When mice ruin my photo albums, I make sauerkraut

Spring is here and the daffodil and tulip bulbs are coming up all around the house.

We have perfect blue sky mornings and there is no wind, only calm on the corner where we walk to and collect the mail each day if we remember.
Lambs are about to crowd the verdant and fecund paddocks while my own wee lambs are screaming their heads off as we are heading out this morning.

So spring is here. But remembering yesterday afternoon is taking the spring right out of my step.  I am driving to deposit more possessions in the storage unit to make more room in our little house.
The storage unit is a converted and decommissioned anglican church  and sits on our land a kilometre away. As I walk in I discover that all of my photo albums covers are being nibbled by mice. 

All of my albums are put together with savings, care, meticulousness and all responsible for charting my journey through life in pictures pre twins.

As I go through all the banana boxes storing my possessions, I see the damage and hit the wall as though I remember each photo the way it is being taken and later, the time and dollars set aside especially to develop and glue the precious photos into the album. I am now at a loss as to how my memories can be perfectly restored in these albums for later years without cumbersome chore of buying more and transferring the pictures anew. I am mortified

The desecration of my memories by innocent field mice comes as a huge let down and unleashes a deluge of tears and frustration about everything. But, I stop myself coming down on myself too hard for storing them in open boxes in the first place! And I remember too that my emotions are compounded mainly by a lack of sleep and need to go easy on myself.

I take the box stashed with albums home resolve taht its happened and retreat tired to the bedroom.
Our five year old comes in stands in the frame of the door of our bedroom and looks at me quizzically at where I sit as I fire an emotional email off to my mother. I say to her the mice have eaten my photo albums!

Our five year old responds to my plight by asking if the mice like cheese. I respond yes.  And she says we need to put cheese in traps and catch the ice.  The next morning still pondering over my plight she suggests peanut butter. So practical.  I get up and get the bait from the pantry and strew it around the storage. I feel proud for letting this ‘huge” thing not consume the little stored sleep adn energy I have

My mother responds I need to drive to her house which sits currently empty and have a break!

This morning around 2AM I google how to repair damaged books and found some clver adn aesthetic ways to repair my albums. As with the usual turn of events it takes a bit of time but after a while my brain catches up with my emotions. And then around 10AM this morning I decide I am making sauerkraut to take the sauer out of my kraut and stay put on the farm.

Good enough post partum fitness

My doctor asks me all the usual questions at the 6-week check up. How do I sleep? What is my energy like? Do I get out? Do I exercise? 

I reply I go for walks.

And then he asks what is the furthest distance I have walked so far and I try to recall the few times I have been for a walk. So I attempt to calculate the distance from one letter box to the next and the next.

There is a total of three letterboxes on our rural road. Last time I walked past the second letter box I did not make the third. To give the doctor the right sort of an answer, I come up with an estimate distance of 800 m but I am sure it's more. This is the furthest I have walked between all three letterboxes since  six weeks ago when the little ones arrived

He asks how many meters I usual walk even before the birth and I am pushed to think even harder for an answer. Letterboxes aside, they say a pregnant woman's brain shrinks and as far as I can remember before the anaesthetic wore off from my c-section, I recall only that I swim a lot and didn't really go for walks during my pregnancy which mixes up my brain up even more.

My doctor asks questions with military precision and speed and while I am trying to keep up with the questions he is asking simutaneously I am trying to give him true answers without falling into the trap of breaking into any one persona of the dozens of John Cleese's roles I have watched before and after pregnancy.

I am thinking how am I going to tie in the current walking distances with the swimming distances to derive at the pre-pregnancy fitness level the doctor is asking after? Did I do any walking other than to my car, to work, through the supermarket?

So I answer that I rowed at Corporate8 races last year and won. And he replies with military precision and speed, "good enough".

I next asks whether my wound had healed enough at 7 weeks to return to swimming.

He remonstrats then answeres that after a caesarean  it is a good idea to start by growing fitness levels by introducing slow short walks to longer more rigorous ones, then swimming, then biking, then ...

Today I walk to the corner, past letterbox one and two, pushing a double buggy uphill and make it just beyond letterbox three. I feel out of breath and a wee bit disappointed I have not made it a little further but I think "good enough" remembering my doctor appointment with fondness and catching my breath

Don't touch the sterilising bucket (Men take note!)

 It's amazing the meaning of what a bucket brings to my day...
Once a day upon a time around 8 o'clock I change my sterilising water in the morning

As a new mother it has taken me so long to get my head around having twins and figuring out what systems are there to use, how systems work and why systems are important as a new mother

I have already been finding out how skipping one afternoon nap for myself can upset the whole balance of things including processes and systems when two babies are screaming their heads off.

It has taken a two weeks hideous hiatus cooped up at neonatal unit learning about bonding, how to breastfeed, acclimatising to new schedules and body clocks, discovering the world of baby health, dealing with anxiety and proctective instincts to keep over zealous nosy strangers and their opinions at bay, all in the name of trying to be the best parent I can be for my twins before leaving this controlled environment and venturing into the real world.

When I get home it takes a lot of concentration, sleep and another week or two at home to reintegrate these neonatal learnings at home with all its nuances there (partner, five year old, cat, heat pump, limited hot water, visitors, birds in chimney) and there learning again this time how to be flexible, working around forever changing feeding times, and other babies needs in this new but old environment. Not to forget to remembering to look after myself  scar, bottom, dystriphied muscles, wobbly tummy

The centre of all operations as described above has all but become inadverdently centred around the sterilsing and the Eco Store bucket.

Once I have the morning feed out of the way I head straight away for the bucket to change water, pop a Milton tablet and transfer any cleaned bottles,

This elementary action prompts me to jump into the shower, brush my teeth, reminds to get out of PJ's, put fresh clothes on and have breakfast and pump.

The difference between the sterilsing bucket and me are not only do I get to do the above in a timely fashion before baby wakes but I also remember to look after myself. I take iron tables, dpoeridome, put crae on my scar and haemorrhoids, change my sanitary pad while still recovering from the birth.

In fact this process is the only exercise in the day during which I get to remember clearly  and write down what date and time of day it is- a sobering moment in a world of wakes, nappy changes, feeds, screams and burps.

When the other day I discovered my partner cleans the sterilising bucket, for what seemed just an innocent attempt to do something nice for me in the morning,  I went compeltely mental at him
He tried to pour the sterilising water elsewhere as it messes with the septic tank.

But mess with my sterilsing bucket and I turn into a transpecies of Rotweiler and human barking at my partner as I found out when all he did is change the sterilsing water for me the day.

I wish he told me direct about the septic tank. The fact remains looking after twins is relentless and tiring and brings out all kinds of instincts including the protection of sterilising buckets.

Recommended nursing bras incl hands free for pumping (Working mums take note!)

From cheapest to most expensive

1) I went to Farmers last night and bought an inexpensive which is not very supportive and as a result never wear.  I tightened the straps and cut two holes in it for the pump heads and it's PERFECT!  
Whether or not I plan to sew around the holes to protect it from fraying is highly unlikely. I might use textile glue around the edges to stop the fabric from running instead though.

2) Gilligan & O’Malley® Womens Nursing Soft Cup Bra available from TARGET
For more info where to buy and great feedback on Target bras, click here go to go to the Mummy don't buy that.com

3) Medela puts out hands free pumping bras available from AMAZO.
For more info, click here
Medela hands free nursing bra from Amazon US$34 + shipping


These looked quite interesting and good too:

Nursing sleeping bras
Nursing sleep bras from TARGET

PS. If you are unable to order it from NZ , try shipping to a friend who lives in a country that corresponds with list of countries mailed to and ask them nicely to send it on to you!

How to tie a baby wrap for twins (Men take note!)

Moby twin wrap - "how to" instructions

Source: You Tube