Up the mountain

Ok, so yesterday's post was a little lacklustre, even by my standards.  Nothing like writing a post because you feel you should, even though there's not much to talk about and even fewer photos to share.

Clearly a do-over was in order.

Luckily, yesterday, in between writing uninspired prose, I also took a trip up the mountain with B and the girls.  AND I took my camera.

Firstly, random shot of J watching the rain last week.  Little cutie curly-top.

Now, onto the good stuff.

It was one of those sparkling winter days that they do so well here.  The air was crisp but the sun was warm.  Hardly a cloud in the sky.  The mountain beckoned.

Clearly it had beckoned to a lot of other people too because the obnoxious "boy racers" (that's what they call hoons here.  It's too cute a name for what they are) were all there too, being obnoxious.

J's first experience of snow

B's car told us that it was about 2 or 3 degrees celsius up there.  It was quite pleasant in the sun though.  If we'd been able to have some coffee and cake that really would have rounded out the afternoon.

I always take way too many photos of the mountain.  Even with my DSLR, photos do not do it justice.  It's very frustrating.  My dad confirmed it last week.  He's seen the mountain via my photos obviously, and he agreed that photos simply do not compare to seeing it in person.  It's huge!  It towers over you!  You will just have to trust me on this!

It was such a beautiful day.

In totally unrelated news, the daffodils have all come up in our paddocks and are now flowering and what stunning flowers they are.  They're some kind of double extra frilly variety, so I'll have to dig some up to put in the house garden for easy access.

I really must work on my nighttime photography skills.  But you get the idea.

After such a clear day, we had an extremely cold night last night which led to a major freeze.  So get excited for some (more) frost pics that I took this morning!  Do you think this frost obsession of mine is almost as tiresome as my autumn colour obsession?  Or possibly even more tiresome?

I'll leave you pondering that one.

A visit from Grandpa

Hi gang!

It's been a little while since my last post as we had a visit from my dad, J and A's Grandpa, last week.

Speaking of my previous post just quickly, thank you for the lovely response!  I know it doesn't change anything about the situation but it's always reassuring to hear just how many people have experienced the same thing.  I especially like you people whose non-sleepers have gone on to log 12+ hours per night within a year or two.  Keep those tales coming please!

We had a great time last week with Grandpa.  The last time he saw the girls was at Christmas so it was wonderful for them to see each other again.

J had an absolute ball with her captive audience all week and got her fill of kisses and hugs and tickles.

The weather was pretty average the whole time, plenty of rain, but we managed to squeeze in a bit of sightseeing including one trip up the mountain during a brief spell of sunshine.  Dad will probably want to kill me for posting this, but here is his bald spot he admiring the mountain.

We were having too much fun for me to take many other photos during the week, most unlike me but sometimes it's nice to take a break from capturing every single moment.

We did take Grandpa to the Brooklands Zoo which we are quite devoted to.  I'ts beautifully done, with a farmyard, a huge monkey enclosure, a walk-through aviary, a big playground in the middle, and - my favourite part - entry is free.

The rain has continued into this week, and the girls and I have all come down with colds.  It's like a mouth breathers convention when we all sit around the table together.

J is now doing two days per week at kindy starting this term and loving every minute.  She's really gaining confidence there and talks about the place for the rest of the week.  It's been a great fit.  I love arriving to pick her up to find her pottering around in the garden with her little friends or just sitting quietly doing a puzzle, perfectly content.

Well, I'm fresh out of things to talk about so here is another photo of the mountain because: mountain.

Babies who do not sleep.

"If someone were to ask me what my number one priority in life is at the moment I would say my child's sleep.  If they were to ask what most of my time is spent doing, I would say putting my child to sleep.  The reason I bite my husband's head off with a mere glance of the wrong kind is because I have poured any and all patience, understanding, and love into putting my child to sleep.  Sleep...

I have this beautiful, smart, healthy boy and all I can do is think about is sleep instead of enjoying this small window of babyhood I have with him."

I don't know who wrote the quote above but she has NAILED IT.

My first child, J, loves sleep.  We did some full on, cry-it-out, torturous sleep training with her when she was very small, and whether that led to her great sleep habits now we will never know.  My gut, however, tells me that it's just who and how she is.  She needs a lot of sleep, and hence we have had very few sleep troubles with her.  Even now at two and a half, she sleeps (or is in bed being quiet at any rate) for 12 hours overnight with a 2.5 hour nap in the middle of the day.  Every day.  Every night.  She only ever cries out if she's sick or something's actually wrong.

So what exactly does this have to do with a quote about babies who don't sleep?  Because of my second child, A.    I've alluded previously to the fact that she isn't a great sleeper.

We allowed some bad habits to take hold early and have made (I see now) only half-hearted attempts to fix things.  We've been inconsistent.  We've done whatever's quickest in the moment to get her back to sleep.  Because we are so.bloody.tired.

This is how nap times went for the first, oh, five months of A's life

Over the course of her short life, A has woken up approximately 43 million times.  I can no longer remember what it feels like to go to bed and sleep all night.

Before A was born, when there was just J, I used to look forward to J's bedtime because it was my chance to "clock off", to relax and have some time off from being a parent.  She never ever woke up for no reason.

Now, we have A who wakes up any time from an hour after putting her to bed, to (what seems to be her personal favourite) about five minutes after I've put my head on the pillow and closed my eyes.  Or every 40 minutes all night long.  Or starting the day at 4.30am.  Or all of the above.  Day after day.  Night after night.

I never feel that sense of "clocking off".  It's like I never get a break.  It may only take less than a minute to get her back to sleep but I feel constantly tense, ever vigilant for that cry.  Did I just hear her?  So even when I could be sleeping, I struggle to switch off.  It's exhausting.  My eye bags have eye bags.

I used to listen in quiet horror to other parents' stories of non-sleeping children and wonder how on earth they could carry on, day after day, night after night.

The answer, I now know all too well, is because what other choice is there?  There is no one you can hand this off to (bugger it).  You can say "I can't do this.  I can't keep doing this" as many times as you like and still you must carry on.

I'm so sick of thinking about it.  I'm sick of talking about it.  I'm sick of obsessing about it.  I'm so tired (haha...) of turning over all the possibilities in my mind, all the what-ifs and should-wes and the whywhywhyWHY.

You have this tiny little person whom you love so much it hurts, who just wants you in the middle of the night.  She just does.

I know she'll sleep eventually.  Things have already improved from the dark days of months four to eight.  I'm sure one day we'll have to drag her from her teenage bed.

I'm not entirely sure why I've written this post.  I'm not sure if I'll publish it (edited to add: I guess I made up my mind!).  It feels good to just get it out there, even if it is a little "off-brand" from the happy tree-changers stuff you normally get from me.  On that note, this doesn't abrogate anything I've written previously.  I am very happy.  Friends and family: I'm fine.  I do love our life.

But.  If you have or have had a non-sleeper, I salute you.  Day after day.  Night after night.

I promise that normal programming and mountain photos will resume next post.

Three months in NZ

Three months ago today, we boarded that plane for New Zealand.  My first thought harking back to that day is, thank god we never have to do that again.

Hideous long flights with small children aside, what an amazing, heart-filling, whirlwind three months it's been.  I've already subjected you to a fair bit of NZ-related gushing so don't worry, I'll spare you today.  Suffice it to say, it has been the best thing we've done.

Further to my last post, you'll be relieved to know that I did get my Kathmandu jacket.  I chose the Isograd 3 in 1 and I can confirm that it is indeed toasty warm.  It's not a puffer but a raincoat with a zip-out Polartec inner which can be worn separately on its own (hence the "3 in 1").  As I pointed out to B, I practically made money buying a 3 in 1 jacket.  He remains unconvinced but resigned.

Apropos of not much at all, I dragged down my copy of Donna Hay's No Time To Cook from the shelf and was immediately stumped as to why I haven't been cooking from this book all along.  I think my mum gave it to me many moons ago and I flipped through the pretty pictures, and even turned down a few corners, before never looking at it again.  It's such a great book!  Super quick and simple recipes with minimal ingredients.  All illustrated in that inimitable DH style, before she got a bit too pretentious and obsessed with baking paper.

With a packet of chicken thighs mysteriously included with my click-and-collect grocery order, I settled on the Chinese Chicken Hotpot for dinner the other night.

It really was quick and easy to assemble but once I started cooking I remembered why this book hadn't rocketed to the top of my favourites list.  Donna Hay recipes drive me mad - the instructions are usually woefully short on detail (I don't want a Jamie Oliver-style thesis but generally it's useful to know what temperature to cook things at), and I rarely find that following the method to the letter leads to a successful dish.

And so it was again.  I cooked the hotpot for an extra 10 minutes, because I couldn't see how it could possibly be cooked in the time suggested.  So I doubled the cooking time, and the rice was still a bit underdone and the chicken would not have wanted to be any pinker.

It was definitely tasty.

But, was I transported back 15 years to Ying Chow on a Tuesday night, when a group of us used to descend en masse and order a dozen hotpots for the table?  Well, no.  There is potential, and I've jotted some notes for next time beside the recipe.  All in all, an ok dinner.

And there inconclusively concludes this post.

What do you guys think of Donna Hay?  Is it just me who can never get her recipes to turn out?

And yet more garden progress

Well, having whinged a fair bit recently about not making any progress in the garden, suddenly in the past couple of weeks we've made leaps and bounds.  Obviously there's been the weeding achievements of my last post, but the other day we called in the big guns (aka B's dad) to do some more major works.

Please avert your eyes from the unweeded garden bed on the right of this photo.  I'm getting there!

The front yard had this weird diamond-shaped raised garden bed right in the middle of the lawn which was a big waste of space and mainly infested with stinging nettles.  Naturally I do not have a before photo.  I'm nothing if not consistent in this area.

Anyway, it obviously had to go.

B started out removing the rock border which quickly turned out to require a sledgehammer and significant amounts of brute force.  The damn thing was cemented in!  No, actually, the damn thing was an old fish pond that had been filled in at some point.  Oh goody.

It was possibly the world's sturdiest and most permanent diamond-shaped fish pond.  No flimsy plastic or fibreglass here.  Tonnes of concrete had gone into this thing.

Luckily J's Poppa has all the skills and equipment needed to demolish and dispose of the thing.  I shudder to think what it would have cost to get rid of if we'd had to hire his services.

J is deeply obsessed with all manner of diggers, trucks, tractors and machinery so she was front and centre for the whole operation.

That's how it's done, people.

Those of you who follow me on Facebook and Instagram will have seen the ominous rain clouds that arrived a couple of days ago and their promises were not empty.  It poured.  I'm not sure how far the news travels from little old Taranaki, but you may or may not have seen that we had people paddle boarding down the main street.  The stairs at the main shopping centre became a water feature as the rain spilled down into the shops.

It was pretty wet out here too, which was ahem terrific timing after the excavation works in the front yard.

And that, my friends, is how you remove a fish pond from your front yard in order to create a duck pond instead.

The rain eventually gave way to some watery sunshine, and the cool temperatures in combination with the water everywhere created the most magical mist in the evening.  Yes I continue to be enchanted by this kind of thing.

It crept in across the paddocks and hung between the trees of the orchard.

It's so much easier to appreciate all this weather when inside is dry and warm with the fire roaring.

Lots of quiet indoor pursuits.  The adult members of the family don't mind a bit but the smalls tend to get a little restive with too much time inside.

Luckily today dawned like this:

Have a good week, all!

It's school holidays here which means the calendar is looking very clean and empty.  Hopefully the rain stays away or I might have to relent and allow some play-dough to darken my doorstep.  Let's all cross our fingers for sunshine...