ALTHOUGH I posted about having a faeces of a week, I actually do have a few things to be grateful for:
Unicorn birthday wishes: Yet another inspiring conversation with Princess Ella this week: Ella: “Mum, can I have a unicorn for my birthday?’’ Me: “And where would we buy one of those?’’ Ella: “From a unicorn shop, silly. They have lots of different sorts of unicorns there.’’ Me: “ Thanks. That’s good to know.’’ I am now on the hunt for the unicorn shop. If you have directions, please pass them on.
111 people are talking about my Facebook page: I’ll admit, I had no idea what “111 people are talking about this’’ meant when I saw it tucked under my Facebook profile banner. Exactly what is the “this’’ they’re talking about? I thought I should ask someone. That “someone’’ was Facebook people. And they had an answer. Apparently they’re not ALL talking about me, some are just clicking the “share’’ or “like’’ button – lazy, I say, darn lazy – but none-the-less, I’m in 111 people’s minds this week. Scary.
Birthday presents: Holly doesn’t fully understand that while it was her first birthday on Monday, it was Ella who opened all her presents. I’m sure this will be a different scenario in 12 months time. But let’s not go there just yet. For now, let her bask in the glory of her li’l mountain of wrapping paper. Which was actually Christmas paper, but let’s not go there either.
I’m joining with Maxabella Loves to share what I’m grateful for.
Bring on daylight savings! We're all tired of getting up with the rabbits.
THIS time every year the farmers start complaining about the cows getting grumpy and mums get grumpy about the kids complaining they’re tired. Yes, welcome to the wonderful world of daylight savings.
If you’re like us and have a bird sitting on the window sill at 5am whistling to the tune of Wake Up Jeff, you’ll know daylight savings couldn’t come quick enough. Last night we started on the path to gently adjusting Baby Holly and Princess Ella’s body clocks for daylight savings, which this year happens at 2am on Sunday.
Since Ella was born, we’ve used this guide and it’s worked for us – from babyhood to preschool age. So I thought I’d share our (mind numbingly) simple plan for those who have never had a plan or end up going stir crazy because their overtired children turn feral for the next two months. If it works for the cows, why not. If you have teenagers, sorry, but you’re alone on that one!
You can adapt this to your child’s bedtime if it isn’t usually 7pm. Also consider moving their dinner time earlier by 15 minutes each night as well. This can be used at the end of daylight saving too, by putting children to bed later.
Here’s the bedtime plan:
Tuesday: 7pm
Wednesday: 6.45pm
Thursday: 6.30pm
Friday: 6.15pm
Saturday: 6pm
Sunday: 6pm – the children are already adjusted
If you missed last night, that’s OK. You’ll still be on track if you start tonight. The key to all of this, of course, is to be organised and expect to be SUPER tired this week. Unless you have a live-in nanny. Yeah, right.
Do you transition your children in the lead up to daylight saving? What are your tips?
IF YOU stalk me on Twitter or Facebook you will know Baby Holly did something pretty special on Sunday night. I’m talking Bruce McAvaney “speeeeecial’’. Sorry, but it is AFL grand final week. Baby Holly managed to sleep an entire 10 hours. Ten.straight.hours. If you were here right now I’d be going the full-on chest bump. Although, beware: the two girls do leak.
The one downside was at 3.30am when she stirred slightly, I remained awake until she finally rose at 4.50am. I know, not exactly my idea of a good time to start the day but, after 10 hours straight, I’m not complaining… yet.
At 3.30am, I got up and did a whizzer, had a drink and then snuggled back up to The Bloke in The Shed. Sure, his loud breathing and occasional snort didn’t help, but I just couldn’t escape back into that dream where George Clooney and his pig move in. Yes, highly unrealistic. His pig’s dead.
Sleep eventually returned after Princess Ella finally learnt that midnight disco parties aren’t fun after a year of them, so I know it won’t be forever. I just can’t remember how long it took or whether there were any tips to fast-track my way to sleep.
If you know the answer, please do tell.
PS. I’m writing this last night, so I have my fingers crossed I haven’t just jinxed myself and get up to her three times during the night – as per usual.
PPS. Daylight savings starts this weekend, so now is a good time to start getting the kids to bed 15 minutes earlier each night. Then, by the weekend, they’ll be well adjusted. And 4.50am will be a more respectable 5.50am!
THE O’Briens decided to make the most of the beautiful spring weather yesterday and headed out for a picnic and bike ride. To be honest, when it rains nine months of the year and drips off the trees the other three, it doesn’t take much to convince Taswegians it’s shorts and t-shirt weather.
We headed off to the Bluff (a playground and sheltered family beach area). Princess Ella held my hand, while The Bloke in The Shed cuddled Baby Holly as we searched for a spot to throw down our fetching brown and yellow picnic rug. We’re relishing these moments, knowing in the future they’ll much prefer to walk five feet in front of us and wouldn’t dare sit on “that ugly thing’’.
Mmm, nice shot of me!
Once we’d all filled our tummies – that included the seagulls Ella decided to feed half her sandwich to – we set off for a bike ride to the lighthouse. Ella walked up to the door and knocked on it, in the hope someone might come and answer.
She was impressed to hear I’d climbed “100 stairs’’ to reach its top. OK, so I made it sound rather romantic, when in reality it was hot and claustrophobic up there. We then walked, hand in hand, around the base of the lighthouse so she could see how wide it was.
Walking around the lighthouse with Ella
No bike ride is complete without a little crash, which thankfully this time only required a bit of patting on the knee and a kiss. The rest of the trek was fairly uneventful, if you don’t count Ella making us stop at the soundshell so she could perform a concert. If it wasn’t for the hair, you would have sworn she was Dolly Parton. Well, sort of.
We ended the day with Holly’s first swim at a private pool. After seeing her earlier with that face – the one of full concentration – there was some trepidation about the swim on my part. I had fears the pool would end up featuring more than just the floaties that were attached to her arms.
Baby Holly and I swimming… ah, I mean, posing.
Snuggled up to her, we were barely five minutes into our swim when I lost my footing in the deep end and dunked her under, resulting in her drinking half the pool. At 150cms tall, it’s not hard for me to be in the deep end. She then held onto me with a vice-like grip – and me to her. Or maybe it was just the fact she missed out on her usual afternoon top up from the milk tankers. Although, there was no way she was getting a pre-swim drink. Apparently, regurgitated boobie juice is like confetti in a pool.
Half an hour later, she gained a little more confidence and was happy to go to The Bloke in The Shed for cuddles and a swim, while Ella showered me in kisses while inadvertently pulling me under. Holly’s scared shivers and little frown were replaced with laughter and splashing as they trailed along behind Ella and I who, I might add, kept leaving bright green patches for her sister to swim through.
A more confident Baby Holly and The Bloke in The Shed
After the usual cuddles andbedtime kisses after their big day, the day ended just as I was about to finish this post last night with Ella experiencing a night terror for the first time since that last episode. Thankfully, some soothing words, stroking of her hair and kiss on her forehead she was back in the land of nod.
What little acts of affection have you shown your cherubs today?
Linking up with Naomi from Seven Cherubs for the final in the Cherish Your Cherubs series.
Going out for coffee with The Bloke in The Shed… without children. Embarrassingly, it’s the first time we’ve done this in 11 months. How did that happen? It meant I drank a whole chai latte… hot! Every two minutes, we’d forget we were alone, resulting in a quick swivelling of the head and gasps of: “Oh gawd, we’ve lost the kids.’’
Another hot date on the beauty front. After last week’s rendezvous with the beautician, tomorrow I’ve somehow wrangled a date with the hairdresser. Feeling like a Kate Middleton-style princess at the moment. Please don’t hate me. If only I’d thought to run the review and giveaway of Garnier’s new beauty phenomenon, BB Cream – complete with photos of my ugly mug – AFTER the appointment. This is probably why I’ve refused to show the vlog of me putting the cream on.
Princess Ella teaching me good manners. She’s still oblivious to the world of swearing (thank ^&#*$), but if I say: “oh, stupid computer’’, she responds with: “we don’t say stupid, Mum’’. Or “I hate the skin on this mandarin,’’ she comes back with: “We don’t hate things, Mum’’. Sheesh.
It was a big day bike riding (and sugary treats) that led to Princess Ella's night terror that night.
SHE screamed out “Mum, where are you?’’ with such terror in her voice I could only but run to her, hoping she was OK. It had been a long time since this nightly stalker had visited; since he’d totally taken over her little body.
When I arrived, she was sitting up straight, rocking back and forth and whimpering. That image breaks my heart every time. “It’s OK. Mummy’s here,’’ I say, instantly going into auto pilot. I know the drill. I know what’s to come, how to manage it and when it will end.
She twirls around in her bed, like a dog chasing its tail. I quietly ask her to lie down with me. “I don’t want to,’’ she says through tears. I ask her if she’d like a cuddle. She looks straight through me, shakes her head and even more tears fall. “What would you like?’’ I ask. She shakes her head again and then begins rocking back and forth. I put my hand on her back to pat her, but it only prompts her to do another circle. By now, I should know better than to try and touch her.
“Let’s lie down,’’ I insist again and so she does. I run my fingers through her hair, hoping it will calm her. The whimpering stops. Then, as quickly as it stopped, it starts again. This time the wails are loud and long. It prompts her dad to come in.
We know the drill. This is where it ends. The sound of both our voices telling her it’s OK instantly calms her and the beast that has taken over her body disappears. She lies down and within a matter of seconds is as peaceful as… umm, oh dear, I can’t think of anything. Gee, a girl knows how to ruin the moment, doesn’t she?
Anyway… Night terrors, unlike nightmares, happen earlier in the night. From experience, they tend to happen for Ella when she’s overtired or consumed too much sugar in one day. Thankfully, she has no recollection of these episodes the next morning. For that, we’re grateful. We also have no reasoning why it takes both our voices to calm her so instantly. But it does. Every time.
Do your children experience night terrors? What works to calm your child?
