All posts tagged: #baby

Running!

I’ve never been a big fan of running. My husband (Jeremy) and I used to openly scoff at Healthy Couples who went running together on weekends, while we gorged ourselves on Eggs Benedict and masses of inactivity. There was a brief reprise from my running aversion in the lead up to our wedding, when, fresh from getting engaged during a trip to Europe that involved pretty much non-stop eating, I chose an exceptionally unforgiving wedding dress and had to take drastic action to fit it. Apart from short-lived bursts of resolutions where I’d set up a monthly donation to over-priced gyms, and a stint of healthy eating and fast walking with the buggy after Amy (now three) was born to prepare for a trip where swimwear would be a major wardrobe feature, there was never any real interest in fitness. I mean, Rachel Smalley wouldn’t have pointed at me and shouted “lardo!”, but I was just never particularly fit. Jeremy started running as part of a lifestyle change following a diagnosis of “how are you …

Baby un-friendly decor

The baby is mastering the arts of both eating solid food and blowing raspberries – she likes practice these skills simultaneously. This milestone causes me to pause and reflect on the day we chose the fixtures and furnishings while renovating a few years ago (while pregnant with baby #1). “There’s no reason we shouldn’t choose white shagpile carpet, white chairs and bar stools, and a sleek white-and-chrome dining table with impossible-to-clean-crevices” we mused. “Children don’t NEED to be messy; we’ll just teach ours to be really clean” we smugly reasoned. What a couple of asshats.

Rustle rustle

When trying to sneak back to bed at 4am after re-settling both baby and toddler, the once soothing and inviting rustle of the duvet suddenly sounds as obnoxious and loud as someone struggling to open a stubborn packet of chips in a movie theatre during a crucial-yet-quiet scene.

On Leave

(Originally published in the May/June edition of NZ Little Treasures Magazine) With the memories of a nightmare flight with Tilly still causing me to break into a cold sweat, I vowed to never fly again until our children were old enough to be reliably distracted by entertainment. Then a chance arose to go on a short, child-free holiday with my sister-in-law and nephew (adult, totally self-sufficient and non-tantrum-throwing), and we tripped over ourselves in our haste to agree to go. I was ridiculously excited about the actual flight and wouldn’t shut up about how I was going to eat a meal while it was hot, watch a current movie, and go to the toilet all alone without a baby climbing up on my lap nor a three year old standing in front of me demanding we count how long my wees go for. I could barely fathom thoughts of sleeping in a hotel bed right through the night, in clean sheets that I didn’t have to launder. As for choosing activities without a thought for …

Up and Away

(Originally published in the March/April edition of NZ Little Treasures Magazine) It’s possible that parental affection combined with the passing of several decades had made memories fuzzy, but apparently I was The Best Ever Travelling Baby. Having heard family stories such as “the time we landed in Singapore and all the other passengers gasped in surprise because they had no idea there was a baby on the plane” and “the time you slept all the way to Hawaii”, I hoped my own babies would inherit my magical travelling gene. With a small degree of trepidation, we took Amy on her first long-haul flight when she was six months old. Six months: that magical age where they still sleep quite a bit and can’t move anywhere by themselves. The ratio of adults to children was 4:1 (we flew with my parents), we had a bassinet, three massive carry-on bags of books and toys, and even though we went through every single change of clothes thanks to reflux, I chalked the mission up as a success. So …

Dinner Time Dramas

(Originally published in the Jan/Feb edition of NZ Little Treasures Magazine) When both my daughters took an early shining to solids (Tilly actually flung herself from my lap, face-first, into her big sister’s mashed potato at 4.5 months, and Amy’s first tentative sentence was “more yum-yums!”), I thought we were off to a cracking start and would soon be eating as a family, every night. Then a few curve balls got in the way… Dinner Is So Early! If you’re bedding by 7, and factoring in time after dinner for bath, stories, cuddles, and even the most low-drama of pyjama putting on, you rapidly run out of evening. Both my girls descend into meltdown mode if they’re not loading their tummies by 4.55pm on a good day, so week-night dinners are often simply too early for all family members to be present for. Mess! Amy and Tilly both discovered the joys of eating and blowing raspberries simultaneously. It’s astounding how fast and far pureed pumpkin can fly from a baby’s mouth. Tilly insists on waving …