Confinement

Handsome guys. Big cousin Noah and the J.
I want to call the baby Noa, but the Smiths think it will be too confusing to have two Noahs in the extended family.

All the good names have been taken.


Nearly 22 weeks of my confinement gone. Now I know why they refered to it as confinement, the urge to stay indoors, curl up and hibernate is very strong.

My thinking brain has gone on holidays and there is just the vague, float-through-the-days brain left. I experience the occasional existential crisis in regard to achieving nothing, telling myself Dead-Poet's style that " I gotta do more, gotta be more", but action does not follow. I am not writing, quilting, knitting, socialising or reading.
Just floating.

School holidays have been fun and I am loving my sons very much. Sacha is talking a LOT. He stands beside me as I type saying "Uppeees. ( up please). Sacha play 'puter. Daddy Mummy's bed. Baseball bat. Nuffin. Tissue." A strange, seemingly non sequitor dialogue, which is in fact, not a bad description of what he sees around him.

Other favourite sayings are "Pack Away." "Bit noisy". "All done" and "Daddy work".
He says a lot of these things with his nose scrunched up like he is wearing 'a turd for a brooch', as his Granny would say.

J has been having holiday fun with cousins, Granny and Aunties. Have organised at least one play date for him this week with a buddy. The Family hordes will descend next weekend for my Mother's 70th birthday, it might be good for him to hang about with some normal..., uh, I mean, other people for a while.

Looking forward to the party and seeing old family friends and meeting their offspring.
Hopefully I will have amusing tales of inappropriate behaviour to entertain you with afterwards.