Little Family M-G Weekly Wrap-Up

by | May 2, 2011 | Little Family M-G Weekly Wrap-Up | 4 comments

Last week was all about cats with nine lives and breaking boob addictions in babies.

And given the unresolved nature of both of the above, this week is shaping up to be much of the same.



If you'd read this, you'd know that Zeb, my 8-year-old cat was suddenly, seriously ill and then, dramatically wrenched back from the brink of a fatal injection – leaving us here, in limbo. My feeling is that Zeb is going to be fine which is great news but I can't adequately express what a mindfuck it is to take your cat to be put to sleep only to be told, "Hang on, we might have been wrong about the cancer." I had paid for the procedure! I even have the receipt which I think I'll hang onto for it's special kind of black comedy. 

So, Zeb lives to fight another day. And we are left with the thankless task of trying to get a pill down his throat twice daily. Needless to say, he has been getting a lot of love and cuddles. If I were him, I would drag the convalescing out as long as I could because it's only a matter of time before he starts getting angrily chased out of sleeping children's bedrooms again.



Yes, I'm still breastfeeding.

Yes, I'm totally over it.

Zee is 17 months old now – the age LD was when he was completely weaned. The difference between then and now is that LD was drinking a bottle of cow's milk in place of boob for some months prior. I have offered Zee cow's milk and even toddler formula in every possible receptacle known to baby but he will not take it. The idea of mixing breastmilk into the alternate milk and gradually changing the ratio until there is only cow's milk is an excellent idea but unfortunately, I have neither the milk supply or the inclination to pump. I am also feeding exclusively from one breast now which is doing wonders for my boob self-esteem (no longer twins? I would go as far as to say one of my boobs was adopted at birth) and the overnight feeding is killing me.

So. Time for drastic measures. B has been getting up to Zee in the night (normally two wake-ups). On the first night, Zee screamed bloody murder. And I do mean screamed. Furiously. Even as Daddy cuddled him tight. I lay listening over the monitor – I could have turned it down and tried to sleep but I had to 'be' there in support of B. It was absolutely awful and eventually, we got him up at 5am when he just wouldn't resettle.

The following night – very short-lived protestations. Success! By week's end, we were down to one wake-up only – at 4am. Unfortunately, Zee had determined that this was the starting point for the day. Sigh.

Cut to last night when his barking cough worried us enough that B slept on the couch while Zee came in with me. Can you guess who attached himself to the boob pretty much all night? Sigh.

So, another set back. I hope this doesn't mean we're right back at the start but neither of us is comfortable with letting Zee cry while he is unwell. 

Operation Ban The Boob Status: On-going (fuck it)


And yes, I watched The Wedding. Of course I did. And it was bloody gorgeous and I got completely wrapped up in the fairytale-ness, the British-ness, the pomp and ceremony. And Harry. Ooooooh, Harry, you naughty boy.

So do you think I finally got a weekly family portrait done this time? Ha! You're hilarious. But in honour of The Cat That Lived, I thought the below shot was appropriate. Afterall, Zebby and LuLu were our first kids so I guess this is one of our first family portraits.



In other exciting news, I will be announcing a special giveaway later today. This Sunday is Mother's Day – and I want to celebrate with you! Stay tuned!


Hello friends


I’m Angie!  I mum. I write. I wife. My husband would say this is the correct order.  He’s so neeeedy. I live with my family in Melbourne, Australia, where I complain about the weather for 90% of the year – but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Except maybe in Lake Como, waving to my neighbours George and Amal each morning.

Insta Love


  1. melbo

    Oh I’m relieved for the cat and for you but Jesus, you could live without the stress that caused. What a nightmare.

    Weaning … another form of nightmare. We’re still not off the tit here and I’ve been trying to write about it without success. My own feelings are conflicted on the issue. I hope you have better luck with it than I have.

  2. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Thanks Mel.

    Yes, a reprieve for poor, almost-doomed Zebby, it seems, although I still await full results of the lab testing. We’ll see. He has lost a HEAP of weight since being off the food for a few days…lucky he was, shall we say, ‘rotund’ previously…

    And yeah, the battle of the boob. I’m done and done and done. But Zee is soooooo not. Sigh.

  3. MJ

    Great news about Zeb! And love the photos too.

    Battle of the boob sucks. I think – from memory – I had to mix breast milk with cows milk initially for F to drink it. I was lucky that I had some frozen in cubes then. I’d be screwed now if I had to do that for P because I hate pumping, with a passion. It was only easy in those early months of being a jersey cow.

    I hope Zee’s cough is gone very soon, and you can resume the battle – so that you can emerge as the winner next time. x

  4. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Thanks, MJ.

    Yep, it is great news about Zebby…but in saying that, he is still not 100% well. Just this morning I realised that he is still wetting where he sleeps – not a good sign so clearly there is still a blockage issue with his bladder. Poor little thing. Obviously, this can’t go on long term – he can’t live in a pee-soaked basket in the garage forever….. I await the results of the testing anxiously.

    And thankfully, we were back to business as usual last night with Zee. If it was the only way, I would probably pump but I don’t think I have enough milk anymore – especially being one boob down. Sigh. He’s officially been feeding almost half a year longer than I intended to this time around. I figured weaning a 12 month old would be easier than my experience with LD – and I was right. FUCK!


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