2s, 1d, welcome number three!
One or two people have mentioned to me that it's been a while since I last posted and so I have succumbed to the flattering impression that people want to read what I have to say. I can barely remember what I last wrote, but I think it was about my up-coming caesarian which is now - incredibly - 9 weeks past. As it happens, it was not particularly scary - although Paulo was so pale as we waited in theatre for me to be anaesthetised that I thought he was going to pass out ("Who's looking pale?" the obstetrician called out in alarm, and Paulo told me not to worry if he had to slip out for a minute, which I vigorously protested, but which didn't actually happen, I think the big blue screen helped him stay put and stay conscious, and he held my hand throughout, but I digress) - but it was pretty weird. I didn't like the pure medicated nature of the procedure, nor particularly the way the obstetrician had to tug and push and wrench to get the baby out. It was all distinctly unnatural, and I find it strange that women should choose to do it more than once. Give me a vaginal birth with an epidural any day.
That said, the recovery was not as bad as I expected, in fact it was easy, although not being able to drive for 6 weeks was an absolute pain in the *rse, and most importantly of all my gorgeous little baby girl arrived safe and well. As it happens she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck three times which may be why she couldn't turn over and which could have made a delivery dangerous, so all in all the c-section was definitely a good thing.
How can I have got this far without posting a photo? Here she is, little Eva at 4 days, as sweet a little bundle of joy as anyone could wish for:
Of course, she looks just like her father, as did the boys when they were born. I am resigned to my role as rent-a-womb.
And then, just as we thought we could relax and enjoy her, the fun and games started. A paediatrician who saw her on day 2 thought she looked dysmorphic, with her widely-set eyes and large head. "Have you met my husband and my sons?" I asked in vain. We were dispatched to see a whole bunch of specialists, including a geneticist who took one look at the lot of us, measured everyone's heads and sent us home. When they all gave her a clean bill of health she went on to fail her hearing test, twice. Cue referral to the ear, nose and throat hospital, where it was revealed that all she had was a little fluid behind her ear-drum, due to a cold, that should clear up by itself. (In between we slipped off to sunny Portugal for a week - lovely - but there were 10 days during which we were contemplating full or partial deafness.) Phew. But what's this little lump that has popped up in her groin? A hernia, no less, that required surgery.
At this point the gods - or to be precise Vulcan - must have taken pity on me for they caused my flight home to be cancelled, giving us time for the op and a free re-scheduling. So for the rest of you inconvenienced by the Icelandic eruption, sorry, it was our fault.
Eva is now absolutely fine, or at least seems to be, and we leave for Moz tomorrow. I have missed both the boys' birthdays (they left with Paulo 4 weeks ago, and are both smitten with their little sister), but I come laden with presents which should make up for it. See you there!
Labels: birthdays, Eva, Joaquim, Paulo, Sebastian, sisters
Let them eat cake
I don't think either I, nor you - dear readers - nor indeed the computer have the stamina for a full run-down of the last two months or so. So let's ease ourselves in with some easy viewing pics of the birthdays of the men in my life, starting with that lovable rascal Sebastian, who turned three on 18th April. Here is Sebastian opening his presents at breakfast:
Nice of his big brother to help him out with all that tricky paper tearing don't you think?
And here's the birthday boy with his Cars cake:
Which was duly admired and then destroyed in post-Happy Birthday 15 lap race to the death:
After which much fun was had with new toys and old favourites (it was raining so we just brought everything inside):
And we moved swiftly on to big boy Joaquim, who turned five on the 26th of April, for whom a slightly more elaborate party was in order.
So we had lots of games and the now-traditional treasure hunt.
And of course cake, this time a Spiderman motif, wddaya mean you can't tell (and those chocolate ladybirds are doing quite a good job standing in for spiders, don't you think?), although to be fair I feel that this year's efforts do not quite reach the dizzying heights of last year's pirate ship, though they wipe the floor with Sebastian's rabbit/mouse (it had long ears I tell you!) from two years ago, so I must be making progress. (At this point I wish I could remember how to link to my old posts so you can judge for yourselves.)
So here he is blowing out his candles, and isn't nice of his little brother to help him out with that?
As if this weren't enough, Paulo turned 40 on the 4th of May, which we decided to celebrate not once but twice, first at the week-end at Russell's place (gloriously renovated and reopened to a collective sigh of relief), with a friend who was also celebrating.
The fantastic gold confection is - alas - not mine, but I think you can see a few crumbs of mine here if you look closely:
And then again, on the day itself, at home with some good friends.
After which I found it hard to look a mixing bowl in the eye for a while.
Next up...India.
Labels: birthdays, Joaquim, Paulo, Sebastian
Headless chicken
Or blue-arsed fly. Either way, that's been me over the last month or so. And on Monday I'm off to India for 10 days. So all my good intentions of posting photos of Sebastian and Joaquim and Paulo's birthdays and my latest birding trip with Malcolm have gone out the window.
So see you all in a couple of weeks when I shall endeavour to make good!
Labels: birds, birthdays, Joaquim, Paulo, Pemba life, Sebastian, working mum
Birthday message
A little while ago my sister posted some unusually lyrical spam on her blog. I am likewise moved to post this message I received today:
Strait in a bag, and when it is boild, butter up several times in bed, and had begun to talk it doth anybody that is of lofty birth and the ? Well, yes... I was trying to
make a decision also he promised to supply me with two reliable.
Personally, I am all in favour of being buttered up several times in bed, though I'll skip the boil in the bag bit thanks, I'll take the two reliable whatever they ares, and as for being of lofty birth, I can honestly lay claim to only a small dash of loftiness in my otherwise very mixed heritage, and as far as I know my mother gave birth to me in UCH (35 years ago today) and not a treehouse or some other raised platform, although for all I know it may have been on the 5th floor. Does that count?
Labels: birthdays, waxing lyrical
Happy Birthday Sebastian!
Today number 2 turns 2. He celebrated by waking up about an hour earlier than usual, at 5am. This slightly dampened mum and dad’s enthusiasm for present opening, especially as we’d been up until midnight making his cake. But Joaquim was very gracious, “Look, Sebastian, presents!” and offered generous assistance in tearing open the wrapping paper (“But I’m just helping…”). Joaquim’s birthday is in one week, but as it’s hard to wait even that long when you’re only nearly four, he too got one small consolation present to keep him going.
How he looked then
We set off for nursery with Sebastian delighted clutching his new school rucksack, emblazoned with Sally and Lighting McQueen (“Car! Ka-tow! Ka-tow!”), which is nearly as big as he is, and a rather wonky, pale-blue, Smarties-decorated plane cake on the passenger seat. The boys were very impressed with the cake, thanks to their not very advanced years; it looks best from a distance, although I felt the silver-ball swirly S’s on its back and tail fin were a nice touch. Hope nobody chokes on one.
How he looks now (he's the one without the visible body hair).
Labels: birthdays, Joaquim, Sebastian
Happy birthday Paulo!
Today is my lovely husband's birthday. (For the first time he seems a little phased by his age, so I won't mention it.) The boys celebrated by waking us up at 5.15. Sebastian poked Paulo in the face and said "Papa, Papa, Papa", Joaquim sang him happy birthday (I was not allowed to join in), then I generously left him in bed and got up to play. I cheated and put Cee Beebies on. Joaquim loves Balamory and convenienly it's the first thing on at 5.30. It's just about all I can manage at that time too. Sebastian is not interested in TV though - except in turning it off, which he loves to do, with a naughty grin - so I also had to help him push little plastic shapes into the shape-sorter bus. Also just about at the limit my capabilities at that time.
Breakfast featured an excellent present sent by my mum (who says mothers in law are horrible?) - a DVD of Casino Royale which I am very excited about, at last a chance to check out the much-rated new Bond. This afternoon I must bake a cake (don't think I'll turn it into an animal though, Paulo will just have to live with the disappointment), then in the evening I'm taking Paulo out to dinner at the Chinese, and tomorrow we're celebrating with friends on the beach. There are worse ways to turn 38.
Oops. Sorry Paulo.
Labels: birthdays, Paulo
Exploring
I have sneaked in using internet explorer. So, as promised, some pics of the boys' birthday party.
First a cute one of the kids singing happy birthday.
Next a cute one of Sebastian and friends in the baby pool. Aaaaah.
And now Joaquim enjoying his cake.
They can't all be cute.
Labels: birthdays, Joaquim, Sebastian
Inselbergs and ladybirds
So, the inselberg. What a great word. I think the literal translation is island-mountain, which is a pretty good description of these huge chunks of granite which soar up all but vertically out of the plains, creating an awe-inspiring lanscape of monoliths disappearing off into the hazy blue distance. Although, of course, to experience this awe-inspiring landscape at its best, you have to climb one of them. Which, in this case, involved a two hour uphill scramble, at times clinging onto small handholes in the rock, and pushing through thick vegetation on the occasional flat bit. I was quite pleased with myself for making it to the peak, as a) I am not very fit (who, apart from Swisslil, finds the time and energy to exercise with small children to look after?) and b) I sometimes get a bit wobbly with heights. In any case it was well worth it, and based on the assumption that if I can do it then almost anyone can, I am going to put a bit of time and money into helping the young guys who guided me get better organised and a bit better equipped (bare feet!) so that they can offer a better (and more lucrative) service to the occasional adventurous tourist who makes it out to Meluco.
Meluco the (very small) town is the district capital of Meluco the district, which is a vast and wild place with many elephants – who frequently trash the crops – and a tendency towards drought – which also trashes the crops – and a subsequently fairly low standard of living. I very much want to promote tourism in the area, which is truly beautiful, but am hampered by the fact that there is no public transport, so only tourists with a vehicle can get there, and also no phone lines, so you can’t make an advance booking and be sure that there is somewhere to sleep, something to eat and some form of entertainment apart from trying to guess whether that strange night-time noise was a curious hyena or just a mouse in the roof. So we will start small and take it from there.
That was last week. Then, at the week-end, was the birthday party. Sebastian turned one on the 18th (in Meluco) and Joaquim turns three today (26th). Conveniently enough, a week-end lay in-between, so we inflated the bouncy castle and paddling pool and little slide thing that links the two, patched up the tear in the smaller Winnie-the-Pooh paddling pool, filled both, blew up many balloons, ordered grilled chicken and savoury snacks (“salgadinhos”, literally “salties” - a particularly fine Portuguese tradition, little pasties and pastries and the like), made jelly, bought ice-cream, baked two cakes and transformed them into one ladybird and one rabbit (looked a bit like a mouse, but Sebastian didn’t mind), and scoured Pemba for suitable goodies to fill going-home bags for 20 little boys and girls. (When I say we, Paulo ordered the chicken. I forgive him, he’s been busy and it was kind of fun.) 20 little people then scoffed the food, burst the balloons, sang happy birthday twice, and bounced, slid and splashed to their hearts content whilst their parents enjoyed a cold beer and whatever food they could salvage and made sure that the babies in the small pool stayed upright and left the kids in the bigger pool to their own devices. As you can imagine, it was a great success.
If I can find the cable to download my photos, I will post some of both of the above.
Labels: birthdays, Joaquim, Sebastian, waxing lyrical
Of course, she looks just like her father, as did the boys when they were born. I am resigned to my role as rent-a-womb.
