I realized today that I have not yet posted a blog from our new house! Dave asked me what this meant and I replied that it either means I'm doing awesome or gravely lacking introspection. 

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind. We have moved in, set up the Christmas tree, experienced the craziness of Christmas with two toddlers, packed away the Christmas tree, installed a shelf, put up curtain rods, hemmed curtains, built a letter box, painted tables and chairs, affixed a clothesline to the house and gravely given kids multiple warnings as to marks on walls... We are officially homeowners!

Every morning when we wake up, every time we get home, and every time we re-enter our kitchen, we are filled with awe as to how absolutely blessed we are to have our own home. Despite all that has happened recently, we keenly feel the amazing opportunity that has come our way. 

Hudson has been incredible since his surgery. Happy, talkative and inquisitive, he now responds enthusiastically when you ask him if he wants more food with 'muh, muh!' It is so refreshing to experience Hudson as a kid interested with and enthused by life. A few times now Dave and I have remarked that he is the easy kid now!

Our ninth anniversary mostly went off without a hitch, with a family dinner at TGI Fridays for happy hour. I struggled as usual with unrealised expectations, thinking naively that the kids should somehow understand it was our special day and decide not to whinge, whine or crack it. That didn't happen!

The biggest issues since being here have been a shower flooding on the first night, an awful feeling that the rash, conjunctivitis and runny nose of Eli was the measles (it's not), and a random incident where the soil delivery truck damaged the guttering of our neighbor's house. 

Otherwise, our occupancy has been residential bliss, with Dave fully rising to the occasion as handy man and equipping himself with a complete set of power tools. Rarely a day goes by without a trip to Bunnings! It's pretty cool watching him transform into the homeowner role actually.

The sentence that most goes through my mind these days is 'we are blessed'. With family, with crazy kids, with great friends, with meaningful experiences, and with a house to finally call our own. 

"If you go down in the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise..."

For pretty much the entirety of Hudson's short existence I have wanted to throw him a Teddy Bears' Picnic. Mum has a beautifully illustrated book that captures all the wonder and magic of this occasion, and all the amazing molded jellies and cream cakes absolutely inspired me!

Due to the move and Christmas, however, all the usual planning was left until the last minute. Despite this setback and the weather meaning we had to host at our house, there was more than enough party food, peach iced tea in cocktail glasses, teddy shaped birthday cake, 1930s jingles and teddies hiding in (christmas) trees for everyone to have a merry time.

Despite Hudson being only a couple of weeks post surgery, he revelled in being the centre of attention and inhaled more than his fair share of birthday cake! 

Pictures tell the story with much more eloquence than I can muster, so here are a few of the best.

I'm sitting in the hospital cafeteria, waiting. The buzzer is next to my phone and I keep glancing at it just in case it goes off and I miss it. Hudson is in surgery.

It has been a crazy, emotional, exhausting, enriching, inspiring week. More than ever we have realised the importance of having a community entangled in our lives, not just to share the good stuff but the hard times too. We have had meals delivered, gardens landscaped, boxes packed, kids taken care of, house cleaned and hands held by a community that has really pulled together for us at this difficult time.

Tuesday was the curette for me. Amazingly, my recovery has been very smooth with almost no pain, so the packing for Saturday has been able to continue. Emotionally, we feel more adjusted to the reality that our family numbers four, for now. Physically, I am reveling in not feeling pregnant for no reason anymore and being able to get up easily in the morning and not struggle to keep food down. Our time will come again, but a little break will be well appreciated!

Hudson has had an epic week. On Sunday he finally learnt how to crawl, he is now pulling up to standing and rolling over in his bed. He has learnt to use the potty for number twos, is having his first operation and will move into our new house tomorrow! He has been a different person, so determined, focused and happy. More and more I realise he is very similar to me and I gain a greater empathy for him.

This morning was hard. Holding onto a screaming baby who hasn't eaten or drunk anything for over 12 hours sucks at the best of times, but a kid who loves his food as much as Hudson (!), nightmare. I held him in my arms as they put him to sleep and barely managed to hold it together. The feeling as you say goodbye and leave your baby lying on a surgical table with strangers, very tough. That and the combination of being in the exact same place with the same smells as Tuesday also made things difficult.

Even though this week has been intense, I feel as if we are feeling life more keenly, the pain and the joy, and turning less to distractions to numb ourselves. Faith is becoming more crucial, less theoretical. Friends are becoming closer and relationships deepening. We are blessed.

There goes that buzzer.

In a previous post I alluded to the fact that we were pregnant with our third child.

On Monday I went along to a scheduled dating ultrasound, nine weeks along. I had never been to one of these before, having simply waited for the 12 week scan. Having felt pretty fatigued and sick for the past 7 weeks, I assured Dave that he didn't have to come as it was his peak busy time of year at school.

I could see pretty quickly from the technician's face that something wasn't right. She informed me that she could see a pregnancy sac but no baby. She would need to do an internal ultrasound. I went to get dressed in the navy hospital gown, trying very hard not to panic. There must be some mistake, I thought, she will surely find the baby soon.

I lay back down on the table but there was no good news to be shared. Apparently, I have a blighted ovum, so my body still (even now) thinks I'm pregnant. The lady kept asking if I was OK, and I kept numbly replying that I was. I managed to hold in my tears until I was hidden in the bathroom to change back into my clothes. Back in the waiting room I checked my messages with a tear stained face. Dave had left a few excited texts asking how it was going. I responded with the outcome and waited to see the doctor.

As soon as I was back in the car I called Dave but he hadn't seen the message. When he found out the story he left school immediately to come home. We wept and sat there numbly. As the kids were at Pat's house I decided that I would try and get my mind off the news by crossing some things off my to do list.

I kissed Dave goodbye and headed to the shops. It was pouring with rain. After dropping off some letters in the post box I got back in the car. The next thing I remember is wondering why two lines of cars were turning right in front of me. Too late I realised that I was running a red light. I swerved and braked but it was pointless. The impact came and I felt the tire blow. I skidded to a halt and shakily got out into the rain. The car I hit pulled up behind me. The inhabitants were pretty angry.

I apologised over and over and affirmed it was all my fault. I shared that I had just heard bad news and her demeanor changed. She told me to hop into the back seat so we could exchange details. The next little while was a blur of phone calls, talking to the police, standing in the rain and cursing to myself about my stupidity. The Senior Constable was very kind and didn't even give me a lecture, despite the clear infringement.

Ironically, I've paid for comprehensive car insurance for the past ten years, but two months ago we changed it to third party to save some money. So now, we are stuck with a useless car wreck two weeks before we are set to move.

Last night Dave and I opened an expensive bottle of wine to commemorate the short life that has impacted us so much. We don't know whether the baby lived for hours, weeks or minutes, but in our minds they had already become part of our future. Goodbye Frankie, we will remember you forever.

Gotta love those times in life when you get squeezed so hard that your true colors show. Unfortunately, my colors were less Van Gogh, more Picasso.

After Thursday night I was already struggling, having battled through a tough day with Hudson and a mammoth hernia related sleep stand off until 1:30am. (And by battled I mean I fumed in bed while Dave did all the hard work!) Hudson has these times, about once a week for the past month now, where he screams hysterically up to 2 hours, then vomits. I took him to the doctors and was redirected to Monash emergency department. Pat was amazing, meeting me at the doctors and taking Eli off my hands for the anticipated long wait at the hospital. We met with the doctor and now have an appointment for Wednesday to meet with the surgeons.

I don't deal well with the unexpected. And realising more and more I have almost zero ability to control my son's grumpiness is throwing me big time. I have some hope that this grumpy patch is related to pain, but if it is just personality I'm going to have to adjust to that.

I had a sleepover at Mum and Dad's last night that was organised by Dave. It is safe to say that my emotional energy had hit an all time low! Dave shipped me off and manned the fort alone, even whipped up some pancakes for the boys in the morning.

During the escape I had a few realisations. Firstly, I have 'Emotional Amnesia'. If anything has been going on for a while, like this grumpiness, I literally cannot recall a time when it wasn't like that. Now, if things are going well, the condition is amazing! But, like recently, when things are tough, my outlook becomes catastrophic.

Secondly, when I woke to a peaceful sun filled morning and a hot Milo in bed brought by mum, I leisurely checked Facebook and saw an article '13 things mentally strong people don't do'. Well, it turns out that I had been doing at least half the things on that list! Things like not stewing over the realities that you can't control, not making the same mistakes over and over...That threw me because I consider myself at least somewhat mentally strong.

Needless to say, the combination of realisations has helped me get back on track a little. That, and the ever present blessing of family having your back at every step.

Is it acceptable to be a good mum most (maybe make that, some) of the time? At the moment I feel that the majority of the day I'm OK, we manage the ebbs and flows with a degree of grace and everything is fine, until something happens to press my buttons and I'm off. I never knew I was a yeller. Now, usually when Eli intentionally causes a mess or hurts Hudson, I let loose.

I apologize, of course, and explain to Eli that sometimes mummy makes mistakes, but I  wonder how long it will take before he starts to question why the same mistakes happen over and over.

Lately, it seems as if we are trapped back in the Hudson nightmare as well. He will spend most of the day whinging, and only be satisfied with an activity for about 4 minutes. I am close to breaking point. Instead of any measure of sympathy, the sound of him whining instantly makes me irritated and then I feel bad for not being a responsive mother. At the moment, I really feel as if I'm simply not equipped to meet his needs.

Today he has slept a grand total of 2.5 hours since 6:30am (it is now 9:20pm). He is currently screaming again as I write this post. What can I do? I'm so exhausted and emotional and honestly don't have anything left to give. That plus the thought in my mind that in 7 months there is going to be three kids. If I feel like this with two, how the hell can I cope with three?

Thank God for an amazing husband and family, but even with the support, I'm still not sure how this one will play out. Any ideas, God?

Is it normal to constantly question your identity and wonder why you are the way that you are? Our house has been a lot quieter recently and the walls seem to echo with these questions. It may help I'm having a break from alcohol at the moment, so the thoughts are much more successful at breaking through.

I was saying today to Dave that stay at home mothers must either end up a little crazy or very well adjusted in the search for meaning. When I worked, even for two days a week, it was so easy to stop the questioning at 'this is my job title, therefore I am'. Stripped of the label and easy way to classify my time I do find it more difficult to articulate self definition.

My youngest sister is someone that I really admire (and not just because she reads this blog :p). To me it seems that she lives life largely indifferent to what those around her think, obviously not completely because that would be impossible. If she disagrees with you, she tells you, but is also open to being challenged on her assumptions. I'm not like that at all. If I disagree with someone, even family or close friends sometimes, often I will smile a small tight smile and nod, hoping the conversation will quickly shift to other topics.

Why do I care so much about what other people think? I mostly find it refreshing when someone disagrees with me, so what is so scary about putting my contrary view out there? Either that or (if sufficiently provoked) I'll lose all sense of filter and unleash the inner Emma on exactly what I think and leave little remains. Just talk to our (now ex) housemates who had the unfortunate experience of two house 'meetings' in which this beast was let loose.

Dave is also the opposite to me. If something needs to be said, he says it, even if the truth will initially smart a bit. I admire his courage even if I squirm a little in the moment that he unleashes his views.

One of the biggest challenges about being a mum is seeing your faults reflected back at you in your children. Often it can cause the most inner discord, viewing in plain sight the things you desperately don't want others to know about yourself. I guess you can either turn to 'dullers' like alcohol or food, or bravely gulp down your fears and face it head on. For now at least, I'm trying to choose the latter.