Baby fever

A friend of ours has just had her second baby and one of my best friends is having her first in just ten short weeks.
It has really hit home that we no longer have a baby, but a boy.
They are (or soon will be) grappling with breastfeeding, night waking, dummies, swaddling, tummy time, bottles, sterilising and wondersuits. It seems like a million years since we even thought about all of that, and it brings into sharp focus what we'll have to encounter again if we have another child.
It's true that the next time I won't have to agonise over every little detail. I now know that whether or not to rock a baby isn't a life or death decision.
Am I ready for all that again? Certainly not yet. Even if Ari is pointing out babies left, right and centre. He even pointed them out to me in a Toys R Us catalogue today. Talk about pressure!

Wilco World

I should really call this a baby/music blog. There seems to have been a lot of it lately.
Last week was all about Wilco. For anyone not familiar, they're a band from Chicago formed from the roots of alt-country band Uncle Tupelo and led by singer/songwriter Jeff Tweedy.
Wilco means a lot to Rob and I - our wedding waltz was to a Wilco song called California Stars.
Their Palais show last week was only the second time we'd seen them live - the first was at a Big Day Out about four years ago.
It was a brilliant show, but for many people, their last show at the Palais (we stupidly didn't go) can't be topped. A few people I know rate it as their best-ever concert.
Still, it was bloody fantastic. Jeff Tweedy has kicked his drug habit and looks so much more together. The band were awesome. I didn't even notice two hours go by. Not even some drunk, talky-talks in front of us could ruin the show. Tweedy finished with an acoustic Uncle Tupelo song. It was so ace, I bought a Wilco hoodie!
The only downside is our concert ticket wad is all used up. No more shows on the horizon...

Snippets from a conversation over lunch

Ari: Daddy car?
Carla: No, darling. Daddy's car isn't here anymore. It wasn't really Daddy's car, even though we called it that. It belongs to Andrew, Daddy's cousin. Daddy was just minding it for Andrew. Now Andrew has taken his car back. I know it must be hard for you to understand that.
Ari: Daddy car?
Carla: No, darling. (Repeat of long-winded explanation)
Ari: Daddy little car (pointing to Rob's treasured toy Trabant car from Germany).
Carla: Oh! You mean Daddy's toy car? Oh, of course, darling. Sorry, Mummy should have realised.

Man, what a dimwit I am some days!

Funny, funny boy

Ari is utterly hilarious. At least, we find him so. Some examples to push my case for the affirmative:
1. At our getaway cottage this weekend, Rob and I were busying ourselves with unpacking in the bedroom. We walked into the lounge room to find Ari, remote control in hand, trying to switch on the wood heater.
2. If he spills something in his high chair, he says "ooh..bugger". It's so, so hard not to laugh. We shouldn't laugh at him (sort of) swearing, but it is very very funny.

Holiday!

Well, not really. But that's what Ari called our weekend sojourn to the Yarra Valley.
It was lovely. We stayed at the beautiful Yering Gorge Cottages*, which Ari just adored. The cottages are set on a gentle slope, just perfect for top-speed bike fanging. We went on a short bushwalk to a nearby waterfall and the boy relished the opportunity to pick up lots of sticks (a relatively new obsession).
Ari also had the chance to try out his new travel cot, called a KinderKot. We found ourselves in a little bind - Ari had outgrown his conventional travel cot (the boy really does take after his tall, tall Dad), but it seemed silly to shell out on another travel cot when he'll soon be in a bed. Trouble is, in between that time, we'd still like to travel. The Kinderkot (basically a mini tent with its own inflatable mattress) is supposed to sleep kids as old as four, so we thought it would be a good investment. It was a hit...Ari loved sleeping in his "tent bed".
Today we took the boy to Healesville Sanctuary, which was okay (loads of American tourists + not too many native animals = not much fun), until we got to the Birds of Prey demonstration. Ari was absolutely enthralled. He sat almost perfectly still for a full half-hour and for the first five minutes of the demonstration yelled "WOW!", to the hilarity of some around us (I think others were a bit peeved). Whenever a bird flew back to its HQ, he would say "come back bird!"
Needless to say, it was the highlight of Healesville Sanctuary for us.
So a trip to the Yarra Valley and not a single winery visit. I think that's what you'd call parenthood.

*Disclosure: Rob designed the website for Yering Gorge Cottages.

Off with the Pixies

The past week of our lives has been dominated by one thing: the Pixies.
After waiting all of my adult life to see them live, I have seen them twice, with one more time to come on Wednesday night at V Festival.
In our Festival of Pixies we have been listening to their albums, discussing their lyrics, watching them on You Tube, trying to stalk them at our local pub (failed dismally) and relishing the utter joy of seeing them perform live.
I won't bore you with the details, other to say that seeing Pixies at the Northcote Social Club last Tuesday was without a doubt the best gig I have ever seen (the reigning champ was Radiohead at Festival Hall, 1998).
It wasn't just the thrill of seeing your favourite band perform for the first time, it was a secret gig, it was at OUR LOCAL, they sounded amazing, Jarvis Cocker was there. It was huge. Did I get a little teary when they played Where Is My Mind? My oath I did. At one point they opened the curtain in the bandroom and all you could see was people's faces pressed up against the glass watching from the bar. I'm told it was deathly quiet in there because everyone wanted to listen to the band. There was also a crowd outside listening. It was incredible.
After the gig we had to rush home to relieve our babysitters, but my sister and her friends decided to stay on for a beer and debrief in the bar. They all bought their beers and just sat around shocked. That's what it was like for at least a day after that gig. None of us could quite believe we were there.
Then came Wednesday night at the Palace, St Kilda. Despite an almost identical set-list, it was a completely different vibe - a massive singalong celebration. The band sounded amazing once again. I could go on for hours, but I won't. More after V on Wednesday...