The garden

Over the last three years our poor vegetable garden has been abandoned. In 2011 I was pregnant, worked full time and we had just started building our huge extension. A year later we had a 6 month old baby, I was back at work and The Husband still spend every available minute building. Last year, well, I was pregnant again and Little Brother was born in May. 

So now our vegetable garden looks like this.  

Abandoned, overgrown, messy. 

It's a disgrace. 

It was lovely to see those veggies grow in our garden; potatoes, tomatoes, cucumber, pumpkin, courgette, beans, onions, leeks, sweetcorn, rhubarb. We had it all. 
There was also some fruit; strawberries, raspberries, black berries, gooseberries, apples, plums. 
Those apples and plums seem to be the only thing we have left. 

The good news is that our house is almost, almost completely finished. And so we can make time for the garden again. 
It is going to take a lot of clearing, weeding, digging and probably cursing. But it'll be worth it. 
 

Monday morning

Sitting at the table.
Doing some writing and menu planning.
While Little Brother is enjoying chunks of fresh pineapple.
We're battling colds and coughs and snot and fevers in this house.
And yes he's wearing a tea towel as I was too lazy to go upstairs to get a bib.
That's life.

It gets easier

It must be one of the most annoying statements a mother with a small baby will ever hear. It comes from mothers with slightly older babies. Even as much as a month seems to 'allow' them to tell you this. 

But really: when you're in the middle of it (whatever 'it' may be) being told it'll get easier doesn't help. It actually makes it worse. Because what will be better in a few weeks time doesn't help you now. 

Going shopping with the two boys was something I avoided. We don't have a double buggy so Big Brother would be on the buggy board and Little Brother in the buggy. But Big Brother is bound to get tired/bored/jealous/moody/hungry and refuses to stay on te board. So you carry a 2,5 year old while pushing the baby in the buggy. Fun, in the middle of a shopping centre. 

But let's face it: if I want these kids to wear clothes that fit and don't have holes in them I need to get out and get them some. So we did. 

I decided not to be too ambitious and made a very small list of things to get and do. 

And really, if you ignore the part where the kids were inside the locked up car and I was outside the car, it all went very well. Big Brother decided to love the buggy board, modelled the cardigan I was thinking of getting him, picked up the socks Little Brother kept taking of and dropping on the floor and said a very nice 'thankyouwel' (a combination of thank you and its Dutch translation dankjewel) when the man at the cafe handed him a biscuit. 

So. 

I'm sorry to say it. 

And never thought I would. 

But. 

It gets easier. 

Just never give your toddler the car keys when you're getting the buggy out of the car. Because he might just lock himself and his brother in the car. 

The picture in my head vs reality

I had this lovely picture in my head of how tonight would go. 

You see, the boys had been really good all day. Little Brother had a great night and two long naps today. He was in flying form. Big Brother had an early start, but played well all day. On his own and with his brother. 

So tonight the boys would go to bed, The Husband would go to mountain rescue training and I would have time to write a blog, do some research on various subjects and I would crochet a little gift for my friend's baby. 

Well. 

The reality was that I forgot The Husband had to leave the house before seven. Which meant I had to put Big Brother to bed as well. So when Little Brother finally settled, after a bedtime bottle battle I had to race downstairs so The Husband could leave. Big Brother took 45 minutes to settle and just as I left his room little Brother started crying again. I burped, rocked, sang, patted, fed and after 40 minutes he was quiet. 

I then realised the dogs needed feeding. And when I finally sat down with a cup of tea Little Brother started again. 

All in all:

Bedtime took just over TWO HOURS.  

I managed 20 minutes of research. 

No crochet. 

I'm squeezing out this post with my eyes wanting to close. 

And. My tea was cold, again. 

One Euro

It is November again which means it's time for the yearly fundraising event for The Husband's Mountain Rescue Team. 

For three years I was part of the organisation; endless night sending countless emails, filling in spreadsheets, planning teams and buses and keeping an eye on the finances.I never dared to even attempt to count the hours The Husband and I spend on this event. So last year I realised: this isn't possible in 2013. I mean, let's be honest; toddler + baby + house + life = busy. Too busy to also spend weeks working on this event. I wouldn't be able to give the commitment it needs, the commitment I think it needs. And so I announced 2012 was my last year. That was a shock to the system, both mine and the remaining organiser's. But I received a lovely bunch of flowers and a Dundrum gift card and the decision was final. 

But I kept thinking about it. 

'Maybe I can just give it a go?'

'What if there would be two of us?'

No no no. 

It was just a bad idea. 

And the only way I wouldn't be tempted again was to sign up as a participant. 

And so I did. 

I roped two brothers-in-law and some friends in and registered my team. 

Saturday I will be walking 24,5 kilometers in the Wicklow Mountains, in the dark!

So, on the off chance you might have one Euro to spare this week, just one Euro.

Please click here and donate that one Euro. 

Cause every little helps when it comes to saving lives.

I couldn't

My sister came over for a few days.
It was lovely; we chatted, drank tea, went shopping, watched movies.
Normal sister-stuff. It's those things you miss when you live in different countries.

My sister is pregnant.
Which is amazing!
And I'm thrilled to become a real-real aunty for the first time.
(Yes I have a niece and nephew on The Husband's side, but this is real-real.)

So I went shopping with my pregnant sister.
She bought baby-stuff; some lovely little newborn vests, sleepsuits, a cardigan, tiny bibs and a cute hat.
She's also been sending me photos of the nursery they've chosen, the highchair they like, links to the daycare they are looking at and the pram mam and dad are buying them. 
For the baby in her tummy that will be born in about 24 weeks time.

I didn't do that stuff.
I couldn't.
My heart and head didn't allow me.

I lost three babies before getting pregnant with Big Brother.
And with those babies I lost the trust in my body.
The trust in my body, that it would do what it was, allegedly, designed to do.
It failed me, over and over and over again.
Why would it work out this time?
Why would it be different?

But as the weeks passed that baby stuck.
And grew.
And the realisaton that we might just be bringing this baby home started to come.
So we had to get ready.

I can still remember the first thing I bought for Big Brother: five vests, in Dunnes, with Humpty Dumpty on them.
I cried. In the shop. In the car. And at home.
I also cried when I bought the first pack of nappies.
There were a lot of tears.

I didn't enjoy my pregnancies. Not Big Brother's pregnancy and not Little Brother's pregnancy.
It was survival.
Hoping, but no allowing yourself too much hope.
Trying to look ahead, but not too far.
One day at a time.
I wasn't happy until I held that baby.

Both boys were born full term, healthy, happy, doing great.
So I can't complain. I shouldn't complain.

But sometimes it hurts.
That I couldn't be as thrilled about a baby in my tummy as my sister is.
That I couldn't get excited about cribs and cots and baby baths and changing tables and nursery colors and nappy bags.
That I couldn't buy lovely little newborn vests, sleepsuits, a cardigan, tiny bibs and a cute hat.
For a baby that would be born 24 weeks later. 

Daily life

Playing is important. 

So is drinking milk. 

Trying to do it at the same time is just not going to work out when you're two years of age. 

The views around here, they're just beautiful. Can't wait for the trees to get those Autumn colors. 

Big Brother enjoys a bit of painting every now and then. And of course Little Brother wants to watch. What better place to sit than on top of the table? 

Dublin Zoo; what's not to love?

Most popular animals? Giraffes, tigers and elephants! 

Autumn's coming!

We went looking for pine comes. Found some but only small ones. I guess we'll have to try again next week.