Influx

I just found this draft post from a long time ago, so I'll post it. None of it is true any more, but here it is anyway.


One Ersvaer, two Ersvaers, a housefull of Ersvaers (well three actually). Even though one of them is an Ersvaer's daughter, and another is not Ersvaerish at all.

Trudi's cousin Heidi and her friend Margarethe are on their World Tour. They've Done Bali, they've Done Merimbula, and they've Done a little bit of northern Tassie. Now they are Doing Preston. A wise choice.

They are 19 I think, and very tanned, because they are holidaying Scandinavians. Hazel and Ivy are really really into their new audience. Hazel brings treasures to them (plastic cars, a wooden letter Q, a terrible little monkey doll). Ivy jigs and grins.

This morning Trudi's brother Scott came, to stay tonight. He is in Melbourne for a job that has fallen though due to a company entering liquidation. So that must be really relaxing for him.

The visitors are all off at IKEA, so I suppose they all feel that they have been bad and need to do some penance.

Wonky feet

Ivy's feet are still a bit wonky.

My Alexander Technique teacher Jane met the girls yesterday, and she agreed that Ivy is a little wonky in her gait. Jane said that their shoes were awful, and I must say she was right. Terrible broken sloppy soft-sole sandshoes. So the old broken shoes are in the bin, and I bought new shoes today.

Jane liked that Ivy climbed up on the play equipment at the park, and tottered around on the top of things. All good practice as she learns to use her body.

Jane also suggested dance or movement classes, and I will vaguely investigate this idea. However, I'm over the whole one-mummy-with-two-toddlers-at-a-class. The music class was such a trial, and I'm not keen to embark on a new burdensome event. I do not like being the only one there with twins. I don't like hearing "Oh I don't know how you do it" and "My you have your hands full" and "I could never do what you do" and the rest of it. I also don't like forcing the girls (but Hazel in particular) to conform to the class's requirements. She's a bit of a free spirit is Hazel, and she resists attempts to get her to do what the rest of the group is doing. So I hate the idea of more fricken classes, but there you go. Maybe this is just because I am a tired grump this week.

Today's shoe-buying went well. We visited Bilby Shoes, which is run by David the Pedorthist. Last time we visited, he said to keep the girls barefoot or in soft-sole shoes for a while longer, so we did. He pointed out some aspects of the girls' gait that showed that they were too little. The only thing I can remember is that they both still walked with their arms bent and hands up. Now they don't do that any more, so he was happy to find proper shoes for them.

Trudi and I think Hazel walks just fine. David agreed and said she is very strong. I would expect she would be - she practiced standing for nearly a year before she walked!

Ivy is slightly wonky though. Her left foot turns out a little, and she seems a bit unsteady. When he watched her walk, David told me a bunch of things that she was doing, but I could not pick up on any of it. He is a fluent reader of gait, and I am illiterate, it turns out.

David feels there there is nothing seriously wrong, just a few small tendencies that we can do something about. Better now than later, I say! He suggested that we take her to an osteopath, so we're off to see the person he recommended, Dr DeFazio in Heidelberg, this Monday arvo. Then he got out some white sneakers, and when she walked in them, he was happy to see an improvement. That means that some of her issues do come from her feet. The osteo might unkink something in her legs or hips as well - who knows!

Hazel has the same shoes, but Ivy's feet are a little smaller, so her pair have insoles in them. Unfortunately, their new white sneakers have pink flowers and hearts, and (wait for it) the hearts light up when they walk. I mean, really.

The importance of pain

Wow. This crystallises some thoughts I've been having, and then takes it a step further:

http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/half_full/?p=1661

Ivy is a crow

Hazel's first sentence! They were being crows in the backseat on the way to the zoo (creaky-voiced Aaaaah! Aaaaah! Aaaaah!) and Hazel let rip with her first full sentence. It has a verb and a subject and everything... so proud.

Just had a visit from Alon, to talk some more about my return to work. I'm still hoping that 2 days a week is going to be OK. He's had a couple of ideas about what work I could usefully do in so few hours a week, and they both sound good to me. It remains to be seen whether his boss concurs.

I made a terrible cake that is so bad that I can't offer it to visitors, but not so bad that I need to throw it in the compost, so I have to eat it all myself. It is Apple Barm Brack, from the Nursing Mothers of Australia Cook Book. I suppose I brought it on myself. OK, I've just googled barm brack, and the photos show that what I made is how it should be. Odd.

A morning off

Trudi and the girls have just piled into the car for an early-morning zoo visit. I am knocking around the house wondering what to do. I've just put the toilet-roll holder back on the wall. Guess who hung off it long enough to rip it off... Then I'll make luch for when they all get back, and I think I then will have a cup of tea on teh couch with a book. Yum!

Trudi has changed our website, oceanbug, to require a login. We've both been feeling more and more uncomfortable with having our entire personal lives (in photos) on there for all to see, so it's now hidden behind some security. If you want a login, just let me know. Family and friends are most welcome!

This means that the photos on this blog now won't be visible to you, unless you have an oceanbug login. Bit of a nuisance, but there it is. I think I will leave it all as it is, rather than going back and removing photos. Reason: laziness.

Yesterday we visited Tatura. The girls seem very comfortable in Trix & David's house. Naomi, Tony & Gillian visited, and my mum & dad, and Grandpa came after he marched in the ANZAC Day parade in town. All in all, a very pleasant day. There's been rain in central Victoria, so the gutters were leaking and the grass and weeds were green.

New jeans

I cannot believe that I just spent $100 on a single pair of jeans. It was a laughable event, from start to finish. Society in decline, in action.

I went to Northland, which was absolutely packed with people escaping the first chill breath of autumn by nestling into the warm heart of retail. Not that anyone seemed to be particularly nestled.

The girls were napping, and I wanted time to have a massage before returning to duty as co-Mum, so I zipped into the first shop I saw that had one of those daunting walls o' jeans. Boot cut, mid rise, relaxed fit, boyfriend cut, straight leg...

Yep, boyfriend cut is actually the name of a style of pants. These are way too big and chunky, as if a girl were wearing her boyfriend's jeans.

The nice young lady who came to check on me ("How are you going in there?") laughed when I came out to show her what I had on. I'd been thinking that I should go up a size, and she said "Way too big!" and marched off for a smaller pair. I have been wearing massive jeans for a while now, out of compassion for my ridiculous twinny belly, so I'm not used to the feel of jeans that fit.

I'm sure i had something profound to say about this, but now I am tired so I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

Improving

Trudi has gone to work today, for a rest. The girls are having a huge nap (2.5 hours and counting), and I am dagging around wondering what to do with myself.

The gastro is mostly gone. The girls still have diarrhoea and I am all well again.

Hazel has said a couple more little sentences - "Door closed" and something else that I can't remember right now. Mum, do you remember?

And she's also been saying "Soon" a lot - repeating it when I've used it. The night before last, she kept saying it while Trudi was brushing her teeth ("Soon!"), and then kept on during the bedtime books. "Soon! Soon!" Once they were in bed, I said "Good night girls, sleep well. See you in the morning", as I always do. "Soon!" shouted Hazel. I managed to not laugh, and I closed the door gently.

Ivy sad

Another sentence from Hazel yesterday. When one girl is crying and I am listening to her, sometimes the other girls wants my attention. When that happens, I say that Ivy is sad, and I need to listen to her right now, and we will play or read or whatever, when she is finished. Yesterday Ivy fell off a new play item in the backyard (hint: it has a slide attached), and clonked her head, so of course she cried and I listened. It's a marvellous thing, this listening. After about five minutes of howling, her crying turned to weeping, and then she showed me where it hurt (the back of her head), then where it happened (she fell off a bench in the new cubby). I described what I thought might have happened, she listened to my point of view, and off she went, calm and happy. In the middle of the crying, though, Hazel turned around, pointed to Ivy, and said "Ivy sad". She was right.

We are all a bit sad at the moment. On Thursday night I felt a bit average, and ended up with vomiting and diarrhoea all night. The girls threw up too, for hours in the middle of the night. Miraculously, Trudi did not succumb. She put on a load of washing at midnight, and the washing machine has been going ever since.

On Friday I was a mess - all wafty and miserable. I lay on the couch for much of the day. The girls have reverted to having two naps a day, and so did I. Yesterday I was heaps better, and the girls seemed to be improving too. They played on their new cubby and slide! This tired them out, and in the late afternoon, Hazel sat on the couch in a miserable pile, and said quietly "Sad". She was right.

But last night Hazel threw up her bedtime bottle, and Ivy threw up a couple of times in the night. They are so wiped out that they are sleeping through the night without a peep, except for the vomiting.

This morning both girls were pale and listless. They drank water, and then immediately went back to sleep. When they woke again - more miserable listlessness.

So we all went in to Emergency at the Austin, which is only 5 minutes drive away. The paediatric nurse barked and seemed scary at first, but ended up being very pleasant and solicitous. The girls obediently sucked on the frozen orange-flavoured electrolyte solution, and they ate a little anti-nausea tablet each. We came home with the advice to not worry about food, just water and electrolytes.

All day, the girls slept, cried, shat, slept more, slept, drank orange stuff, and slept. An hour ago, they both got up, and demanded "dikidikidikidikidiki", which is a bickie. Since then they have each demolished a handful of dry crackers, and suddenly seem to be not terribly ill. Hazel walked for the first time all day, and gave a bickie to the toy monkey, and figured out how the dustpan and brush work. Ivy smiled and ate bickies.

Now Trudi is out walking the girls around the block in the pram, and I am having a rest. This has probably been Trudi's worst birthday weekend ever. Because I have been ill, I've had some rests, but she's been on the go the whole time. I'd better go appreciate my rest, and actually rest.