itis, itis, itis and the post in which I do talk about the bits that bleed albeit in as delicate a manner as I possibly can. But I also whinge a lot.

So, last night Chef and I were basically up every hour. It went something like this:
12 – 12.30 – Grover feed
1.15 – 2.30 – Jasper having massive screaming tantrum fit for reasons only known to his delicate self
3am – 3.something – Grover feed
4.something – 5ish – Jasper awake again, screaming for those a few blocks away who might have missed the first show
6 – Grover feed, everyone up! Get up! The sun isn’t up but it’s a Saturday so it’s time to play!

Today Chef’s parents came and watched Felix at Auskick and came back to our place with our nephew and we did brunch – pancakes, bacon, eggs, croissants with my passionfruit butter, coffee and tea. It was just lovely and a very nice antedote to the night that had preceded it.

Anyway, Jasper has clearly been possessed by some spawn of Satan as he is in the zone of not eating, not sleeping and screaming like bats fleeing the gates of hell.
Today there was screaming, as in blood curdling pure rage screaming for a good 45 minutes before he climbed out of his cot (for the first time ever) and then promptly fell asleep on the lounge for the next three hours.
This afternoon I got some yoghurt into him and some cruskits (2) with vegemite on them. He refused dinner.
I’m not making the food thing an issue as we’ve been in this land with Felix when he was this age and I know its completely age appropriate and on top of that he’s going through a huge adjustment blah blah blah, it’s just fucked. That’s all.

Then, after I told you all to be grateful I was only talking about my boobs and not my bits, my bits have developed issues. I think its cystitis, something I have not had since.I.started.having.children., so while my memories are sketchy, I know that’s what it is. Which is also fucked. I’m drinking eleventy gagillion galons of water, bought some Cranberry juice and am trying to limit the toilet stops.
If anyone is still reading, not dry-wretching and has some good herbal or otherwise treatment suggestions, please feel free to share.
The bits that bleed otherwise heeled pretty well thanks. The small tear I had healed really quickly and while my arse is still not the same it’s getting there. I’m still bleeding though. Like the trooper I am. Dedicated all the way.
Aren’t you glad you asked (liberally distributing cyberspew bags to all and sundry).

Then, after yesterday having a couple of hours of feeling a bit flu-ey but Grover feeding like a champ, I thought I had the dreaded pervasive threat of mastitis under control. But tonight, from complete left fielf, my right boob has packed it in and the left is not much better. I have no idea what a darning needle looks like, but I have an image on quite a long thin needle. Regardless, it feels like that is what is being driven up through my nipple into the core of my soul. I’m all shivery and achey and generally pissed off. So you know, that’s pretty fucked as well.
I’m doing the frozen peas at the moment with my breastfeeding tea – which I’m hoping will also help with the cystitis – and have the wheat bags ready to heat for application at the next feed.

Scintillating read, aren’t I.

Oh, and I’m really bloated with severe stomach cramps, which it seems have befallen Jasper and Grover too as they have just had a scream fest for about two hours. Noice. Diffrent. Unyusule.

Not that any of you could possibly feel like eating now, in my albeit stilted ode to Nigella, I made her slow roasted chicken w/ lemons and garlic tonight after Badger had suggested it when I made her roasted chicken and sausages. Because I’m tired, cranky and feel like utter shit, I can’t be bothered to type up the recipe or show you the pics of it. So go visit Badger for how to do it and indeed, make your own damn dinner.

EUGH.