The Contingency Plan

First time feeling grass

Chub chub feet

In the garden

My earlier post has me thinking of all the obsessive compulsive things people I know must do. And there seem to be so many of them, like...

My former managing director vacuums his floors and polishes stainless steel appliances to relax. Yes, things like his toaster, kettle, fridge, etc. Thinking of him on his kitchen floor madly polishing pots, mad like Lady Macbeth was always a little entertaining.

My Year Eight English teacher never let us use the word 'get' in a sentence. Using it would make him furious. He said there were better words we could employ, but how would that work for the classic "get f!@ked"?

My friend Chloe never leaves the house unless her bed is perfectly made. Another friend can't stand his expansive music collection being out of alphabetical order.

Harry has a method of eating everything. He never just 'digs in'. For instance, to eat a pie, he'll start with the top, then eat the sides, followed by the filling with the bottom of the pasty. If we're in a restaurant and a meal is stacked, he'll take it apart and eat a little bit of the stack in each bite.

A former Client would not accept a document unless it was labelled the way she prefers - date then a short heading. For example "05.12.24 Press Release". If you didn't, she would email it back to you with a stern and rather condescending note asking you to change it and email it back to her, copying the boss on the note. Painful petty.

A former colleague rinses every piece of garbage she has before throwing it out.

And I, besides hanging everything the same way in my closet, must take the price sticker off any book, magazine or CD I buy. I know, not as exciting as washing my trash, but oh well.

Any you care to share??

Besides cleaning out my bowels (damn stomach bug is still hanging on), I decided to attack another messy part of my life today - my wardrobe.

I had three impressive wardrobes in my hay day and they were so neat my clothes were grouped into colours and hung/folded the same way, a result from working in retail for so long. No I wasn't being obsessive/compulsive... Anyhow, Mum, Natasha and I also shared the same dress and shoe size and loved to shop so we had six wardrobes and around 200 pairs of shoes between us. I know, shameful.

But the wardrobe had a reputation! Friends would arrive in different stages of desperation and what followed was a version of 'What Not to Wear' Asian style. My generous yet tactless mother would candidly point out every flaw before raiding through the racks and creating a masterpiece.

"No! You can't wear that. Look, your hips. Too wide. Try this instead. Mm. I think will be much better."

Or.

"You should wear a long dress. See, your calves too big for a short dress, don't look good."

At first the girls would feel embarrassed and self-conscious, but within moments of hearing her "you don't have anything I don't" speech (usually said while she smoked a one milligram menthol cigarette, pulled at her own thighs and smacked her butt), all boys were banished, clothes were abandoned and we got down to business. Ahh, they were good times.

But I digress. The current state of my wardrobe is a disgrace. I think the last time I went through everything was around seven years ago. Oh the crap I have since accumulated!

So I called Mum a few days ago and asked for help. And I hate asking for help, but I knew there was no other way. I had to stop procrastinating and she'd also help with the baby. She's the only person I could ever ask this of and she loved every minute of it. I have to admit it was fun too.

Determined, I start the second round of eliminations tomorrow. The four garbage bags of unwanted clothes and one garbage bag of unwanted shoes just doesn't seem enough. Throwing things out feels sooooo good. Plus it'll help me get the house in order, ready for the cleaner...

ps. the boy and I are feeling much better today. the highlight of last night was cleaning the bathroom after he'd been sick all night. i didn't want the germs to keep travelling between us and knew i'd need to go in the morning so even though i finished at 4am, it was done and i was thankful for it.

Something I failed to mention about the weekend is that I caught a horrendous stomach virus on Friday. After feeling a little 'rumble in the Bronx' on Thursday night, I woke at around 3am Friday morning to spend the next four hours violently expelling everything in my system. I thought it was food poisoning but couldn't pinpoint what was off. I'd made every meal all and it all fresh and healthy.

But after the vomiting and diarrhoea came the fever and nausea, which stayed throughout Friday and half of Saturday. I'd never felt so ill. Luc took really great care of me but I still had to look after Hugo during his many work calls.

I realised I didn't have food poisoning tonight as Luc spent most of the night in the bathroom with loud groans and retches. Stomach viruses are extremely contagious. The poor thing. I'm now busy taking care of him and the baby and worried the cycle of sick will continue.

Nevertheless, as most women know, taking care of a sick man can always be a little entertaining and some of my small smiles have come from comments like these:

"Do you think I could have a suck of Hugo's milk? You said it contains antibiotics and if it's helped him then maybe it can help me too?"

"You fucking asshole virus," said while stumbling out of the bathroom.

And the clincher...

"Babe, can you come and check on me regularly?," asked loudly from the bedroom. "Just in case I choke on my vomit during my sleep."

With all the excitement of our new sports luxury Lexus (we got a new car on Saturday), Lucas, Hugo and I made the journey down to Thirroul* last Sunday to meet up with Luc's cousin Kaylee.

Despite the thunder and lightning, torrential rain and heavy fog, the journey was great to sleep in according to Hugo, full of great potential dangers according to me, and "just great" according to Lucas, which goes to show how much he loves that car. You can now forget wedding bells between the two of us.

Anyway, we didn't pick the best weather to travel in, but despite that we had a fantastic time and this is what we learnt:

• Kaylee + Hugo = good clucky combination, Kaylee + Reina (Kaylee housemate) + Hugo = lethal clucky combination;
• According to Lucas, the nearby town of Bulli (pronounced Bull-eye) is actually pronounced Bully. We all have it wrong. He doesn't;
• There are few restaurants open in Wollongong on a Sunday evening and absolutely none in Thirroul;
• Those few open restaurants will take you about 30 mins to locate;
• You can pretty much cover all of Wollongong in that time;
• Changing a baby's nappy in a ladies' room the size of a toilet without letting anything (including skin) touch the surrounding areas and keeping the agitated baby quiet will make you feel like a super hero;
• Luc's technical skills are greatly appreciated in a Canadian bachelor pad with little to any IT know-how that is highly dependent on the Internet. He will be deemed 'hero of the month', which he'll quietly think is just about right;
• Road rules don't apply to Thirroul so the town is full of absolute speed fiends!

BUT the best thing we learnt is that the drive must be done again in kinder weather conditions.

*For those who don't know, Thirroul (God knows how it's pronounced) is around 80km south of Sydney. The nearest city is Wollongong (pronounced wool-on-gong) is approximately 100kms south of Sydney and only a 10 min drive from Thirroul. The journey from Sydney takes around an hour and a half to accomplish.

The intense fog on our way to Thirroul

He curled around my skin, an arm wrapped around my waist, his fingers playing rhythms on my side. I pretended to sleep and indulged in the memory and sensation of life kicking and beating in my belly.

When Hugo was only weeks old I would lay him on my chest and wrap a blanket tightly around us. He loved it. He would sleep, occasionally shift, and his movements let me see how he did in my womb.

He's too big for that now.

If he had his way he would sleep on his side, chubby face squeezed directly against mine, a little hand holding onto my chin and his legs propped up on my arms. Oh it's delicious when he does, his small breath singing sweetly on my face.

Yet to that beat Luc's fingers now played a silent song down my thigh. I knew Hugo was content in his crib so I turned over to kiss and sleep face-to-face with the man I love, also content in this darkness.

"Excuse me, can I have a glass of lemonade please?" Harry asked the waiter.
"No, later," he said and walked away.

***

"Umi, look at that baby," Mum said to me in Mandarin.
"So ugly, no one's baby as beautiful as Hugo."
"Mum, you can't say that," I replied
"Huh! Ay-yah, it's true, just look," she said.
"Ok, you're right," I slowly admitted.
"Hm. Your mother is always right. Also right in wanting more grandchildren. I give you 12 months. Fourteen months is also good. Yes."
"Mum, give me some time," I said.
"You just have the baby, I'll look after it," she replied.
"Gee, that makes it all better."

***

At the end of Luc's sarcastic remark, a hearty laugh escaped from everyone's lips, with the exception of Natasha. No longer preoccupied, she suddenly turned to face him.
"What was it?" she asked.
"Nevermind, you've missed it," he said.
"That doesn't matter, tell me. I'll laugh anyway."
We all laughed again. That's typical of my sister.


***

Background: I helped my brother shop for a Valentines Day present for a girl he fancies and we brainstormed THE corniest present EVER. Harry bought her a beautiful yet funky teal coloured, soft leather-bound notebook and then filled random pages with poems, thoughts, lists, pictures, inspirations and letters he wanted to give her. He included things like shells he kept from their first date on the beach, a list of places he wanted to take her, and little quirks he has that no one would otherwise know of. I know, barf worthy, but sure to score some major points.

"Hey thanks for your help with Katie's book," Harry said.
"That's ok bro, no worries," I replied.
"I also gave her those chocolates you said, a little teddy bear and some long 70cm stemmed roses."
"Oh, very nice," I said while nodding.
"Using Tash's help, her and a friend snuck into my bedroom on Sunday night and decorated my room with heaps of pics of us, big love hearts, balloon, streamers, pictures of herself and stuff like that. I was so amazed when I walked into there."
"Oh that's so sweet, ahh young love," said my old, old jaded voice.
"Dad apparently walked by when Tash was in the bathroom and he's never met Katie or her friend before so he just stood in the doorway as they were blowing up balloons wondering who the hell they were and what they were doing.
"So naturally he just said, 'Who are you and what are you doing here?'
"Apparently Katie just flashed him a big grin, stopped blowing her balloon and said 'Valentines Day, wanna help?'
"And Dad flatly said, 'No' and just walked away."
"Typical Dad," I said.
"Yeah, typical Dad." he agreed.
"Have you guys spoken ever since you confronted him about his affairs?" I asked.
"No. He's still hiding, but I figure he can't hide forever in his own home."

***

"Umi, I have a hom bou for Hugo," Mum said.
"Mum, please, you don't have to," I said.
"Rubbish," said Luc. "Of course she has to."
"Yes, that's right. I'm his grandmother and this is his first Chinese New Year. You just take a picture of me, him and the hom bou," she snapped.
"Ok," I said. "But he hasn't mastered the art of gripping anything yet."
As soon as that sentence escaped my lips, my son betrayed my words and held onto his first object - a little red envelope filled with money.
"Oh no!" I gasped.
"Haha, good boy," said Lucas. "Daddy's taught you well."

***

"Excuse me, can I have a glass of orange juice?" Harry later asked a waiter.
"No! I give you lemonade," he firmly replied.
"Ok then."

***

Today was the last day of the Chinese New Year - may this one bring you all good fortune!

xx

The infamous picture. He later held the envelope briefly without any help...

I've been trying to create an archive of pictures but don't want a big line of links to individual photos as most of them are grouped under an event or theme.

So I've created a list of entries with pics that can be used along with the archive links. Hopefully this won't be too frustrating.

Please let me know if you think of a better way.

Thanks!

From the most recent:
Birthday highlights from 2005, April 20
A day in the life of a punk baby, April 1
Baby gives dummy the thumbs up, March 18
Hugo at four months old, March 10
Sunset in Sydney, March 7
Feet in the grass, Feb 28
Road trip, Feb 23
Conversations from our family yum cha meal, Feb 20
From misery to happiness, Feb 15
Already two months old, Jan 6
Fifty years and counting, Jan 2
Family buzz, bubbly and beautiful big bangs, Jan 1
Milieu, Dec 21
Happy one month Hugo, Dec 10

At three months old Hugo's starting to express his likes and dislikes a little more now:

• He loves it when Mum and Dad sing to him, but is a little wary when they do so together;
• He adores the feeling of water on his skin, but will certainly start singing (ie. screaming) in the shower if you take him away from it!
• Meals are always good no matter what the time, even when he's sleeping;
• Lying down is for babies so he'll cry like one unless you sit him up;
• Car rides are fun, but traffic lights are not (yes, he's learning fast); and
• Sucking on his pacifier is great, but trying to suck on his whole hand is better (the best when he actually misses his mouth and then tries to find it).

As you can see, we're having so much fun with Hugo. My favourite moments are when he wakes and instantly smiles when he sees me, smelling his breath and the folds of his skin and feeling like we communicate during our baby talk conversations (yes, they're very important).

This parenting stuff rocks.

Chubba bubba 

So cute 

Drool city 

He's starting to put everything is his mouth 

I've decided to hire some house work help.

Yes, I'd like to say it's because I don't have time, but that would be a lie. I have a pretty blissed out baby who's a great sleeper, so the real reason is because housework sucks.

I was watching 'The View' today and seeing the makeovers of three real life 'Desperate Housewives' scared me. Dear lordy, the women were a mess and I'm terrified this will be my future. I don't want to be frantic, messy and overweight with bad hair and feet that have five layers of dead skin.

So the show prompted me to think about what I want to do with this whole parenting thing and I'd much rather spend time with Hugo and Lucas, see family and friends, work and take up a hobby than try to miserably maintain a perfect home.

I kinda have issues with it as my mother had me in wife training from the age of eight, but damn, when I'm dying I doubt my regret will be I didn't do enough housework.

If I were to start a band I'd want to join with members who could play every instrument. That way, we could swap and change in our video clips/live performances no one would actually know who plays what.

It's been over a week and I'm still digesting thoughts from the last book club dinner.

Lucas and I leveraged our night out and met with friends before hitting the books, so after hours of tickling tales, we ran giddy and full through the rain to enter the small, narrow and noisy Thai restaurant.

With Hugo on my chest, I squeezed around the taken tables of the hungry and talkative, past the bustling, aromatic kitchen to walk up a worn and narrow wooden staircase to meet a table of unsuspecting bookworms.

They were shocked and silent to see us. They smiled and slowly started to speak, but their sentences were staccato so we only stayed for 20 minutes. God, I felt so uncomfortable.

The conversations were pleasant enough so I had to ask why. Apparently I'm a sight to see as a mother, it should pass.

Unsure, I now write with the latest book under my laptop and hope the next meeting won't feel as flavourless as the last. I'm sure it won't.

smiling more, eating less... lunches with family, dinner with friends... baby smells, baby routines... songs, lullabies... sleeps through nights... walking up stairs, lots of shopping down stairs... in search of new homes... big spaces, big budget... brown sunroof tans... long drives to the beach... salt through black hair, coconut skin... goodbye to my dad... tears, fingertips... long telephone talks... love to my mum... tales from work friends... happily home... exploring next steps... book or cafe?... friends are engaged... parties galore... culling my closet... while others step out... comfy couch cuddles... must-see tv...

have been happily, happily occupied