After a particularly nasty 3 day labour with Harry, which ended in an emergency c-section, it was discovered that I had a narrow pelvis. Now the irony of this find was it is the only thing small about me. Years and years ago, Mr Woog's 94 year old Hungarian Grandma patted me on the hips and suggested in broken English, that I was going to bear many children. Just what a 22 year old wanted to hear. Yes, I am built like the daughter of an Irish Potato farmer. But like with most things in WoogsWorld, things are not always as they seem.
So Jack was born via the sunroof as well. I now had a brand new baby and a brand new two year old. I was on maternity leave and Mr Woog had resigned from a big company to set up his own business. There was much going on to say the least.
Then the universe threw us a major curve ball.
As a two day old, Jack failed his SWISH test. This is a state wide hearing test where they stick stuff on your baby's head and measure brain activity in response to noise frequency. I made them do the test every day until we were discharged. We were given a referral to the Sydney Children's Hospital. This began a 6 week cycle of appointment after appointment as we searched to find a specialist who would tell us he was not deaf. We thought it was the end of the world. We did not tell anyone for a few weeks as we simply did not accept it.
So after a LOT of talking and meetings and hearing tests and sleepless nights and crying, we got over ourselves and decided if Jack had a hearing loss, then we were going to do our bloody dandiest to get him talking. Because the only sign language I knew was flipping the bird.
So here we are now - Jack is four and does not stop talking. DOES. NOT. STOP. TALKING. or singing or dancing or complaining or laughing or fighting with his brother. And I got to resign from my soul sucking job and Mr Woog stopped sitting on the couch all night worrying about where our life was headed. And Harry got a new implement of torture.
Jack is an extreme character. He marches to the beat of his own drum. He does not suffer fools. He has a penchant for all things pink and purple and is attracted to sequins like flies on shit. He reads Vogue and produces mood boards. He is appearing in the Sydney City Youth Ballet's version of Peter Pan at the end of the year. He is the sunshine of my life and I just love him to bits.
So now down to the most important interview part.
What is your favourite colour? Purple
What is your favourite food? Lollies
What are you going to be when you grow up? I am going to have my own room with a stage and a microphone.
Who is your favourite person? Mummy
What is your favourite song? I can sing a Rainbow
What is important to you? Getting ten so I can get my own room.
Oh, and did I mention the dude can dance?
Next up. Mr Woog. He is so excited about it he cannot speak.
