36 weeks

Last night I had so many tightenings, so much low abdomen period-like pain, I went to bed really thinking, ‘good grief, ‘this’ could happen tonight’. Thankfully it all settled down, but the Braxton Hicks now roll around for at least one an hour, if not three of four. Plus, I think the kid is getting cramped and trying to stretch out in a straight line, as the pressure on my ribcage and lungs is such that sucking in big mouthfuls of air can make ‘it’ almost fit in either anger at the intrusion on its space or the massive rush of oxygen finally getting around my whole body.

In light of the fact that as of yesterday I officially have a month to go, and spurred on by Bec’s delightful piece on the obsession we all have with our firstborn (and none of the ‘god it’s annoying’ sentiment I would have laden it with) I thought I might jot down a few of the idiosyncracies of the existing Berry Boys before they are joined by yet another sibling…
– Oscar has THE worst circulation in the world. Permanently cold hands and feet. This is the child that could be buried under doonas, blankets, in flannelette pjs, with a singlet on and bed socks and still wake up as cold as an icicle.
– Felix came out at about 100 degrees, sweated as a newborn and still, in the height of winter, will come home from school, remove all clothing, don a delightful pair of navy polyester short shorts and happily get on with his life.
– Both of them are pathologically obsessed with the tone of my voice. I know this comes from the horror PND years when I was simply a harridan, a teary mess, a frighteningly angry mummy and someone to be approached with care. This still kills me. So if my tone is the slightest bit tense, cross, fed-up, frustrated, cranky or angry – they come at me with cuddles, from Oscar – kisses of apology, from Felix – “I love you Mummy” or “You’re as beautiful as a swan, princess and a unicorn” (normally its just a swan and a princess).
– Both of them love order, structure and routine – I am so proud.
– Tonight, I made a Vietnamese shredded chicken salad w/ poached chicken, mint, coriander, basil, limejuice, fish sauce etc – and they gobbled it up. Once again, I am so proud.
– Their favourite food is ice cream with strawberry and chocolate topping. If Oscar had the choice, he’d choose chocolate, if Felix had the choice, he’d choose potato chips.
– Felix LOVES Transformers, The Suite Life (a show I believe should be banned for its lameness) and yesterday told me his favourite singer is Jesse whatshisname. The first request for a Tamagotchi also came my way. His favourite show is The Simpsons. He’s been answering the phone, ‘hello, Bart Simson (sic) speaking’ for months.
– Oscar loves anything with karate and shooting in it. His favourite shows are Kim Possible and Lilo & Stitch. He also loves The Simpsons. He hates The Suite Life and I so understand.
– Oscar is early to bed, early to rise. Felix is late to bed, early to rise incase he misses out on anything and then tired and cranky all day.
– Felix loves building and creating things, playing with his super hero characters, building perfectly symetrical castles out of blocks and rockets out of lego. He will say, ‘I just need some quiet time on my own’.
– Oscar loves pottering around, going for walks – anywhere, and having other people play/entertain with him. At the moment, the fixation is on balls of any size and shape.
– Oscar loves sleeping up at Grandmama’s or at Nana and Grandpa’s. Felix is a complete homebody and hates sleeping anywhere except his own bed. He was anxious about camping because he thought he’d a) be sleeping outside, b) with strangers and c) without any light. You can imagine his relief when we explained we, a family, would be sleeping in a tent, that he’d be closer to us that he is at home and that we were taking quite a supply of torches.
– Neither of them will tolerate a bandaid, although Felix is marginally improved with the ones that have Yu-Gi-Oh! characters on them. Oscar may well have had a limb severed if a bandaid is administered.
– Both boys have had fingers slammed savegely in doors that have required surgery to rebuild the nail bed. By the end of recovery, you could smell Felix’s bandage from the other end of the house and it sort of permeated your clothes like cigarette smoke from the pub does. Oscar’s was as pristine as when it went on.

Wow, how therapeutic is this! How boring it must be to all of you!