And may I present ...(drum roll)... crawling

So this is what started it... A bunch of babies and some kick-arse toys, juuuuust out of arm's reach. And voila! We have forward momentum. It's more commando than textbook elbows and knees, but I'm fine with a fairly slow speed - can catch her before she gets into the bin, pulls the power cord, eats the pegs, rips the magazine, licks the dog, and on and on.

So 

It was the House! It was the House that did it!

Mr B took a Friday off work just after we got back from holidays, (keeping the dream alive for as long as possible). It was a beautiful sunny day and we walked in to the South end of the city, to check out a new Thai joint, the little sister of very popular and much loved by boys, Spice I Am. Its name? House. Staffed by gorgeous Thai girls, attached to a pub selling cold Singh beer, spicy for Mr B, sweet for me. Kop khun ka!

Toothy pegs!

They're hard to capture on film, but we have two little teeth, bottom middle. They are super sharp and I love them! Why? Who knows... They have nipped me a few times, but after a firm "no" (which was met with a cheeky grin), she seems to have quit. But I love it when she chomps down on my finger with relish, like she's testing out a new pair of shoes. Which I guess in a way she is. Chomp chomp chomp.

MILF

Our holiday to Palm Cove did us good on a number of fronts. One - I'm feeling a lot better about my bod. Yeah, my tummy's a little crepy, my thighs are a little orange peely, but I'm comfy in my body again, and there's something so comforting about holding that tiny person against my skin, something uplifting. 

Plus I find a capsule wardrobe strangely satisfying. Why is that?  

Bliss

Sleepy baby. Happy baby. Yeah yeah yeah!

So Palm Cove was really just what the doctor ordered. We had a fabulous time, lolling by the pool, going on little walks, reading books, having lunch at nice beachside joints and generally spending time together as ...a family...

And The Berry, little minx, suddenly started being much easier to settle for her naps. Why? Who knows! Maybe Dadda taking turns? Maybe more food in her little belly? Maybe she could just sense the lack of tension. Or it was plain simple coincidence. I'll take it any which way.

Oh, and a note to travellers: babies on planes? I used to cringe when I saw them board. "Not next to me, pleeease!" Now I know, the smaller, the better. When you can still whack 'em on the boob, they're OK. Toddlers, not so much.

Mighty mummy

Juno is having trouble getting to sleep. I think by trying to solve one problem (weight), we've introduced another - associating breast with falling asleep. Which, to a point, is OK. But I can't feed her all the time, and she gets so upset if she wakes when moved into bed. It's breaking my heart to see her distressed by the world I've created for her, and I feel like I've failed her by introducing this "crutch" for sleep. 


I am still struggling with trying to be the person I think I need to be - the mother I think I need to be. I need to be stronger - when all I feel is so fragile. 

Summer holiday

We're going to Palm Cove for a holiday. Mr B just went ahead and booked it without even a consultation which I absolutely L.O.V.E. I've been pretty down in the dumps, but with the help of Nanny Sue, I braved the Zimmermann warehouse for some new togs. The depression of going up a size in bottoms was lifted by the novelty of going up *2* sizes in tops. So will be showing off my maternal bosom while it lasts.