Double bumpin’

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Vicki

From the creators of this irresistible cuteness:

and this:

Comes a new lovable production of double trouble.

See in production sneak peak pictures here first:

Megumi: 26 weeks pregnant and me, 28 weeks

Grandchildren come into this family in two’s. Megumi and I are sisters by marriage. We married 2 brothers. We had our first babies within 4 months of each other and now we return to the preggie state again, together, with just a mere 2 weeks apart.

Our pregnancies are both healthy and yet different. Megumi is a typical preggie who endured nauseating morning sickness for the first trimester, she gets back ache, uncomfortable Braxton Hicks and then there’s me, who with a bit guilt says this – gets none of it. There are days when I have been envious of her Braxton Hicks… I mean, what do they really feel like? And moments that I wished I could just take a days worth of morning sickness to ease the burden even if just momentarily for her.

In Japan, Megumi’s home country, a woman is expected to only gain up to 5 kg’s during her entire pregnancy. I know, I know… crazzzzzy hey? Megumi at times wishes she could keep to that strict norm. I, on the other hand eat 5 kg’s of chocolate a night and replicate a motto a little like get fat and get beautiful during pregnancy. I’m not always a good influence.

It’s special bringing new additions into a family together. We regularly check in with one another. Talk symptoms, birth, parenting conundrums. We became Mothers together. We empathise together. We learn together.

Little Vick and his cousin learn together too. They have a special bond. They’re so close, in age and in heart and now they will face the challenges of welcoming a new sibling together. Siblings who I hope will be bonded just as the first pair are in time to come.

So now, we are taking bets about who will have their baby first! Little Vick put his feet up and stayed put (he arrived 2 weeks late after being induced) and Megumi who had a BIG baby first time round may need to be brought on early…so who knows who’ll get to meet their babe first :) We often joke we could be in the birthing suite together. Yes, that would be a bit freaky.

Here is our latest & probably final preggie bump shot together:

So who’s your money on?

Today I am linking up with Essentially Jess via the #IBOT linky party

The Knocked Up Wrap Up: FULL TERM (Eeeppp!)

Posted on May 20, 2013 by Vicki

How Knocked Up: 37 weeks. Full term technically (baby would be happy and competent if it decided to launch).

A Knocked Up Thought: I can’t help but hear the 1980′s hit “The final Countdown” do do do doo, do do do do dooo in my head. You hearing it too? Although I suspect it is probably a couple of weeks premature, but hey, stranger things have happened right? There is definitely a building sense of excitement in our household. It’s nice. There’s nothing ordinary about our existence at the moment. There’s a sense of anticipation, a building climax. There’s preparations. It’s pushed Mr Vick and I into talking about stuff. The denial about the imminent change is being forced to unveil a little. We’re talking about what we would have carefully considered and contemplated months ago with my pregnancy with Little Vick. Things like birth preferences, a carer for Little Vick during birth, what life is going to be like…. ya know, pretty important kinda stuff. We’ve been feeling super cool and relaxed, which I think isn’t a bad thing.

The nursery is in development. Finally. Mr Vick reluctantly gave up his man cave for this bubba in belly and I’m now trying to find homes for things that once occupied our spare room/Mr Vick’s man cave. It’s fair to say it doesn’t yet look too much like a nursery but it feels like a space for the baby and that is keeping my nesting preggie contented (and quiet). I’ve started the wash up of teeny tiny clothing and I was delighted to see such mini me things on our clothes line once again. I’ve even packed up my hospital bag. In honour of this I had to stock up on some things that I haven’t seen for nearly 3 years. I can’t say I was that stoked to be perusing the breast pad section once again. Sigh.

Also I’ve noted how I am an elderly ladies best friend suddenly. For the most part they haven’t wanted to know me until now. Now that I am the goddess of fertility and it’s all out on show I’m like a magnet to the old. You can guarantee our conversations go a little like this: you musn’t have long now? No, just a couple of weeks. Is it your first? No, I’ve got another another. Boy or girl? Boy How old? 2 and a half Oh well…. you’re going to have your hands full then aren’t you?! Their warmth and obvious sentimentality for this time in their life is endearing. I do like the old ladies. It reminds me what a special time in my life this is.

A Knocked Up Feeling: Oh don’t worry my mental state is rock solid. Kinda. Picture this. Me hitting a curb whilst parking the car, and bursting into tears ’cos Mr Vick gave me the slightest (and I really do mean slightest) WTF kinda looks. Complete emotional break down was had on my behalf and Mr Vick did not even say a single word to cause it. So we sat in the car, me sobbing, Mr Vick looking desperately concerned and perplexed about what he’d done to cause such a catastrophe. It passed and we got on with it. Nothing more was said about it.

The Knocked Up Physical: I have gotten to the point where I can’t remember what it’s like to not be knocked up. To just have my body to myself. To not share it. To not look and feel like Humpty Dumpty. To not be restricted bending over, getting up, seeing my lady bits even. I am looking forward to the relief that will be brought about after getting Baby Vick vacated and once again having ownership and perhaps it’s not too far away???? A visit to the midwife nearly 2 weeks ago informed me that Baby Vick’s head has started to engage in the pelvis. Woot! This got me excited (Little Vick was induced 13 days late) about the possibility of a naturally occurring labour. Apparently the baby is almost half way engaged which could mean something or nothing for my imminent labour.

I’m happy to report that some of the physical bothers noted in my last wrap up post have let up a bit making me actually well and without complaint. I know. That shouldn’t happen. Isn’t it supposed to be getting worse for me at this point? No self induced back ache from over eating, no mad weeing dashes to the loo during the black of night, no puffiness, no lack of space for food consumption. All smooth sailing. It’s true. One of my talents is pregnancy.

Knocked Up Foodie: I somehow have convinced myself that Cadbury Snack chocolate should be a daily addition in my diet.

The Babe in the Knocked Up Belly: There is a mighty fine circus performance going in there pretty much full time every day.

Favourite Preggie Moment: We have the nappies ready to go. The newborn, itty bitty, unbelievably mini nappies that seem way too small to fit any little toosh into. I opened up the box with Little Vick and we both were overwhelmed with goo’s and gah’s at how unbelievable adorable they are. Little Vick too had a moment of realisation about just how small his sibling is to be. It was a lovely moment shared.

Knocked Up Bump Watch:

Here’s the heifer lump… looking all round in her glory…

Wordless Wednesday: A Country Life

Posted on May 14, 2013 by Vicki

We ventured down to Pomboneit earlier in the week to stay with my parentals (don’t bother asking where that is – it’s nowhere). They live in a beaten up, dry as a desert, farm existence which they’re gradually transforming into their retirement dream. It’s a true country experience. Little Vick has country running in his veins, despite his suburbian roots and I couldn’t help but singing moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches... for our entire visit.

I just can’t get enough of that little carrot eating face! Happy Wednesday

The Reality: The 12 Things I Now Know About Becoming a Mummy!

Posted on May 13, 2013 by Vicki

I’m no pushing veteran but I’ve learn’t a thing or two after birthing and becoming a new Mum. You only need to do it once for your entire reality and perspective to alter like a whole universe worth. I think I’ve summed how it all changed for me right here:

1. I won’t be so mortified when I have to lift my breast feeding knockers and throw them up over my shoulder to dry underneath them after a swim or shower.

2. I will never be deluded enough again to think pushing a baby out is as easy as just breathing down the birth canal. How about my blood shot eye balls nearly blowing completely out? Thanks soooo much for that misconception Hypnobirthing book.

3. I definitely won’t be boasting about how a new baby won’t stop me from going camping to fellow parents who know too well that it’s never going to happen and I’m exhibiting the voice of complete ignorance displayed only by a first time preggie (it took us 20 months to get our campee back on with a toddler in tow). Embarrassment plus in hindsight.

4. I concede, I won’t attempt to go to yoga with Hello Dolly Parton breastfeeding knockers without wearing a bra. Some things will just never return to the way they were. Period.

5. I won’t get excited when I feel an endearing little flutter and be deluded enough to think it might just be a contraction. Be damned it is. I will D.E.F.I.N.I.T.L.Y know when the time has arrived. No woman, not even Wonderwoman can mistake the big moment when it finally revs up.

6. I won’t be taking Baby Vick to his/her first professional music theatre show at just 8 days old with sleep deprived, dazed, over protective parents who ultimately will start an argument with the usher and I’ll end up blubbering through the entire show in the back row. Why did we think we could still live as we did?

7. I wont be shocked when midwives moments after that momentous thing called birth, clasp their paws all over my nip nips and start squeezing away without hesitation or permission. Was I not traumatised enough? Breasts are public property post birth and privacy departs in the moment of that first contraction. Deal with it.

8. I now know why I got so many face washers at my baby shower. Those poop wiping, vomit scooping accessories are the bees knees. I will never under value the mere, humble face washer ever again.

9. I wont think little wee leakages are reserved for the over 65′s. Doing Kegel exercises once a month will not be enough to maintain my bladder and muscles youth. Pregnancy no. 2 is certainly proof of this.

10. I will not be surprised when Ural becomes my best friend. Those who have already had babies vaginally will know what I’m talking about here and if you haven’t, then you’ll see. Or rather feel.

11. I will not fall into the trap of believing any pregnancy compliments in the form of oh you’re all baby. Let me tell you I did not give birth to an 18 kg baby. What those people who are giving momentarily ego boosting compliments don’t tell you is that it’s going to take the next 18 years to shed every bit of those 18kg’s.

12. During labour no one should be surprised when I feck off Hypnobirthing mantras and start shouting things like forget an epidural, just give me a cesarean! (of which I got neither)

What things did you learn by the second time round??

Today I’m linking up with Essentially Jess for the #IBOT Linky Party!

Just Breathe

Posted on May 6, 2013 by Vicki

I’m so glad to have you back Mr Vick keeps telling me. It is said with such relief and yet I keep thinking haven’t I been standing beside you all along? Where exactly have I been?

The idea of being somewhere and not actually present, that seems to be what this is about.

How long have I been missing in action? Was it preparing with tunnel vision for our wedding that made me absent? Did I mentally and emotionally clear out upon Little Vick’s birth almost 20 months ago? It’s got me wondering.

I see the importance of just being. Of standing completely still. Even just for a little while although it’s a concept I’m at large uncomfortable with. Momentum and project goals have always been apart of my life so much so it just feels like my natural make up and course of action. But that is where Mr Vick is good for me because he reminds me such projects can only be successful if you take the time to be still for a bit. To touch in as we refer to it and I don’t mean some kind of couple touchy feely kinda thing. I’m always in trouble for not really succeeding at it. Fake touching in…. where it would appear I am taking time to reboot and connect with my family, only to be secretly doing something else at the same time. But isn’t that the art of being human? A woman? A mother if nothing else?

Right now I have no reason to be working towards anything. No pressing projects. I simply have to just be. Breathe and only breathe. To connect into the roots of my family. Make it ALL about them. Nothing can make Mr Vick more happy than me sitting on the couch with him for an afternoon or evening eating a naughty treat and sharing a DVD together. Nothing is better for him (well maybe one other thing….). So I am giving in and complying, I think. It’s called quality time I’ve heard. It doesn’t hurt actually. Just stopping and giving in and allowing myself to breathe in the simplicities. I remember how I used to dig it when I was child free. It was my way of life. It was all leisurely indulgence. How did I get so pre-occupied with motherhood that I forgot about how to do nothing? To think I thought I was going to have so much time to watch TV when I was going to become a mother. Such a thought could only be had by a first time, deluded, pregnant woman.

And whilst I don’t think I ever stopped, I am taking particular care in noticing my beautiful boy and all his charming and sweet qualities. I see how endearing and affectionate he is growing, how he dislikes mess on his hands, how he would kill to get into the garage and beat the drums to match that of his racing heart beat. I am noticing how hard my husband tries to say the right things, to be positive when I’m a complete grouch, to do everything in order to make his 2 favourites content. What beauties I’ve got right beside me. How could I have left them?

So for now my job is to just breathe. To breathe and open my eyes and take it all in. Simple as that.

*Picture Source*

Wordless Wednesday: Pretty Things

Posted on April 30, 2013 by Vicki

A birthday means pretty things. Hopefully. If your friends and hubby get it right. Fortunately mine generally do. Definitely this year so I thought I’d share a sneak peak at some new treasures that are taking up residence at my house post Birthday.

This is acutely a poster for Baby Vick’s wall. A sneaky purchase whilst making another birthday purchase courtesy of Mr Vick’s wallet. How uber cute is it?

I was super delighted to be given this book as I follow Kelly’s blog The Crafty Crow. Check it out for the most super ideas about getting your DIY on with the kids.

I like colourful balls especially those that hang around my neck!

And my most favourite thing ever:

My Ducks. My babies. I have longed for flying ducks for some time and now they’re all mine and soon to be on my wall where I will admire them long time.

Have a good Wednesday!

Birthday Whatevers

Posted on April 30, 2013 by Vicki

Yesterday I had a bit of a birthday. I was 29 on the 29th. A golden birthday or something like that, so I was told. It seemed like a once in a lifetime kinda thing anyway but what birthdays aren’t?

I had been feeling so non plussed about it. I mean birthdays, they happen and happen again. More quickly than hoped sometimes. I am totally into birthdays. I am the one who makes sure something rad is happening for everyone elses and an awesome present is provided in awesome wrapping paper and all the trims etc etc Generally I relish the attention of my birthday. This year I wasn’t quite my usual enthusiastic self and it’s really got nothing to do with the fact that next year is the big 30. It doesn’t scare me but I was so BLERRRRGGGG…. for some reason.

Probably didn’t help that yesterday morning I woke up with the biggest dose of pregnancy Thrush one could have. I would have happily swiped my whole poonarni right off. It was baaadddd…. and there’s nothing better to induce a serious dose of the grumps. Mr Vick had a tough morning to try and convince me that it was going to be a happy birthday.

We went shopping. I wanted stuff. Stuff I wanted to choose so like a good husband Mr Vick took me, agreed the items were nice and just handed over his credit card without complaint. Needless to say, I’m happy with how my husband training is going so far. So I bought pretty stuff. That helped my morale I’ll admit.

Then, we were walking passed a cafe and my besties heads happened to pop up in the window. They’d driven quite some distance just to say the words Happy Birthday! The day was improving!

We ate. Decently.

The day ended with less itchy and scratchy and more contentedness. My visitors and the effort Mr Vick had obviously gone to organise it all put a little glow in my heart AND I bought new plants for my veggie patch. There’s something healing about buying green things isn’t there?

I realise that last paragraph was a little random so I’m signing out and saying…. Goodnight!

The Knocked Up Wrap Up: 34 Weeks

Posted on April 25, 2013 by Vicki

*WARNING: This contains vaginal references. Vaginal mutation references even (yes, be scared)*

How Knocked Up: 34 Weeks

A Knocked Up Thought: So I said Hasta La Vista to my 2nd Trimester in my last post and have found myself here. Final trimester. You know you’re in the 3^rd trimester when you suddenly develop old age. I kid you not I’m becoming frail at the rate of Benjamin Button in reverse. I mean don’t get me wrong I’m still good at this gig. I’m fairly smug about that. I don’t get half the problems the average preggie gets, so this shouldn’t be seen as an official complaint. However it does mean that if I’m running late, say for the theatre, I shouldn’t preggie sprint 3 blocks to get there on time. ‘Cos I gotta whole lotta weight on top of my pelvis which is gonna cause havoc. It would be like sprinting with a 10kg weights bar resting on your abs and you would never consider doing it right? Noooooo….. Let’s just say things wern’t the same for a little bit there after that. When I rolled out of bed the next morning I nearly collapsed because it felt like I had 36 elephants dragging down on my vjay-jay. I hobbled, kinda, in the way only a woman with a sore poonani does for the next 24 hours and ever since I have had some pressure feeling down there that I don’t particularly appreciate.

A Knocked Up Feeling: There’s always lots of feelings when you’re pregnant. Too many really. They can get a bit overwhelming. For example the other day I just burst into tears because there was no milk left for my cereal. Pathetic clearly. Generally I’m not always a loony. Although I did catch myself thinking this morning, whilst buttering some bread, that I needed to fill a vase up. So what did I do? I found myself putting my knife under some running water… ?!?! Clearly 2 thoughts at once is a hopeless case. Placenta brain totally in force here.

Knocked Up Physical Bits: Whilst I’m winging about the physical, I might as well get
this off my chest too. Varicose veins. Yep. Down there. I know, if you’ve not been pregnant before or had them, then you’re probably having the same reaction I had too. WTF? You can get them down there???? I’ve started calling it my mutation. My oh so not very sexy vaginal mutation. It does wonders for the morale.

I have heard not a breath about such mutations from anyone else before. It seems to be an unspoken symptom, so I’m saying it. Putting it out there. Be warned, get knocked up, you might get a vaginal mutation. I’m telling you it’s what goes on (sometimes). Apparently, according to Google, it’s very common for second pregnancies and often occurs around the 26 week mark and I’m like a walking text book or Google site anyway ‘cos you guessed it I suddenly developed such veins at 26 weeks. Second baby and my vjay jay if not already severely altered from round one is clearly never going to be the same. Its giving itself a make over and I don’t likey. It’s a real conversation starter too – *note sarcasm to the max*. I was particularly shy and coy with the prospect of getting my mutation out for the spunky doctor named Hugo the other day. Of course it had to be a he, and a spunky he at that. He admitted that he was not a vaginal varicose vein specialist. I figured. His best piece of advice was if they burst, best come back and see him.

Knocked Up Foodie: I don’t think what I have written for this section has changed for the entire pregnancy. Each time I say, food is good. All food is good. I remain constant about this. Although I have a bit a of crush on fried mushrooms in garlic and olive oil. So scrummy.

The Babe in the Knocked Up Belly: Happy chappy it seems. Very delighted with lots of things judging my the high kicks and somersaults that’s been fully executed. Likes the odd rough and tumble with his Daddy who insists on poking into my belly for a reaction. I then only feel like jabbing his Daddy in the balls.

Favourite Knocked Up Moment: I do love how my Little Vick fits so nicely over my bump when I lift him up for snuggles. These days are limited at this point so I’m relishing them. I just love how his legs split either side over my bump so perfectly and we are all together in one little embrace. Yeah, that’s pretty neat and I never realised how much a weight lifting champion I would become.

I also have become amused by the fact that wherever I go now I am a real traffic stopper. Quite literally. Cars see me coming and clearly decide they would come off second best if they tried to take my heifer-lumpness on so they politely stop to let me cross. I will be making full use of this right till the end despite the statement it is making about my growing whale status.

Knocked Up Belly Shot:

Look at these knockers?!?! Definitely getting ready for some Mummy feeding action.

Oh hello Metalicus… you know you’re the only thing I can wear now with your extra bit of stretch. I love the excuse.

So… let the final count down begin!

The Cutting

Posted on April 23, 2013 by Vicki

Collecting Cuttlefish, talking about how to find the suspected shipwreck in it’s sands, skinny dipping in it’s icy waters on the most wild and woolly winters day there ever was, watching nieces in their childhood play in the sand and be washed over by the waves, running up and down the steep dunes, a mischievous drunken night of camping with great friends, our beloved mutt Dodger eye balling us so hard that in empathy we would throw him a tennis ball - which he always knew we’d do eventually, being petrified of the ferocious clutches of the waves except for on one uncharacteristic summers days when the water was warm, serenely inviting and we swam blissfully, walks with the in laws both during happier and harder times, discovering a small tiger snake in the sand dunes, playing sumo wrestling tournaments in the sand, squatting bare bottomed for a piddle only to be sprung by horse riders going passed….all of these things are what this place means to me.

It’s hard to explain this place. It’s called The Cutting. A wild, invigorating beach situated between Warrnambool and Port Fairy in the Western district of Victoria. It’s one of those places that always looks different every single time you visit. It has many different facades, shades and persona’s. It is it’s own living, breathing, evolving form.

I once had thought Mr Vick and I would get married on that beach. In my girlish daydreams I imagined arriving on a horse.

It is relatively unknown but it has always been our little beach close to Mr Vick’s home town of Koroit. It was a place we visited frequently. To stew, to canoodle, to refresh, to reflect. There’s always reflection there. Yesterday when we returned was no exception.

All of the memories weighed heavy in my heart. The instant I stepped onto the sand and my hair tangled about my face helplessly, I was taken back to past times. I was somewhat sad that those times have passed, sad that chapter has finished knowing that friends and family have come and gone in our lives and we can no longer share it with them. There’s a sense of being at home there and yet it feels a little emptier than once before.

I feel my late mother in laws spirit there so strongly. She is not at the cemetery where we farewelled her body, she is at the Cutting. I watched her stride up that beach with such determination frequently. I watched Mr Vick piggy back her over the sand dunes when her weak legs couldn’t get her there. I sore how free she was there. The Cutting encaptures all that was her.

The new chapter begun yesterday. We introduced Little Vick to the Cutting. To him it was just another big beach which he could scoop sand up in and be wary of the waves. The same as all the other beaches we have taken him to. How could he ever know what it means to us?

But as the Cutting evolves so do we. Ready or not it’s time to sit comfortable with the next chapter. New friends, new places and new little people will enter our life but old haunts like the Cutting will still feel like a special place in my heart.

Find Friday: The Vintage Special!

Posted on April 19, 2013 by Vicki

Some weeks are just heavenly Op Shop weeks. This week was particularly kind to me with some real vintage wins. Great things just popped up and jumped into my hands. That is what I call happiness.

You wanna see? You know how I love to brag.

Vintage ribbon… yes please. What will I use it for? Doesn’t matter… (translation: who knows?) but it had to come with me.

Remember these? Sure you do! Everyone had a Golden Book growing up. Little Vick now included. I like to purchase the old ones for his collection. The ones from our childhood. Not the modern Disney crapola. The ones which cost someone 69 cents originally. The ones with pictures like these:

And an item for the girl I will be birthing in a few weeks… wink, wink.

Clearly she is going to be a vintage princess. The very faded label on this reads Goldex. Any idea how old it might be?

And whilst I was bracing myself for a scolding from Mr Vick for Op shopping again when I returned home with this next one, he almost wept upon the sight of this little box. Apparently, it was this puzzle box that he dug out and played with on numerous occasions with his Grandmother. A treasured memory. A memory stirred and now a memory to be shared with his son. I knew it was a special little box when I first laid eyes on it.

The puzzles are trickier than they look but how I love thee.

Did you play with these puzzles too? And then there’s this little slice of greatness.

(sorry for the yucky quality of a shot on this one) 100% wool. You know it’s old when it’s made out of 100% wool. I am smitten. That is going to look spectacularly gorgeous on our little girl, otherwise it’s Little Vick’s duty to get it on!

Hope you’ve had a great week! Happy adventurers over the weekend

Knocked Up and Abroad!

The Musings and Rambles of a Travelling Pregnant Woman Now Turned Mum

Category Archives: Everyday Ramblings