Berry: big sister

Kickbaby is still being outstandingly easy (I'm still not counting on this to last, although it's wonderful) and Berry is an especially doting big sister who takes her duties very seriously. She defended him from the "masses" at preschool yesterday afternoon with a long and fierce display of arm-flailing and sobbing and tearful shouting: "MY baby! No take my baby broyer! "

You know, because crowds of toddlers are known for their kidnapping skills.

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Evans Family 2.0

I used to think it was a pretty odd decision, on my parents' part, to have five kids. Now that I have two of my own, I've changed my mind. They're officially insane.

I really have nothing to complain about; two kids makes an average family, and we're actually adjusting to this new life quite well. At home, Berry likes to kiss Kickbaby on the top of his head, stroke his arm, say "Are-you okaaaaay, little man?" and "Kickbaby hungry?" and generally mother-hen him in her own two-year-old way. She reads him books and draws lots of pictures of our new-improved family. At preschool she has photos of Kickbaby to show her teachers, and she likes to tell people about her little broy-er.

For his part, Kickbaby likes to sleep (it's still Week One, so I'm not assuming this will last) and eat and eat and eat and eat (this will last). He also likes to be carried around constantly and not be put down during his naps, thankyouverymuch.

Nathan and his dad have picked up the slack on paying attention to Berry while I'm pinned to the couch, and I've managed to persuade her that the reason I can't carry her around anymore is because I have a sore back – I showed her the band-aid left from my epidural as proof. That's one doctor's order that actually makes me a bit sad, despite all my complaints about how heavy Berry's getting. And despite the fact I have no free hands anyway.


I was lucky – so lucky – this time to have a perfectly smooth labor and delivery. As horrendously botched and traumatic as Berry's birth was, this was the other end of the spectrum. I love the Keesler Medical Center L&D department so much, I think someone should marry it.

I'm waking up with Kickbaby several times a night, as opposed to the hundreds (oh, I'm sure it was hundreds) of times I woke up each night with newborn Berry, and he's very easily settled. I'm not frightened of breaking the baby this time either (Berry was born five weeks too soon, weighed 4lbs 15oz, and had serious medical issues).

So all of this is making the transition to mother-of-two about as bump-free as it can be. I still have mind-wanderings in the middle of the night where I worry about how I'll share my attention between them, how I'll make them both feel loved enough and, to a lesser degree, how I'll handle working plus two kids. But since everyone else seems to have figured all this out, I'm pretty sure I'll get there too.

But when I extrapolate all this to five kids, I can't actually wrap my head around it. I'm deeply grateful for my brothers and sister, but my Mum and Dad were nuts.

So, note to all the grandparents: we're done. This is it. Enjoy.

And Kickbaby makes four...

Born at 12.09pm on Thursday, May 15
7lbs, 14oz
...and very serious indeed.

Berry is a bit offended that we won't let her look after him single-handedly.

Easy

"Really," I was telling Nathan, "it's a case of what came first – the chicken or the egg?"

Berry popped up from her sandbox excitedly: "The chi-chen!"

Glad we solved that one.


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Drinks to make you happy (when wine can't)

Sad irony of pregnancy: you're large and unwieldy and bored and uncomfortable and exhausted, and you can't even have a glass of wine to keep the misery at bay.

Adding insult to injury, soft-drinks are off-limits (if you want to be thin post-baby, high-fructose corn syrup is the devil) and so are diet sodas (for anyone who wants to be super-careful about artificial nasties).

So what's a girl to do?

Well for me, finding my long-lost, beloved Cricket Cola in Whole Foods saved the day. It was way, way more exciting than finding a drink should be. I first discovered Cricket Cola two years ago at a cute restaurant called Blu C Sushi in Seattle, and it seemed so quaint I thought I'd never find it again. I mean, it's a cola made of green tea! Fabulously good for you, with only these ingredients: sparkling filtered water, invert cane sugar (not evil corn syrup), and brewed green tea concentrate. And it tastes like cola, but better.

When I rediscovered it at Whole Foods, I bought three cartons.

When I want to be good, I mix it with La Croix sodium-free sparkling water (which I mix with pretty much everything these days) and when I deserve a treat, I drink it straight.

The label says, "Happiness in a Bottle". Yes indeed. I might never need Sauvignon Blanc again.*




* Hahahahahahaha. Ha.

Rejection

Driving Berry home from preschool, Thursday afternoon...

"Berry, guess who's at our house?"

"Grandpa!"

"Right. Grandpa and Daddy!"

"I don't wike him."

"Don't like who?"

"I don't wike-him Daddy."

"Aw, I like Daddy!"

"I wike Grandpa."



Ouch.


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38 Weeks... just for shock value

When I caught sight of myself side-on in the mirror the other day, I realised anew why strangers tend to stare (at best) or do a special double-take-with-gasp (at worst) when they see me these days.

If you look closely – which frankly, I don't recommend – you'll see that my poor overworked shirt can't even cover the whole stretch panel of my maternity jeans anymore.

It's all getting a bit unfortunate, really.

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Drawing Daddy 101

The drawing-Daddy commentary goes like this: "I draw Daddy! Eye.... eye.... he mouf... he shirt.... weg, weg.... arm.... aaaarm.... need hat! There. Daddy."

Sure, the arms and "wegs" sometimes seem to assemble together at the bottom of the shirt, and occasionally we get over-enthusiastic and end up with more than four limbs... but I'm going to be bold here and say for a two-and-a-half-year-old, this isn't bad:

Oh, chaos...

Berry had a noisy and impressive cough all night, so I kept her home from preschool.

The house did not thank me.


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