Ladies, gents, girls and boys, and all the other creatures who check in on this blog - it has been a big April! And we are barely halfway through.
As so much as happened, I thought I would treat you all with six short stories on our adventures thus far this month. Sit back, get yourself a cuppa, and enjoy.
ZAC'S FIRST ZOO ADVENTURE
At the very beginning of the month Zac and I went with one of the other local Aussie families on an adventure to the Zoo in Colorado Springs. We loaded in to the McKee-mobile (pram, baby carrier, oxygen, baby bag, baby sling and all the other bits and pieces that make up any outing of more than a couple of hours) and headed down the six lane highway (I25). Following the GPS we went through a suburb with some serious $$$ (Ka-ching!). There was a golf club, an enormous club house, and hotel, all looking pristine like on a movie set. We passed houses that looked like they had been stolen off the set of Gone with the Wind, or had been on MTV "cribs", or built to look like a house of parliament. And we climbed. And climbed. And climbed. The city sits at about 6,000 ft above see level: I reckon this zoo would have been another 2,000 ft higher (I don't even think I am exaggerating). Zac was trialing days without oxygen - but not this day. I felt fuzzy headed, so on it went.
The zoo was unique... there were exhibits where serious money had been spent, and there were exhibits that hadn't been touched since they were first built years and years (and years) ago. But the thing that they all had in common was that you could always see the bars on the cages. That was very strange - I don't think I remember actually seeing a cage at any zoo at home... or maybe I just wasn't paying attention.... but any way, there were some awesome animals. You could feed the giraffes, and look down on this funny, horse-zebra thing; there were (smelly) monkeys galore; hippos that looked like they were swimming in a backyard pool (green stuff around the sides and all); an enormous budgy cage (that with my irrational fear of birds I kept a serious distance from); and the best bear show EVER! The cage had a glass viewing wall that was half land and half water. The bears had just been fed so they were active, diving into the water to pick up toys that must have been filled with peanut butter for them to lick out, playing ball, floating on their back with all four paws in the air - it was one of the most fantastic things that I have ever seen. And given the looks of awe on the Mckee's boys faces, I guess they felt the same.
The zoo was a mad house. Built on the side of a mountain (not a hill), you caught elevators to the top of exhibts or once you had finished a "level". Crazy stuff! And you should have seen the "map" of Australia near the bush rats.... obviously the artist didn't know where Australia was or it's shape. It gave us a good giggle.
A very fun day - check out the photos on FB.
DRESS SHOPPING
In my absence from the great country of Oz, two of my best friends - the lovely Miss G and my wife Ange - have become engaged. Both of these beautiful ladies have asked me to be part of their big days. I'm more than a bit chuffed. Being that I am so far away, I am missing many of the little preps that my brides are making. So in order to try and be a "help" I went dress shopping. I left Zac and Tristan for some Daddy-son time and headed for the shops.
OMG - so fun! I would have tried on a dozen dresses. Long and short. Fancy and party-like. All the hues of the rainbow. As much as I love my girls, I must say that it was fun to shop for them without them ;-) Like all things in this part of the world, the stores are huge. There were rows of dresses, in every size (no need for giant bull dog clips or "just hold the smaller size against you. You'll get the idea...") and 32 dressing rooms. So after a few hours of fun, I picked a couple of dresses, and sent them home for opinions. In all likelihood they'll get something from home, but gee I had fun "helping".
Dresses are much cheaper here than at home, so I think there are a few that need to be added to my wardrobe soon...
OUR FIRST AUSSIE GUESTS
Over the Easter weekend we had our very first guests from Australia (well technically one of them lives in Pommy-land, but he's from the coast so...) Ben and Tania road-tripped from NY city to Denver to visit us for a weekend - now that is commitment! It was great to hang out with a couple of Aussies who shared the same "OMG! It's so big" opinions of the US. They experienced many of the big things that the US has to offer: the big Apple, the big road trip, big mountains, big burgers, and even Basspro and Sam's Club (those of you that have spent some time over here will get the references - everyone else will need to come visit so I can show you). We spent the evenings drinking cheap American alcohol (well, I was actually drinking NZ Sav Blanc - but the thought was there), and eating bad American food (we will all now die of heart attacks), while talking of home, and drunk Skyping (better than drunk dialing). It was great. And we appreciated the visit more than we can say.
As per usual, we all had big plans to go out on the town one night - I even lined up a McKee to babysit. But then Zac decided not to sleep the night before and my eyes were hanging out of my head. And Tristan had just come off a shift and was buggered. And we sent Ben and Tania to drive up a mountain, shop at the outlets and to eat a stroke inducing burger (which as a result I'm not sure they ate properly again for days), and they couldn't be bothered getting dressed and going out either, so we repeated the night before. It was awesome.
Selfishly, the best bit was showing our little fighter off to people who know us from home. It made us both very proud - until the little bugger spewed all over me. Sigh....
EASTER
So after Ben and Tania got back on the road on Easter Sunday, Tristan went back to work (which I will furthermore call Hades as in the ancient Greek underworld) and Zac and I went over to another Aussie's house for a pot luck Easter lunch extravaganza.
Easter is very different here. There is no Red Tulip aisle in Coles to tempt you with all the wonderful and waist expanding goodies. In fact the only eggs you get are little tiny ones. Most Easter chocolate on this side of the pacific is normal bite size chocolate (i.e. kit kats, snickers, peanut butter cups), in Easter themed wrappers. It made me sad. It just didn't feel like Easter.... But everywhere I went there were plastic eggs (you know the type - with a hinge on the side and empty in the middle).I didn't get it. why would people buy so many plastic eggs? There are only so many chocolate crackle eggs that you can make! But on Easter Sunday, everything made sense. Americans fill these little eggs with toys - like lucky dips. What a great idea!
Easter just is better when there are little kids running all over the yard looking for eggs.
Following that adventure, I watched the "big kids" take part in a Mexican easter tradition. Earlier in the week, someone had boiled dozens and dozens of eggs, then dug everything out of the shell, and refilled it with confetti. So the idea was to break these confetti eggs on one another! It was so funny to watch (I had a baby protecting me so no one came near). Glitter went everywhere! In peoples hair, down their shirts (and some pants), some bounced off and landed in th grass, to be picked up by someone else. I am taking this tradition home. It rocks!!
All in all, Zac's first Easter was a lot of fun.
MUMMY IS A MEANIE!!!
Time has flown, and last week Zac had his four month shots. I'm not particularly squimish about needles (I've had my fair share) so during Zac's last doctors visit I held him while they jabbed him with 3 needles and then gave him another immuinzation by mouth. My poor little boy was not happy! After a big cuddle, a bottle and a car ride, he had forgiven me. But the next day he had to have another shot. Well, I don't think that he forgave me for that one!!
We have had a few days of being off colour, but he's doing OK. But I think for his 6 month shots, Daddy can hold master Zac and look after him for the few days after. I'm not sure that a person is meant to do two rounds of shots back to back. Gosh it was hard! Zac got back at me, well and truly!!
DADDY GOES TO WASHINGTON
So around about the same time as Zac's shots, Tristan had to go to Washington for work. (convenient timing?!?!?!). He was so excited for four nights of uninterrupted sleep. I was so jealous!
Once a year, Tristan has to go to Washington to attend a bunch of briefings and workshops. Zac and I stayed at home this year, so he was a free agent to "network", see (and drink) the sights and delights of the Capitol. From what I can ascertain, he was very busy during the day doing work stuff, and during the nights he did one armed arm weight lifting (drinking beer), spent time getting to know his colleagues from across northern America (drinking beer), and even got all dressed up in his dress uniform to attend a ball and watch the game of influence (while drinking beer). I think it was a big week for my man. And while his sleep may have been uninterrupted, I'm not sure it was for as many hours as he had wished ;-)
He took some wonderful photos, and next year when me and the boy tag along, he has given us a very long to-do list... Turbo tourism at its best! Lookout Washington and surrounding states, you're on the Apperley to-do list!
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So that is April so far.... Tune in later this month to catch the adventures of the big blue car - the Apperely's go to New Mexico ;-)
Much love!!!
Pikes Peak
Monday, 16 April 2012
Wednesday, 28 March 2012
The four seasons of Colorado
As we creep up on the first anniversary of our great big adventure to the US, I've started to think about the weather extremes we have experienced. While at home in Canberra we do get to experience four distinct seasons, those seasons are very different to what we are experiencing here.
The first thing to note is that seasons don't align with specific months. At home, summer is always December - February. But here in the US of A the seasons are astronomically aligned. For example, summer this year is 20 June - 21 September. It just seems crazy for the seasons to suddenly change mid-month. But the locals think we're crazy for thinking that just because the month changes so does the season...
The second thing to remember is that geographically Denver is located at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. So we get to experience unique weather patterns due to the mix of the freezing extremes from up high, and the roasting extremes that creep across the eastern plains. It makes for some interesting weather patterns.
And the third thing to pay attention to is that Colorado experiences 300 days of sunshine a year. Yes, you can maintain a great tan line all year round!!
So way back in July when we arrived it was the middle of summer and we were experiencing hot days in the mid to high 30s. It was minus 8 the morning we left Canberra, so the warmer weather was welcome. But what we hadn't expected was the intensity of the sun! Our house sits at 6,000 ft above sea level, and as a result the sun seems more fierce, making it feel hotter than it was reported. (Sidebar: whose stupid idea was it to measure the temperature in the shade, out of the wind!!!)
I spent my mornings sitting on our back deck, sunning myself before it got too hot, and my afternoons lazing in pool at our community club house. Everything was green! Strict watering requirements ensured the world remained lush and vibrant - a very foreign concept to an Aussie who has been taught to take short showers and to not waste water! But I must admit it was a beautiful way to shift hemispheres.
But in the late afternoon, the storm clouds would roll in, obstructing the sunshine and the heavens would open with a wild sound and lighting show. One of my favourite times of day was after dinner when I would curl up on my couch (in my heavily air conditioned lounge room) and watch the rain batter the windows. I cannot describe the peace I felt during those moments. I love the rain!! The creek out the back would fill up each night and giggle and trickle every morning starting my daily routine again. Life was TOUGH!!!
Autumn, stupidly known as Fall in this part of the world, began on 23 September. Unsurprisingly things remained green due to regular watering so "Fall" seemed to be a misnomer. The sun continued to shine brightly though the air became a bit crisper, and they shut the pool :-( But they did blow out the sprinklers in mid-October so we got to stop watering the grass and things started to de-lush-ify (yes - I do have a way with words), beginning to make nature better match up with the season.
Outside the man made lands of suburbia, the forests and mountains turned vivid shades of red, orange and brown. "Leaf chasing" became a state sport with everyone I know running to the mountains to watch nature shed its greenery. And I must admit it was spectacular to watch. Canberra is lovely in Autumn; Northbourne Ave turns into a beautiful postcard of falling leaves and warm colours. But that beauty paled against seeing entire mountain ranges going through the same natural evolution. Being able to watch how it impacted a mountain, with the colours fading as you looked up, starting at green so dark and healthy down low, and shifting through a myriad of colours until the leaves fade out, falling off the trees nearing the sky.
After the intensity of summer, I was ready to wrap myself up in a blanket and read on the deck in the dwindling sunshine, to make some hearty meals - roasts, stews and soups - but before I could settle into the rhythm of my favourite season, the skies opened up again, dumping foot on foot of snow - way before the actual "start" of winter on 21 December. You might remember that the week Zac was born there was a foot snow and we experienced temptatures in the range of minus 20. Not even Mother Nature was prepared for such a downfall. Branches collapsed under the weight of the snow, and sap froze causing trees to snap. It was crazy!!
Several months of snow followed. It seemed every time the ice would almost melt off my street we would get another downfall. Despite the severe weather - an average daily temperature of minus 3 - the sun continued to shine. The mountains wore snowy white mantels and were often obscured in the clouds. From my kitchen window, holding a cup of hot Milo, it was lovely. It was like living in a postcard...
In Australia, there is a myth that snow has clean and peaceful connotations, that once the snow begins to fall the world begins a hibernation that involves sitting in front of a cheerful fireplace - after living a "white winter" I know this postcard to be a LIE!!! Snow is dirty and mushy, hiding layers of black ice that slip you up. You have to wear layers of clothing to walk the shortest distance between your car and the shop door, but when you get inside you need to strip off all your layers and lug them around (GRRRR). Your car gets covered in some sort of black anti-icing salt that is laid on the roads in an attempt to keep the main roads free of black ice. This black c@%p is near impossible to wash off your car windows yourself, so you need to go to a car wash to be able to see out of them. Of course Murphy's Law dictates that every time you do this it snows again!!(double GRRRR).
The world loses its luscious green coat in winter and when you occasionally see the grass it is brown, dead, with bare patches where the bunny population has devoured the roots. It's depressing, worse then seeing drought as at least with drought you know that it has taken several season to reach this point. In my mind it makes no sense for the grass to be dead in the heart of winter when in the heart of summer it is so green you need to wear sunglasses to look directly at it.
When Spring arrived earlier this week (20 March), me and every other Aussie in town was waiting with baited breath for some fair weather. And Denver delivered! Today is a lovely 26 degrees. I'm wearing a dress, and on my little walk around our mini-suburb I saw trees budding and not a trace of ice on the pond or on the paths. It was AWESOME!! But the flip side of this glorious weather is the crazy wind. I mean serious, hurricane like winds - 100km hour. It has shifted my outdoor furniture all over my deck, even blew the table top off. I know we get winds in Spring at home, but this is ridiculous!!
Unfortunately, our seasons of pollen have more in common that high winds. As you may have seen on the news, wildfires are ravishing the mountains. These high gusts have fanned the flames across several thousand hectares of forests and suburbia taking with it 30 homes and three people in three days. But I must say we seem to deal with these catastrophies better. Despite the fire not being at all contained, there are only 400 fighters being circulated on the front, and government is not at all involved in the coordination efforts (though both the Governor and the local Senator made comments that they hoped the state wouldn't be sued due to the destruction of property and people really should ensure they have adequate insurance to reclaim any destroyed property and/or goods...).
So, I've seen the scorching hot sun, the spectacular colour shift of autumn, feet on feet of snow (GRRR!!!), and the rebirth of spring. Four crazy seasons that have similarities to home, but are foreign enough for me to know that it is no longer a 2 hour drive to the coast (don't even get me started on how much I miss the water!!!). But it defiantly has its own unique beauty. And as we move further into the warmer months, I know I'll appreciate it more and more. Especially since there are kids around to kidnap and take to the water park ;-) I've already stocked up on sunscreen (that I had to wear all winter anyway), dusted off my sandels (that had a work out in the ice as well), and bought a new swimsuit better suited to my new Mummy status (and jelly body after a long winter of sitting on my bum). I'm EXCITED!
Now I'm just waiting for the pool to open. You have no idea how buzzed I am to have a pool party for my birthday!!!
Lots of love everyone - I'm off to have a glass of wine on my deck. Anyone in the area is welcome to join me :-)
The first thing to note is that seasons don't align with specific months. At home, summer is always December - February. But here in the US of A the seasons are astronomically aligned. For example, summer this year is 20 June - 21 September. It just seems crazy for the seasons to suddenly change mid-month. But the locals think we're crazy for thinking that just because the month changes so does the season...
The second thing to remember is that geographically Denver is located at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. So we get to experience unique weather patterns due to the mix of the freezing extremes from up high, and the roasting extremes that creep across the eastern plains. It makes for some interesting weather patterns.
And the third thing to pay attention to is that Colorado experiences 300 days of sunshine a year. Yes, you can maintain a great tan line all year round!!
So way back in July when we arrived it was the middle of summer and we were experiencing hot days in the mid to high 30s. It was minus 8 the morning we left Canberra, so the warmer weather was welcome. But what we hadn't expected was the intensity of the sun! Our house sits at 6,000 ft above sea level, and as a result the sun seems more fierce, making it feel hotter than it was reported. (Sidebar: whose stupid idea was it to measure the temperature in the shade, out of the wind!!!)
I spent my mornings sitting on our back deck, sunning myself before it got too hot, and my afternoons lazing in pool at our community club house. Everything was green! Strict watering requirements ensured the world remained lush and vibrant - a very foreign concept to an Aussie who has been taught to take short showers and to not waste water! But I must admit it was a beautiful way to shift hemispheres.
But in the late afternoon, the storm clouds would roll in, obstructing the sunshine and the heavens would open with a wild sound and lighting show. One of my favourite times of day was after dinner when I would curl up on my couch (in my heavily air conditioned lounge room) and watch the rain batter the windows. I cannot describe the peace I felt during those moments. I love the rain!! The creek out the back would fill up each night and giggle and trickle every morning starting my daily routine again. Life was TOUGH!!!
Autumn, stupidly known as Fall in this part of the world, began on 23 September. Unsurprisingly things remained green due to regular watering so "Fall" seemed to be a misnomer. The sun continued to shine brightly though the air became a bit crisper, and they shut the pool :-( But they did blow out the sprinklers in mid-October so we got to stop watering the grass and things started to de-lush-ify (yes - I do have a way with words), beginning to make nature better match up with the season.
Outside the man made lands of suburbia, the forests and mountains turned vivid shades of red, orange and brown. "Leaf chasing" became a state sport with everyone I know running to the mountains to watch nature shed its greenery. And I must admit it was spectacular to watch. Canberra is lovely in Autumn; Northbourne Ave turns into a beautiful postcard of falling leaves and warm colours. But that beauty paled against seeing entire mountain ranges going through the same natural evolution. Being able to watch how it impacted a mountain, with the colours fading as you looked up, starting at green so dark and healthy down low, and shifting through a myriad of colours until the leaves fade out, falling off the trees nearing the sky.
After the intensity of summer, I was ready to wrap myself up in a blanket and read on the deck in the dwindling sunshine, to make some hearty meals - roasts, stews and soups - but before I could settle into the rhythm of my favourite season, the skies opened up again, dumping foot on foot of snow - way before the actual "start" of winter on 21 December. You might remember that the week Zac was born there was a foot snow and we experienced temptatures in the range of minus 20. Not even Mother Nature was prepared for such a downfall. Branches collapsed under the weight of the snow, and sap froze causing trees to snap. It was crazy!!
Several months of snow followed. It seemed every time the ice would almost melt off my street we would get another downfall. Despite the severe weather - an average daily temperature of minus 3 - the sun continued to shine. The mountains wore snowy white mantels and were often obscured in the clouds. From my kitchen window, holding a cup of hot Milo, it was lovely. It was like living in a postcard...
In Australia, there is a myth that snow has clean and peaceful connotations, that once the snow begins to fall the world begins a hibernation that involves sitting in front of a cheerful fireplace - after living a "white winter" I know this postcard to be a LIE!!! Snow is dirty and mushy, hiding layers of black ice that slip you up. You have to wear layers of clothing to walk the shortest distance between your car and the shop door, but when you get inside you need to strip off all your layers and lug them around (GRRRR). Your car gets covered in some sort of black anti-icing salt that is laid on the roads in an attempt to keep the main roads free of black ice. This black c@%p is near impossible to wash off your car windows yourself, so you need to go to a car wash to be able to see out of them. Of course Murphy's Law dictates that every time you do this it snows again!!(double GRRRR).
The world loses its luscious green coat in winter and when you occasionally see the grass it is brown, dead, with bare patches where the bunny population has devoured the roots. It's depressing, worse then seeing drought as at least with drought you know that it has taken several season to reach this point. In my mind it makes no sense for the grass to be dead in the heart of winter when in the heart of summer it is so green you need to wear sunglasses to look directly at it.
When Spring arrived earlier this week (20 March), me and every other Aussie in town was waiting with baited breath for some fair weather. And Denver delivered! Today is a lovely 26 degrees. I'm wearing a dress, and on my little walk around our mini-suburb I saw trees budding and not a trace of ice on the pond or on the paths. It was AWESOME!! But the flip side of this glorious weather is the crazy wind. I mean serious, hurricane like winds - 100km hour. It has shifted my outdoor furniture all over my deck, even blew the table top off. I know we get winds in Spring at home, but this is ridiculous!!
Unfortunately, our seasons of pollen have more in common that high winds. As you may have seen on the news, wildfires are ravishing the mountains. These high gusts have fanned the flames across several thousand hectares of forests and suburbia taking with it 30 homes and three people in three days. But I must say we seem to deal with these catastrophies better. Despite the fire not being at all contained, there are only 400 fighters being circulated on the front, and government is not at all involved in the coordination efforts (though both the Governor and the local Senator made comments that they hoped the state wouldn't be sued due to the destruction of property and people really should ensure they have adequate insurance to reclaim any destroyed property and/or goods...).
So, I've seen the scorching hot sun, the spectacular colour shift of autumn, feet on feet of snow (GRRR!!!), and the rebirth of spring. Four crazy seasons that have similarities to home, but are foreign enough for me to know that it is no longer a 2 hour drive to the coast (don't even get me started on how much I miss the water!!!). But it defiantly has its own unique beauty. And as we move further into the warmer months, I know I'll appreciate it more and more. Especially since there are kids around to kidnap and take to the water park ;-) I've already stocked up on sunscreen (that I had to wear all winter anyway), dusted off my sandels (that had a work out in the ice as well), and bought a new swimsuit better suited to my new Mummy status (and jelly body after a long winter of sitting on my bum). I'm EXCITED!
Now I'm just waiting for the pool to open. You have no idea how buzzed I am to have a pool party for my birthday!!!
Lots of love everyone - I'm off to have a glass of wine on my deck. Anyone in the area is welcome to join me :-)
Sunday, 18 March 2012
bringing the little fella home
Proof that prayers, positive thinking and love prevails - Zac came home on 20 February. For those of you that were keeping tabs, that was his actual due date!
December was hard. Leaving the hospital with my baby still there was far and away the most difficult thing I have ever done. Seeing his tiny body covered with medical equipment tore a hole in my heart. However, he was so tiny that I knew that the hosipital was only place that he could survive. Plus with Tristan and I as parents I knew his fighting spirit would kick in and he would be fine. So each day we would visit for a couple of hours, waiting with baited breath for that 15 minute window every 4 hours where we got to check his temperature, change his nappy and hold his hand while the nurses made their checks of his little body.
As December passed into January, Zac started to grow. He stopped looking like an alien as his checks and limbs started to fill out. We got to hold him almost everyday, and more and more medical equipment came off. By the time February rolled in, he was grunting and growling like other babies do. And we started to feed him.
Daddy had much better success rate than mummy did at getting Zac to eat. Since he was only breastfed once every 8-10 feeds, it was foreign to the little boy, so all he wanted to do was chomp. This did not impress me one bit!!!! However, Zac seemed to slowly get the hang of drinking breastmilk out of a bottle, and Daddy's pure stubbornness ensured that Zac would take at least half his feed out of the bottle when he was around.
But he wasn't (and still isn't) great at letting us know if he was hungry. So if he wasnt awake and seemingly hungry, his meal was pushed down his feeding tube. Zac, proving that he is a clever cookie, learnt that if he didn't want to take his bottle, or if it hurt too much to eat, he just needed to play possum (close his eyes and pretend to be asleep) and his meal would be tube fed to him. Yes, his little redheadedness learnt to be lazy from a very young age.
This seemed to be the longest chapter of our hospital stay. Some days he would eat. Some days he wouldn't. We learnt that we could keep feeding him even when he was playing possum. But only Tristan and his primary nurses had any luck with this. I contiuned to try unsuccessfully to breastfeed, and other nurses who had him irregularly didn't know to push him even though he seemed asleep. Then the evil reflux started, and all the hard work of the past few weeks came to a sudden stop. Zac was no longer interested to taking the bottle, and I stopped trying to breastfeed him in hopes that if I could just get him to eat by bottle we could take him home and I could teach him to breastfeed in the comfort of our own home.
After Tristan and my little get away to the mountains, we visited Zac before we went home. On a seemingly normal visit, the nurse told us that the doctors wanted to have a talk to us about our baby. They sat us down in a very serious manner and told us that they feared that Zac was developing an eating aversion due to his reflux and they wanted to try him on a formula. The formula would be thicker than breastmilk, would be more difficult for him to spit up, and would be more likely to stay in his belly and digest. At this point both Tristan and I were so desperate to have him home, that even though we both wanted him to be breastfed, we agreed to try anything that might speed him home to us.
So they started him on the magic formula. And before the day was out he was taking full feeds by bottle and a few days after that they started talking about him coming home!!! Sure, he would still play possum, and was only just making or just missing his quota, but he was eating!!! It was a miracle! Not only was there light at the end of the tunnel, but I felt like I could reach out and touch it.
The next few days are so clearly ingrained in my memory. Tristan worked that Sunday and I was taking an opportunity to have a bit of a sleep in (knowing that sleep would soon become a precious commodity) before I headed to the hospital. At 725 he called he to say that Zac would be coming home today and to get some sleep. Well of course I couldnt sleep anymore, so I bounced around the house making the final preparations to have my family all under the same roof for the night. Then at 930, just as I was about to leave to go into the hospital, Tristan rang back to say not today, but certainly tomorrow.
While disappointed, I understood that the doctors wanted to observe him for one more day, after all he hadn't been on the formula for 5 days yet. So I just spent the day with the nurse, receiving our last baby classes, getting lots of cuddles, and feeding my son. Life was almost perfect. That night Tristan and I said goodbye to our primary nurse who had become like family over the passed few months, and set home for our last night at home alone.
The next morning Tristan and I were both having a sleep in, both of us dreaming of that magic momment that we would bring Zac into his home, when I received a phone call from the hospital. Zac hadn't made his minimum feeds that night, and they wanted to keep him for a few days longer. I have no idea how, or even if, I kept a steady voice during that conversation, but I can remember wanting to cry my heart out when it was over. Today was the 20th of Feb - Zac's due date. I wanted him home more than I could ever say. It had been long enough.
As a girl, I dealt with this problem with tears. As a bloke, Tristan dealt with this as situation that needed to be resolved. I could see the anger and disappointment festering under the surface. I felt sorry for anyone who got in his way that day. They were never going to win.
We went straight to the hospital and spoke to the doctors. They were concerned that if Zac came home he may not eat enough, not gain any weight and end up needing to be readmitted to hospital. While appreciating their concern, we knew we could feed our son. We had spend hours and hours (and hours and hours) at the hospital feeding him. We knew that we could do it and we had the support of the nursing staff. But the doctor was holding to his position. So tearfully, and hugely disappointed, we set up for another day in the hospital. Tristan was determined to be at the hospital for as many feeds as possible and, if necessary, force feed Zac to ensure that he would meet his quotas.
An hour or so later, it was rounds. As the hospital we were at was a teaching hospital, rounds were overseen by an experienced (and generally very elderly) attending physican. When Zac's care came up, I turned my head. I just didn't want to hear anyone say Zac wasn't coming home again, but curiosity beat out denial. Each doctor argued their case. It was interesting to hear that there were two opposing camps: one in favour of letting us take Zac home, the other in favour of a more conservative path that would see him stay for a few more days until they were certain that he could eat enough regularly. The attending listened to both arguments and then spoke to us. He seemed to take us at our word that we could make Zac eat. But the pediatrician we choose seemed to sway him enough that he agreed to let us take him home as long as we saw the pediatrician three times a week. We didn't need to be told twice!
Two hours later we left the small room that had been the only place we could be a complete family for the last 82 days. It was very bitter sweet. The sweet outweighing the bitter 10:1 but the hospital had become an enourmous part of our lives. It was like an out of body experience leaving it for the last time with our precious cargo. I kept waiting to be told to put Zac back into his crib, or for the alarm to go off that we were stealing our baby. But I didn't. We just walked out, staring at our bundle of love.
The elevator doors closed on our exit that afternoon, ending an incredibly painful chapter in our lives that showed us that we had strength we didn't know we had. And even more importantly, renewing our faith that Tristan and I always have each other. The best part was that this chapter had a very happy ending.
So if you ever need proof that prayers, positive thinking and love can change the world, all you need to do is look at Zac. I do - everyday
December was hard. Leaving the hospital with my baby still there was far and away the most difficult thing I have ever done. Seeing his tiny body covered with medical equipment tore a hole in my heart. However, he was so tiny that I knew that the hosipital was only place that he could survive. Plus with Tristan and I as parents I knew his fighting spirit would kick in and he would be fine. So each day we would visit for a couple of hours, waiting with baited breath for that 15 minute window every 4 hours where we got to check his temperature, change his nappy and hold his hand while the nurses made their checks of his little body.
As December passed into January, Zac started to grow. He stopped looking like an alien as his checks and limbs started to fill out. We got to hold him almost everyday, and more and more medical equipment came off. By the time February rolled in, he was grunting and growling like other babies do. And we started to feed him.
Daddy had much better success rate than mummy did at getting Zac to eat. Since he was only breastfed once every 8-10 feeds, it was foreign to the little boy, so all he wanted to do was chomp. This did not impress me one bit!!!! However, Zac seemed to slowly get the hang of drinking breastmilk out of a bottle, and Daddy's pure stubbornness ensured that Zac would take at least half his feed out of the bottle when he was around.
But he wasn't (and still isn't) great at letting us know if he was hungry. So if he wasnt awake and seemingly hungry, his meal was pushed down his feeding tube. Zac, proving that he is a clever cookie, learnt that if he didn't want to take his bottle, or if it hurt too much to eat, he just needed to play possum (close his eyes and pretend to be asleep) and his meal would be tube fed to him. Yes, his little redheadedness learnt to be lazy from a very young age.
This seemed to be the longest chapter of our hospital stay. Some days he would eat. Some days he wouldn't. We learnt that we could keep feeding him even when he was playing possum. But only Tristan and his primary nurses had any luck with this. I contiuned to try unsuccessfully to breastfeed, and other nurses who had him irregularly didn't know to push him even though he seemed asleep. Then the evil reflux started, and all the hard work of the past few weeks came to a sudden stop. Zac was no longer interested to taking the bottle, and I stopped trying to breastfeed him in hopes that if I could just get him to eat by bottle we could take him home and I could teach him to breastfeed in the comfort of our own home.
After Tristan and my little get away to the mountains, we visited Zac before we went home. On a seemingly normal visit, the nurse told us that the doctors wanted to have a talk to us about our baby. They sat us down in a very serious manner and told us that they feared that Zac was developing an eating aversion due to his reflux and they wanted to try him on a formula. The formula would be thicker than breastmilk, would be more difficult for him to spit up, and would be more likely to stay in his belly and digest. At this point both Tristan and I were so desperate to have him home, that even though we both wanted him to be breastfed, we agreed to try anything that might speed him home to us.
So they started him on the magic formula. And before the day was out he was taking full feeds by bottle and a few days after that they started talking about him coming home!!! Sure, he would still play possum, and was only just making or just missing his quota, but he was eating!!! It was a miracle! Not only was there light at the end of the tunnel, but I felt like I could reach out and touch it.
The next few days are so clearly ingrained in my memory. Tristan worked that Sunday and I was taking an opportunity to have a bit of a sleep in (knowing that sleep would soon become a precious commodity) before I headed to the hospital. At 725 he called he to say that Zac would be coming home today and to get some sleep. Well of course I couldnt sleep anymore, so I bounced around the house making the final preparations to have my family all under the same roof for the night. Then at 930, just as I was about to leave to go into the hospital, Tristan rang back to say not today, but certainly tomorrow.
While disappointed, I understood that the doctors wanted to observe him for one more day, after all he hadn't been on the formula for 5 days yet. So I just spent the day with the nurse, receiving our last baby classes, getting lots of cuddles, and feeding my son. Life was almost perfect. That night Tristan and I said goodbye to our primary nurse who had become like family over the passed few months, and set home for our last night at home alone.
The next morning Tristan and I were both having a sleep in, both of us dreaming of that magic momment that we would bring Zac into his home, when I received a phone call from the hospital. Zac hadn't made his minimum feeds that night, and they wanted to keep him for a few days longer. I have no idea how, or even if, I kept a steady voice during that conversation, but I can remember wanting to cry my heart out when it was over. Today was the 20th of Feb - Zac's due date. I wanted him home more than I could ever say. It had been long enough.
As a girl, I dealt with this problem with tears. As a bloke, Tristan dealt with this as situation that needed to be resolved. I could see the anger and disappointment festering under the surface. I felt sorry for anyone who got in his way that day. They were never going to win.
We went straight to the hospital and spoke to the doctors. They were concerned that if Zac came home he may not eat enough, not gain any weight and end up needing to be readmitted to hospital. While appreciating their concern, we knew we could feed our son. We had spend hours and hours (and hours and hours) at the hospital feeding him. We knew that we could do it and we had the support of the nursing staff. But the doctor was holding to his position. So tearfully, and hugely disappointed, we set up for another day in the hospital. Tristan was determined to be at the hospital for as many feeds as possible and, if necessary, force feed Zac to ensure that he would meet his quotas.
An hour or so later, it was rounds. As the hospital we were at was a teaching hospital, rounds were overseen by an experienced (and generally very elderly) attending physican. When Zac's care came up, I turned my head. I just didn't want to hear anyone say Zac wasn't coming home again, but curiosity beat out denial. Each doctor argued their case. It was interesting to hear that there were two opposing camps: one in favour of letting us take Zac home, the other in favour of a more conservative path that would see him stay for a few more days until they were certain that he could eat enough regularly. The attending listened to both arguments and then spoke to us. He seemed to take us at our word that we could make Zac eat. But the pediatrician we choose seemed to sway him enough that he agreed to let us take him home as long as we saw the pediatrician three times a week. We didn't need to be told twice!
Two hours later we left the small room that had been the only place we could be a complete family for the last 82 days. It was very bitter sweet. The sweet outweighing the bitter 10:1 but the hospital had become an enourmous part of our lives. It was like an out of body experience leaving it for the last time with our precious cargo. I kept waiting to be told to put Zac back into his crib, or for the alarm to go off that we were stealing our baby. But I didn't. We just walked out, staring at our bundle of love.
The elevator doors closed on our exit that afternoon, ending an incredibly painful chapter in our lives that showed us that we had strength we didn't know we had. And even more importantly, renewing our faith that Tristan and I always have each other. The best part was that this chapter had a very happy ending.
So if you ever need proof that prayers, positive thinking and love can change the world, all you need to do is look at Zac. I do - everyday
Tuesday, 6 March 2012
There are those times...
Dear Zac,
By now, no doubt, you have realised that your Mummy is very silly. And that she loves and trusts your Daddy to distraction. So today, when Daddy said "let's go to the park" I got very excited.
It was the first day that it was over 20 degrees and I thought it would be a lovely day for a stoll in the park. Thinking that we might want to take a family photo I wore nice jeans, a pretty white t-shirt, and sandals (I had just had a pedicure so my toes were happy). I blow dried my hair, and while I stopped short of painting a full face of make up, I did add a bit of volume to my eyes and some gloss to my lips. I looked great! Even your daddy said so!
We packed the car up (bottle warmer, oxygen, pram, nappy bag, iPad, camera) and set out on our adventure. The mountains looked picturque, the sky was perfectly clear, and I was with my boys - I couldn't have been happier. We drove down the highway. And we drove a little further (you were peacefully asleep in the backseat and missed it). The mountains got closer and eventually we left suburbia and hit "rural" Denver.
It was about here that I asked what park we were going to. I thought it must be a very special park given we had driven this far. I was thinking beautiful manicured gardens, perhaps a decorative pond, lovely green grass, and paved paths that would wind through the park passing playgrounds, children laughing and ducks (a good park will always have ducks).
However it seems I made a stupid assumption - we weren't going to the park: we were going to a state park. After taking a moment to call myself several nasty names(stupidmbeing the kindest)I thought a bit more about it. Your Daddy and I have been to a few very nice state parks, and while there probably wouldn't be any ducks or green grass, we would stil get to take a nice family stroll.
I started to get worried when we had to drive along a dirt track to get into the park. And then we had to walk up a mountain (ok - not a "mountain" but a serious hill considering we had the pram) to the visitors centre - which had a desk and a coke machine...
Don't get me wrong - it was beautiful. There were these enormous red limestone rocks just popping up from the ground in the middle of no where. There was sunshine and birds singing. It was like a postcard.
We(read: Daddy) decided that we would take you on a walk around one of those big red rocks. It was a dirt track, but the man at the gate said it would be suitable for a stroller. It was a 3.5 mile walk, which I thought could be a nice hour or so walk as a family...
But there was still snow on the ground. And slush where that beautiful sunshine had melted the snow. And there was mud where that slush had hit the dirt. And I was wearing SANDELS!!!! To top it off, there were strong wind gusts that blew my hair everywhere!!! My lips were chapped, my toes were wet and muddy and there more hills to climb!!!
My glamourous park adventure with my family had turned into a farcical event where I could barely keep my balance (or my language) as I slipped, skidded and slided around the "path". To his credit, I didn't hear your daddy laugh at me once - or maybe the wind just blew the sound away... But he did have to contend with the elements and push your pram around. He was huffing and puffing in some parts. I laughed at that.
Thank goodness your daddy didn't suggest a family photo at the end. I was muddy, sweaty, disheveled and seriously unimpressed. But the glint in your Daddy's eye made it hard for me to be (too) mad at him.
It was a beautiful walk (I'm sure...) and I would love to go back and do a different trail, but it was just not what I had expected. It was one of those times when making an assumption had made me look like a complete fool. Sigh
Your Daddy is wonderful man, and loves to go on family adventures, but it will be the last time (at least for a while) that I don't get more details about where we are going.... Sigh.
And you - you seemed to have loved the entire ordeal. You slept, wiggled to avoid any sunlight, and didn't fuss once. You seem to like the off road (won't that make your Uncle Jonny happy). Sigh.
And now, while you sleep off your big day out, I'm off to wash my feet!
Lots of love
Mummy
By now, no doubt, you have realised that your Mummy is very silly. And that she loves and trusts your Daddy to distraction. So today, when Daddy said "let's go to the park" I got very excited.
It was the first day that it was over 20 degrees and I thought it would be a lovely day for a stoll in the park. Thinking that we might want to take a family photo I wore nice jeans, a pretty white t-shirt, and sandals (I had just had a pedicure so my toes were happy). I blow dried my hair, and while I stopped short of painting a full face of make up, I did add a bit of volume to my eyes and some gloss to my lips. I looked great! Even your daddy said so!
We packed the car up (bottle warmer, oxygen, pram, nappy bag, iPad, camera) and set out on our adventure. The mountains looked picturque, the sky was perfectly clear, and I was with my boys - I couldn't have been happier. We drove down the highway. And we drove a little further (you were peacefully asleep in the backseat and missed it). The mountains got closer and eventually we left suburbia and hit "rural" Denver.
It was about here that I asked what park we were going to. I thought it must be a very special park given we had driven this far. I was thinking beautiful manicured gardens, perhaps a decorative pond, lovely green grass, and paved paths that would wind through the park passing playgrounds, children laughing and ducks (a good park will always have ducks).
However it seems I made a stupid assumption - we weren't going to the park: we were going to a state park. After taking a moment to call myself several nasty names(stupidmbeing the kindest)I thought a bit more about it. Your Daddy and I have been to a few very nice state parks, and while there probably wouldn't be any ducks or green grass, we would stil get to take a nice family stroll.
I started to get worried when we had to drive along a dirt track to get into the park. And then we had to walk up a mountain (ok - not a "mountain" but a serious hill considering we had the pram) to the visitors centre - which had a desk and a coke machine...
Don't get me wrong - it was beautiful. There were these enormous red limestone rocks just popping up from the ground in the middle of no where. There was sunshine and birds singing. It was like a postcard.
We(read: Daddy) decided that we would take you on a walk around one of those big red rocks. It was a dirt track, but the man at the gate said it would be suitable for a stroller. It was a 3.5 mile walk, which I thought could be a nice hour or so walk as a family...
But there was still snow on the ground. And slush where that beautiful sunshine had melted the snow. And there was mud where that slush had hit the dirt. And I was wearing SANDELS!!!! To top it off, there were strong wind gusts that blew my hair everywhere!!! My lips were chapped, my toes were wet and muddy and there more hills to climb!!!
My glamourous park adventure with my family had turned into a farcical event where I could barely keep my balance (or my language) as I slipped, skidded and slided around the "path". To his credit, I didn't hear your daddy laugh at me once - or maybe the wind just blew the sound away... But he did have to contend with the elements and push your pram around. He was huffing and puffing in some parts. I laughed at that.
Thank goodness your daddy didn't suggest a family photo at the end. I was muddy, sweaty, disheveled and seriously unimpressed. But the glint in your Daddy's eye made it hard for me to be (too) mad at him.
It was a beautiful walk (I'm sure...) and I would love to go back and do a different trail, but it was just not what I had expected. It was one of those times when making an assumption had made me look like a complete fool. Sigh
Your Daddy is wonderful man, and loves to go on family adventures, but it will be the last time (at least for a while) that I don't get more details about where we are going.... Sigh.
And you - you seemed to have loved the entire ordeal. You slept, wiggled to avoid any sunlight, and didn't fuss once. You seem to like the off road (won't that make your Uncle Jonny happy). Sigh.
And now, while you sleep off your big day out, I'm off to wash my feet!
Lots of love
Mummy
Tuesday, 21 February 2012
Feeling the love :-)
Ladies,
There have been many times over the past few months that I have missed you and wished we could have coffee, chat and catch up without the tyranny of distance. To share our stories - triumph and tragedy - without the awkwardness of Skype or phone. But mostly, I've just missed the companionship and comfort of being surrounded by people who know me as well as I know myself.
But I have been lucky, there are people on this side of the Pacific that have provided me with unconditional love and support while I have been here. This was most recently evident at my baby shower.
My baby shower was wonderful. One of the (few) advantages of Zac's early arrival was that I was able to indulge at my shower - blue cheese (I craved this so much during pregnancy); red wine (always a requirement on a chilly day); and skinny jeans (no one wants to wear a moo moo to their own party). The games we played did not involve chocolate in nappies, but rather how many pegs you can take off a clothes line with a glass of wine in your hand - classic! But the best part of the day was the company. It was the first time that I felt like I had just sat around and hung out with everyone. It was exactly what I needed and I was so grateful. I truly felt the love.
A few days later, Tristan surprised me with a trip to the mountains. It was the babymoon we had planned months ago, but I thought we would never get a chance to take. It was only an hour or so away, so we could visit Zac in the morning and go spend the night in the mountains, then see him again on the way home the next day. It was perfect! Of course there was another motive - there was a heap of powder and Tristan wanted to get in a few runs each day. But I didn't mind in the least - it meant I could hang out at Starbucks and read (or sew). The best part was that we got to spend some real quality time together. We had a spa out in the snow, a wonderful dinner at a cute little Italian restaurant where we got to drink Aussie wine, and a lunch at a "bakery" (I think someone needs to advise America that to call a cafe a bakery you actually need to bake something...).
I can't describe how relaxed we were after those few days away. And HAPPY. We knew there was light at the end of the tunnel and we had survived this tumultuous adventure.
The theory of jumping country and spending three years starting a family was fabulous in theory. But, as the cookie crumbles, we were given a less than perfect pregnancy, an extremely early delivery, and an extended stay in the NICU. Without the support network that we take for granted at home, this was difficult (...might be a slight understatement). But the truth of the matter is that without the wonderful Aussies, Brits, Canadians and the odd local, this chapter might have been completely unbearable.
Everyday we get a little message from home sending us love, luck, prayers and support. It has meant a lot. We feel the love.
Everyday someone here will do something that will make us realise how lucky we are, and even though we are far from home, we aren't alone. It means so much. We feel the love.
And, lucky for me, everyday I get a cuddle from both of my boys and their love buoys me though another day. I am always feeling the love.
It was a week where I felt the love so strongly, that I feel the need to thank you all. Mwah!
I hope that you can feel the love too ;-)
There have been many times over the past few months that I have missed you and wished we could have coffee, chat and catch up without the tyranny of distance. To share our stories - triumph and tragedy - without the awkwardness of Skype or phone. But mostly, I've just missed the companionship and comfort of being surrounded by people who know me as well as I know myself.
But I have been lucky, there are people on this side of the Pacific that have provided me with unconditional love and support while I have been here. This was most recently evident at my baby shower.
My baby shower was wonderful. One of the (few) advantages of Zac's early arrival was that I was able to indulge at my shower - blue cheese (I craved this so much during pregnancy); red wine (always a requirement on a chilly day); and skinny jeans (no one wants to wear a moo moo to their own party). The games we played did not involve chocolate in nappies, but rather how many pegs you can take off a clothes line with a glass of wine in your hand - classic! But the best part of the day was the company. It was the first time that I felt like I had just sat around and hung out with everyone. It was exactly what I needed and I was so grateful. I truly felt the love.
A few days later, Tristan surprised me with a trip to the mountains. It was the babymoon we had planned months ago, but I thought we would never get a chance to take. It was only an hour or so away, so we could visit Zac in the morning and go spend the night in the mountains, then see him again on the way home the next day. It was perfect! Of course there was another motive - there was a heap of powder and Tristan wanted to get in a few runs each day. But I didn't mind in the least - it meant I could hang out at Starbucks and read (or sew). The best part was that we got to spend some real quality time together. We had a spa out in the snow, a wonderful dinner at a cute little Italian restaurant where we got to drink Aussie wine, and a lunch at a "bakery" (I think someone needs to advise America that to call a cafe a bakery you actually need to bake something...).
I can't describe how relaxed we were after those few days away. And HAPPY. We knew there was light at the end of the tunnel and we had survived this tumultuous adventure.
The theory of jumping country and spending three years starting a family was fabulous in theory. But, as the cookie crumbles, we were given a less than perfect pregnancy, an extremely early delivery, and an extended stay in the NICU. Without the support network that we take for granted at home, this was difficult (...might be a slight understatement). But the truth of the matter is that without the wonderful Aussies, Brits, Canadians and the odd local, this chapter might have been completely unbearable.
Everyday we get a little message from home sending us love, luck, prayers and support. It has meant a lot. We feel the love.
Everyday someone here will do something that will make us realise how lucky we are, and even though we are far from home, we aren't alone. It means so much. We feel the love.
And, lucky for me, everyday I get a cuddle from both of my boys and their love buoys me though another day. I am always feeling the love.
It was a week where I felt the love so strongly, that I feel the need to thank you all. Mwah!
I hope that you can feel the love too ;-)
Friday, 3 February 2012
Australia day antics and adventures
I must admit that celebrating Australia Day when you are away from home takes on a whole new meaning.
When at home Australia Day typically means a public holiday (a requestite for all us public servants who have been back at work for a whole three weeks after Christmas without a break - shocking!), drinking Tooheys Extra Dry (lovingly known as TEDs in our home), listening to JJJs hottest 100 (counting the half a dozen songs we know) and spending as much time as possible in the water with your mates who will attempt to drown you at least once over the course of the day. Second to Christmas, its our favourite holiday.
This year, Tristan and I enviously read our Facebook updates watching you all complain about the heat/fires/floods and other marvelous meteorological events that make our great country the land of droughts and flooding rains. You spent the day celebrating with your "family", eating snags, pizza shapes, cabanossi and cheese, and running around in your board shorts and national footwear. You watched the Sydney fireworks on the news - after all, who wants to get up at the crack of dawn to get a decent position on the foreshore, where you can't drink and need to sit beside/on a complete stranger for hours on end only to realize the wind is blowing all the smoke from the crackers directly into your eyes so you can't see them anyway!!! Needless to say, we were very homesick.
In an effort to bring the land of Oz to the Mile High City, Tristan and I agreed to host Australia Day celebrations way back in August. The plan was that this would be our last sha-bang before RJ arrived (oh how plans change). Of course, life in its many twists and turns resulted in us paying near no attention to the date. So a week before the big day we realised that we had a party to cater for, but didn't even have enough seats for all our guests to perch on. Luckily, the great Aussie bregade came to the rescue, agreeing to each bring an Aussie platter, Tristan moved all our patio furniture into the basement (liberally "borrowing" odds and ends from our departing brethren) and we made a made dash to Sam's to get meat and salad for a BBQ. Like any good Aussie household, we didn't need beer as the pantry was already stocked ;-)
The day started out like any other: a visit to the hospital to see our little boy - who incidentally was wearing his Aussie Day best thanks to Aunty Ange. I gave him a bath and inked his feet for more footprints, while Tristan ran home to get the party started in my absence.
When I got home a couple of hours later, the house smelled of sausage rolls. Yum! Drifting into the basement I was confronted with a sea of green and gold, and Aussie flags decking every surface. There were dips and chips aplenty, Tim tams and crackers galore, beer in the esky, and wine chilling in the fridge. Devine!!!!
Denver pulled out some good weather (42 - F not C) so not long after I got home (literally Tristan didn't even give me enough time to eat lunch) we grabbed the bat and ball and headed to our local oval to confuse the neighbours with a game of cricket. It was so much fun. The little tackers put the grown ups to shame. The girls stood in the out field doing their best to disappear anytime someone new was needed to bat. And Tristan played one handed as to not spill his drink.
Later on Tristan pulled out his BBQ skills and delivered the best Aussie BBQ that Denver had ever seen. There was potato and pasta salad, something that looked like beetroot (....), a huge salad that was barely touched (in the tradition of Aussie Day - you don't make friends with salad), steak, lamb, hamburger patties (that shrunk on the BBQ and looked more like meatballs) and sausages of the chicken variety. It was a grand feast that was serenaded by the gentle whispers of Richie Benuet and the Australia Day Test match at Adeliade Oval. It felt just like home.
Then came my favourite part of the day - DESSERT!!! The Aussie ladies of Denver delivered such delight that my taste buds are still dancing. There was pavolva (covered in aerobar flacks), laminations, chocolate crackles and cake. So good! The best part was that there was left overs!!
After heavily indulging and being glad that I was wearing track pants with an elastic waist band, everyone decided to head home (early mornings the next day meant we really couldn't indulge too much more...). In an effort to help, one of the kids was carrying the left over cake to the kitchen and just missed the bench. It was the funniest thing I had seen in ages. Chocolate cake all over the floor, the little tacker standing in the middle of it not knowing whether to laugh and or cry, and Tristan's devastated face when he realised his morning tea for the week was on gone (though we did manage to save some of it). Classic Aussie Day memories.
It wasn't the same as home, but it's uniqueness made it special. The importance of being Australian when you are away from home just seems to be more. You want to scream from the mountain top that you come for the sun burnt country and make every American eat a tim tam so they can appreciate how crap their cookies really are. While we are enjoying our American adventure, we will always call Australia home - and miss it terribly while we are away.
Hope you are all well and enjoyed Australia day where ever you may have been in the world.
Xox
Tristan, Penni and Zac
When at home Australia Day typically means a public holiday (a requestite for all us public servants who have been back at work for a whole three weeks after Christmas without a break - shocking!), drinking Tooheys Extra Dry (lovingly known as TEDs in our home), listening to JJJs hottest 100 (counting the half a dozen songs we know) and spending as much time as possible in the water with your mates who will attempt to drown you at least once over the course of the day. Second to Christmas, its our favourite holiday.
This year, Tristan and I enviously read our Facebook updates watching you all complain about the heat/fires/floods and other marvelous meteorological events that make our great country the land of droughts and flooding rains. You spent the day celebrating with your "family", eating snags, pizza shapes, cabanossi and cheese, and running around in your board shorts and national footwear. You watched the Sydney fireworks on the news - after all, who wants to get up at the crack of dawn to get a decent position on the foreshore, where you can't drink and need to sit beside/on a complete stranger for hours on end only to realize the wind is blowing all the smoke from the crackers directly into your eyes so you can't see them anyway!!! Needless to say, we were very homesick.
In an effort to bring the land of Oz to the Mile High City, Tristan and I agreed to host Australia Day celebrations way back in August. The plan was that this would be our last sha-bang before RJ arrived (oh how plans change). Of course, life in its many twists and turns resulted in us paying near no attention to the date. So a week before the big day we realised that we had a party to cater for, but didn't even have enough seats for all our guests to perch on. Luckily, the great Aussie bregade came to the rescue, agreeing to each bring an Aussie platter, Tristan moved all our patio furniture into the basement (liberally "borrowing" odds and ends from our departing brethren) and we made a made dash to Sam's to get meat and salad for a BBQ. Like any good Aussie household, we didn't need beer as the pantry was already stocked ;-)
The day started out like any other: a visit to the hospital to see our little boy - who incidentally was wearing his Aussie Day best thanks to Aunty Ange. I gave him a bath and inked his feet for more footprints, while Tristan ran home to get the party started in my absence.
When I got home a couple of hours later, the house smelled of sausage rolls. Yum! Drifting into the basement I was confronted with a sea of green and gold, and Aussie flags decking every surface. There were dips and chips aplenty, Tim tams and crackers galore, beer in the esky, and wine chilling in the fridge. Devine!!!!
Denver pulled out some good weather (42 - F not C) so not long after I got home (literally Tristan didn't even give me enough time to eat lunch) we grabbed the bat and ball and headed to our local oval to confuse the neighbours with a game of cricket. It was so much fun. The little tackers put the grown ups to shame. The girls stood in the out field doing their best to disappear anytime someone new was needed to bat. And Tristan played one handed as to not spill his drink.
Later on Tristan pulled out his BBQ skills and delivered the best Aussie BBQ that Denver had ever seen. There was potato and pasta salad, something that looked like beetroot (....), a huge salad that was barely touched (in the tradition of Aussie Day - you don't make friends with salad), steak, lamb, hamburger patties (that shrunk on the BBQ and looked more like meatballs) and sausages of the chicken variety. It was a grand feast that was serenaded by the gentle whispers of Richie Benuet and the Australia Day Test match at Adeliade Oval. It felt just like home.
Then came my favourite part of the day - DESSERT!!! The Aussie ladies of Denver delivered such delight that my taste buds are still dancing. There was pavolva (covered in aerobar flacks), laminations, chocolate crackles and cake. So good! The best part was that there was left overs!!
After heavily indulging and being glad that I was wearing track pants with an elastic waist band, everyone decided to head home (early mornings the next day meant we really couldn't indulge too much more...). In an effort to help, one of the kids was carrying the left over cake to the kitchen and just missed the bench. It was the funniest thing I had seen in ages. Chocolate cake all over the floor, the little tacker standing in the middle of it not knowing whether to laugh and or cry, and Tristan's devastated face when he realised his morning tea for the week was on gone (though we did manage to save some of it). Classic Aussie Day memories.
It wasn't the same as home, but it's uniqueness made it special. The importance of being Australian when you are away from home just seems to be more. You want to scream from the mountain top that you come for the sun burnt country and make every American eat a tim tam so they can appreciate how crap their cookies really are. While we are enjoying our American adventure, we will always call Australia home - and miss it terribly while we are away.
Hope you are all well and enjoyed Australia day where ever you may have been in the world.
Xox
Tristan, Penni and Zac
Friday, 13 January 2012
Love letter to Zac's Great Grandparents
Dear Grandma, Granddad, Nan and Pop,
It's been a while since my last update, so I thought you might like know how your great grandson is growing.
It's been six (long) weeks since he was born, and let me tell you he has grown and changed so much over that time. Tristan and I visit him at the hospital everyday, and he is bigger and stronger every time we see him.
Initially, Zac was so tiny and he had tubes and machines connected up to him everywhere. It was so scary and intimidating. On the few opportunities I had to hold him I was terrified that I was going to drop him. He only reached from my chest to the bottom of my ribs and I had to be so careful when I held him so the cords wouldn't pull. Janette and I would laugh that he looked like a spider monkey - small and skinny with long arms and legs that (tried to) grab on to me. His head and face were so petite and pixie like. Adorable, but so small it just didn't seem real.
As Zac grew into his features he began to look like Gollum from Lord of the Rings (the cute curious creature that helped the hobbits - not his evil split personality). His color improved, his movements became less disjointed, and he slowly started to act like a little baby. Holding him then was easier as he was a bit bigger - but still less than 3 lbs - and there were less bits and pieces connected to him. Our cuddles got more frequent and longer. Even Tristan and Janette got to hold him.
Finally, between Christmas and New Year he started looking, acting and sounding like a real baby. His head started to grow, and fine hair started to cover it (Tristan and I are debating the color - I'm certain it is red and he thinks it's blond darkening up to brown). His body grew a bit longer, making his arms and legs look more in proportion, and everything started to fill out. He now has an adorable tubby tummy! When the nurses do their checks every three hours he grizzles, grunts and cries like other babies do - especially when they put a cold wet wipe on his bottom or play with his feet.
While he is still very small (1690g or 3 lbs 11 today) its not so scary to hold him. He only has a few cords left connected to him, so we can pick him up much more easily. When he lays on my chest he now almost reaches my belly button when he stretches out. The doctors say that once he is about 1800g he can move out of the isolette (humidicrib) and into a real crib as he has learnt some temperature control - Yay!!! We can't wait for that day.
Because Zac has grown the nurses and doctors have started to begin his physical development. He has physiothearpy 3-4 times a week where he learns to move his muscles correctly. He is doing very well and I am starting to learn the exercises so he can continue his routine when he eventually comes home. He will continue this therapy until his growth rate catches with his age - so likely until he is 3.
His breathing also continues to improve. Because his lungs are so immature he is connected to an oxygen machine that helps to inflate them. But he has moved to the lowest setting and is breathing very well. He will likely need to come home with oxygen due to the altertude. This is not unusual in Colorado and he will probably grow out of it in a couple of months.
I am most excited that Zac has started to learn to suckle. He is still fed through a tube (30mL every three hours), but once a day we sit down and spend some mummy-baby time where he learns to breast feed. It is the most wonderful experience. I could swoon about it for hours. Next week the nurses will start him on the bottle as well. While he will be drinking breast milk it is infused with formula for added calories to help him grow big and strong.
Once Zac is able to sleep in a crib without having any breathing hiccups and feed properly from a bottle he will be ready to go home. All of this will still take a couple weeks. We are aiming to have him home for his due date of 20 February - keep your fingers crossed.
All in all, your littlest (great) grandson is doing very well. We are so proud of his fighting spirit and that he has grown and developed so well. Everyone's love, thoughts and prayers have paid off.
Well, it's time for Zac's next feed so I have to be off. Give our love to everyone. We miss you all so much and can't wait for you all to meet our little man later in the year.
Lots of love
Penni (and Tristan and most importantly Zac)
It's been a while since my last update, so I thought you might like know how your great grandson is growing.
It's been six (long) weeks since he was born, and let me tell you he has grown and changed so much over that time. Tristan and I visit him at the hospital everyday, and he is bigger and stronger every time we see him.
Initially, Zac was so tiny and he had tubes and machines connected up to him everywhere. It was so scary and intimidating. On the few opportunities I had to hold him I was terrified that I was going to drop him. He only reached from my chest to the bottom of my ribs and I had to be so careful when I held him so the cords wouldn't pull. Janette and I would laugh that he looked like a spider monkey - small and skinny with long arms and legs that (tried to) grab on to me. His head and face were so petite and pixie like. Adorable, but so small it just didn't seem real.
As Zac grew into his features he began to look like Gollum from Lord of the Rings (the cute curious creature that helped the hobbits - not his evil split personality). His color improved, his movements became less disjointed, and he slowly started to act like a little baby. Holding him then was easier as he was a bit bigger - but still less than 3 lbs - and there were less bits and pieces connected to him. Our cuddles got more frequent and longer. Even Tristan and Janette got to hold him.
Finally, between Christmas and New Year he started looking, acting and sounding like a real baby. His head started to grow, and fine hair started to cover it (Tristan and I are debating the color - I'm certain it is red and he thinks it's blond darkening up to brown). His body grew a bit longer, making his arms and legs look more in proportion, and everything started to fill out. He now has an adorable tubby tummy! When the nurses do their checks every three hours he grizzles, grunts and cries like other babies do - especially when they put a cold wet wipe on his bottom or play with his feet.
While he is still very small (1690g or 3 lbs 11 today) its not so scary to hold him. He only has a few cords left connected to him, so we can pick him up much more easily. When he lays on my chest he now almost reaches my belly button when he stretches out. The doctors say that once he is about 1800g he can move out of the isolette (humidicrib) and into a real crib as he has learnt some temperature control - Yay!!! We can't wait for that day.
Because Zac has grown the nurses and doctors have started to begin his physical development. He has physiothearpy 3-4 times a week where he learns to move his muscles correctly. He is doing very well and I am starting to learn the exercises so he can continue his routine when he eventually comes home. He will continue this therapy until his growth rate catches with his age - so likely until he is 3.
His breathing also continues to improve. Because his lungs are so immature he is connected to an oxygen machine that helps to inflate them. But he has moved to the lowest setting and is breathing very well. He will likely need to come home with oxygen due to the altertude. This is not unusual in Colorado and he will probably grow out of it in a couple of months.
I am most excited that Zac has started to learn to suckle. He is still fed through a tube (30mL every three hours), but once a day we sit down and spend some mummy-baby time where he learns to breast feed. It is the most wonderful experience. I could swoon about it for hours. Next week the nurses will start him on the bottle as well. While he will be drinking breast milk it is infused with formula for added calories to help him grow big and strong.
Once Zac is able to sleep in a crib without having any breathing hiccups and feed properly from a bottle he will be ready to go home. All of this will still take a couple weeks. We are aiming to have him home for his due date of 20 February - keep your fingers crossed.
All in all, your littlest (great) grandson is doing very well. We are so proud of his fighting spirit and that he has grown and developed so well. Everyone's love, thoughts and prayers have paid off.
Well, it's time for Zac's next feed so I have to be off. Give our love to everyone. We miss you all so much and can't wait for you all to meet our little man later in the year.
Lots of love
Penni (and Tristan and most importantly Zac)
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