Hiya! It’s me and Mister C…

Hello… It’s us again. Apologies for the late blog post, I know many of you have been waiting wanting more, more, MORE! I usually try and get one done Wednesday and Sunday each week. However, last night we had our second daughter’s special school presentation (thank-you everyone); Mister C’s big sister won two awards and was elected to be a ‘prefect’ for the big year SIX next year! Well done our Flossy (and to the other students who won awards and positions next year)… Also, I really hope I didn’t put you off our last blog with all the puss and surgery (bit too much really, I know). Mind you, there must be some bad stuff (just a little) to get through in order to enjoy the good things in any life, don’t you think?

Well, moving right along. Time flies when your busy having fun and raising a noisy baby and two beautiful daughters. I had nearly forgotten my maternity leave was just about to end, and then I was to have annual leave for another month from work. I was lucky to have had long service leave first, then mat leave, then some annual leave I had to use up from the previous year. It is always tough being away from young children for any length of time, especially being the jersey cow that I was (mind you the right feeding ‘boob’ had just about given up the ghost, maybe from too much overuse!). Fortunate to have had nearly fourteen months off to raise Baby C without the worry of work, it was hard to know how I was going to fit it back in (let alone continue with my studies too). The thought of being away for nearly ten hours with a half hour commute both ways, and work a full shift of eight and half hours at the hospital; made my mind started whirling with all the excuses under the sun, why SHOULD I go back to work? It made a long day, let alone having no guarantee that I was going to get much sleep, any more than four hours I had been getting on average at the time. All this negative thinking, I had begun to fret…

Again, I was lucky my husband worked full-time at a very good job and stable level, where he also earned a good income. This enabled me to study and work part-time, not work full-time like some families had to (I know I am super fortunate and thankful). I can however, understand why some mothers don’t go back to work. For me, the quandary was I really enjoyed my work and career. It also gave me an outlet to be myself too- a nurse (enrolled at that time before finishing my degree), and to spend quality time with other adults (including patients, which I enjoyed) and friends (not that I didn’t enjoy spending time with the children, it’s just different right?).

So, after having another DMC (deep meaningful conversation) with the husband, we decided to think about the idea of putting Mister C in day-care. This was not new to us, after having both girls in other great centres one to two days per week before starting school. Luckily for us we had (and still do-hiya lovelies!) some wonderful close friends who work in the child care industry; where a vacancy had come up to be able to transfer our second daughter to another centre closer to home, and to also put Mister C in on the same day to start. Mister C was a couple of weeks shy of his first birthday, and had coped with someone else caring for him earlier (with the brief nanny episode-just wasn’t meant to be). Having his big sister there too, also eased our mind.

As you can imagine these next steps in going back to work and Mister C starting day-care, were stressful and worrisome for me. My husband was very protective of Mister C (still is), where he needed to check the centre out thoroughly to ease his mind, I guess for both of us knowing he was going to be OKAY without us. As parents we want the best for our children, not wanting to make wrong decisions, or do things that might affect them or harm them in anyway is naturally paramount. My husband reminded me that Mister C was standing without aid of anything to lean on at that time, which worried him with Mister C being in a new environment. The staff at the centre showed us around, and reassured him (and me) that it was all safe. Day-care started before I went back to work (one day a week), Mister C went for half a day for the first few times, then went for a day (usually 930 am to 245 pm), so I could pick him and second daughter up first, then get our eldest from school (Mister C was one of those few babies who rarely slept in the car, making it tricky to get errands done around his sleep routine…). I went back to work mid to end December every second weekend for several months, mainly due to Uni commitments (and while Uni was on break) and after school activities for the girls.

I recall husband saying a few weeks later, “This morning for the first time I dropped Mister C (and sister) off at the centre, as soon as I handed him to one of the staff, he started crying and didn’t want me to leave him, it just broke my heart”… A week or so later Mister C was more settled, and had a mainly happy time, adjusting into the day-care routine fairly well. I remember having to give the staff an old t-shirt of mine to help settle Mister C down for his sleep. The smell of it must have helped him drift off to sleep well (even though it probably smelt YUK with old liquid gold on it!). Unfortunately, as soon as life settled down, things became worse for Mister C; his ‘raspberries’ flared up again several times, and he ended up missing more days than actually being at the centre. More abs later to soothe that nasty throat, led me to arrange a specialist ENT (ears, nose and throat) doctor in town to review Mister C’s ongoing problems. More on that story later…

Through all these tiring changes, we did manage to get away for a happy (and busy) family trip down the coast we call ‘Mollybook’ (Mollymook in NSW- hello all!) before I started back at work. The name ‘Mollybook’ came about from our first daughter, who developed a stutter and slight lisp when young; she couldn’t say Mollymook without having trouble. The word stuck and it’s been ‘Mollybook’ ever since. It was to be Mister C’s first trip to see the ocean, a place very special and dear to my heart (being a Pisces and all), and eventually husband’s and the girls. We had hoped Mister C would enjoy his first experience, unlike the girls who both cried at the sound and sight of the vast space of water near them… HOORAY! Husband and I were both relieved, Mister C giggled then laughed at the ocean, had a wonderful time splashing with our help in the warm salty water. We found out just how much he loved the warm sand (still to this day), so different to the girls, who could barely step on the sand without crying for help… I recall it was a lovely trip away, one of the memorable ones we had had in years…

A word from Mister C…

Mister C lost two of his front teeth in the space of two days a few months back. There were many conversations with Mister C about the Tooth Fairy… “The Tooth Fairy is exciting”, said Mister C. “Does she really exist though?” “Of course!” I said. “What if I don’t get anything under my pillow? I do love stones and rocks you know, but gold coins more so! What are teeth made from?” ” Well”, laughed Daddy, ” They are porcelain like the toilet bowl!” “WHAT?!” said Mister C. “I don’t think so”, I giggled. “It’s called enamel, teeth are very strong, stronger than wood, metal and rocks.”… “Oh!”, sighed Mister C. “So, when we get buried in the ground, our teeth will never rot like the rest of us!”(Please note: certainly no disrespect to our dearly departed).

Stay tuned…

For lots more Mister C younger years, the big surgery day looms, the multitude of RUNNING and talking from our young man and our plans to move to another state (WHAT THE? husband yelped)…