Infatuated

Ok. I admit it.

Having a girl is not exactly the same as having a boy.

At first, I (tried to) believe that a baby girl invoked all the same feelings as a new baby boy did. It was "just another gorgeous newborn baby. The sex made no difference".

I've also told myself that the hugely adoring feelings I have towards miss Natalie are a result of being so much more relaxed and me really trying to enjoy the moments. All of these being a result of a bigger age-gap between #'s 2 & 3, and the boys being older and more independent etc.

But......

I'm ready to admit there may be more to it. All of the above are in fact true. All are very good reasons for my utter blissful state over the last 12 weeks. But I also have to admit they are not the only reasons.

There is something about the little girl which affects me in an indescribable way. I really wish I could describe it. It's an extra bond. A special protection for her that I feel. I can't help but melt a little everytime I dress her in a fresh clean shade of pink - or a dainty little dress which suits her pretty little face perfectly.

She's 12 weeks today and I'm a little bit sad. Ok, a lot sad. It's gone far too quickly. Time, please slow down. My little princess will be grown and gone off with her prince before I know it. And I'm just not ready. I want to kiss her pudgy little pale pink body for a while longer yet.

2 is company

Tonight I have the privilege (read trauma) of attending a youth church dance. *yawn* 4 hours of sitting and waiting and watching that your youth don't get up to any mischief. Thankfully my girls are angels and that isn't a problem ;)

As a youth, I hated dancing. I loved going to the dances and socializing but i hated the 'dancing' part. Because I can. not. dance. I felt self-conscious and dumb. I also grew to hate the feeling of turning up at a youth activity or dance on my own and then desperately scanning the room trying to recognise and locate someone I knew within 10secs of entering the doorway. And then there was the traumatic experiences of not being asked to dance in the 'slow songs'.

Elliot and I often remark to each other about how glad we are to be married. Because we don't have to go to dances and activities and try to socialize and do the whole 'dating thing'.

A major perk of being married is always having someone to take to a party. At least I'll have one person to talk to ;-) And for that I will be forever grateful.

I'm so glad I found Elliot - he's not perfect but he's perfect for me!

What will I choose?

Isn't choice a wonderful thing?

In light of my recent daily experiences and one particular 'light bulb' moment, I have reflected on my ability to choose.

I feel extremely grateful that I have so many choices that I can make each day. I have enough clothes that I can choose what I'll wear to school this afternoon to pick up Lachlan. I live in a developed country which allows me to be able to choose what I'll make for dinner tonight. (Now if I could just think what that should be.....) Thankfully, the same country also allows me to choose my religion and worship freely.

Yesterday I woke up and made the choice to be happy. And I had an awesome day.

I chose to ignore the filthy floors and play with Hayden instead of vacuum. It was so fun!

I chose to calmly go about the morning routine and not worry about the fact that I had asked the boys about 7 times to get their shoes on - they were nicely chatting to their baby sister on the mat so I lovingly helped them with their shoes instead. Sitting there as a family provided a moment of real happiness. We all shared a little joke together and laughed.

I chose to enjoy the time I was privileged enough to have with my children yesterday. And we were all happier!

Sounds like pretty 'no-brainer' choices huh? Like, why wouldn't you want to play with your kids???

But sometimes this mothering caper is so busy and overwhelming that I need to make conscious choices to enjoy it. And boy, it feels awesome!!!

What's your time?

I've always been a clock watcher. Always. Ever since I can remember.

I used to have to do a certain amount of practice on the piano. Oh how it was the slowest 30mins of my life sometimes. I used to have a timer set on the piano so I didn't have to do a minute longer than the required time.

I have to know the time. If I forget to wear my watch when I go out, it's a nightmare. (I'm a nightmare to the people around me.) I need to know the time all the time.

I hate to be late. It stresses me out. I hate people being late for me. It really annoys me.

For quite some time I've had an awful feeling that I use one particular phrase with my kids too much.

Hurry Up.

Usually said with a slightly higher-pitched tone than normal and with rather a lot of gusto.

Do this, do that, hurry up.

Come on, we're late. Hurry up.

If you don't hurry up, we'll be late.

HURRY UUUUUUUUP!

I think you get the idea.......

I came to the realisation several months ago that it was getting too bad and that I needed to do something about it. I made vague attempts in my mind to rectify the situation but I will admit that the efforts were poor and nothing has really changed, except to maybe get a lot worse.

Why does it take a serious situation to really bring about change? (Well, let's hope it's the start of a change.) Thursday morning was "one of those days". A shocker. I won't go into details but suffice it to say I threw a major tantrum and it was NOT pretty. There's been plenty of trantrums from me in the past but this was probably the worst.

To be fair, it wasn't totally the clock's fault in this instance. But this girl's awesome post was written for me. (Actually, after she commented on my facebook vent I do think she wrote this post especially to inspire me. ;) )

I blame my kids for my stressing and high feeling of harassment when I'm trying to get out the door 'on time'. Which is totally crazy. I have several choices in the situation.

So tomorrow starts another new week of routines and 'life'. And tomorrow starts my new regime of choice.

I don't think I'll ever be cured of my watching the clock - I need routines and schedules - I'm just that kind of person. But I will stop blaming the fast-moving clock on the kids.

Really. The only person to blame for the shouting and lateness is ME.

Getting 3 children plus myself out the door is hard. But I can do hard things. And I can do them quietly.

Sometimes I forget I have a baby.......

Natalie does a LOT of this:

I even have to wake her up for feeds during the day. She will just sleep and sleep and sleep.

We had a very rocky period in the evenings between weeks 2 and 5 when she was really unsettled and wouldn't sleep for hours but she finally 'got it' and sleeps perfectly at nighttime too now. She goes down for sleeps day and night without any fuss.

She IS the dream baby!

(And then in my head I have the good baby, good mother debate!!!) I won't get on my soapbox there but I think there's a combination of both. A lot of it is her personality and a little bit of it was my hard work.

I think each baby I've had has been easier. I put it down to being calmer and knowing what I'm doing a little better as time goes on. It's such a huge learning curve with the first.

Anyway, she's super cute (in our eyes) so here's a few photos to update you.