Mummy, where do babies come from?

This week at work I had a rather startling experience. When someone says “My job means I get to meet people from all walks of life” I wonder if they could actually meet as wide a selection as I get to meet at my place of employment. I'm a freelance makeup artist but for regular income I work in a pharmacy just outside the city, and you meet people not just from every walk of life, but every crawl, skip, hop and jump of life. Not a single day goes by there without some sort of interesting person popping in for a chat – we've had the usual pharmacy suspects – elderly, young parents, drug addicts etc, but because of our location we also tend to get a few “Perthonalities” from TV and football. It can get very hard not to stare at the footballer's legs while their waiting for their medication.

Most of the time they chat and even call me by name (I wear a name badge - it's not that they like me so much they remember me), we exchange pleasantries with more often than not them asking about Tricky while I pretend to not know who they are or what medications they take. Oh that's for impotence... wow!

But then you have those days when it's not the pseudo celebrities that are the highlight. Last week one of the 'regulars', Justine (not her real name) a lovely male to female transgender, came in. We normally chat about all sorts of things ranging from boring weather to the latest makeup trends. She's fantastic and bubbly, always brightening my day. But this time was different. Justine started asking me all sorts of questions about pregnancy. I didn't mind at all and started blabbering away, happy for someone who actually wanted to listen. However when the questions changed to include such gems as “How did you know you were pregnant? What symptoms should I look out for?” I nearly fell over. I didn't know how to reply!

I have absolutely no proof the Justine was delusional and asking for herself – she may have been asking on behalf of a friend or even a daughter. But that didn't matter, because in those few nanoseconds half of my brain seized up and decided not to do any more thinking. “How long did you have morning sickness for?” she asked me. I had it for around 13 weeks but do you think I could say that? With half a brain out of action all I could manage to say was “forever”. She laughed and waited for the real answer to come... it didn't. I was gobsmacked. A sudden influx of customers and I was too busy to finish our conversation – I've never been so relieved in my life!

I suppose it is better though than the intellectually disabled lady who in her own way of wishing me luck said to me at 25 weeks, “Gee, I hope you don't have a miscarriage”.

Best Nest Quest

One of the primal instincts of motherhood is upon me. I'm nesting! Or at least I'm trying to.

According to the source of all information worth knowing, Wikipedia, nesting can be characterised by a strong urge to clean and organise one's home. Its not just limited to the baby's room, women have been known to unscrew every knob on the kitchen cupboards to disinfect the screws (that's not going to happen at Casa de Glow-Less), organise the pantry in to food groups and start major renovations.

The urge to clean hit me a few weeks ago. A domestic goddess I am not, so Hubby was completely shocked to come home and find the washing done, the floors vacuumed and the kitchen shining so brightly that a welder's mask would have come in handy.

I've mentioned before that I bought a lovely second hand cot - it was a nice varnished brown but I wanted it to be white just because I'm difficult. The recent heat wave means I haven't finished the transformation yet, but when the weather cools down a bit I'll be back out there with my dust mask and sander! There is something a little bit freaky and yet a little bit provocative about a pregnant woman using power tools. And nothing says sexy like protective ear muffs.

My only problem with the whole nesting adventure is that I'm desperate to paint Tricky's room but I can't! Hubby's parents are coming to stay with us for a few days soon and its currently a guest bedroom, so they'd end up suffocating from the painting fumes for sure. A lot of people would probably think the demise of their in-laws would be a blessing, but I actually love mine. Plus when you think that she can sew and he is the world's best DIY-er, they're going to be pretty handy to have around when Tricky starts growing quickly and breaking things. I'm actually wondering if it would be bad manners to ask them to move the furniture from the now defunct guest room for me on the day they leave? “Thanks for staying, now get to work”. Too much?

As I can't do all the big jobs I want to do, I've been busying myself with other slightly pointless tasks like folding baby clothes so neatly they could be on display in Pumpkin Patch and organising them in to sizes. I even made up labels so that at a glance it could be seen that this pile is 0000 and this one is 000 – because surely taking two seconds to look at a tag would be too hard, and one should never assume that just because this pile is to the right of 0000 it is therefore 000 (even though it is – if I could alphabetise it too I would!). I'm not so daft that I don't see how incredibly stupid this is and that makes it quite frustrating. I've turned from a person interested in world events and politics (plus a bit of celebrity gossip if I'm honest) to one obsessed by pieces of material so small they could be mistaken for a hanky.

There is one positive of having to wait to transform Tricky's room in to a relaxing haven where he will sleep soundly and never ever cry (spot the delusional woman). If I finished his room tomorrow then what else would I do between now and bringing him home? In this hormone affected state I might turn in to a screw disinfecting freak! Or clean the skirting boards with a toothbrush! Oh the horror!

Did the nesting urge hit you? Did the staff at Bunnings know your name by the time you were 35 weeks? Leave a comment.

My milkshake brings all the babies to the yard

Lets for a minute ignore that my header has turned a rather lovely shade of what can only be described as 'baby poo brown' (I didn't change it, it just appeared like that and the settings page is still telling me its black background – is it the universe getting me ready for baby poo?)

What I really want to talk about is boobs. I'm slightly obsessed with them. Breastfeeding, a kilo of extra boob and now breast milk – definitely sensing a theme here.

At a dinner a few weeks ago the topic kept turning to babies as I'm the first one out of Hubby and I's closest circle of friends to be pregnant and so its all new and exciting for everyone. Since I could talk underwater about it, we're a perfect match – they actually want to listen and even ask questions! So naturally with a group of twenty-somethings talking about pregnancy and babies the burning question on everyone's lips was “Will Hubby taste the breast milk?”. No one seemed to care if I would, but WOAH a man tasting it – that warrants an entire heated debate!

At this point one of the people at our table looked quite freaked out and uncomfortable and I'm putting it down to the fact that she is six years younger than me and therefore in her mind, breasts are only used for sexy things. I admit that six years ago if anyone mentioned that those suckers were actually there to feed a baby I would probably have passed out. So while she tried to look very interested in the pattern on the table or menu or whatever, the rest of us got on with the conversation at hand.

I'll be the first to freely admit that I'm going to try it. Probably multiple times because the consistency changes during feeding (the beginning bit is apparently more watery and the end is full of fats to create buddha babies). I'm curious but I won't go as far as expressing enough to put on my cereal in the morning, because that's just creepy in my opinion.

Hubby hasn't decided yet, he's still moaning that 'the girls' aren't going to be his for much longer. I told him he shouldn't whine about that, they were never his to begin with. In fact I should be the one upset since they won't be mine any more! I'll be a milk bar on legs.

I do have one friend who managed to turn her lactating breasts in to weapons and would squirt her husband from five metres away. She is a woman of many talents. So far I'm not tempted to try that, but I'm a firm believer in the 'never say never' school of thought.

So have you or would you taste your own or your partner's breastmilk? The poll (top right hand side of the screen, below the stork picture) will be up for a week for your responses. If you're feeling brave leave a comment below on your own experience.

Hippo-critical

I'm looking very much more pregnant these days. In the mornings I have a small, compact bump but by about lunch time all my abdominal (or is that abominable) muscles have given up and Tricky kinda sticks out in to the world as if to say “Here I am!”. The problem with this is I never know from one minute to the next how big I am and when trying to squeeze past people on the train I end up brushing against them – if my belly button decides to pop out one day when this happens I'll be charged with indecent assault for sure.

But there is one completely awesome part that I'm pointing out to anyone within earshot: for the first, and most likely only time in my life, I have rock hard abs, baby!

At my most recent obstetrician appointment Tricky was measured and is one week bigger than average in size and weighs just over one kilo. Considering I was a massive heifer of a thing weighing in at just under 4.5kg (9lb 6oz) I'm starting to worry this sucker is gonna be HUGE! I've put on 5kg since being pregnant and on average the last trimester you load on another 5-7kg as all the bub is doing right now is piling on fat to get that gorgeous Michelin Man look.

I've been looking up weight distribution in pregnancy and less than 30% is baby. Which in my mind means there is 70% pure fat. But that's not true, even if my thighs do tell me differently. The average weight gain is 14.5kg and is distributed thus:

3.5kg baby

1kg placenta

2kg increased fluid volume (currently pooling to create beautiful 'cankles')

1kg uterus

1kg breast tissue (hello boys!)

2kg extra blood volume

3kg maternal fat stores (half on each thigh and bum cheek I think)

1kg amniotic fluid

Average is such an attractive prospect. This is one of those times when being above average is not really what you want. Its fine on school reports, lovely on IQ tests, and bloody brilliant on wage slips, but put it on birth weight and *shock horror* head circumference, it quickly loses its appeal. I'm sorry, that monstrous “thing” is meant to come out of where?! An elective caesarian section is looking more attractive by the day.

Budget: Mission Impossible

I now understand the pressure the treasurer feels each year when he hands down the budget. Some people will be happy, laughing all the way to the bank, whilst others will miss out and have to make each dollar stretch further. Fitting everything you want in to a budget is hard work, and I'm not sure my experience with budgeting has me in a very strong standing to be our next federal treasurer... because I've FAILED.

The initial mission was to spend $1000 on Tricky's first year of life, not including medical expenses. Well pretty soon after looking at the prices of everyday items that was blown well and truly out of the water and instead it became a budget for getting ready for Tricky's arrival, in other words preparing a nursery.

So what goes in a nursery budget? Things that I immediately thought I would not include in the budget would be baby wipes and the like that I could just put in to our weekly grocery list (I could always forgo my packet of Magnum icecreams if needed). But then I decided that I would purchase modern cloth nappies instead of disposables – now if I'd gone down the disposable path I'd probably have included them in the weekly shopping too (possibly causing us to swap to homebrand tomato sauce, even if it is like flavoured water), but the environmentalist in me means I've put the bulk purchase of cloth nappies in to the budget... and it's not liking it one bit. Kermit was right when he said it's not easy being green.

With eleven weeks to go before Tricky is born I've gone over budget by $149.50. I could have rounded that up to make it look prettier, but the psychological effect of that 50c is HUGE! I originally included maternity clothes in the budget but as I got nearer and nearer to the big $1K I took them off.

The breakdown of things I've purchased from most to least expensive:
Modern cloth nappies $240
Pram from ebay (RRP $400) $230
Drawers from ebay (RRP $300) $192.50
Cot from gumtree $150
Change table/bath from gumtree $90
Primer/paint for cot $55
Hugabubg from gumtree $50
Sheet sets x3 from BKM $47
Baby monitor from gumtree $25
Window shade $18
Jolly jumper from BKM $10
Nappy bag (RRP $90) from BKM $10
New Romper $10
Baby gym from ebay $8
Books from BKM $6
Rattle (so cute couldn't resist) $4
Shoes from BKM $3
Wall vinyls from ebay $1

All that equals a whopping $1149.50

I still need to buy paint for the walls, some shelves, a nappy tub and a car seat that will cost about a million dollars (one thing I don't want to buy second hand). I guesstimate that I'll end up spending about $1700. Failed. Big fat F on my report card.

But then again, it depends what you think failure is. Do I really think I've failed? Nah. I'm actually pretty chuffed at what I've achieved and how much I've learned. I was never in to buying second hand, but now I think I'm addicted. Why pay so much money for something that is going to be drooled on and chewed for a few weeks before Tricky either outgrows it, destroys it or becomes tired of it?

Through my searching for bargains I've come across not only some fantastic websites and markets, but some really lovely people who when hearing of my self imposed budget were more than happy to throw in a freebie! Though the kindness of friends, strangers and some excellent websites I've scored a bunch of stuff that helped the budget a lot! The freebies include:

• Pram cover worth $50 from one of Hubby's workmates
• A heap of baby and maternity clothes from a friend with a 5 month old
• About ten baby blankets and books from Yoink
• Vibrating bouncer from Gumtree
• Baby gates from a friend (who got them from another friend at his work)
• A change table mobile from the lady who sold me her baby monitor

So yes I've gone over budget and yes, I'm going to go even further over. But I've not scrimped on quality, nothing I've bought would endanger Tricky (I removed the razor wire from the bouncer and will make sure to get rid of the broken glass from the cot before I put him in it), and as a result when I stop working and again when he's born we won't have to struggle to make ends meet. It also means we can use the baby bonus on the truly important things in life, like plasma TVs.