Now this sucks big purple weanies!

What a perfect time for the preggie hormones to wear off! I guess they must have, because the RSI is back with a whammy, and every bit of bliss has buggered off to parts unknown.

And of course (because we know I don't do things by halves), the antibiotics seem to be having a very negative effect on kidlet. I only made the connection to antibiotics and screaming child because I asked Robyn if there were any complications with breastfeeding while taking the damn things.

"Not if you take them for five days or less, but 7-10 days onwards they can make the baby windy and cranky".

Well that might be the case for everyone else's baby, but mine reacted from day 1. I might have put it down to coincidence, except he was so bad on Night 1 that on Morning 2 I missed breakfast entirely thus didn't get to take the tablet. Then Wayne whisked me off to town to run errands, so I didn't get to take a tablet until that night. Took another at 7am this morning with porridge. Anyhoo, Day 2 saw a very sunny natured baby who slept lots and giggled more often than he bawled.

Braeden only woke once during the night, then asked for a big feed.. and from 8am on, he's been extremely unsettled (code for "yells constantly, won't sleep, violently refuses the breast but is desperate for the bottle and of course makes himself sick on a regular basis).

Yeah it's been "a day". In desperation I put him in the footpath-only pram and went walkies with him out to the paddocks, because at least outside his bawling didn't echo so badly inside my house and head. (And with him so upset, there was no chance to eat, shower or sleep so I'm in several bad places at once, LOL)

Anyhoo, the horses were fascinated with my "foal", however the foal in question did not seem so pleased to be sniffed by big brown whiskery things, especially when they started shoving at each other to get close to their almost forgotten owner and her bundle of strange smells. (There was a fence between them and me, don't panic)

(Okay it was just a hotwire, but at least it was on ;-) )

I guess it was when I was sobbing my frustration and misery into Hudson's long mane that I made the connection between the antibiotics and Braeden's grumpyness. Wayne got home shortly afterwards (ohthankgods) and this point I wanted to ditch the antibiotics in a big way but Wayne overrode me because I'm clearly not 100% physically and in fact we're going backwards quite noticeably. A large chunk of this is that I'm not eating right (or at all mostly, because it's just too much like hard work and why eat when you can sleep instead?)

So Braeden's on formula only for the next four days while I "milk & throw out", and just to make life so much more fun (rolls eyes, wishes for a cigarette!). Oh fun to hand milk with screeching case of tennis elbow ;-)

Whine over.. wine now please. That's something to grin about - if I'm expressing to throw out, at least I can get seriously bloody pickled tonight and Wayne can take over the 3am feed with a bottle! Of course Mr Dad is nagging me to eat, seeing as I haven't had much all day apart from the 7am porridge and a few gingernut biscuits with a cup of cold tea about 2pm. The wine is going down real well right now though ;-)

I think I'm going to need more self-administered anaesthetic before I get involved with the hand pump. Dunno what's going to hurt more.. the elbow or the boobs that haven't been adequately emptied for nearly 18 hours.

Oh I know.. tomorrow's picture is going to hurt worse than those two put together. Yep, the reporter talked us into calling in to their offices while we were in town, and of course we weren't dressed for photographs (Wayne in torn dusty overalls, me in very colourful but incredibly baggy gear and my hair everywhere but where it should have been). Braeden of course slept through the entire interview and photo session!

Wayne was the funniest though. In person, I'm the quiet one and Wayne's the chatterbox. (Truly! He's good for about two dozen words to each one of mine)

But yesterday in the interview, he became Mr Monosyllabul. He didn't quite revert to the Kiwi "Yeah, alright I s'pose" standard response but it was close.

In the end the reporter said he'd have to assign some of my quotes to Wayne so that he'd at least appear to have some input to the interview ;-)

Talk about stagefright, LOL! But it's possible he was still in shock - partly from having his photo taken (eeeek) but also because he nearly sliced his right thumb clean off in an accident that morning. He was very lucky, because a different type of saw would have taken it off rather than chewed it so meatily, but it's still a long nasty gash that should have received medical attention.

But no. Despite almost singlehandedly supporting an entire ACC branch office with his enormous levies, Wayne refuses to see a doc because that means lodging a claim.

Anyhoo (I'm not very ... um what's the word... coherent tonight due to exhaustion, unwellness and self medicating with a glass of Sauv Blanc, sorry).. anyhoo, it turns out we're not just going to appear in the Canterbury Times on Tuesday, but (gasp) also in the Christchurch Star tomorrow.

My hairdresser is going to kill me... (but the sleeping baby looked clean and cute)