Aftermirth

If you think about it, Melbourne is on the east side of Australia.  Though if I’m honest, I’m always looking for ways to incorporate Jeffersons’ references into my life.

In case that previous sentence didn’t spell it out for you (how could it?), we’re moving to MELBOURNE.  For those of you who think I already live in Australia, you’re wrong.  I live in New Zealand.  There’s a difference.

Here’s Ruby looking up flights to Melbourne.

My husband has decided to go back to school and was accepted into a programme in Melbourne.  So in 8 weeks we’re off to throw another shrimp on the barbie!  Yes, I’m hoping all Australians are exactly like the stereotype.  If I hadn’t already named Ruby Ruby, I would’ve named her Bindy*.

The idea of packing up and moving to a new place makes me feel excited terrified thrilled scared stressed a lot of things.  Guess there’s not much I can do now but put my head down and get a bajillion things done between now and February.  

Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted on my progress.  Blogging is therapeutic, and I’ll need somewhere to go to vent.  I pulled enough of my hair out after Ruby was born.

*not really

My friend Emma lives in Featherston in a cute, old house.  She and her betrothed are heading up north for the holidays and invited friends to stay at their place while they’re gone.  Uh YES PLEASE.

So on Christmas Eve after Chris finishes work, we’ll pack up the Rubes and other essential items and head over the Rimutakas for a few days of relaxation, which will include:

• leisurely walks around Featherston, population 2,340
• bush walks in the Rimutakas
• splashing in the local swimming hole
• slow (but not too slow) drives to nearby towns
• eating
• entertaining Ruby
• reading
• internetting
• general lounging
• sleeping (take note Ruby)

The last time I was in Featherston I noticed they had a small supermarket, a fish and chip shop, a cafe, a liquor store and a shop that sells wiccan supplies and all things to do with witchcraft.  What more could you ask for?

Will post pics of my new broom in a future post.

I am hopeful Ruby will be in a better mood on Christmas this year.

When Ruby was born Chris and I immediately and strangely assigned her the same term of affection we have for each other (honey and bunny, respectively).  What a lovely coincidence to learn 2011 was the year of the rabbit!

On a side note: We also have a series of nicknames for her: booby, rubes, rubix cube, rubester, rubicon, ruru (Maori for ‘morepork’ which is a kind of kiwi owl), hey you, no-no-no, stop-stop-stop, etc.

In the spirit of all the bloggers out there (I’m looking at you Merrilee) who do those year-in-review blogposts, here’s mine!

I always knew 2011 would be a pretty massive year.  In retrospect it was a cakewalk compared to last year.  I like to refer to 2010 as the year we became irreversibly domesticated.

In 2010:

• We rang in the new year in Beijing
• We found out I was pregnant
• We bought a house
• In my 2nd month of pregnancy (when I felt the most morning sickness) I co-produced and performed in a comedy show, Laugh Experiences with two comedian-lady-friends.
• In my 4th month of pregnancy, I performed in two more comedy shows with even more comedian-lady-friends (Laugh Experiences and Improv Divas)
• Chris and I went on holiday to Australia.  It was our last big hurrah so to speak before “she” got here.
• I gave birth to you know who and spent the remainder of 2010 climbing up the steepest learning curve in my life (I’m proud to say we all survived!)

If 2010 was a year of big life changes, 2011 was the year we settled into those changes.

In 2011:

• Chris and I became dual citizens (for those intellectually challenged that’s Kiwi and American)
• I made my return to the stage with a cameo as the “Fairy Godmother of Motherhood” in my friend Jen‘s first solo show “How’s Wife?”
• Ruby made her first trip to America to charm the socks off of everyone she met (not by herself)
• Chris and I survived over 9 flights and 50 hours of flying with an infant
• Ruby survived her first year of life
• I went back to work
• Chris decided it was time to go back to uni and began applying to schools…in Melbourne (still waiting to hear back)

So if 2011 was the year of settling into big life changes, 2012 promises to be the year of unsettling into even more big life changes.

I have no idea!

I’ve never been a good listener.

I’m reminded of  this not only when my husband sighs and abandons his conversation with me when it becomes apparent I’d rather check my twitter feed than listen to the words coming out of his mouth.  But also when I notice other parents talking about their precious babies’ first words.  They seem to know exactly which word was the first uttered by their darling offspring.

I have no idea what Ruby’s first word is.  I don’t even know if she’s said a real word yet.

She’s said mamamama and dadadada for a long time, but apparently that’s just noise-making that parents misinterpret as “Mom” and “Dad” (we’re so self-centred!).  Sometimes I think her first word might’ve been “kitty”.  A few weeks ago she ran around yelling “COCK COCK COCK”.  Was that her first word? Gosh I hope not.

I may be an appalling listener, but it isn’t so easy to tell what’s a word and what’s not a word.  I thought it would be obvious.  I expected her to wake up one day, look straight into my eyes and say something totally intelligible.  Like “Greetings mother”.

Her latest “words” include what sounds like “I die I die” when she’s tired or upset and “Happy happy” when she’s in a good mood.  I have no idea if that’s what she’s really saying, so for now I’ll assume it is.

I know you’re supposed to think of your child as their own, independent person with a unique personality blahblahblah.  But honestly I spend most of my time filtering my child’s physical features, personality and actions into two categories:  That’s sooo ME and That’s sooo MY HUSBAND.

Babies are the ultimate remix.

In case you’re wondering, here’s the breakdown so far:

Hair – me

Eyes – him (by way of his mother)

Nose – me

Mouth – me

Scowl – me (by way of my mother)

Chin – him (by way of his father)

Ears – one of each (I’m serious)

Hands and feet – him

Gut – me

Smile – me

Curiosity – him

Laid-backness – him

Ambition – me

Insomnia – him

Addiction to technology – me

Appetite – me

Sense of adventure – him

Weirdness – both

Love of the sea – him

Impatience – me

Stubbornness – all me

The other day a woman in a cafe told me Ruby was gorgeous.  ”Oh thank you!” I responded.  Then she said, “She has the most gorgeous eyes!”.  I sighed, “You can thank her father for those.”

My Her scowl

Techno-Ruby

I feel like such a terrible mother for not posting more often.

But really, if you think about it, I’m an amazing mother for being so committed to my baby that I don’t even take a few minutes away from her to write a blogpost. See what I just did there?

Ruby turned 11/12ths of 1 year yesterday. Time sure flies when you’re sleep deprived having fun.  She’s a bundle of energy, regardless of whether it’s day or night.  I’m glad I’m not holding my breath until she sleeps through the night.  I’d have been dead ages ago.

Here is Ruby’s 11 month photo.  As you can see she has a glowing personality:

Granted, the photo was taken in the evening, Ruby’s least favourite time of day (a trait she inherited from me, no doubt).

We don’t have any big plans for her 1st birthday.  Lucky for us, she’s still too oblivious to care.  I’m taking advantage of that for as long as possible!  Besides, I think 1st birthdays should be less of a celebration for the baby and more of a giant sigh of relief for the parents.  ”We did it!  We kept her alive! For an entire year!”  (Just so you don’t think I’m some kind of cruel, uncaring mother, we are celebrating Ruby’s birthday as part of our antenatal classes group birthday party.)

It sure has been a while since my last post. I like to think the reason has something to do with Ruby, but the truth is I’m lazy. And Ruby’s changing so much all the time that sometimes I feel so overwhelmed with things to write that I get blogpost-paralysis ™. If I updated this blog everytime Ruby updated, I’d probably be too busy writing to actually raise my child.

I am however happy to report that even if I don’t write about Ruby, she does continue to exist. And apparently if you feed them regularly, they grow!!

I guess the big news is that I’m going back to work soon. I’m not entirely devastated to be leaving her to return to the workforce because it’s only part-time, and she’ll be in very capable hands (we’ll see…dad!). I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to have some one-on-one time with her father. It’ll make it a lot easier for her to wrap him around her little finger without me in the way.

For those of you wondering what Ruby looks like when she naps, here ya go:

This week has been full of good Ruby moments and umm.. not so good Ruby moments.

Highlights

Ruby “Mashed potato” Hughes expressed her pleasure (or displeasure, depending on how you interpret the screams) for mashed potatoes. (Warning: Ruby is LOUD, so adjust your volume accordingly):

The weather was terrible on Sunday, so we cuddled up in the bed and tried to keep Ruby entertained. Apparently this involved Chris jumping up and down on the bed yelling “Peepo! Peepo!”. Evidence here:

Lowpoints

Ruby is teething.

We all got colds.

And this morning I had quite a shituation on my hands. Ruby’s never been much of a poo-out-her-pants-and-down-her-leg-then-wipe-her-hands-in-it-then-accidentally-wipe-your-own-hands-in-it-then-have-to-undress-her-in-the-bathtub-then-hold-her-disgusting-naked-poo-covered-body-under-the-warm-shower-to-get-it-all-off kind of girl.

Now she is. There is no video for this, for VERY good reason.

Yesterday was Ruby’s half-birthday. Happy .5 Ruby!!!

Time plays funny tricks on new parents. I can’t remember what life was like before Ruby came along, and I also can’t believe how quickly the past six months have flown by. It doesn’t make sense.

You can see month-by-month comparison pics of the Rubester in the Growing Ruby photo set on Flickr. I’m happy to report she looks A LOT happier in her six month photo than she did in her one month photo (boy, she did NOT look impressed!):

“Mom, I am not a performing monkey”

“Mom, I am a performing monkey”

Like sands through a fire hose, so are the days of our lives.