Just Another Parenting Blog?

“Oh no! Have we become just another parenting blog?”

We have started brainstorming some updates to our social media branding when I realised that, despite our best intentions, NSSLOU has basically become all about our life as parents. 

But you know what, this is the chapter that we are in right now and it’s all encompassing. It’s different and hard and fun and it’s who we are at this point in our lives. Mummy and Daddy. 

And I don’t apologise at all for that. 

We may not be out seeing the world exploring and adventuring, but we are having adventures of different kind. And we will get back to being those jet-setting, cocktail-sipping people again eventually. Hopefully. 


But for now I’m the Mum whose Insta feed is basically a shrine to my kids, whose shirt is usually spit-up or milk stained and who doesn’t venture too far from home because you never know how car trips are going to turn out. 

We are the 30-somethings spending most nights at home navigating bath time and dinner prep. And instead of partying or camping on weekends you’ll usually find us playing in the backyard or spending time with family. 


For now we are just ordinary people. A husband, a wife. And a parenting team just trying to raise exceptional children and keep our shit together as much as possible. 

So to all the other 30-somethings out there that are knee deep in nappies and whose lounge rooms look more like a day care centre than a Kmart catalogue. We get you. And hopefully our musings bring you some relief. 

We’ll meet you at the pool bar in say….15 years. 

Things I’m rediscovering with baby #2

It was only a couple of years ago that we had our first baby but my how quickly you forget things. Well, you never really forget but more so you get focused on the current challenges and milestones of whatever stage they’re in. But now we are in the thick of baby life yet again, and I am rediscovering all the things I’d forgotten about.

Like the endless rotation of clothing. This baby is constantly either shitting or spewing all over what he’s wearing! I swear he goes through about 4 outfits a day. Not to mention my constant need to change from being spewed or shat on! Ok, if i’m honest, you’ll often find me wearing vomit or milk stained clothes because there’s just no point changing AGAIN! And why is it that we always pack a change of clothes for them but never for us??

Then there’s those delightful car trips with a screaming baby. Yup, we’ve got one of those again. I feel like I’ve built up a better tolerance to it this time around but if we go somewhere as a family and Kaine is in the car too, cue extreme stress levels and arguments every time. Men just can’t seem to handle it can they? At least we now know that screaming bloody murder on car trips will eventually give way to 11pm drives to get the kid who now magically loves the car to sleep.

Perhaps my favourite is the little discoveries baby makes. Like finding his hands and feet. Jasper has been marvelling at his fists for a while now and is just starting to lift his beautiful chubby legs up in the air. He is also finding his voice and squealing with delight. Gosh I love this stage so much. 

I’m being reminded how sweet a sound baby giggles are and how you’ll do just about anything to win one. From silly faces and baby talk to tickling and singing made up songs. But it’s so worth it every time I hear his laugh and see his heartbreakingly cute dimples and puffy cheeks. 

 
I’m also remembering how frustrating and disheartening it is to have a crying baby you just can’t seem to soothe. It’s agony. But thankfully we haven’t had many times like that yet. 

I don’t ever want to forget these moments and I know just how fleeting they are. One blink and they’re suddenly having conversations with you and getting hair cuts and demanding mnm’s for breakfast. 

If only we could hold onto our little babies forever. 

Footage Friday: Festival of Lights

Last weekend we decided to take the kids to the Festival of Lights at Westfield Chermside.

And they absolutely loved it!!!

It was Jesse’s first time seeing fireworks… but, he didn’t get frightened, and in fact, he didn’t know where to look there was so much happening.

Jasper was also a little trooper, not even flinching when the fireworks started up!

We will definitely have to do something like this with the kids again!

Photo Friday: 3 Months Old Already

We can hardly believe it but our bouncing baby boy is three months old!

He is such a delight and has fit into our family like a perfect piece of our puzzle. 

His dimply grin, those chubby cheeks and his chilled out personality have us absolutely smitten. 

He is hinting at giggles and we just can’t wait to hear it in full. He loves watching his big brother Jesse play. And Jesse loves to kiss Jasper’s head and do ‘this little piggy’ with his toes. 

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Before we know it, we will be writing a post and celebrating the fact that he has just turned 6 months old… oh how time flies!!!

Again… those cheeks though!!! 😍

Our Birth Story Volume II: A Dad’s Perspective

Last year, both Renee and I wrote blog posts called ‘Our Birth Story: A Mum’s/Dad’s Perspective. It was our way of both celebrating and remembering our journey through to the birth of Jesse.

Well, Baby Barton #2 has since arrived on the scene in the form of a chubby little boy named Jasper who at 12 weeks old, is bigger than Jesse was at 12 months old (this might be a slight exaggeration, but I’m not kidding when I say that he is a MONSTER).

So, as we did for Jesse, we thought it might be good to share our own perspectives on Jasper’s birth story as he clocks in for his 3 Month Milestone. Because if these is one thing we do know for sure, it’s that this time around, the birth story is a lot different!

The last weeks

The last weeks were a lot different from when we were waiting on the arrival of Jesse. The biggest change being that Renee actually went full term this time around. And when I say full term, I mean she had Jasper smack bang right on the due date! With Jesse, she went into labour just over a week early.

In those last few weeks though, Renee was getting more and more uncomfortable… and more and more miserable. Hahaha… nah, she was okay. I mean, there were definitely moments of complete and utter despair at the fact that she was becoming less and less mobile, but it certainly didn’t stop her from getting on with things.


Conveniently, I had started my leave early due to the fact there was a good chance that Baby Barton #2 would be born early like Jesse was. That meant that we got to spend some quality time at home as a family of three, before the new addition decided to grace us with it’s presence. Throughout this time at home though, I was persistent at letting Renee know that she should hurry up and go into labour and have the baby already, because I didn’t want to waste all of my leave sitting around waiting for the baby to come. I did eventually learn to cut it out with the joking however, because for some reason, a certain someone who was almost 40 weeks pregnant wasn’t really in the mood for my jokes most of the time.

So the countdown continued, as we slowly (and in Renee’s case, time appeared to stop altogether) got closer and closer to the due date of Baby Barton #2.

The day before

I actually don’t remember much of what we did the day before. I remember that we were constantly talking about how funny it would be if Baby Barton #2 came on the due date. But we never really expected it to happen given how unlikely that is (I think it’s something like 4% of babies are born on their due date).

What I do remember however, is that Renee had been experiencing some pretty heavy contractions on and off for a few days. So much so that there were a few touch and go situation where we thought it might be necessary to call the hospital to tell them we were coming in. But then, the contractions would slow back down, and it would seem like we were back to playing the waiting game.

We did put Renee’s parents on notice however, as they were going to take Jesse home with them for the night when they got the call that we were heading to the hospital. Little did we know it would be the next day that we called them to come and pick Jesse up.


And as we went to bed that night, we again joked about how it would be funny if Baby Barton #2 came tomorrow… On its due date…

D-Day

It’s D-Day, but neither of us knew for certain it was actually going to be D-Day at first. Although we both had an inkling that it was going to be.

Throughout the course of the morning, Renee was regularly getting contractions. However, there was no consistency to them and as such, we were still in two minds about ringing the hospital. From early on in the pregnancy, it’s drilled into you to not call the hospital until contractions are 3 minutes apart. And Renee was all over the shop, with some falling 2 minutes apart, but others falling 6, 7, 8 minutes apart.

In the end, we decided it was best to check in with the hospital, just to be on the safe side.

First, we touched base with Renee’s parents and had them come to pick Jesse up just in case. I think we both kind of knew that Jesse had a feeling that something was up. He wasn’t quite himself. I believe from memory, he was also hesitant about leaving us to go with Nanny and Poppy for a sleepover… and he never hesitates when Nanny and Poppy offer to take him for a sleepover! In fact, in some cases, Nanny can’t even get all the way through the door and into our kitchen before Jesse has taken her hand, grabbed his bag and is heading to the front door to leave!

But not too long after Jesse left with Nanny and Poppy, we made the call. The birthing suite answered, and right in the middle of the discussion, Renee stopped as another wave of contractions hit her. “Yea, but the sounds of how much pain you’re in, I think it’s probably best to come on in so we can check you out…” the voice at the other end of the line said. “We can always just send you home again if it’s too early…” she said. We hung up the phone and laughed at the prospect of being sent home, as we both knew now, that things were ramping up.

Then the interesting part of this whole day came. And that was the car ride to the hospital. It was the one thing that Renee was not looking forward to after the memories of the trip to the hospital for Jesse’s birth. Apparently car rides are excruciatingly painful when you’re 40 weeks pregnant and are experiencing contractions… who knew right?!?! And as I drove (as quickly but as lawfully as I could) to the hospital, all I could do was keep reassuring Renee that we were almost there. Not long to go. You’re doing great. But geez she looked like she was in a lot of pain!

In the birthing suite

So that takes us through to our arrival at the hospital, and our entry into the birthing suite. Well, this is a story all on its own, because let me tell you this… we almost didn’t make it into the birthing suite!

After a very slow walk through the hospital carpark (also surprisingly, when your 40 weeks pregnant and pretty much in the throes of labour, walking is apparently very difficult), we finally managed to make our way up to level 2 of the hospital, and through the doors to the reception area of the birthing suite. And once we got to the reception area, we were met with the news that there was currently no available birthing suites! However, the good news was, that one was just being cleaned and should be ready any minute.

Oh no… that was not the news that Renee wanted to hear. So here we were, in all our glory, waiting in the halls at the reception area. Me surrounded by all the bags we had to bring, Renee starting to get louder and louder as she was bent over a railing in labour. Renee also screaming at me to call her mum and sister to get to the hospital ASAP. The midwifes trying to calm Renee and reassure her that the birthing suite is almost ready to go. And I felt like laughing. Because surely this only happens in the movies? I mean, it was touch and go there for a while… we honestly thought there was a good possibility that Renee was going to have Baby Barton #2 in the hallway!

What did actually end up only being minutes later (although it must have felt like an eternity for Renee) we were finally let into the newly cleaned birthing suite. Shortly after, Renee’s mum and sister arrived… and shortly after that, Jasper Barton arrived.


Like, literally, I think from memory we arrived at the hospital sometime after 12pm, by 1:30pm, Jasper was born! How quick was that labour!!! I mean the labour for Jesse’s birth wasn’t extremely long either, but this was super quick. That said, we think Renee had officially been in labour from the day before, but you know… it still seemed quick to us.

After Jasper was born, we did take a little longer to name him than we did with Jesse. We had some names picked out, but we still weren’t 100% decided on a name. We thought about it for a little while longer, and eventually came to decision to name him Jasper James Barton. One of our choicies, and the choice that definitely seemed to fit this new little bundle of joy we had in our arms.

Wow, what an experience birth number two was. I actually can’t believe how different it was to the first time. So much so that it was like the first time all over again!

And even though we realized at the time when we named him, the funny thing is we ended up with two boys, both of whom have the initials J.J.B., and both of whom were born on a Wednesday. Like seriously, that can’t happen… can it?!?!

Happy 3 Month Milestone Jasper!!! You chubby little monster you…

Dad Bod: It’s Time To Go Part II

On 23 January 2017, someone decided to write a post called ‘Dad Bod: It’s time to go!’

That someone was me.

My post went something a little like this:

“Blah blah blah I’m not going to beat around the bush… I have officially (by my own admittance) reached fat bastard status! I got to that point where I realised I had two options available moving forward regarding my diet and my weight. Either stop eating… or buy a whole new wardrobe full of clothes. And let’s face it, to stop eating is definitely the cheaper way to go!”

“Blah blah blah I mean, it’s pretty bad. Like so bad that the t-shirts I own look like they’re about 2 sizes to small when I wear them. If I start to raise my arms it looks like I’m wearing a midriff! Plus none of my pants fit! We went to the Redcliffe Lagoon just before New Years and I couldn’t do them up. I have buttons popping open on shorts and I even had to use a hair tie on the top button of a pair of jeans because I couldn’t get it done up! Yes, a hack I learned from my pregnant wife.”

“Blah blah blah I’ve embraced the Dad Bod for long enough. All the delicious food and the cold beers and the tasty burgers and the amazing chocolate and the delightful doughnuts and the… IT’S TIME TO STOP!!!”

Pretty convincing stuff right. Well, I must have thought so at the time, because I was clearly fired up enough to put down in writing that I was going to lose the dad bod and gain a six pack that would give Zac Efron a run for his money! I was making claims like I was going to be the next inspirational body transformation story to go viral around the world and have everyone asking me “How did you do it?” I was talking like I was going to be the next Instagram male fitness model with abs of steel, calves that could cut through glass, biceps that would make The Rock jealous and an ego to match.

Fast forward to the end of June and I’m now peaking at 90kg in weight, I haven’t given up any of the bad foods I said I was going to give up, I’m drinking more beer than I did at Christmas and New Years, I’ve had to buy the next size up in underwear, and I’ve had to buy half a wardrobes worth of clothes that actually fit me.

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I think I’ve practically just given up trying to lose weight and get back to my peak fitness level. It’s like I’ve just thrown up the middle finger with a “f*** it… I’m having cake and beer!” I mean, cake and beer is freaking delicious!!! Who doesn’t want cake and beer! Just throw in some mac and cheese, dark chocolate, a full family bag of cheese supreme Doritos and some ice cream and you have a bloody good night in at home on the couch watching some Netflix!

Losing weight is just so damn hard these days. I mean, I never really thought that being in my early thirties would have that much of an impact on my health and fitness but f***… it’s like my body just turns whatever I eat to fat and stores it there for an eternity.

So bugger it… I’m just going to keep enjoying myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still exercise and sh**… but I think I’m going to give up on the dream of being the next Arnold Schwarzenegger!

With that said, I’ve got to go… I’ve got a 7/11 Slurpee and king size Mars bar calling my name!

Photo Friday: Jesse’s First Haircut

There are many ‘firsts’ in life, so it would seem that a haircut should be fairly insignificant. But in fact for parents, it is another one of those events that remind us our baby is no longer a baby and is now in full blown toddlerhood. 

We had this experience over the weekend when we took Jesse for his first proper haircut by a hairdresser. 

Kaine attempted to trim Jesse’s fringe so it wasn’t in his eyes. But when that went hysterically wrong, it was off to the hair dresser!

There were tears in the chair and then tears when we had to drag him away from the amazing wooden train set in the waiting area. But all in all it went well and our big boy looks super cute with his new hair do. 


When the season changes…

A simple change of season brings with it so many things… like cool nights spent in front of the television under a blanket. Lazy mornings spent dozing under the warmth of the doona. Flannelette pyjamas. Onesies. Slow cooked meals and warm soups. Runny noses and blocked sinuses.

With a simple change of season, Winter is here.


It has brought with it, into our household at least, the kind of runny noses, blocked sinuses and chesty coughs that young children just seem to attract. It has also brought with it, restless nights.

Over the past few nights, our modest queen size bed has been full. Full with two tired parents, a sniffily, snoring toddler with a blocked nose, and a restless baby that just wants to be continuously attached to Renee’s boob. Our bed is full of warm bodies fighting for space in a forever shrinking bed that seems to be getting smaller by the minute. But it’s not just full of these sleeping, sometimes restless bodies… It is also full of love…

It is full of the love of a mother cradling her newborn in the crook of her arm as she yet again exposes her breast to the cool air of the night to once again feed, soothe and settle his tiny whimpers and cries.

It is full of the love of a newborn when he feels the warmth and closeness of his mother, as he begins to take in the sweet milk that he has been longing for.

It is full of the love of a father as he breathes in the blissful scent of his toddler’s hair when he rolls over and cuddles in for warmth, placing his tiny hand on my cheek.

It is full of the love of a toddler who feels safe wrapped in the arms of his father, as he breathes and snores softly into the night.

A simple change of season brings with it so many things. But of all the things that a change of season to those cooler months of Winter brings, it’s the overflowing feeling of love we feel as our family finally falls soundly asleep, breathing almost in harmony, cuddled up and sharing with each other our warmth, that we treasure most.

A simple change of season brings with it so many things…

And love is the greatest of them all.

Something funny happened last night…

Something funny happened in our house last night.

Something that is the result of two tired parents, at night, doing their best, trying to get the kids to bed.

So, as is normally the case of an evening/night in the Barton household at the moment, Renee was feeding and nursing Jasper while I was playing with Jesse and making us dinner. On Saturday night while we were out for my Mum’s Birthday, Jesse found a skill tester full of bouncy balls. $1 later and some serious skill tester skills on my part, Jesse was the proud owner of a small, red bouncy ball which hasn’t left his sight since we got home that night. So last night, Daddy and Jesse were bouncing said bouncy ball back and forth to each other for hours, much to Jesse’s delight.

Anyways, so we eventually got organised and got both boys ready for bed.


Our normal routine of an evening is once the boys are ready for bed, and once Jesse has had enough playtime and starts showing signs of being tired, one of us will take him into our bedroom and lay with him on our bed with a bottle while he falls asleep. Well, last night it didn’t quite play out that way.

We got the boys ready for bed… we let Jesse continue playing… and Renee took him into our room for a bottle and sleep time. 7 minutes later, the door opens and out strolls Jesse wide eyed and bushy tailed! Ok, fair enough, not quite ready for bed yet.

So it was more bouncy ball play time, as Jesse and I sat at opposite ends of the kitchen and continued to bounce it to each other.

A little while later, and it was my turn. So it was into the bedroom, sans bottle, for the second attempt… … … We didn’t even last 5 minutes this time!

Back out we go for more play time.

About 30 minutes later, Jesse finally takes me by the hand, requests another bottle and then leads me into the bedroom. By this stage, it’s somewhere between 8:30 and 9:00pm and well past Jesse’s bedtime. It’s all good though. Hopefully he falls asleep pretty quickly and I’ll be able to sneak out in time to see the end of MasterChef.

I remember laying down beside him, feeling him snuggling into me as he chugged his bottle down. I remember him handing me the empty bottle, putting it on the side table, and then snuggling back into him as he rolled over to get comfortable. And then…

Well, the next thing I remember is Renee nudging me in the arm to wake me up. “Hey… we both fell asleep and it’s now 10pm” she says to me as I try and comprehend where I am and what’s happened.

“What?! Did I really fall asleep” I say back to her, convinced she is lying. I’m sure I remember thinking about stuff while I lay here. Or was it a dream…

Oh well… that folks, is how parenting is done. Where the person with the most energy at 8pm on a Sunday night is your 2 year old toddler. And when you both fall asleep trying to put the kids to bed and miss the end of Australia’s best amateur cooking show, MasterChef. Who had the three best dishes? Who had the worst three dishes? Who the hell was the guest chef? These are all questions I may never get the answers to…

Like I said at the start of this post, something funny happened last night. It was the result of two tired parents, just doing our best.

So, what’s in store tonight? Well, I can let you know how we go if you like, although, there is one thing I do know… I can’t miss the ending of another episode of Australia’s favourite show about cooking things, MasterChef (not really, because really, who gives a sh*t about who had the best dish when you can snuggle with your 2 year old in bed!).

Bye, Bye Postpartum Honeymoon

The past 6 weeks have flown by so fast but yes, Jasper is now 6 weeks old. The first 6 weeks with a newborn really is like a honeymoon period. The oxytocin is flowing, mama and baby are bonding, visitors are showering you with gifts and food. It’s incredible. 

And then the 6 week mark hits and all of a sudden you are just magically meant to have your shit together. The fan fare has faded, the fog begins to lift and the new normal takes hold. Routines are starting to form (some days), and our bodies are, for the most part, ready to handle our normal-life activities again. 


While the postpartum honeymoon period might be drawing to a close, we continue to fall more in love with our bubba. And our big boy as he slips beautifully into the role of big brother. And I reckon I can milk calling Jasper a newborn for at least another 6 weeks despite the fact that he is a chunky 5.2kg already!