Peas, pumps and projectile poos

As the days settle into a quiet rhythm I’m afraid I may run out of new things to write so forgive me if this gets a little monotonous. I won’t blame you if you stop reading and find something more interesting to do. My dear old mum will keep reading it anyway and it cuts down on phone bills. I do forget most of the people I speak to on the phone have heard all my news already as they politely bear with me saying it all again. It is my modest (and cheap!) form of self therapy so serves a purpose.

Lucas continues, as my childminder puts it, to have some separation issues. Every day that I take him in (two hours late, after pumping, watching Gigglebiz, faffing, making his lunch, washing up) he quietly says at the door ‘Don’t want to play with Billy and Bella. Don’t want Adenar (Angela’s) house’ and proceeds to cling to my skirt until I prise him off and find the courage to walk away. He seems a bit more aggressive towards the other kids and more possessive with toys etc. He used to be such a pussycat letting everyone take things off him. I’m sure it’s nothing serious and all part of being 2 but I’d like to find a way to make Beatrix and Alexander’s entry to our home as gentle a one as possible and not make things any worse. Frankly, it’ll be a shock whatever we do.

The clinical psychologist at St Mary’s recommended giving him jobs to do and buying some dolls to get him used to the idea of changing nappies and feeding them. Perhaps I could get that one on the ads on Nick Jnr that wees. It always makes Lucas laugh. I realised he is watching far too much tele when he started saying ‘Coming up next on Nick Jnr’ in a TV announcer sort of voice and ‘next, another one’ after each programme. We asked him if he was going to work in TV and I was horrified that he said ‘yes’. I would be so gutted. Mind you he also says he wants to be a doctor. I find myself surprisingly Asian in these matters. I’d like my children to do something worthwhile. Having just finished ‘Battle Hymn of Tiger Mother’ which claimed Asian style parenting was superior to a Western style upbringing I am suddenly conscious of my attitudes and desires for my kids. It infamously set Americans tutting and made Chinese Americans incandesant with rage. I thought it was quite funny. In China amusingly they thought the other a model of modern parenting whilst she was being vilified in the US with people calling for her to have her children taken away for being so cruel.

Lucas has acquired many bad habits as our attention has been elsewhere. It doesn’t matter what I do or how early I start, since Gerard has started going to the hospital each night lucas’s bedtime has slipped from 8 to 8.30 to 9 and beyond. Sometimes he won’t settle till 10. Am I just a bad mother or is it all part of his not wanting to say goodbye and goodnight in case I disappear? Tonight his dad came home after I’d put him down and went to say goodnight. Lucas cried bitterly for his mummy and when I went up he pointed at his father and said ‘You go downstairs!’ Poor g. Lucas then proceeded to sob for half an hour, eventually resorting to shouting ‘Mummy I don’t feel very well.’ What emotional blackmail. I gave in when I couldn’t stand it any longer as he was getting too distressed and lay with him for 5 minutes to sooth the sobs that had turned to hiccuping gasps. My honeymoon re-entry which seemed so loving and so easy is over and replaced by a little boy finding new ways to show me he has missed me and doesn’t want me to go away again. I am more concerned with him than the two in hospital as you might have picked up. Supernanny would have a field day.

The Peas were good today. Both slept on my chest in a double cuddle. Last night I decided I had to take action to stop my milk supply going down and got up to pump. The 2-4am regime seems to be very important as it’s this feed that tells the body to produce more. Today it is definitely higher b still in alarming decline so it’s middle of the night wake ups for me until the are home.

In other news headlines, Alexander waited till I had completely changed dried and creamed him before he did not one but two projectile poos in his incubator which shot out all over his wires and the clean nappy I had put out at high velocity. Beatrix did me the honour too. Thanks chaps. I guess progress is going to start seeming slower now as there are less problems to solve. After yesterday’s attempted breast feeding triumph neither of them were awake enough to be interested today. Oh well. What happens now? More sleeping? A few more poos? The odd bradycardia. Enough to keep me busy. That and checking on the nurses. I fell like a nursemwhen zi am innthere seeing to their cares. Today the doctors left Alexander’s sheet soaked with ultrasound gel from a brain scan. When I felt it in the afternoon it was completely soggy where he was resting his head. I worry sometimes that the nurses do not rush to attend to them when they have a heart episode or when they are crying with wet or dirty nappies. It’s an incentive to be there but we can’t be there all the time.

I managed to get my hair cut at the hospital hairdressers today which felt good. Not very dramatic is it but I think I am ready for a short spell with no drama before they come home. I feel an urge to get out in the world and do things again. My friend Sarah visited today which was great. I need people to talk to there to keep me sane. Visiting hours are 3-5 if there are any other takers for a Peas viewing. I’ll chew your ear off though. All day I’ve had this antsy feeling like I want to go out and party or see things but I guess that will have to be satisfied gradually until we are free of our hospital obligations and allowed out to play again. In about 5 years. We should definitely try and make it to the theatre or cinema before they come home while there’s still a chance. Who’s going to babysit for 3? One sacrifice of motherhood is definitely culture and travel but it’s a small price to pay I suppose. I suppose.

Thank you thank you for more and more gifts. You are all too generous. To Sarah for funny tshirts and wall stickers and for remembering Lucas, to Lizzy and Dave and Maggie for very stylish bibs and to my cousin Shirley who I totally forgot to thank last week for the thoughtful gift of Amazon vouchers so I would have some music to listen to on my commute in. Turned out to be the last day but I will enjoy them anyway. Maybe on more ebooks which I plough through in my long daytime hours in the darkness.

Night night x

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2 responses to “Peas, pumps and projectile poos

  1. I feel your pumping pain. I had to pump after every feed for nine months and it was a royal pain in the arse. But somehow you just do it. Sending the pump back to the hospital was a joyous day though!

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