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tacomonkey and I are very happy to announce that Jess is just shy of thirteen weeks pregnant. She's due mid-August, and according to the scan on Saturday, not having a puppy or a lizard or twins.

And now, a brief, pre-emptive FAQ. Or, at least the answers.

1) No, Liz and I have not broken up. This year is our 20th anniversary. We are all in the same house. It is pretty nice.

2) Yes, it was planned, over about 18 months

3) Jess has felt a bit sick, and randomly fallen asleep, and cannot remember how many fingers people have and once left her glasses in the fridge and the cheese in the vegetable crisper. Other than that, things have gone pretty ok.

4) the baby appears to be, as almost all of them are, impersonating Alfred Hitchcock. It has the right number of organs and limbsand such for a baby this old.

5) Liz is excited.

6) Hamish is excited. Even after we explained that not all babies go on the UV grill.

7) Kieran would like someone to read the hungry caterpillar, or put on some more Ben and Holly.

8) Tim has not threatened to murder us.

9) I am neither charismatic nor a cult leader.

10) We do not yet know what sex the baby is, but we will find out.

11) Sorry Donna about the timing with handbooks :)

12) Jess thinks "Radio Danger" or "Alison Wonderland" are good names. Damien thinks he will steal the forms when she is in a postbirth daze.

Book review: "You're all animals"

I was going to send this right to randomhouse, because I thought the feedback might be welcome, but they have no way of contacting them without signing up or giving them your facebook creditials or something, so...

So, Hamish scored this book :
aaaaand I have now taken it away.

I am sure that the author had the best of intentions when he wrote it. Something like show how you can be friends with someone even if they are different - if you can't see their differences you can grow to be friends on the basis that they have lots in common with you. Unfortunately that is not how any adult I've shown it to has read it. It reads instead like "My First Passive Xenophobia, with bonus 'I know one different person so I am not a racist' ending"

The main character moves to a new school, and everyone is different. He spurns them because they smell or they have weird arms in PE or eat weird food or just look strange. When he complains to his dad, his dad say to find someone like him on the internet, wherein he meets Frank, another kid. Each night he chats to Frank a bit more. Frank and him have lots in common, and so after a few days of talking, he meets Frank in real life. Frank turns out to be a mouse! But they are still friends, so its all ok.

"I'm not prejeudiced, I'm friends with Frank!"

At no point does any adult figure in the book say "That's really uncool, stop freaking out about people being different." Seriously. Stop it. In fact the adult's response is to turn to the internet to find a friend that isn't weird. No implicit approval of your xenophobia there, no sir!

If it had been a different kid each night on the internet, and he'd got over the whole deal of caring about difference it'd be fine. But at the end, you're still left with "oh I'm friends with frank, but not those *others*" And then you turn to the front cover again, and the whole "You're all animals" starts to take on a whole different connotation.

Day something - more adventures of Mr Wriggly

We're all home now, despite some reservations on the part of the midwife at special care on how Kieran was going to go. We've got to make sure he stays warm and that he gets some food through him. Its the latter that is proving difficult - he doesn't want to drink all the milk that he's meant to have according to the arcane formula we've been given. The first 50% disappears in five minutes, and then he drops back to sleep, and we spend 40 minutes trying to shove the rest down his throat and not his lungs.

The schedule is that we have to feed him every 3 or 4 hours, so until he shrugs off the jaundice and outgrows the premness, we're going to be a bit wrecked I think. I tried taking Hamish to playgroup and then to lunch, which was a bit of an overextend. I suspect I'll be at the "one thing per day" stage for a while.

Other than that, nothing exciting going on. At some point, I'll go through the 1000 odd photos that remain unsorted in the last 2 months.

Day 7 - the further adventures of Mr Wriggly

goldengrove indeed came home Monday afternoon, leaving Kieran in the hand of Box Hill's Special Care Nursery. They were a bit worried we'd be upset, but frankly Hamish was therefor 8 days, and tho he was a couple of days earlier, its no real surprise that Kieran is going through the same sort of process.

goldengrove is expressing milk and running it to the hospital one or two times a day, feeding him at the time if the chance comes up, but otherwise being the milk delivery service. Hopefully that won't go for too long, because the car drive is pants. Between people doing insane things, 40 zones everywhere, having to zig zag a bit and trying to find somewhere to park, its not an enjoyable drive.

In the meantime, we will be at home a bit more, and hopefully get a chance to catch up on a bit of rest before Kieran arrives fully.

Day 6 - the further adventures of Mr Wriggly

Sooo, Kieran is back in the Special Care Nursery and back into the baby oven. His jaundice came back fairly strongly, and the billibed just wasn't going to cut it. This is a bit annoying, but its almost certainly just because he's prem so we just have to wait it out and keep trying to stuff the carefully calculated four hourly feeds into his resistant gob. There is something funny about a week old baby pursing his lips tight to stop you getting a bottle in his mouth.

goldengrove, on the other hand, is too jack of being in the hospital and is agitating to come tomorrow. This means she might be home for a few days, and driving back and forth to Box Hill to deliver milk. Hopefully it won't go much longer than Wednesday (funnily enough, day 8, same length of time Hamish was in there), but we'll have to wait and see.

Some of the urge to come home is being driven by wanting to be here on Tuesday when Hamish sets off to 3 year old kinder for the first time. I'm thoroughly expecting to have to dynamite him out of the place, but the call of going and visiting the hospital might be enough.

Day 4 - further adventures of Mr Wriggly

Kieran is now off the billybed (the baby grill) and happily wriggling around a normal cot. He'd only lost 150g from birth as of yesterday and today he's had four-hourly feeds forced into him (no, not four feeds on the hour). He wakes up, eats 20ml and goes back to sleep. This is not acceptable, so we then spend 45 mins coaxing him into finishing off the meal of 60ml or so. He's not fighting it, he'd just rather be sleeping.

I'd forgotten how tricky it is to change someone who can't help, or at least knows that he'll get in trouble if he actively resists. Having stuff on various limbs makes it harder too, but its been 3.5years and I just have lost some of the knacks. I'll get lots of practice I guess, so it should come back.

Hoping that tomorrow will be the last day at Box Hill. Kinda over the trip, and definitely over having to park over a kilometer away on a hot day. goldengrove wants to come home too, getting a bit of cabinfever. Step #1 in the morning, thusly, is to put the babyseat in the car. Hopefully I remember how it goes.

Hamish went off to visit his cousins this morning, leaving the fabulous tacomonkey some down time (hopefully). He is crashed unconscious. Now I must also.