Grooovy baby yeah!

Patrick and I were in Spo.tlig.ht the other day- yes, stashing up- when Patrick pointed at something exciting, and, I swear to God, said "Oooooh- Groovy!"

Spring is definitely here- today it had reached 28 degrees by 1030 am and Pat spent most of the day amusing himself playing in one of those giant plastic clamshells filled with water and stuff from the kitchen (plastic measuring cups, a colander, a funnel, stuff like that). (Our clamshell once belonged to one Mr RJ Hawke. Cool, eh?)

Actually we "had" to go to spotlight because most of the onesies he had last summer are way too small for him, so I'm making a new batch, as well as some more lightweight pants and things for hot days- thank god it's going to be cooler for the next few days because what with him playing in the water today we basically have very little left for him to wear if it was going to be that warm again.

I know, riveting stuff.

V2.0 now 11+4/40. Scan Wednesday.
Now here's the photo for Pat's 21st birthday party invitations:
cute bum.

10+5/40

Now nine days to the all-important 12 week NTScan. I'm counting them down because I can't wait for this pregnancy to be officially ON. I'm still feeling ambivalent about what a poor result will mean. Count that chicken when it hatches, eh. I'm also going to find out my baby's gender this time- I think it will help with the preparation for their arrival into the world, unlike last time when I was in denial about the pregnancy up until about 37 weeks. The transition from multiple miscarriages to getting pregnant- and staying pregnant, moreover- pretty much on the fourth month is taking a while to get my head around. To be honest, I had expected it to take much longer- from 'drawing board' stage to Patrick took us about 2 years, and doing it all in about one year seems precipitous. It will also be nice to be able to tell people I'm not just fat, I am, actually, with child. There's been lots of belly-checking-out going on that I am all too aware of at work, and I will be tempted to draw on my scrubs "up the duff" so people will be able to stop not asking because they are too polite.

We spent the weekend in Canberra for a symposium on Obstetric and neonatal anaesthesia which was excellent, and worth the total of ten hours of driving on the godforsakenly dull Hume Highway. Patrick spent the weekend with his grandparents (MrT's parents) and had an absolute ball, which was great for all involved.

Shameless crawling

Minnie inspired me to get a new button tin.

Here's the old one- compartmentalised, organised.... BORING.
Aaaand the new one- free for all with a lolcat candidate on the lid....EXCELLENT

you- what???

I've said before I'm much more enjoying toddlerhood than newborn. Patrick is so much more responsive, easy to please and demonstrative. On Friday we bicycled down to the dog beach so Patrick could see loads of doggies, and there was this moment when we were walking along, hand in hand, Patrick babbling away to me and gently, oh so gently stroking my fingers, and I thought to myself- this is such a precious moment, I hope I can remember it forever.

But there are, of course, moments when his ambitions far outdistance his abilities. He'd love to be able to blow bubbles with the bubble wand like me, but he can't work out how to do it and ends up getting cross and storming off. He'd very much like to be able to jump off the ground, but just can't work out how to turn the gravity off. He'd like to be able to push daddy's lawnmower around to make the grass fly up in the air, but isn't strong enough to push it (we have a push mower, not a power mower. We're not that dumb).

One area in which he is rapidly improving is his language. Most days he picks up at least one new word- today's word, for example, was 'dip' (as in, you dip the bubble wand into the bubble mix). He usually prefaces his wants with Peeshe (please) or at least 'ta'. Sometimes we also get a 'tengoo' (thankyou) once we've handed something extra good over (normally an uncapped marker pen and some paper). When we were in Melbourne, he learned 'train'- Melbourne's excellent public transport system is one of the reasons it is consistently voted one of the world's most liveable cities- and now he applies it to pretty much any item of mass transit from actual trains to ferries and Kombi vans. He often points out things of interest to him in books or on tv- duck, cat, plane, moon, baby, ball, bubble, balloon...

And then there are the words that he says that I have absolutely no idea what they mean.

Conversation held in the back yard whilst taking in washing today, about 4.30 pm:
Patrick:"Lolo, peeeshe".
Me: "What do you want?"
Him: "lolololololololo...peeeeshe"
"Sorry Pat, what was it you wanted?"
"Lolo. Lolo. Lolo. Lolo."
Concerned look on my face "I still don't get it"

Him- staring straight at me, serious tone of voice, s-l-o-w-l-y

"LO-LO". [pause]."Peeeshe"

If any of you have any idea what he was talking about, I have a paid position here as a baby translator. You can stay in my study (since I never get in there anymore) and we have plenty of clean sheets and towels.

El pueblo unido jamás será vencido

I bought this t-shirt for Patrick when he was a tiny baby, and today was the first time he has worn it. I come from a long line of socialists and unionists- my father, a barrister and solicitor, was a lifelong union member even though he always worked in highly-paid executive legal roles, and refused to work when his staff were on strike in solidarity. I belong to the same union as the cleaners and orderlies. My mum voted "No Dams" in1983. We all marched in protests in Uni and high school, so I'm trying to get P in early. He was laughing his head off as I waved my fist in the air and chanted "El pueblo, unido, jamas sera vencido". He held up both his arms, but by the time we were about to go to daycare he was holding up one hand, but I just couldn't make him do a fist for me, sigh, which made him look less Marx and more Nuremburg. That must be the influence of the (conservative) other side of his family. I'll have to work on that!

The bloodwork from my first obstetrician visit is ok-ish. My Progesterone is a little low- lower limit of normal=35, mine=33. The good DrG assures me this is 'probably' fine, but now we are 9/40, this is probably ok- only Patrick has made it this far, so I'm in an 'almost relieved' frame of mind. I have booked the scary 12-week nuchal translucency test this morning, so I'm not planning on revealing anything to my work colleagues (or even my parents) 'til then. I'm also in two minds as what to do with a scan that isn't, well, reassuring- over the last two days I have met two kids with Downs' who were, in a word, adorable but I remain unconvinced I would have the patince to raise a child with a profound disability. Hmmm, heavy stuff.

Oh, and for Minnie- (and y'all who may be confused), when we take a medical history, the short hand for duration is n/7 for days, n/52 for weeks or n/12 for months- eg MrSmith has been complaining of a headache for 3/7 (=3 days) that may be as a result of his recent diagnosis of a brain tumour 7/52 (seven weeks) ago, in the setting of a 6/12(6 month) history of melanoma. However, in obstetric practice, it is common to put n/40 instead of /52 for weeks because that's, of course, the normal gestation period. Then you put the 'plus 2' or whatever, for 'plus two days'. So 27/40+5 is 27 weeks and 5 days pregnant.

And today we are 9/40 +0. Next wednesday will be double figures and, omg, a quarter of the way through. Woot!

V2.0 8+4/40

I has a scan.

All good at 8+4/40. I am more than a little surprised to be progressing well with v2.0: I really thought there would be at least a v2.1 and maybe a 2.2 before we got this far.