Well all those sleepless nights and cluster feeds are actually amounting to something.
Today we had baby boy’s 2 week check-up with the maternal child health nurse. They really keep a close eye in the early days and like to make sure that babies are taking in breastmilk/formula and putting on weight.
He has grown a few centimetres.
In only 5 days, baby boy has put on 220 grams!
And if we look at his lowest birth weight since being born (which naturally happens days after birth) he has put on 410 grams since.
Wow! I had noticed his face was looking a bit fuller, but I certainly didn’t expect that.
The nurse was happy. We were happy! Baby boy MUST be happy too (with all those feeds).
As for me getting up at night? It’s a bit easier now knowing that it’s helping him.
We might just leave it at that. It is a gratitude blog after all…
I can stay home as long and as often as I want, and I don’t feel bad for it… not that I should. But the weather does not permit me to go outside, nor does my heavy belly. 😂
Despite what life throws at you during the week, there is nothing quite as relaxing as watching a movie to wash away it all.
Even better when it’s preceded by dinner with your best friends, and the movie itself is about the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll.
Of course, we are talking THE KING himself, Elvis.
Dinner and chit-chat was amazing, and then the movie was too. Warning, it is long, at 2 and a half hours! But I was pleasantly surprised and engaged the whole way through.
Notes for new viewers/repeat screenings:
Bring trakkies and mocassins. You will thank me later.
If you can, go to a cinema with super comfy lounge-y, possibly reclining seats. It doesn’t have to be gold class, as long as you feel like you’re at home.
Speaking of gold class, it wouldn’t hurt. Having food and drink delivered to you throughout this 150 minute fest wouldn’t hurt, really it wouldn’t.
Lastly, go get yourself an Elvis CD/record. You will want to play him all the next day.
Just as well this film was entertaining, as I have promised to watch it with my sister and hubbie too!
I’ll just make sure to bring those super-comfy pants.
We’ve replaced our takeaway Tuesday recently with a do-whatever-you-want theme.
This usually involves either using up leftovers, making a super simple meal, or making a completely different one altogether.
I’ve really been enjoying making new things on these nights. Knowing that Hubbie and baby girl are catered for, either with creative leftovers or simple dishes, I feel free in the knowledge that I can make whatever I like for myself, and no one can WHINGE. 🤣
It wasn’t anything complicated, but I wanted pasta, and I’ve been craving mushrooms, so I made this garlic mushroom pappardelle.
It’s funny, I made it with me in mind, and yet everyone loved it, breaking away from their own meals (leftover pizza with egg, cheese toasties!) to get some of my dish.
So instead, I’ll focus on the memories. Of my uncle.
I’ll start with a recent memory, even one that I’m pretty sure was shared today in church. My uncle was telling me at a family gathering not too long ago, about some of the family history. Not only does this kind of stuff fascinate me, as he is my Mum’s brother, but I find it amusing how each sibling often has their own version of events.
They are all true, of course! But still, their own take on it.
And I was eagerly listening to what he was telling me, and I can tell you honestly that I can’t remember what it was, but I remember one thing CLEARLY.
He was saying how he was the third born child in their family, but the first son. A huge grin spread across his face. This made him happy, proud, giddy like a child. I smiled with him, his worth and self-esteem at this fact so apparent, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment. In a fairly patriarchal time, having a son was something revered strongly, just because well, having a boy, as well as the obvious fact that they carry on the family name, so it was clear this was spoken about, celebrated even.
He was certainly happy about it.
***
He was always happy, actually. He’d usually start talking to me, with a bit of a straight statement, that immediately turned into a joke, and honestly the second sentence in he’d be laughing, me joining in.
***
Hubbie got along with my uncle too. Hubbie told him countless times that he was the best dancer, told me too, and anyone that would listen… he was light on his feet, fast, and moved so easily, that he was able to dance to traditional folk music like no other. It truly was a joy to witness, a special thing to be in the presence of. To this day Hubbie is adamant, no one in my family is as good a dancer as he, with his grand-daughter a close second… of course, it runs in the blood. I imagine him dancing up there, ripping it up and having a ball.
***
But my fondest memory, isn’t really a specific memory, it’s a collection of them. Because as a teen growing up, my parents along with all of my aunties and uncles, would get together and play cards, A LOT.
It was always the women against the men. So my Mum and her two sister-in-laws, along with my Dad and his two brother-in-laws. I would be home… chilling in my bedroom, listening to music, watching a movie… and they would be carrying on like nothing else on a Saturday night. Can you imagine, six 60 year-old somethings making noise like there were 30 in the house? There would be laughter from the winning teams. Angry outbursts from the losing teams! There was banging on tables as they went “Na!” and slammed their cards down in a ‘take that!’ move. And after they had all had their fill, sometimes a few games, sometimes eight, they would keep talking, eating, drinking coffee, way into the wee hours of the morning.
I really loved them being there. It made me happy. Seeing my parents happy, made me happy. Seeing my uncles and aunties happy, made me happy. Seeing them all together, having fun, laughing, getting cross at each other, accusing each other of cheating (😮😬😆) and making memories, is one of my best memories of them all. Because they had each other. They were having a ball, with none other than their very own family. I realised even at that young age, how special it was, and thought often, too often actually, how lucky they all were. They were all present, they were all there. They were each other’s peers, sharing all their happiness, troubles, all stories.
When I was younger I would sit with them, counting my Mums cards. When I was older, I would wonder into the kitchen sometimes at midnight, and they’d be there in the next room, playing cards. Sometimes they would acknowledge me, sometimes they’d stare seriously at their set of cards, as if the state of the world depended on it. Other times I would go to sleep, and they’d whisper loudly as they passed my bedroom, leaving the house at 1:30am.
This memory has nothing to do with me. But I was witness to it, and seeing the love around that table, hearing what transpired, the good, and the incredibly funny… I will never forget it. It was the best time. For all of us.
You can’t choose who your family are, but you can choose who you spend your time with. And they chose each other, time and time again.
Rest in peace Ujo. I don’t think I can look at a set of cards or hear a kolo, without thinking of you fondly.
While washing dishes I put on Guido Hatzis’ “Do Not Talk Over Me” comedy CD. I shared in this post years ago how much fun we had then in re-discovering some hilarious comedy from the self-confessed Adonis, and it was nothing less than that tonight either.
Our favourite clip is “The Plumber.” It has to be his best phone call. If you watch it on YouTube, the comic version, close your eyes, don’t let the images distract you. The call itself is better than anything on screen.
We went down a bit of a rabbit hole, looking into the background of one-half of the Guido creator, and the voice himself, Tony Moclair. And somehow, that led to all three of us posing for stupid selfies on baby girl’s ipad. 🤷♀️😆
Stupid face selfie. 🥴
Shocked selfie. 😲
We just smelt something bad selfie. 🤢
Laughing selfie! 😂
Yawning selfie. 🥱
Friday nights are awesome in and of themselves, but to have so much fun, laughter and lightness in it, is just another level altogether.
But today we learnt of cancelled plans. And though you don’t wish for bad circumstances like that to unravel for anyone…
I kinda paused. Stopped. All the whirring, planning, go-go-go that I was in the midst of, came to, a-slow-halt.
Huh. What do I do now?
A LOT it seemed. I enjoyed simple things like cleaning, tossing the ball with baby girl, blow drying my hair, and getting takeaway to eat at home with the fam with a dam good sauv blanc.
And what better day to relish cancelled plans, than on a cold and windy night?
carcrashgratitude 