Christmas. Walking.

Ben has been getting his top teeth in for the past few weeks. He's also been on and off with colds since October.

And he is walking!! Yesterday was 2-3 steps in between things. Today was many steps, travelling about 6 feet to land on mama or nanny, sister, bubby or dada. By the new year, he'll be a little terror. Oh wait, he already is!

He's eating everything in sight. We feed him. With guests over today, he cruised all around the table, grabbing at things. Blueberries, crackers, pickles. At Oma's the other day, he was eating Kythe's baking. He started with a rather hard chocolate biscotti, and grabbed a shortbread with the other hand. I put the shortbread back down and moved the baking. He surfed around the table, and found the exact piece of shortbread and determinedly ate it.

Oh, the cookies. We left cookies out for Santa, who took a bite of the shortbread, and one of the gingerbread. And there's Ben in his Santa pajamas finishing them off the next morning.

Hannah was barfing. She was up in the night, Christmas morning, twice with the pukes. The whole family slept in til 11:15am, Christmas morning. Though Hannah did call through my door at 6:45 to excitedly and sweetly let me know Santa had come and left stockings and presents. We opened some, starting after we were all up. Then after a smoothie, on request, it started again. Barf. Poor girl. We took an afternoon hiatus on present opening. She went back to bed. Mama went to get some Gravol and ginger ale, some Lysol spray to keep the bugs at bay.

Christmas dinner with the family was cancelled, much to our disappointment. We four stayed home, while the other four had theirs elsewhere. We all still made what we intended to, just at separate houses. It was a most wonderful dinner we made.

I understand not wanting to catch the barfs. And kids share their germs freely. I just really didn't want to cancel Christmas dinner, all on one little girl's upset tummy. From facebook and some moms I talk to, it sounds like it's a common occurrence this time of year, when kids just get so excited, and eat too many treats and strange things, and maybe are pushed a little too hard and get run down. But we had Christmas, even if it was quiet. We saw some family today, and we'll see more later this week. Maybe we'll look back fondly at the quiet joy of just being us four, for Ben's first Christmas.

We did get a new camera.

Hannah's illness has passed. We are a little concerned she hasn't been eating much lately though. I'll have to make some more dinners she likes, salmon, rice, broccoli and such.

What Santa going to say

What Santa going to say: Elsa and Anna and a snowflake and is this one Anna with the blue dress only? or is this one Anna with the blue dress with flowers on it and with a cape and also they're in a snowflake and so they are - I think this is Elsa with only the blue dress. Okay. Bye Santa. That is all my words.

second degree

Listening to the radio, I say "This is Baby Got Back." Hannah responds, "Baby Got Back? the very next day?" Went with Hannah to the hospital today. Her burn looks so much better than last time I saw it six days ago. She's up now, 10pm, after a long post-hospital nap this afternoon. We had a great time making cookies earlier.

Hannah gets a burn

I had the ladies over for tea today. We were waiting on the last two to arrive, but went ahead and made tea since they were late. Hannah asked for her own tea, so I let her pick one from the cupboard (lime-mint 'mojito'), and poured her a glass. "It's hot hot hot," I told her, "let's wait for it to cool down." I went and set it at her place at the table, and went to get the piano bench to make up for a missing chair. I was halfway back when I heard the mug fall to the floor, and Hannah screaming and yelling.

I looked over her, scooped her up and took her straight to the tub to splash cold water on. She was holding her pajama top away from her chest, and I saw why: dark pink skin, with the upper layer peeling off. Oh, poor baby. Andrew came up and took over while I called 8-1-1 (nurse hotline, instead of emergency). Luckily my two friends were both there, who each had first aid training. It also helped to have someone to hold Benjamin when Hannah called for mama. We did our best to cool her down, cold towels on the burn, but as she went into shock she felt too cold and wanted to be wrapped up. It took about half an hour of panic, crying, and yelling for her to calm down. We all tried to stay calm. I told the ladies to carry on as best they could with tea time, because what else could we do?

It was a first degree burn, much like a sunburn. Hannah's been calling it the "tea" on her, because of how it happened. The nurse gave some ideas of pain relief and ways to assist healing, even interesting home remedies like raw potato. Maybe we'll try that tomorrow.

One friend zipped to the store to pick up children's Tylenol for Hannah. It took a bit to coax her into taking it, but she's good with it now. It helped a lot. She lay on the couch all afternoon watching TV and asking for fresh cold towels.

Hannah didn't want to look at the burn. She would close her eyes whenever we came to check it.

She napped on the couch.

Later in the evening, Andrew comes and quietly suggests we get her a little present to take her mind off things and distract her. I had just the thing.

I was at Superstore last week, without the children. I knew it was the perfect time to pick up a Christmas gift for Hannah. I am still not sure if she prefers Anna or Elsa, but I picked her up an Anna doll.

And it did the trick. She wanted us to help her unwrap the present and open the package, but it certainly made her happy. I tried out some lines from the movie and made her 'talk'. We took her hair out of the braids because Hannah wanted to see how long it was, and to practice brushing it.

Ben was concerned for his sister. He kept trying to see what was wrong, pulled the blanket. Talked and smiled at Hannah. When I called Andrew upstairs, Ben echoed my calls, "Aanh! Aanh!" And when the burn first happen, and she was crying, he was crying too.

We wrapped her up in gauze, to protect the burn while she sleeps tonight. When she gets up, we'll unwrap it and let it dry for the day. She got THREE stories at bedtime: Arthur's Christmas, All By Myself (Mercer Mayer), and Jenny's in the Hospital.

The funny thing is, we've been reading Jenny's in the Hospital all week. Hannah has been very curious about the book and we like to discuss it. I even read it backwards the other night to make her laugh. I really love these books that take kids through real life situations where they may be a bit unsure or scared. I feel it helped today, even though we didn't go to the hospital. But it gave Hannah some of the building blocks in her mind, to understand the injury. I wonder if there's a book equivalent of what happened today? If there isn't, maybe it needs to happen. I don't seem to remember Arthur or the Berenstain Bears ever having medical emergencies.

F*ing shoes.

Hannah chose to go to bed tonight. It was 9pm. She came to me with her toothbrush, then after finishing her teeth, off she went. We did some salami-salami-baloney, read a story and 5 minutes later she was out.

What? Who is this child?

I should've shuffled her off to bed at 8, but I was done. I took a time out and let her build a 'playground' from couch cushions while her brother crawled about and watched.

It wasn't a big mess. And she had a BIG day.

Up early to say bye to dada, a little bit of TV before coming to wake mama to get ready for gym time. She seriously did that. Beat my alarm. I made oatmeal with browned butter and sugar, but she only had a little. She had already enjoyed cereal from dada and a yogourt cup she pulls out of the fridge on her own.

Gym time with her friends, followed by watching the salmon spawn in the creek. Home, bread baking, soup for lunch.

I made the most wonderful soup last night. I baked a kabocha squash, split it in two, put half in the fridge and half in the soup. The family devoured the soup. I went to warm it up today, and dumped a container of orange slop into the pot. Boy, this is like, ALL pumpkin, I thought, stirring it. Did we even get pumpkin last night? Did it all sink to the bottom or something? Totally didn't clue in, until it was all cooked. That's just squash. The soup is in the other container. Ooops.

We went to visit my grandmother, a 45 minute drive, as my aunt and uncle are in town. I love to see them, but it is hard. Both kids are in my lap glomming me, and interrupting, and making the other one cry, and I feel like I barely got past "how are you" in the 2 hours I spent there. Luckily they slept in the car there and back, else I might've sworn off taking that trip ever again.

Dinner was linguini alfredo, asparagus, and a roast chicken from the supermarket. It's hard making dinner with two tired, hungry kids on hand. And I'm all no more candy, dinner is coming, leave me alone!

I'm catching up on Once Upon A Time. Once I finish this episode, Family Reunion, I'll be all caught up. It's been a month or two, and a lot of knitting. Now I need to find a new series for the backside of my dress.

I've been wanting to make cookies for days, but I haven't decided what to make. It haunts me every night until about 11:30, when I decide it's too late anyway.

So today, Hannah goes and picks out her shoes, "Mama, I'm going to wearing my f*ing shoes."
"You what shoes? Your ... your fun shoes?" I try to plant a better word.
"Imma wear my f*ing shoes." She responds, cool as can be. It's as if she's saying she wants to wear her purple shoes.
"Who calls them your f*ing shoes?" I ask calmly, trying to match her tone of indifference.
"You do, mama."
"Oh," I backpedal, "your funny shoes. I must've called them your funny shoes."

Think she bought it?

Peeking and Eating, Hallowe'en

They're all in bed. Hannah went down early. She peeked out until mama came to tuck her in and delivered water. I didn't read a story tonight. I did read one last night - I need to more. I'd like to more. It's just that I'm usually trying to put Ben to sleep, and he tends to perk up if he hears exciting voices like Sister. Ben took a while to go down, dada had to take over. He kept waking and listening for sounds of mama, hoping I'd come. I had already done my part, he's tired, he's fed, just go to sleep.

He isn't the miracle all-night baby any more. He gets up in the dark. He gets up just before light. He's still darling, but he doesn't sleep all night. And I just have to go to bed earlier to deal with that.

And he eats. Oh does he ever eat!

Tonight was salmon, steamed broccoli, and rice. He's much like Hannah, though I don't think she was such an eater by 8 months as he has been. Both are great self-feeders. Just lay it out and baby stays busy grabbing and munching. Ben is pretty intense though. I pause between bites of my own dinner to plop three decent sized chunks of butternut squash, sweet potato, and chicken onto his tray. As I take my next bite, he reaches down, grabs all three chunks in his mitt and mashes them right into his maw. Little monster.

I've been sorting through his clothes today, preparing boxes to give away. I realize my sewing room is just filling with my old clothes, Hannah's, and Ben's. I don't know if we'll ever have a third child, yet I'm saving some baby clothes just in case. It's just a matter of how much I should even bother saving. There are some Ben never wore, some Hannah barely wore, those all just have to go. And with cloth diapers, many small pants never fit in the first place.

The cloth diapers. I ordered some new ones, I should've ordered a couple more. About a dozen of my original BumGenius are to be retired. It's time. Those diapers have been absolute tanks. 28 months of work in my house, they've served me well.

Hannah called up her crazy cousins yesterday. They love talking on the phone together. I was hoping they'd just compare their Hallowe'ens and enjoy chatting, like they had the day before (when 5 minutes in, Hannah declared a "party bum bum" and they spent the next 45 minutes squealing and chatting, Hannah sitting naked in the mirror talking to her own face but her cousin's ear through the phone), but no.

"Wanna come to my house?" her cousin asks.

Instead of being naked and having a phone party, as I had been hoping for, the kids organize a playdate. My 3 year old and her 5 year old cousin had it all set up. So despite my cold, my drippy nose and hoarse throat, I pack up both kids, take them to the grocery store, pick up supplies for lunch, then we had over to see the cousins. They had a great time, as always.

Hannah's cousins are crazy about the holidays. They particularly love Hallowe'en, and have bought a few 'scary guy' decorations. This year's new scary guy was a life size zombie with scary voice and flashing eyes. The girls wouldn't even enter the room with that thing. Hannah also wouldn't walk in the driveway alone, because of the zombie with maggots crawling out of his face.

The 5 year old thought it was funny how scared the girls were of the flashing-eye zombie guy, and kept moving him closer to them and laughing. Both girls hid under the table and when asked to come out, kept saying the zombie guy was there. Now, I figured because he was so into this new zombie guy, the 5 year old wasn't afraid of it. So I took it off the stand, and chased him around the house, croaking out "huuuug me" in my sick, hoarse voice.

Apparently he is afraid of it.

Oops.

Speaking of Hallowe'en:

The kids did an absolute marathon day. We did Mom's group, the natural foods market, the pumpkin patch, and THEN we did a full grocery shop at the regular store too. I can't even remember what we did for lunch, did I pass my daughter a granola bar and an apple or something? And I have this photo of them in the cart:

BOTH smiling and playing racing-car, at 4pm, after being out since 9am. Troopers.

They aren't always like this. I'm just posting it here as evidence that they CAN be like this. Sometimes.

Part of it is probably the 8'o'clock bedtimes we had earlier last week. It started off good. I really do like that cutoff. The baby doesn't always go down, but life is easier if the big girl is asleep. We can tidy and not have someone following behind dumping crayons or tossing the cushions off the couch. Baby dumps crayons too, but somehow it's cuter when he does it. Sorry, sweetie.

So the pumpkin patch was a big hike. We went to the very farthest corner of the patch, and back again, Hannah on foot and Ben asleep in the Ergo. Ow, my back. We picked a few green pumpkins, and it was tough just to narrow it down to 5 pumpkins for the family. One for each of us, one for good luck. Hannah thought we needed more than one for good luck, but we put those ones back.

I did some furious carving in the 24 hours leading up to trick-or-treating. My masterpiece this year:

okay, it's more of a bag lady than a wicked witch, but I did want something a little different for the green pumpkin. Hannah's adorable pumpkin,

The circles are eyes, the lines above are eyebrows. I took some artistic liberty in carving the chin. I just love the way little people draw.

Today I was trying to write down a recipe. Hannah commandeered the pen, "Is it okay if I write it in up and downs?" she asks. "Sure," I say, knowing I won't get the pen back, "2 cups flour." Hannah begins to write, /\/\/\/\/\/\/, "Okay, what next?" and I read out the recipe, and she scribbles. The last item, 2 eggs, I tell her she should write it out proper. E--G-G-S. I find the paper later, and there it is. A big E and some squiggly G's.

I'm proud of her. Maybe too much. She does a really decent job with letters. She clearly wrote her name in a colouring book the other day, HANNHA. Love!

Hallowe'en was really non-eventful. We barely got pumpkins out in time. There were maybe 30 trick-or-treaters. Hannah and Ben went out with their dada for about 45 minutes and made it all the way to our realtor's house and back, just like last year but faster. No rain. Hannah wore her Anna costume, and met a big Elsa (the real Elsa, she said), and a little Elsa.

Ben wore his kitty-cat pajamas. I couldn't even locate my eyeliner for whiskers. It's okay. Not every holiday is a pinterest miracle.

Poor little guy. He just wants his mama.

He did join us for fireworks. He sat with dada and was just sorta shocked. Hannah and I sat together, and BOY was she thrilled by them. The first few minutes she was giving standing ovations, "WOW!!!", eyes to the sky, mouth open and smiling with uncontrolled glee, hands clapping. The other kids, toddlers especially, were equally charmed. Our neighbours are fantastic, spending what might amount to a ticket to Hawaii, instead on fireworks for Hallowe'en. We do look forward to the little neighbourhood gathering every year.

Afterward, Hannah's grandparents dropped by to see her costume. I'm glad they did, she was excited to show everyone. Ben even sat for a while with his Bubby, smiling and watching his face.

We definitely needed the day of rest on November 1st. Oh wait, we had a playdate instead..., yeah, and afterward the kids came home and napped until 8pm then stayed up another few hours til 10:30, 11. Daylight savings time change makes me feel a bit better about that one.

8pm this week, 8pm.

Swimming

Took both kids swimming today. Ben almost fell asleep in the pool, and was asleep before we left the change room. Had a two hour nap when we arrived home. Hannah had no nap and was a terror by dinner time. Went with Taryn and Adrienne from mom's group, and their babies. Was good they had each other though, as my hands were full with baby AND three year old Hannah. Hannah starts swimming lessons soon and I really hope she can do this without mama in the pool.

Swiss Night

We haven't been to Swiss Night in a long, long time. I'm not even sure that we've been since we married, as our favourite band (S-Bahn) doesn't play there any more. I do know we were there 12 years ago, and once or twice since. 12 years ago. I had only started dating Andrew a month beforehand. There's a photo of us, me in a pink shirt and my old esprit jeans, him smiling and flushed from dancing. both wearing Swiss Night ribbons pinned to our chests, standing in the doorway there. It was different. You could hardly get on the dance floor it was so busy. S-Bahn has a few folk dances they get everyone involved with, so even those of us who don't know how to dance can at least join the winding conga line or a simple round dance. The speeches were a bit long. The outdoor tables were crowded, could hardly get a seat. I was 16. I was a vegetarian, so the one dinner available to us (a giant sausage) was not going to happen. Yeah, I ate that sausage tonight. I had a piece of weisswurst too, veal of all things. Hannah tried a little too, but she was mostly into the tomatoes and pistachios our well-prepared friend brought. Our group danced, and a few older couples, but I didn't understand where everyone else went. It was always a roaring party in the past. Is it just that everyone is 12 years older? What about all the young people, is it because we've all got kids now, and are stuck holding babies or rushing home for bedtime? I was surprised how many kids there were, I didn't expect so many. There were enough for many scavenger hunt teams. Our team made it back first, with the help of my friend's 8 year old leading the charge, so all our children received red swiss hats. Everyone was wearing red. We wore red too. And the lanterns, I'm so glad Hannah could be part of the lantern march. I hope they advertise better next year. Maybe I'll need to post something about it before, instead of after. Funny thing happened, we were just 2 houses down, and our neighbour's tenant was parked in the middle of the road, idling her car. We waited as her boyfriend ran out and jumped in the passenger side, and they drove off ahead of us, winding through the neighbourhood and heading out east toward the farms. Andrew suggested they too were going to Swiss Night, and I figured that'd be too much of a coincidence. No, I told him, surely they're just going for blueberries or a walk along the dike. So we saw them at Swiss Night.

Benjamin, 5 months, Hannah, 3 years, on Love

Hannah had her birthday on the weekend. Family and friends alike came, and it seems everyone knows Hannah quite well by all the gifts of colouring books, stickers, and other art supplies. She has been scribbling all week, since, and making toy ice cream cones for us, and telling us how to eat them. Her party was unfortunately scheduled right during the World Cup final, and of all teams, Germany was playing. Andrew bought her a Germany jersey for her birthday, so she could wear it during the game. So we were inside, TV on, snacking and waiting for the game to end. Guests all over. 31C in the house. Some of us sitting on the deck, but there was no breeze. I feel like I should've served ice cream cake, though my angel food and poppyseed lemon cakes went over well, as always. Hannah's candles were prematurely blown out by the wind, and we forgot how hard little fires are to see on a summer afternoon, out of doors. I think she did manage to blow out 3/4 herself. Perhaps this is a good sign of some sort.

Ben slept through much of the party. He has two solid naps a day, when we're not out and about. He is such a fantastic baby, I can't even say how much!! He isn't too hard to figure out. He smiles a lot. He sleeps well. Nurses readily. Loves his big sis, and cries less as she tries to play with him and move him all about. And she loves him so much. I know she's a little jealous at times, but for the most part, she just wants to be his buddy, his caretaker, his best friend. And he rewards her with smiles and laughter, though I hear myself saying to her every day to be gentle and listen to his response when she isn't gentle, hear when he makes sounds of disapproval. I tell myself that all these little blips are leading to greater empathy for others in her.

Benjamin at 5 months. The little one gets ignored, doesn't he? I'm not so eager to get him interested in this toy or that, as I was with Hannah. When you have all day to pay attention to one little baby, you try everything. I figure most babies across the world, across time, aren't drowned in toys the way ours are in the western world. Their primary entertainment is probably the best one of all: their family. And that's what Ben does most, is sit or lay, with me and Hannah talking and playing, doing our chores around him. I ran across a blog today, a mom who outlines every month the things baby does, the things he likes or not, all the gushy monthly love that I certainly haven't been committing to blogs. And I don't exactly have these lists for baby. He smiles at me in the mirror when we go potty. We can make him giggle using the mirror too, or just by going close-far-close-far and making funny noises. He's happy with pretty much anyone we pass him to. He nurses normally, it seems Hannah's nursing was a little more urgent most of the time. He doesn't like being wet, but then, who does? He sleeps on his stomach, because he wakes up if he's on his back. And sleep he does. Most nights he'll get 7 hours in a row, more or less. This morning we slept in till after 10am together, after a little wakeup around 7, nurse and back to sleep. Sometimes he doesn't go back to sleep, and just kicks and dozes, coos and smiles next to me. I feel a little guilty by trying to catch more sleep instead of looking at my marvelous baby.

He really is. Just marvelous. I LOVE those two.

Hannah is three. She is hard sometimes. She was put to bed after 10 last night, and was up til after midnight. She clearly did NOT get enough sleep, and was a bit of a terror this afternoon. My throat is still sore, because after so many minutes of ridiculous crying over 'mommy took off my coat which was on upside down and I wanted to wear it upside down' I went beast mode, yelled and sent her to her room for being absolutely nonsensical and overtired and crying about it all. And you know, she felt better after that. She hung out alone for a bit, and after 10 minutes or so, baby woke up, and I quietly went in and deposited him next to her in the bed. She was thrilled to have her baby brother there, that I'd trust her to take care of him for a bit, and the cuddled up together, Hannah chatting and holding his hand.

She loves to hold his hands, to touch him. If I take him out of her care, she always makes one last request to touch his cheeks, touch his feet. In the car, she always wants to hold his hand, across the gap between their car seats, and gets upset if she can't reach his little hand.

Was my brother so loving toward me? I can't imagine it. I hope she is always like this with him, truly, a big sister. But love, there is much. I hold Ben, I smell him, I kiss his fuzzy little head, his soft cheeks. And I know that someone once did that for me, for my husband, for all these beloved people we know. How beautiful, that each life starts with such an outpouring of love. That each of us has loving people to build us up and fill our hearts, one snuggle at a time.

I wish I had more interesting stories about Ben. I took him to the mall, he was cheerful as I tried on clothes, then he slept as I finished my shopping trip, and all through the farmers market. I took him to a friend's house for a Norwex party, he kicked around on a blanket and was happy for a few hours before I finally had to take him home. He slept in the car.

He can't sit up yet. He can push up when put on his stomach, and look around. He gets the bouncy chair going pretty good, and slides down til his bum is higher than his head.

He went in the pool for the first time last Tuesday, though I suppose he's been in the ocean a little bit. We lounged around Sun Valley wading pool, while sister played around us.

He's big, but not too big. About 17lbs. Fits into 3-6m clothing pretty reasonably, like, actually fits in things according to their tags. It's all good.

Back to bed

Once Hannah's bedtime routine has been performed to her satisfaction, she lays in bed reading Berenstain Bears books. Often we find them scattered around in her bed, with the "New Baby" one laying open in her sleeping hands. But some nights, after a bit of reading, she has more business outside her room. Tonight she strolls into the kitchen with hair elastics in hand. "I want to wear these to gym time tomorrow," she tells me, then goes and uses the washroom. Business completed, she goes back to her room, closes her own door, and goes back to bed. I'm just surprised how matter-of-fact she is about it. No pleading for extra time, no addition kisses, stories, or tuck-ins.

A new life

Baby Boo (or, Ben) was born two months ago. I was SO done with that pregnancy. I gained 15lbs more than I did with Hannah (which I still have, so it hasn't gone to waste, even if it HAS gone to waist.) My body creaked every time I stood up, it took a few seconds for my pelvis to get into position for walking. My back hurt. I peed every hour. Baby liked to kick for the first hour I was in bed every night. I was very uncomfortable. I felt HUGE. I was huge. I saw a photo of my cousin carrying twins at 8 months, and she looked like me at 7 months with just one baby. Cripes. It just didn't end.

And then it did. I was up until 2:30am the night before, after a long day. Church event in the morning, mall in the afternoon, a missed connection where I completely blanked on my dad and stepmother coming to visit, and we didn't end up meeting. Once Hannah was down for the night, snug in her owl bed, I headed downstairs to my sewing room and started finishing Brown Baby Quilt in earnest. I had been working on it for nearly two months, since I bought the delicious 1001 Peeps fabric at the fabric store's boxing day sale. LOVE love love the fabric. Didn't realize for a few weeks that I had just invested in fabric full of camels, turbans, and harem pants, for a baby Hannah had dubbed 'brown baby'. It's her favourite colour, that's all. And I laughed too hard the first time she called the baby that.

We still call him that.

So after a charming two hour nap, I wake up wet at 4:45am. I go to the bathroom, and I am so relieved. It's like something has changed, I don't feel nearly as uncomfortable any more. There's clear liquid that has come out, which is a good sign. I go back to bed, try to fall back asleep, but contractions start every 12 minutes or so. Plus I'm excited, as it's finally happening. I go over in my head, when do I call the midwife? When do I call the doula to come, and my mother-in-law to pick up and take care of Hannah? I doze on and off for a bit, finally text my doula at 8am. She still goes to church, teaches Sunday school, and we reconnect in the afternoon. By the time she gets here at 2pm, Hannah is already with her Nanny. The doula hooks up her TENS machine and gives me my button to push with each contraction. She leaves, and I bake a loaf of bread. We text back and forth, she encourages me to nap. I go to Hannah's bed and nap for a bit, then get up and make some ginger molasses cookie dough. I know I won't have time or ability in the coming week, all postpartum and newborn jazz, so I get it done.

I keep track of contractions over 7 hours time. They stay pretty steady at 8 minutes apart, close in to 6 or 4 at times. By evening I tell my doula she should come now. Andrew and I have a lovely dinner alone, just the two of us. It's lovely. I know I need to eat, as one never knows how long labour will be, or how much energy we'll need to complete it. The doula arrives, and starts doing her job to get labour moving faster. I'm doing lunges across the living room, not knowing the neighbour across the street is watching through her window, knowing what's going on. My legs still hurt in the days afterward. I walked up and down the stairs, I paced in circles through the living room and kitchen. The midwife came and checked me, things were progressing well. Between contractions, I was cheerfully chatting with my very upbeat and happy doula. Contractions even seemed more bearable this time around. If my first labour was the ocean, this one was a backyard swimming pool.

The contractions didn't get too much closer together, but progress was made significantly by the next time the midwife checked. Andrew comes in the room and supposedly I was to tell him about the extra centimetres in dilation my cervix had gained. But I didn't really feel any different, I didn't think it was such miraculous gossip. The midwife had me get on all fours and do some cat-cows to move the baby's head down. I got all over that one, come on down baby! And it worked.

The second midwife arrived. The midwives went to my bedroom to set up all their birth supplies. I was oblivious to much of it, and the chatter from the other room wasn't much different than two ladies making perogies in the kitchen. I made more progress over the toilet, with more liquids and eventually a big boogery mucous plug sliding out. Every advancement was just so awesome, I was so happy to become unpregnant minute by minute. By 11pm, I felt it was time to move to the bedroom.

We set up the towels and chux pads on my bed (incontinence pads, very important for a home birth). I'd have some contractions, and in between take water and pee breaks. They were still far enough apart and I was still capable enough to walk to the toilet. But not much pee came. Until eventually, a WHOLE lot of pee came. I made it back to the bed after, and it was just a few minutes before I felt the urge to push. It was 10 past midnight, and it only took about 4-5 sets of pushes to get him out.

I admit it, I cheated. Just a little. The midwife was saying, only push when you feel the urge, but ohhhh I wanted that baby out. I'd give it a little extra as the urge subsided. By the third round, I felt her hands going up there. I knew the baby must be close. When I asked about it, my husband said "You're REEEEALLY close". I don't even know what any of this looked like, I had my eyes closed. The midwife instructed me, as she had to for my first birth as well, to "unghhhh" instead of screaming. Oh right! Use that energy wisely. So I Unnnnnghhhhhed. Then she said we'd do push and stops. So my doula coached me through it. I'd Unnnghhhh when she told me to, then pah!pah!pah!pah!pah! with my eyes wide open looking into her face as she pah!pah!'d with me. It certainly felt like a baby was coming out of me. And pah!pah! pop! Out slithered a big baby. He looked big. They put his slimy body on me, not all towelled off like Hannah had been. I didn't quite have the energy to pick him up and peek at his parts, so I just accepted for the moment that it was a baby, and looked into his scrunchy little face.

Andrew verified that it was indeed a boy. The midwife was saying, "I knew it! My guess was correct!" He was just too big to be a girl, apparently. When she weighed him, I couldn't believe it. "4..." she started, "whaaat?" I said, remembering that Hannah had only been 3700. "4380g" was the final verdict, that's 9lb10.5oz.

My doula told me later that I said something around the lines of "I can't believe there was a tiny penis in me the whole time". Or maybe it was tiny person. Heh.

She also noted, during the birth, how my stomach so visibly dropped as labour progressed, baby got into position and liquids all leaked out. It did certainly change shape, but it can be hard to marvel at little things like that when you're giving birth.

Right, so now he's almost 10 weeks, and it's 1:30am and I'm knitting while watching Julie & Julia, and Hannah's been asleep since 10:15, baby since 11:30 or so, and next up is me.