a) Are lucky enough to have all children currently at home taking simultaneous naps

b) Said children who go to bed at a reasonable hour so that me time isn’t in the post gym beyond fatigue zone

c) The time and ability to blog at work

d) A dongle that consistently works on the commute

e) A fancy schmancy smart phone that they are adept at typing on in those snatched alone moments in the loo

f) Weekends that aren’t crammed with the quality family time missed out on during the week and a monumental to do list of home maintenance and renovationn chores

hissychick=FAIL!

(Today’s post is brought to you by my managing to make it to my fifth week back at work before having to take time off with the runny bummed daycare reject miss I two weeks post her last gastro stay home with Daddy bug….)

In other words I actually have a chance to blog.

There is so much to catch upon, so much to tell you but as I am currently caught up in a wee bit of anxious state, fuelled of course by broken sleep, the joys of silent reflux and my own wierd fear/loathing of the settling newborns to sleep groundhog day gig I think it’s best to let some pictures do the talking.

First up…my biggest girl, the gorgeous miss A. Five years old, a new bike, a pool party and starting school.  Nothing to it!

Then the ever cheeky miss E.  Enjoying swimming classes at last…but now refusing to participate at Physie even though she is excited and terribly cute.  A cheeky little ham for the camera and scarily grown up now.

Two big sisters who dote on their littlest sister.

Speaking of the little’un….she is growing so quickly in so many ways.  Here she is in a gown that was mine as a bub.

Silent reflux with difficulties settling both day and night   (it is not nice to hear your baby vomit in their sleep) and the dreaded catnapping are not making life as enjoyable as it could be. However we’ve pulled out the big guns of co sleeping, baby wearing and the swing /hammock/car capsule as well to boob as both food supply and dummy.  In addition to mr hissychick’s strangely appealing unkempt father of three beard, the dirty hippy approach is what is getting us through for now.

But enough of that.  Here are some more beautiful pics of my gorgeous last bub, little double chinned chunky thighed boombah that she is:

I can’t believe that it has taken me half a week to get this post finalised, and Immyjim has changed even more in the interim but there you go.  One day I will capture her crinkly smile for you all so that you don’t notice the fact that my prose has gone the way of my sleep, energy levels and sanity!  So much to capture, so little time.

I hear someone waking, so the other photos will have to wait.

Until next post folks….be that tomorrow or in three months time…

I know, I know, I have not been the bestest blogger of late.  It’s just that I don’t do the third trimester well.

More specifically, I don’t do the sleep deprivation from flailing around in bed like a beached whale coupled with mood swings from massive hormonal surges at all.

I have been a total bogan fishwife mother of late…and the main target of my less than desirable parenting by screeching approach has been miss A.  I am not trying to excuse myself, but let’s just say a totally bored and ready for school intelligent daughter with a sassy mouth combined with a less than patient equally hot headed mother is as explosive as…I don’t know…a nuclear warhead.  I do not exaggerate.

Miss E has learned quickly to escape my wrath by continuing to emanate the kind of adorableness that will see her exonerated from charges relating to burning down the school, even as she stands there lit match in hand.

Bertramina is not forgotten in all of this, continuing to grow and kick and stretch and hiccup, hands up around her face as if to ward off the chaotic world she will soon enter.  It is frightening to think that in around five or six weeks there will be another little person joining the hissychick family.

Guess that means I should, um, actually start washing clothes, packing hospital bags and organising a place for her to sleep, instead of buying yet another new pram and having to list several others on ebay.

Told you I was nuts.

Enough of the crazy lady rambling. Here is a belly, bits and all shot from last week to distract you from the crappy writing.

Off I go.  This hastily snatched blogging time has come at the cost of a poo filled nappy to change and newspapers strewn across my entire loungeroom. And no neither of those was me. This time.

Or seeing your own look of proud joy reflected in the face of your four year old, the same wise big sister who excitedly located her sister’s beating heart on the ulltrasound screen?

Pardon me while I fall down into a great big hormonally charged Mummy swoon.  The very same happy hormones that reign triumphant over varicose veins in unspeakable places and the exhaustion that makes an unwelcome return in the third trimester. It’s gone so fast peoples.  Next thing I know I will have to deal with the whole labour and birth thing.

(Oh yeah, we’ve moved and survived too).

FRENZY!!!

Before I go, I wanted to tell you where we are at with A.  But Julie has summed it up better than I have either the time or the writing ability to encapsulate. Enjoy.