help, too.

Sometimes, even at 24, I have trouble going to sleep. I'm not tired. Or my brain is still racing. And I want extra time, extra attention, extra affection from Shan. So it's really, horrendously unfair to expect a 1year old, to be able to do it alone every night.

I'd like my days to have a familiar pattern, so I know what to expect. I'd like to be told if we're going somewhere, not just being plonked in the car without a word. Really, if someone picked me up and put me in the car without a word as to why, I'd be seriously unhappy about it. I'd like to be given warnings, before I had to stop doing something- especially if it was something I really enjoyed doing.

I'd like to be gently taught about the things that I need to know. I'd like simple, straightforward explanations- without being spoken to in a patronizing manner.

I'd like to learn that humans get angry, and sad, and sometimes cry and sometimes lose their tempers. And I'd also like to learn that a genuine, "I'm sorry", is what someone says after they've been cross with you. I'd like to learn that it feels good to do things for other people, too. And that sometimes you have to wait, and sometimes you dont get things you want. And that being angry or sad is okay. I'd like my fears not to be dismissed, even if they seem silly.

I'd like to learn all about my body, and that the word 'penis' is no different from 'elbow'. That I can ALWAYS say, "Please stop that. I dont like it" to ANYBODY, and that it's perfectly okay to tell people they're not allowed to touch you. But that giving cuddles to the people you love makes them smile, and being tickled makes everyone giggle.

I'd like to feel valued. That I was no less important than the bigger, older, stronger people in my life. That what I thought and what I had to say mattered. I'd like people to spend time with me, because they want to, not because they have to (and believe me, they know the difference). I'd like to be kissed and cuddled and tickled and held. To have my favourite stories read, again and again, and have my favourite foods made, just because. And I'd like to learn how to do that for other people, too.

And I'd like to go to sleep every night, knowing that I was very much loved, and very much wanted.

more about my marli-doll

So I've told you Marli doesn't sleep. And she likes to feed a lot. But there's more than that...

She loves the colour RED, and anything red. Especially her Lamaze fairy (affectionately termed her fairybug) with red hair.

If a baby can yell at you, she sure yelled at me this morning. Because I said we'd be buying Levi a pair of new shoes. She stopped, in the middle of a feed, and made all sorts of annoyed noises at me. "Oh, sorry, Marli, you want new shoes too?" "Eeeeeeeeeaaaaahhh." (By the way, if anyone spots a pair of red sequinned shoes in Target, smaller than a size 5, let me know.)

She smiles at the words "pretty dresses" and "gold bangles", and loves having her hair brushed. She also loves gabbling away to herself in the mirror before her bath. She 'talks' away while I reading stories, getting awfully excited. It's so loud Levi shoots her these annoyed little glances

Marli loves being tickled. But only I can make her giggle, and it's the sweetest sound. She tolerates Levi (who likes poking her bellybutton), and likes her Daddy...but she's very, very much a Mummy's girl.

She doesnt, in any way, think she's a baby. She HATES lying back in your arms, hated the newborn attachment of the pram, and wants whatever you've got. She's very, very determined and cries when you stop her from eating the junk mail.

She loves her little thumbie, and her Tilly doll. She's also quite fond of playing with my gold bangle. Mum has promised Marli one of her own. She loves being sung to. Loves the books 'Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes' by Mem Fox, and ohh...the one about the cat by Lynley Dodd (the Hairy McLairy etc author). Oh! 'Slinky Malinky'.

. She's got a birthmark on her left foot, and the same colour hair as me. She's got beautifully long fingers and loves smiling with her thumb in one corner of her mouth, absurdly pleased with herself for having captured her thumb.

I'm already beginning to see, that for every bit my little lad is easy-going, and placid, Mahalia is stubborn and determined and well, a tad dramatic. The shriek she does when you take away the catalouge she's eating is astounding. But she's absolutely perfect, and absolutely lovely, just the way that she is.

levi and his shoes.

This afternoon, Levi and I went back to return the shoes I'd bought without realising they had skulls and crossbones on them. Mum had come over while Marli slept (and, I later learnt, was tidying my house. Thanks Mum).

So Levi and I stood in the baby shoe section of Target. And I said, probably a little louder than I intended, "you can pick ANY pair of shoes you want, possum." Yes, I do know he's 15 months old, but when he likes things, he wants to pick them up, so I figured that would be obvious enough.

We walked around all the shoes, slowly and carefully. He stopped at the pink, sequined ones, and touched them, gently. "You can pick ANY pair of shoes you like, sweetheart." An old lady walked past and gave me a look.

We looked at brown sandals. We looked at purple sparkly ones. We looked at all of the shoes. And eventually he chose a pair, we exchanged them, and bought some finger buns for afternoon tea as a treat before going home.

While we were tucking into the finger buns, Shan came home. And I said, half-teasingly, having mentioned the sequinned shoes to him earlier that day, "I let Levi pick out whatever pair of shoes he wanted, today."

Shan went to investigate the shoes, as I gestured towards the bench. There, in their box, were a pair of....

White baby Volleys with a little blue around the edges.

Diplomatic choice, Levi-pie.

tuesday's toddler food.

Okay, so it's not Tuesday, but this really is what we ate on Tuesday, and I'm catching up. So, the stuff on the little plate is exactly the same as on the big plate. Down the bottom (of the big plate, it's all spread out on Levi's plate so it cools down enough not to burn his mouth), are steamed green beans and corn 'tyres'. Levi absolutely loves corn on the cob, and has no problems at all munching into it- though I make sure to give him pieces he cant fit in his mouth.

On the top left, is a very, very easy side Mum used to make- simply gnocchi, cooked according to the packet directions, topped with grated cheese, and popped in an oven. You can grill it for 5 or so minutes, but I already had the oven on for the broccoli nuggets, so it just went in at the same time. Levi loves gnocchi and cheese so it's right up his alley, and it takes no time at all, so I like it too.

The things that look like off meatballs are actually broccoli nuggets. I dont measure anything, but we'll see how I go giving quantities. Use either 1 broccoli head, cut into florets, or 1 bag of frozen broccoli. Boil that until it's really tender, then chop it up as finely as you can without sending yourself insane. Add to that, oh, 3/4 cup of breadcrumbs and 2 handfuls of grated cheese. Smush it all together with your hands- you're after the same kind of consistency as if you were making meatballs, if that helps. Roll it into balls, flatten them a little (so they look like nuggets, of course), and then onto a tray lined with baking paper. Into a 180degree oven (fan forced), turn them over after 15 minutes. After 25 minutes (total) they'll be done, but check after 20. It'll make a heap....but here's the thing.

Not only does Levi love them and will eat 6, Shan loves them and could easily eat them all. And whatever's not eaten can be frozen, for later.

And speaking of Levi, he's awake.

my morning.

It's been a long morning here.

First off, Mahalia made so much noise at 4am when she woke, that Levi woke up too. She went back to sleep. He didn't. (Neither did Shan, who was trying to convince Levi to go to sleep).

After we said 'bye Dad', we started getting ready to go to the play centre to play with the cousins, we do it every week. While I was feeding Mahalia, I explained that today, as well as the 'play place', we were going to buy Levi a pair of new shoes. Marli stopped feeding, looked up at me, and made a very loud, annoyed little noise. "Oh, do you want new shoes, too?" "Eeeeahhhhhh". "Oh, is that right?" "eeeeeaaaaaaaahhhh".

After she'd finished telling me off, she finished the feed. I put her on Wilson (bear-shaped rug), put Levi's shoes on, and went hunting for the lid to his sippy cup. Three seconds later, there's a scream- Levi had climbed over Marli in pursuit of his truck, and scratched up her face with his shoes. She was so upset she did that taking-in-a-really-big-breath-before-I-cry thing, and then let loose. Poor little doll.

When she was all kissed better, we headed off. At the shops, I contemplated buying Levi a pair of sparkly, sequined, silver shoes that I knew he'd love. Who wouldn't? But I ended up caving into the "those are girls shoes" voice trilling in my brain, and he got a pair of navy sandals. That are going back because I just realised they've got orange skull and crossbones on them as decoration.

At the play centre, all was going well. And then, a little boy, but not as little as Levi, was pushing a car along (the kind you sit in and use your feet to move) and not looking where he was going. I just happened to not be looking at Levi. And there was an almighty bang, and lots of tears. The poor little possum has a black eye.

After he'd been kissed better and had some cuddles, he went back to playing for a while. Then, stood at the entrance, and signed, "finished." So we packed up and came home. And I was going to tell you they're both asleep, but I can hear Levi stirring....

Operation Sleep.

So, Operation Cot has become Operation Sleep, though she's still very much in her cot for most of the night. Last night was night 15 that I haven't slept more than 40 minutes in a row. 15. Count em.

This morning, Shan and I pieced together a conversation we'd had last night, when he came to bed- I'd already been there for about half an hour.

Shan: JD, can you turn off the light? [Touch lamp on my side].
Me: I cant turn off the oven, the cupcakes aren't done.
Shan: What cupcakes?
Me: I'm making cupcakes, remember, and I'm not wasting a batch by turning them off now.
Shan: Honey....the oven isn't on. You're in bed.
Me: Yes, I know they'll be sweet, okay? Can you just let me finish sleeping first?

Yes, people, the sleep deprivation has gotten to my brain. While it seems hilarious, and that conversation certainly was, at least this morning, truthfully, I'm kind of at a loss. It's really, really hard to function on this level of sleep. Especially when I have to run around after Mr Levi-pie as well. It's hard, also, to find that patient, joyful parenting groove when you're so tired you can barely think. Levi's watched more television in the past week than he has his entire life, and I'm more grumpy and less patient than I'd like to be.

This morning, I even put her in her cot and vacuumed, hoping she'd just go to sleep. Nope. Nopity, nopity, nope. I cannot, will not, let her cry. But my bumbling attempts at a solution dont seem to be working either.

Come to think of it, she's always woken every 40minutes after her first wake. Just that first wake used to be at 1-2am, and Shan takes over at 5:30ish, so it really wasn't that bad. Now the first wake is as early as 9:30. Why does she do it? I'm clueless.

I daresay it's got something to do with her being almost-but-not-quite ready for solids. Maybe she only feeds enough (at night) that she's content to go back to sleep, without really being 'properly' full? Am currently trying to decide whether a jar of goo during the day is better or worse than a top-up of formula after a breastfeed at night. Maybe she's teething. Maybe she's lonely. Maybe her blankets itch.

All I know is that it's 8:30. And if I do my teeth and go to bed right now, I might just get a whole hour's sleep. All at the one time. Told you the sleep deprivation had affected my brain.