"You Gotta See the Bay-bee!"

Considering I have, you know, A BABY, I thought I would give an update. Because, I did actually pine for him for years before he came - and now he's here - and I'm still trying to be not so damn preoccupied with the stupid cancer Fiasco.

Sometimes, I sniff and sniff and sniff his head, and get sad that one day he will grow up and leave me, and I will never be able to sniff his head anymore. I want to travel to different countries with him ... with Tiger too. I want them to love me. I want to not fuck them up too much. Monkey smiles at everyone he meets .... even scary dudes. (Like, in the grocery store or something. I don't take him to biker hangouts or anything).

He has his mums big man hands and feet. He still doesn't roll over. I have asked my sisters ... "Hey, what do babies do?" I click on blogs - "normal" blogs, where people don't swear and rage at the moon. I click on them to see what Monkey possibly should be doing by now. (My brain just does not work these days). Then I do the same things with him, and he loves it. Thank God for the normal people, otherwise he would just play with my keys for a year.

He is on solids ... I know it's early, but trust me - the guy wanted food. I've pureed up some veggies for him, he gobbles it down in two seconds flat. Most of this week, he had store-bought food, because I couldn't get my shit together. There is a whole fresh, organic range in the fridge at the supermarket. Oh yeah!!

I finally got him weighed at the clinic - the nurse gave me grief about putting him on solids too early. Previously, the other nurse had given me grief about having him on soy milk. I will never go back there again - I have enough grief. I also have a healthy baby, so fuck off. Some people just shame other people, for no good reason.

Monkey weighs 7 kilos. In nine days he will be five months old. He smiles with his entire face, loves chewing on his hands, and ADORES his big brother Tiger.

He is sleeping pretty well, sometimes five hour stretches, occasionally the whole night.

Tiger was eating a pizza bread roll. I was out of the room, came back in, and sensed something happened. "What?" I said to Tiger.

Without missing a beat, he told me he crushed up a tiny bit of ham with lots of water and gave it to Monkey, and Monkey loved it. Pork water, ladies. My baby ate PORK WATER.

We went out for dinner for the first time the other night ... I forgot his food, bottle, bib and nappies. Seriously! Lucky it was my friends pizza restaurant. I went over and asked if he could make Monkey some pumpkin soup. He loved it.

Last year, when I started to tell people I got pregnant on IVF #1, I got mainly the same response ... "Ohhh, it worked straight away! It was meant to be!"

It irked me. What of the people who it didn't work for straight away. Was it not meant to be? Then, when Mr TC got diagnosed, people would say ... "Ohhhh, what terrible timing!"

If it was "meant to be" from the beginning, then there would have been no terrible timing at the end. I kept repeating myself to people. "Look, sometimes there's no good or bad, right or wrong. It just IS."

Of course I have wondered how differently I would be parenting a baby, had my hubbie not gotten that pesky cancer when he did. I don't know. I also wonder, how would I have coped with Mr TCs cancer if I didn't have a baby? All pointless questions, really.

He is beautiful. So handsome. I'm not biased ... he really is a fucking handsome little guy. Like his big brother. Speaking of which ... his BIGGEST brother, the sixteen year old one ... will be back here on Monday. Where IS that stepmother hat of mine? I know I left it hanging around the place somewhere ...



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Tonight, my Beige Guy is the Beigest. Chemo day is so putrid and grey. The energy here gets all fucked up. I realise that every chemo, I always spend a bit of money. Tiger always gets Lego. I treat myself ... to some top-shelf chocolate and European mineral water. Found myself doing things today ... but always thinking of him, sitting down at the big hospital next to one of my sisters, dreading the poisoning. He cannot hardly stand another second of it. There are three weeks left. I wonder whatever will happen next? Will he go into remission, and then the cancer will never come back, so we can wipe our brows and say "Phew! Lucky we made it through that one!"

Can shit like that happen? Where IS that crystal ball of mine ... must be next to my stepmother hat somewhere.

See - see what just happened? The Fiasco hijacked the baby news again.

But, he brings us back every time. He cuts through chemo clouds with a single smile. I look at his amazingness, and I can't believe how gorgeous he is and how lucky I am.