tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-110944842024-03-14T02:08:27.438+08:00Inaudible Melodyc & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.comBlogger230125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-88247472774252751422009-09-03T21:30:00.003+08:002009-09-03T21:44:25.364+08:00InnovationHave been made aware of a couple of innovative ideas that have applications in disaster relief and international development. <br />The first one is the <a href="http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/discoblog/2009/04/15/not-subtle-but-it-works-peepoo-bag-converts-human-waste-into-fertilizer/">Peepoo Bag</a> that converts human waste into fertilizer! Something like this could have significant impact in developing areas around the world.<br />The other one comes from the <a href="http://www.ted.com/">TED</a> website, big fan of TED! It is a water filtration bottle, <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/michael_pritchard_invents_a_water_filter.html">lifesaver bottle</a>, that seems so simple but could potentially save many lives. Also could have application in the outdoors, another passion of mine.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-60081629404066430582009-06-01T17:53:00.001+08:002009-06-01T18:02:49.932+08:00finding homeriding home through scarlet skies<br /><br />legs ache.<br />heart beats.<br />air sucked.<br />peddles pumped.<br /><br />grey clouds haunt me from behind<br />crimson clouds hypnotize my mind in front<br />and planet earth is new to me this night.<br /><br />i feel flight as i soar down mountains<br />i feel ache as I burn up hills.<br /><br />my fight and flight become one<br />as thunder rolls up my back <br />and lighting falls like rain.<br /><br />adrenaline swims through me as body reaches for home<br /><br />one drop<br />five drops<br />the heavens open and I am drenched<br /><br />water touches my skin and drips through my gasping lips<br /><br />my skin is freezing<br />my core is burning<br /><br />air sucked<br />air found<br />I am alive.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-59969605696964898212009-03-14T14:13:00.001+09:002009-03-14T14:15:01.264+09:00eckhart tolle from A New Earth'if two ducks get into a fight, which never lasts long, they will separate and float of in opposite directions. Then they each duck will flap its wings vigorously a few times, thus releasing the surplus energy that built up during the fight. After they flap there wings, they float on peacefully, as if nothing had ever happened.<br /><br />If the ducks had a human mind, it would keep the fight alive by thinking, by story-making. This would probably be the ducks story: “I don't believe what he just did. He came to within five inches of me. He thinks he owns this pond. He has no consideration for my private space. I'll never trust him again. Next time he'll try something else just to annoy me. I'm sure he's plotting something already. But I'm not going to stand for this. I'll teach him a lesson he won't forget.” And on and on the mind spins its tales, still thinking and talking about it days, months or years later. As far as the body is concerned, the fight is still continuing, and the energy it generates in response to all those thoughts is emotions, which in turn generates more thinking. This becomes the emotional thinking of the ego. You can see how problematic the duck's life would become if it had a human mind. But this is how most humans live all the time. No situation or event is ever really finished. The mind and mind-made 'me and my story' keep it going."c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-65819310009455218472009-02-20T17:47:00.003+09:002009-02-20T21:56:01.122+09:00ransomblood cell<br />a separate and self contained entity<br />the delivery animal <br />the pack horse<br /><br />they race around our body<br /> nourish, serve, sustain.<br />pillars of life we did not respect<br />and assumed their prize relinquished<br /><br />we simply thought they would always continue<br /> if a thought at all<br />immortal slaves to our<br />busy lives<br /><br />deliver surrender continue<br />never ceasing to rest<br />pushed on pushed forward<br />pushed through our life veins<br /><br />but what if one should halt<br />his precious cargo spilled<br />trapped somewhere on the way<br /><br />a little faint<br />no muscle strength<br />and then her speech was gone..<br /><br /><br /><br />beast of burden I now know you for<br />you hold my life at ransom<br />and my breath is held in fear and wonder<br />until you reach your end.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-11655737604811825742009-01-08T12:46:00.002+09:002009-01-08T12:59:35.897+09:00daughterday by day they become her<br />atom and molecule transform<br />orange into eyes<br />meat into muscle<br />each one making it journey from the soil to her soul.<br /><br />we share breakfast from the yogurt pot<br />some for mummy some for baby<br />and now yogurt sleeps in both our tummies<br />waiting to become human.<br /><br />her skin stretches into space<br />she breathes the air that has flown around the world<br />and drinks the water that has been ocean, rain and river<br /><br />she eats the chicken that ate<br />the lettuce that ate the sunlight<br /><br />and every one of her atoms pulsating<br />with immaculate energy and power<br />barely contained within Physic's laws,<br />gently hum to the silent rhythm of life - tuned into the Divine frequency<br />that only in silence we hear.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-59672302630918069902008-11-03T14:27:00.000+09:002008-11-03T14:28:07.908+09:00i think i have come to the end of words.<br /><br />for the last few years i have wrestled with them, redefined them, cross referenced them and argued them.<br /><br />me brain, ever searching, was in disequilibrium and i fought to find balance. to reconcile the inconsistencies, make sense of the disparities, to find a new framework in which to rest.<br /><br />it has been quite a journey, perhaps even a Road Less Travelled. i have been scared, lonely, held, persistent and confused. words and sentences have flown around my head seeking categories -fiction ? non-fiction? important insignificant? logical? biblical? Christlike? fundamental? the hunger for Truth ever present, ever pulling me forward.<br /><br />but i seem to have come to the end of the road of words. i am more committed than ever to spiritual growth and having touched the taste of Love it is my only hunger. i just feel like God doesn't really care how i classify my sentences. He doesn't really care how i label Him.<br /><br />to describe the indescribable?<br />to name the unnameable?<br />to label the divine?<br /><br />what was i thinking??<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:78%;">charlie<br /></span></div>c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-29549326479190623132008-06-07T17:33:00.004+08:002008-06-09T12:02:19.166+08:00the shed is dead.just smashed down a shed with a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">sledge</span> hammer. fabulous. if i have any reason to be angry at you, don't worry. you're off the hook. i have just taken every last drop of negative energy out on that shed.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-90919965468819932102008-05-27T11:47:00.003+08:002008-06-07T17:37:10.447+08:00'i can hear her...'went to the "Global Leadership Convention" run by World Vision for primary school students yesterday with 4 kids from school. they were quickly thrust into a simulation of the life of a child labourer in a match stick factory in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">India</span>. they were told they owed they employer 170 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">rupees</span> and they had to pay back their debt by making perfect little match boxes with exactly 20 matches in each. they were told the rules in loud unfriendly terms, "you must pay back you're debt. if you need a break to go to the toilet, more debt will be added. if you need food, more debt will be added. if you make a mistake, more debt will be added. if you injure yourself, more debt will be added. no talking. no mistakes. Get to work. NOW."<br /><br />then the factory 'bosses' walked around acting mean and yelling at the kids for the next two hours. one kid <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">who's</span> match box was rejected for being a bit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wonkie</span> ended up crying on the stairs.<br /><br />it was brilliant. i had tears in my eyes myself at one point. after the simulation they showed the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">australian</span> students videos of real kids in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">india</span> who are child labourers. it made <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">australian</span> school work look pretty damn fun. World Vision then promoted the 40 Hour Famine as a solution to this problem (which gave the primary school kids i was with some well needed emotional resolution).<br /><br />I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">genuinely</span> hope the four kids we took went to sleep feeling they can solve the world's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">injustice</span> by fasting from furniture for 40 hours and selling off some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">pre</span>-primary portraits. i, of course am not so lucky, and spent the evening wondering how the heck i was ever going to sleep again with images of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Ragu's</span> big brown <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">indian</span> eyes flashing through my head which rested <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">snugly</span> on my new <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">eqyptian</span> cotton pillow case while he was digging up coal with his skinny bear fingers.<br /><br />i turned to my new book that mum got me from the library, 'Fighting the Banana Wars and other <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Fairtrade</span> Battles'. found this quote by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">indian</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">activist</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Arundhati</span> Roy.<br /><br />"Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day i can hear her breathing."<br /><br />made me feel better.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-34461192858066745762008-04-30T16:00:00.001+08:002008-04-30T16:02:55.657+08:00hung out with one of my best buddies in the whole world yesterday. it was so nourishing.<br /><br />to love and to be loved<br />to know and to be known<br />to sparkle and to be seen<br />to glow and to be hugged...<br /><br />that was yesterday<br />i love you jenna xc & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-28453853276166530972008-04-14T14:48:00.000+08:002008-04-14T14:48:53.500+08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGphjQR-z-NdSZCa68vQErtKXj5dcIF6lpcJXgVeF08rnMzwUzTdiq-zmjphIH9N74AzLxNumd1B_AYex18DLxVEnnH1qHLdHC96izsiCFvzcCGl6doy-Mon3iJU2oxl-jgYl/s1600-h/P1040516.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGphjQR-z-NdSZCa68vQErtKXj5dcIF6lpcJXgVeF08rnMzwUzTdiq-zmjphIH9N74AzLxNumd1B_AYex18DLxVEnnH1qHLdHC96izsiCFvzcCGl6doy-Mon3iJU2oxl-jgYl/s160/P1040516.JPG" border="0" /></a><div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-58458526896051262562008-04-14T14:04:00.000+08:002008-04-14T14:04:56.100+08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaT-64mLJXEu3IZ8YbiCdXBSP_HsQvj3GNeFXxDLCUvAAnNDKXxRyE1EuVdGw2Pj91r1c9v_7qCElgLwM6__XGfWJH7N4mcOyXEMO8Nx38CAbm2AbnKjUuNA9iHhqmq8-JmRZ/s1600-h/P1040455.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaT-64mLJXEu3IZ8YbiCdXBSP_HsQvj3GNeFXxDLCUvAAnNDKXxRyE1EuVdGw2Pj91r1c9v_7qCElgLwM6__XGfWJH7N4mcOyXEMO8Nx38CAbm2AbnKjUuNA9iHhqmq8-JmRZ/s160/P1040455.JPG" border="0" /></a><div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-33917560558363680182008-04-12T19:59:00.004+08:002008-04-12T20:21:42.177+08:00bookfinished <span style="font-style: italic;">memory keeper's daughter.</span> (the fiction beat the non-fiction :). the book is about a doctor who secretly gives away his down syndrome daughter at birth and tells his wife she died. the nurse, who was in love with the doctor, can't bring herself to leave the little girl at the scary, gray institution and decides to keep her as her own. the nurse has to constantly fight for her 'daughter' to get a decent education and medical care. there is one scene which will never leave me where she takes her daughter into hospital after being stung by a bee (the girl's allergic) and she is essentially asked if she would just rather let nature take is course and let her daughter die than give her treatment (my blood boiled). gave me some good insights into a not so pleasant attitude from the 60's and 70's towards the mentally 'retarded'. helped me understand the little glimpses i see of this disappearing world view.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-12931937404764233452008-03-29T20:29:00.000+09:002008-03-29T20:30:34.522+09:00sleepy<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Tired, her eyelids sway up and down like tiny tides. The magpies carol. Open. Mummy breathes. Close. A dog barks. Open. She rolls over. Close. The fan swirls. Open. Snuggle into mummy. Close. She drinks deeply. I'm not sure where I finish and she begins. Her hands glide like star fish on my skin. Silky skin on skin. And finally the caroling magpies, the distant barking dog and the swirling fan move into one lullaby and Danika falls asleep.</p>c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-23807769795383295342008-03-25T12:25:00.003+09:002008-04-12T19:58:55.819+08:00currently reading...<span style="font-style: italic;">irresistible revolution</span> by shane claireborne and <span style="font-style: italic;">the memory keeper's daughter</span> by kim edwards. both brilliant (so far, only half way through).<br /><br />i have decided to read more fiction. i love reading because it keeps my brain active and makes me feel smart (compared to TV which makes me feel dumb) but reading to much non-fiction gives me all these logical arguments and prepositions which reinforce what i already believe (even when i disagree with the author, i still become more clear of my argument) and i'm not sure i want to be all that certain of my logical arguments and prepositions.<br /><br />good novels give me a sense of awe, mystery, empathy and compassion. these things are more important to me than clarity of mind.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-995995641790560062008-03-17T22:00:00.001+09:002008-03-17T22:02:21.943+09:00hospital visitdanika just had her first visit to hospital...because her daddy sliced his finger on the lawn mower and needed stitches. she didn't like it much. neither did daddy.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-29820143298011677212008-02-23T17:14:00.000+09:002008-02-23T17:15:32.397+09:00i have three homes;<br /><br />my body<br />my house<br />my planetc & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-58535316058166565372008-02-14T20:53:00.001+09:002008-02-14T20:55:47.444+09:00danika stumbled her first few steps tonight. she thinks she's the cleverest thing in the whole world.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-69822816613501666872008-02-11T20:50:00.000+09:002008-02-14T20:56:42.271+09:00Grandad's memorial today. sad. healthy sad. there was a photo of Grandad and Grandma cutting their wedding cake. Grandma's wedding dress was made out off fabric from 'coupons' and a lace curtain. she looked beautiful. she is beautiful. she started life as an orphan and ends it as a widow.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-42964836840670821472008-01-28T17:47:00.000+09:002008-01-28T17:48:31.710+09:00my grandad died last night. he was 80.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-78505180118436064782008-01-07T12:39:00.000+09:002008-01-07T12:45:49.914+09:00sheila kitzinger<span style="font-style: italic;">"When she becomes a mother, it is as if a woman must go deep into the bowels of the earth, back to the elemental emotions and the power which makes life possible, losing herself in the darkness. She is like Eurydice int the Underworld. She is pulled away from a world of choices, plans and schedules, where time is kept, spaces cleared, commitments made, and goals attained to the warm chaos of love, confusion, longing, anger, self-surrender and intense pleasure that mothering entails."</span>c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-3664839975376335512007-12-31T21:35:00.001+09:002007-12-31T21:44:06.022+09:002007new years eve<br />sitting at home, having a quiet one.<br /><br />somehow the most significant year of our life so far doesn't need a big night out to mark it's end.<br /><br />i watched darkness fall on 2007 from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">danika's</span> bedroom as she fell asleep in my arms. i never new Life could be so deeply satisfying.<br /><br />God Bless for 2008<br />Love <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">charlotte</span> xc & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-82589950239233734962007-12-16T08:26:00.000+09:002007-12-16T08:27:01.350+09:00danika is on the move.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-10479562609339702862007-12-07T20:43:00.001+09:002007-12-07T21:15:40.763+09:00blooming<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1iEKtlDXmHf6RgloNrI89qUoy5qoS0nMk2Ne0G0ws1daLZMs-tKlzIj7Af1-x3DZ5hvQQUK2Tc7De7VnXgDuafyt1sWhycsw81hxZHcchqB_Nqp6W43mPZlFxxHb_838E5Vwv/s1600-h/krissy's+close+up.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1iEKtlDXmHf6RgloNrI89qUoy5qoS0nMk2Ne0G0ws1daLZMs-tKlzIj7Af1-x3DZ5hvQQUK2Tc7De7VnXgDuafyt1sWhycsw81hxZHcchqB_Nqp6W43mPZlFxxHb_838E5Vwv/s200/krissy's+close+up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141203508315277186" border="0" /></a><br />our parenting style is slowly unfolding, and it has an uncanny <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">nack</span> of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">revealing</span> what we truly value. our hidden assumptions slowly come into the light. our fundamental <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">beliefs</span> about Christ, the bible and Truth are slowly exposed.<br /><br />before Danika was born we were invited to do a parenting course.... "we did it and our kids are so compliant and well mannered."<br /><br />'compliant'? 'well mannered'? slight cringe noticed somewhere inside myself. there's nothing <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">wrong</span> with those two things per say, they're just not exactly the two adjectives i would use to advertise a parenting course.<br /><br />i guess when i imagine what i want for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">dani's</span> life those two are not that high up on the list... they are on the list, but just not that high up.<br /><br />so what words would i pick to advertise a parenting course??? courage? passion? empathy?<br /><br />i can feel my perception of Christ influencing this. The Christ of our imaginations are always all of our favourite qualities rolled into one, one man, one symbol.<br /><br />i imagine <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">jesus</span> to be this brave dare devil, who is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">absolutely</span> gorgeous and kind and loving but didn't give a rats arse if he offended the snobs. i imagine him to be completely fearless whilst still being emotionally vulnerable. he looks me in the eye and invites me into all sorts of adventures, not one of the least being birthing a child.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">jesus</span> - compliant? are you kidding me?<br /><br />my distaste for compliance is one of the reasons i am (at the moment) unable to let <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">dani</span> cry when she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">wants</span> a cuddle (even if it's 2am). the baby psychology books <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">i've</span> been reading reckon when a baby consistently expresses a need (physical, emotional or spiritual, and i think they are all the same thing to a baby anyway) and it is ignored, they cope by slowly deadening they acknowledgement of that need. they learn not to listen to their own bodies when they are hungry, or their own heart when they want love. maybe it's the 4 in me (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">enneagram</span>), but having an internal moral compass and listening to my own heart is one of the most important things in the world.<br /><br />and the new research (and lots of the old) is saying that babies who are responded to quickly, in the end cry less and are more content.<br /><br />maybe the psychology books and the research is wrong and maybe i am actually creating a demanding little spoilt brat, but heck, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">i'll</span> still love her even if no one else does, and at least <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">i'll</span> know <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">i've</span> done my best.<br /><br />use your mind<br />but follow<br />your<br />heart.c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-36094629389513273832007-11-23T15:26:00.000+09:002007-11-23T15:28:10.678+09:00dry sheets<br />dry baby<br />happy baby<br />happy mummy<br />:)<br /><br />if we can do this again it will mean the end of day time nappies!c & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11094484.post-53064760056577929752007-11-23T13:16:00.000+09:002007-11-23T13:46:37.478+09:00pottythe warm weather is definitely suiting the no-nappy thing. we've made heaps of progress the last few weeks (not that this is about progress per say). she's becoming really clear at communicating when she wants to poo, and she only wees about every hour now and the window i have to catch the wee has grown. (for instance if she does a wee at 9am i can put her on the potty again at anywhere between 9.45 and 10.15 and successfully catch it, where as when she was little if she weed at 9am i would only have between 9.20 and 9.25 to catch the next one.) she doesn't seem to communicate that she's about to wee, or if she does it's really subtle and only about 1 second before she going to go, so for wees i tend to rely on timing (ie put her on the potty before she's busting) and poos i tend to rely on her communication (she stops what ever she's doing and concentrates either into my eyes or into space and her breathing changes.)<br /><br />i just put dani down for her afternoon nap with no nappy on! i popped her on the potty and she did a tea spoon sized wee (obviously wasn't busting) and then i laid her down in her cot, bare bummed. It's a nice warm day so she doesn't need any blankets. i've left her door open so i can hear her if she stirs. the theory is that babies don't wee in their sleep, but as they wake. this theory has proved true because i often whip dani's nappy off as soon as she wakes up and she's dry, but will then do a big wee on the potty within about 5 seconds.<br /><br />we'll see how we go :)<br />i love being a mumc & chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036983906756681948noreply@blogger.com0