Jude is Two

Dear Jude

When I say goodnight to you, I say “see you when you are sleeping.” Your Daddy thinks that is super creepy. But at the moment, you don’t realise how many times I visit you during the night to check on you, and because I miss you. 
I adjust your covers, and feel your cheeks to make sure you are perfectly warm, but not too warm. I stroke your hair, and notice in awe at how much space you occupy in your little cot. 

I whisper wishes and dreams and gratitude. I bless you over and over with what power I have. 

Tonight I whispered to your sleeping ears that I hoped you enjoyed your last day of being one. 

You didn’t. 

You’ve been unwell for 26 days in a row. You are sick, tired and fully over it. Sick of being inside, sick of being with me, sick of being made to blow your nose or have some water. 

You went totally fucking mental at Officeworks yesterday which nearly ruined stationery for me forever. I stand by it – I still don’t think you need a 10 pack of archive boxes or a half-inch gold permanent marker. 

You cried at nappy changes. 

You flat out lied about doing a poo even though you were pooing at the same time as grunting “Gnnnoooo!” I didn’t think toddlers could even tell porkies.

You hated all food groups that were not icypoles, chocolate or biscuits. 

And lo, dare we interrupt your misery for essentials such as dinner, bathing, or sleep. 

You spent this evening wheeling around on your tricycle in the most awkward fashion, losing your shit if we suggested the pedals. You know, the whole mechanism behind bike riding. You are right, we are fools. *sarcasm*.

But then when I fake cry out of frustration (okay, the cry was genuine) you pat my back and say “It’s otay Mum, it’s otay.”

And you are right.  It is otay. 

You are one today for the very last time. 

You are two tomorrow. 

But you will always be my sweet boy. 

My sun. My son. 


I love you, otay? 


Happy 1st Birthday, Jude!

Dear Jude

We woke to snowfall on your birthday.  It snowed the week we brought you home from hospital, a year ago now.


Last night before we went to sleep, Daddy and I talked about what we were doing this time last year.  We both can’t believe that before our very eyes, you have grown so much, so quickly.



The first thing I ever said to you, was Happy Birthday.  Before I even said your name aloud to you, I celebrated the day of your birth.  Daddy reminded me that for a long time I just held you, not quite believing that you were real, or mine. You’re my baby,  you’re my baby.  Hello, Jude. 


But you are so, so real.  You don’t let me have a chance to believe otherwise.  You are constantly with me, in my arms or on my tail, calling out my name.  You talk to yourself, to me, to the dogs, to the TV, to the birds, to the trees. You growl and hiss and bang and pull things out of cupboards over and over again.  You love food.  You love water. You throw your head back  and laugh.  You check if I am watching you when you are being clever and especially when you are being naughty. You are cheeky.  You are moody when something doesn’t work out how you planned.  You are so mine.

My favourite time with you at the moment is when you spend a long time trying to convince me that you are not ready for a nap… yet when we get to your room, and you hear the music softly playing, you lay your head on my chest and melt into me.  You sigh, and stroke the back of my arm.  And we just hold each other.  I don’t want to put you down.  I never want to let you go.

I constantly go between wanting you to stay my baby forever, and being excited about all the amazing things you’ll do with you life.

Jude Mum Dad

Thank you for the most amazing gift of being your Mum.

Thank you for being my best mate.

I love you Jude.



To everyone reading: our journey ends here.  Thank YOU for coming aboard, coming along, supporting me, us, Jude.  Loving me, us, Jude.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Mother-Blogger signing off.

With love,

Rachael and Jude xxx





Bye! (ish)

I have officially run out of things to report back to you about. I’m all about quality, so to that end I wish to advise that this, and Jude’s birthday post will be among my last updates.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while now and in the back of my mind every time I’ve written a post is a little voice telling me “what a load of crap” or *chandler bing voice* “could you BE any more boring?!” Please do not answer that lol

And as we all know, women like to feel guilty about stuff, it’s what we do, and I really feel like a year has flown by, almost without me knowing even though I have actively tried to be present and engaged in every single waking moment of Jude’s life.

Each day I spend with him makes me want him more…so those moments I have grabbed here and there to frantically tap away at a post are becoming more valuable for me to apply that time to Jude or if he is asleep…to housework or patting my dogs or ignoring my husband or socialising or doing nothing at all (ha! I made that last bit up!)

He is going to change more and faster from now on and life will get busier for us…and I know I will need and want time with him more than anything.

My email address is rayplaag02@gmail.com 

PLEASE keep in touch with me, honestly. I would love that.

And finally, thank you. I started this blog because your blogs were there to help me when I needed it, this was my way of giving back. But in reality you have given me so much more. And definitely more than words can express. Close your eyes and feel the warmth of a rare but very genuine hug from me. One where I let go last, so you know that I love you.

Without you guys in my life, I would not be the mother I am. Thank you.

Love from

Rachael and Jude


Jude, 10 & 11 Months


Jude 10 Months

Jude turned 10 months old on 23 May 2016, so naturally weeks later I am writing the accompanying monthly update!

During the 10th month, we learned that Jude is cheeky.  He knows the word “No” but his understanding is “By all means, continue what you are doing…” So when I say “No, don’t lick the dog beds/the dogs/their water bowl” or “Don’t stick that peg in the powerpoint/eat that receipt/kiss the bottom of my shoes” all Jude hears is “That’s a fabulous idea! Proceed!” I was not prepared for this blatant disregard for rules at such a young age!

We had TWO WEEKS (Yes, two whole weeks!) where no-one in our household was sick! Hoorah! Yet we did, because we count the dogs as family and the big doggy went to emergency vet with humongous hives. Hubby has literally just finished saying “My bonus is great this month, we have a bit of money to play with!” Not anymore!

I’m applying for a temporary position that is 4 days a fortnight for the same amount of pay I am getting for 6 horrid days a fortnight in my shitkicker position in my old workplace, so I’d actually be insane not to apply. More time with Jude, less time in daycare, more money. Ahhh… if someone created a job just for me, this would be it.  So wish me luck, because I do feel a bit stabby-stabby at work at the moment.

Oh my god – so I’ve taken a cutesty monthly photo of him on our couch.  I have to painfully admit that going through my photo files, I TOTALLY FUCKING FORGOT TO TAKE A 5-MONTH PHOTO!  You know, ‘cos I can just get in my Delorean and go back in mother-fucking time.  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! So annoyed – with myself!  Also photo-related, it’s a two-person job to take this photo as Jude insists on launching himself off the couch.

Jude has the same two bottom teeth, none apparently on their way. He’s still commando crawling, he is deliberately not practicing standing anymore – got sick of that or something.  We took him out of swimming lessons for the time being – not sure if that was making him sick or making it harder for him to recover.  Such a heartbreaking decision because he LOVED swimming.


Jude 11 Months

Boy, was I wrong about teeth.  Jude is cutting all four top front teeth at once.  It’s nasty. And they are Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge. Huge.  So big.  It’s not right!

Daycare is going really well for him.  He loves it, he is going to his carer so well.  I sneak in of an afternoon and watch him play for a bit, before he spots me.  He’ll climb over them and just generally use people as climbing walls and they happily let him.

My MIL, his Nanny, comes on Tuesdays to our house, and they love that time together.  She’s recently learned how to send photo text messages (yes, really, bless her) and so now either Hubby or I get a photo update during the day. So cute. I do have to hand him over and run of a morning, because he associates seeing his Nanny with his Mummy leaving and that doesn’t go down all that well. She assures me that he stops crying before I even reach my car. Still…

We have found a local play centre which is AWESOME! It’s 5 minutes from our house and our mother’s groups have started meeting there. The babies are all in different stages of being active, so a bit more space doesn’t hurt.  Plus, coffee.

Sadly, we have started planning Jude’s 1st Birthday party.  I feel sick, sad, vomity. Just. NO. How? And more importantly, WHEN?  When did all that time happen to us? My baby! We’re actually going to the aforementioned playcentre so his older cousins (and young-at-heart older family members) can enjoy the pay centre. #pluswedonthavetocaterorcleanup

Baby boy is so clever, is so many ways. He’s using words at the right times – calling out for me or naming the dogs and the sound they make. Commando crawling but I think he’ll skip ‘proper’ crawling. Pulling himself up and supporting himself standing by holding on. LOTS of pointing. Directs us where he wants us to take him and if he reeeeally wants something we get a double point. Blowing raspberries, using a fork, getting the hang of self-service with a sippy cup. Making connections and memories like realising he knows a song and claps and the right times. Dancing and bopping to music. Both bottom teeth, four top teeth almost through. Think that’s about it! Oh, knows when he is being mischievous and is being asked to stop lol

We just love him so much.






To the giggling guys at the gym… let it out.  Go on… ha ha ha ha ha ha SO FUNNY.  I mean, I assume you are talking and laughing about me as I jogged past.  I’ll never know.  And mainly because I don’t care enough to ask.

Was it my bright red face? The perspiration? The fact that I wore no make-up and that my budget stretches only to Kmart workout gear and not Fabletics or Lorna Jane? Was it how my face got more and more red, and my jog, slower and slower as the workout went on? Maybe.  Who knows.  Who cares.

You can laugh, that’s cool.  You probably shouldn’t though. Because we were all sharing the gym space.  All there for a reason.  It would have been much nicer to give me an encouraging smile – or ignore me altogether and leave me in my zone.  But you snuck in and annoyed me. Fine.

You don’t know this though. You don’t know what path led me to the gym.  A poisonous disease attacking my reproductive organs.  The prospect of never having children.  The surgeries.  Doctors removing part of my body.  Shitting through my stomach for three months.  The drugs. The injections.The hormones. The mood swings. The anguish. Having my children grow in a petri dish instead of in me. Then in me, and living in a constant state of terror for 247 days. Fearing for my unborn child for a month. Trying to peacefully birth him. Trying to raise him, while living in a constant state of guilt and washing. The breastfeeding.  My body working literally 24/7 to feed my infant. Returning to work, leaving the biggest part of my heart in someone else’s care. Having my heart broken every single time he goes to sleep because I love him and miss him so.And then 10 months of utter delight of maternity leave.

I’ve never worked out in my life.  I am as surprised as anyone that the gym didn’t erupt into flames as I entered. Half an hour of the treadmill would be 100% improvement in my fitness regime which last month was absolutely zero.  That’s probably why I nearly fainted the first night.  (But came back).  Or why I developed a burning hatred for burpees the second night (Aaaand came back).  But do you know what, funny guys, going to the gym and doing a super intense workout with a personal trainer, well, it’s actually the kindest thing I’ve done to my body in a long, long time. See that list above? Ha. My body is actually taking it easy.

So laugh it up boys.  You think you’re taller/better/faster/stronger than me?  Wrong.

I make tiny humans with my body. What’s your superpower.


Jude, 10 Months

Hi there folks!

Yesterday, Jude was 10 months old.  TEN MONTHS OLD.  That’s two months until he turns 1.  MY BABY. Thoroughly depressing.  Motherhood time continues to be a mix of missing Jude being a new baby, enjoying what he is now (an ankle-biting terror), and also looking forward to who he’ll become.

We started at work and daycare four weeks ago, and Jude has attended 3 days out of 8 due to illness.  He’s had two different viruses, gastro and an ear infection. We took him to hospital (twice) due to severe dehydration from the gastro virus.  We’re talking pale, floppy, 240mls in 24hrs (plus vomiting/diarrhea), fever. The works.  That was so incredibly scary to experience with him. And yeah, so I’ve only been at work 8 days out of 12 since coming back from maternity leave.  They ain’t happy.  (But they can also go fuck themselves since they are the biggest bunch of cunts in the history of mouldy old twats)

To other news…Jude is just the most incredibly gorgeous little man in the whole world no exceptions. He’s the light of my life and he makes every painful minute away from him worthwhile simply by existing at the end of the day.

Jude has learned a few noise words, and these are in order of preference:

  1. Dad
  2. Woof
  3. Dog
  4. Nan
  5. Duck
  6. Quack
  7. Mum

May I please draw your attention to the fact that two animals, and the noises they make, came before Mama. Life-giver.  Bringer-into-the-worlder.


Developmentally, he’s stuck midway between extremely fast commando-crawling / doing push-ups. There is no actual crawling (and no real need, as he can get everywhere he wants to go, and quickly!) The baby gate which we have had propped ajar for as long as we’ve had it is an easy feat for Jude, he just swings it open, crawls through and away he goes up the hallway.  He’s considerate enough to spin around and close it behind him as he goes.  So with this little talent, he can navigate the whole house and you know what, a baby is VERY easy to lose when they are fast, quiet and low to the ground.  He goes into rooms and closes the door behind him, which is kind of a give away. Something else that alerts me to his location is the “thunk ding thunk” of his head hitting all the railings underneath our bed as he crawls into his favourite hiding spot.

Jude’s starting to bop around to singing and music and still loves playing the drums.  Sometimes he accompanies himself on the xylophone.  He uses both hands with a drumstick in each which I think is pretty clever for someone who is 10 months old, let alone someone who literally licks the dog bed. And the dogs for that matter.

I’m pretty certain he’s a “Leftie” so have been practicing writing his name left-handed so that I have a hope in hell of teaching him how to write. If Jude turns out to be right-handed, well then, I have a new skill to add to my resume.

Over the last month I’ve found joy in the strangest of times.  Like last night, when I calmly held my baby as he projectile vomited his dinner and bottle.  Softly rocking him, while we were both covered in spewed-up carrots and corn.  Saying “I got you.  Mama’s got ya.” And the secret joy in being able to comfort my little human being. (And having a little human being to comfort).


And – this will be the last time I mention work because they seriously do not deserve any more mentions – knowing that I have Jude and that everything I do is for him, I have discovered that I can do anything for Jude. Anything. So take that, fuckers.  Do your worst! At the end of the day, I have a charming little prince who adores the hell out of me, and I can do absolutely anything if its for him.  Ner ner ner boogey. Take your discrimination, take your bullying, take your over-zealous nitpicking and criticizing and shove it up your butt because I DO NOT CARE.  Everything I need in this world lives at my home, and I’m just here to take your money and go home and have a beautiful life.  You fucks.


********pleasantries recommence*********

Jude’s managed a few key words at the right times, such as “Bye Bye Nan Nan” and “Hey Dada”.  Eye-wateringly cute moments to say the least. It still amazes me that one day we’ll be having conversations, you know.

Bath time is an experience.  A dripping wet experience.  He’s a bit of a thrasher, our Jude. He LOVES sneezing underwater and the sound that makes is hilarious.  Hubby cries with delight every time Jude does it.  Just imagine it – “Aaaa-chbbbbbbbbllllll”  So darn cute.


His stats are a bit up the creek, with having been so crook for the last month he has lost a bit of weight and now weighs the same as he did 6 weeks ago, which is just not right.  He’s gaining it back again, which suits him a heap better.  I didn’t like my little man as a skinny minny. But he’s so tall!  So get this, if he’s not even a year old and is 75cms tall and I’m 165cms tall, than means he has less than a metre to catch up to me… and he’s not even 1 year old!  He is going to be a mountain.  I’m going to need a bigger house and more food.

He has two teeth (still). He’s pretty good with them as well – likes to gnaw on the stainless steel table legs uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh god my blood runs cold just thinking about the noise.  *Shudder*  I literally have actual goosebumps.  But food wise, we’ve had to fully revert back to formula while he was sick, so only in the last day or two has Jude been having solid meals.  I let him have some bacon from my weekend breakfast, and he LOVES bacon.  Yeah boy!

It is sooooo good to come home to his smiley happy face.  He sees me and BEAMS!  That’s love.


I hope everyone is well.

Much Love,

Mother-Blogger and Jude