resolutions for the new year

It's official, the year is almost over. In fact, this time next week I will be placing pressies under the tree, stuffing stockings and turkeys and getting all christmas-y! Woot! Can you believe another year is almost done? I can't! I can't believe its that time of year already and I am starting to believe what I've been told for years, that each year goes faster as you get older...

I'm not ready. The presents still need wrapping, hell I haven't even finished shopping. My meal plan isn't finalised. Groceries aren't done. I haven't ordered a bloody turkey yet but you know what, it doesn't matter. Somehow it all comes together right? And next year I will be more organised.

Next year I vow to

• be more organised for xmas and actually buy bits and pieces over the year
• be more crafty next year, and actually make some gifts. How hard can it be?
• take my kids to see twinkly lights at night - I feel they're too little this year but next year I think we can make an exception and create some memories
• keep in better touch with friends and loved ones - to my family, I've been slack with birthdays etc but I promise to make amends next year
• lose those last few kgs I promised would be gone by xmas but seem to be hanging around
• actually get to a gym or at least an aqua aerobics class once a month, if not more - actively pursue that whole 'me time' I hear other women brag about.
• be a better domestic goddess: many areas here can be improved upon however when it comes to folding and putting away washing, well that's my arch enemy
• go on a mini break with my little family, and maybe another friend and her family - ROAD TRIP!!
• save for our big holiday in two years time. not sure how we will achieve this but we're going, so gotta find the pennies somewhere!
• have a date night with my hubby at least once a month - our relationship is important too

There will be more I add to this, I'm quite sure.

Whats on your resolution list for 2013? Are you making resolutions? Do you ever stick to them? Can we help each other stick to them?

Santa's not real??

So for those of you playing along, you'll know I've been working at a large department store for a couple of months now, just casually, mainly weekends, but its enough to give me a break from the house, a few extra dollars and minimal daycare fees. The only real negative is missing out on family time and shitty customers who abuse me because they feel like it. Oh and the same shitty customers are the ones that trash the fitting rooms and spill coffee everywhere but you know, whatever, right?  Anyway, yesterday as I took my bag out of my locker at work I heard Santa come in to the staff room. Being Santa, everyone says hi so it's hard for the poor guy to go anywhere without a noisy entrance. If you're not Santa you can walk the corridors and be totally ignored but that's another post about how cliques exist everywhere you go and how frankly, women are each others worst enemies but let's focus. Santa nodded his head at me and said 'hello dear'. . . I smiled and nodded back, spluttering 'hello Santa' like some lovestruck teenage groupie. I felt like I was a child again, or I'd met a celeb and they knew my name - can you imagine?!?! I don't know why it was all warm and fuzzy but it was, and it was lovely to be acknowledged by someone who seemed so, nice. I wasn't there paying to have my childs photo taken as they screamed in his arms, he didn't HAVE to be nice to me, but he was. No wonder he was employed to be Santa. . . .

And then he undressed in front of me. Not naked, don't get me wrong - it ain't that kinda story *wink* but yep, Santa disrobed in front of me and I have to admit I blushed, and then didn't know where to look. He took the scratchy acrylic beard off, his Santa hat, and jacket - right in front of me, while he chatted to me about the weather like it was the most normal thing in the world to do. Next thing I knew, Santa was a normal bloke wearing some funny clothes. Sorry Santa, but I gotta be honest, I felt disturbed. Someone else asked how he was and he said 'bloody hot' with great attitude and gruff. Santa was clearly sweltering in his suit. He then sat and had lunch with a few of us staff.

I know Santa isn't real but there is just something magical about seeing a Santa in real life, especially when they look the part and are being lovely to kids. It's heart warming, tears to the eye, goosebump producing stuff that has gotten more lovey dovey for me since becoming a Mum. Carols; Away In A Manger and Mary's Child bring me to tears everytime. I still believe in Christmas and think of it as a magical time. Santa, to me, has the white beard, the red suit and black boots despite it being hot here, that's how it's always been and that's how it always will be. It's been playing on my mind ever since. I'm pretty confident in saying that the sight of Santa beardless, hatless, jacket and boot less, sitting in his red pants, white socks, overall straps or whatever they're called, and eating a sandwich while bitching about screaming kids and over controlling parents, well it's an image that probably won't ever leave me. Ever.

A little of my Christmas magic died yesterday, and that makes me sad. I hope my kids believe in Santa for as long as possible. . . and I'll do everything in my power to help that happen.



Meanwhile, if Santa in his pants had looked like this fella, well I dare say my after thoughts would have been verrryyyy different

Christmas at the library

Today we went to Christmas at the library, a free event which I stupidly had high hopes for. I thought they would do craft with the kids, tell stories, hell maybe Santa might appear and all the kids would receive a little something.

Before we entered the library we tackled the post office, with about 50 other people. The queue was out the non-automatic door that I struggled to get my pram and free ranging chicken, I mean toddler, through. No one helped me which was very un-christmas like and I swore under my breath as I pushed the pram over my own toe. We were off to a good start?!?! I pulled Monkey Man's leash (judge me all you want) and he came in kicking and screeching at the top of his lungs, and then went and picked up every bloody thing in reach. Everyone in the queue glared at me as my 3yo touched and picked up everything, pushing buttons that played noises and music on various toys. People started commenting on how I have my hands full and my what a big pram you have. Basically it was like any other outing... Thankfully the queue moved quite fast, we paid for and posted our parcels and I made a mental note to be more organised next year. Yeah right.

A quick donut stop, as promised, happened before we entered the library and once 'we' all got over the fact that no, we cannot have ten donuts each and that one will suffice, everyone stuffed their faces and off we went.

I had hoped that having just been fed there would be no fuss and we could enjoy the event. Instead, Little Miss tantrummed not long after we got in there as I made her get off a seat so an adult could sit down. The very eccentric man running story time (ie camp as a row of tents) actually stopped the story he was telling, glared at me with a patronising smirk and instructed everyone to 'just wait til someone sorts out that child'. Seriously, I wanted to punch him. We were at the back of the room and everyone was actually turned and looking at us?? I felt a rush of red hit my face as I tried to calm her down with a room of 50+ people staring at me. Eventually she forgot what she was crying about and went on her merry way, and thankfully the story continued. Storytime was then interrupted again by Monkey Man going to the front of the room to put his reindeer antlers with another set on a table. When he was told to go and sit down he informed everyone he was 'just putting his reindeer ears up here for a minute'. I laughed to myself and again, everyone stared at us. Both he and Missy Moo kept shoving things into a cardboard box Santa and screeching when they fell to the bottom and thus they couldn't get them out. Little Miss also interrupted story time for her version of baby yoga, ass in the air in a packed room with the biggest smile on her face. Every other child there sat quietly with their parents and listened to story. We were subjected to lame ass christmas carols with the words changed to be more australian eg 'dashing through the sand' WTF and a Santa in a costume that had seen better days. Missy Moo freaked at the site of Santa and hid in my lap. The kids were then told to line up, hello they're all 2-5?? to collect a gift from Santa - a DIY christmas card? I was then told that I couldn't have 3 as each child had to come to Santa themselves!! oh for fcuks sake! I pointed to my two girls in the pram, both looking terrified, and said 'do I really have to bring them over here, really??' at which point camp boss man said 'oh just give her the cards!' with major tude. Dude, you work in a library! Where is your bloody community spirit??

Christmas storytime was lame and not worth the effort of getting there and if we hadn't had books due back today I wouldn't have bothered. Bah bloody humbug! I figured the worst was over though and we could get some books to borrow and head home for nap time. Before I could grab her though, Little Miss climbed onto a lounge and fell down between it and the window. Queue loud screaming, crying and once again, everyone staring at us. No one helped me, they just stared. It was time to go.

Monkey Man depositing something into cardboard Santa

Missy Moo seeing if she can get it out

Meanwhile, Little Miss is doing toddler yoga complete with thigh rolls on display, with her ass in the air. Sigh

I'm oh so tired

So apparently I have low iron levels. So low that I'm not far away from needing injections. What the hell? I feel fine. My Dr asked me do I feel tired? Of course i bloody do so I said yes but I have 3 little kids so wouldn't necessarily attribute feeling tired to low iron. I'd blame it on a toddler (or 3) who never sits still, who runs I'm sure just to get me to chase him. I'd blame it on two princesses who wake overnight for trivial reasons, who wake each other up and more importantly wake us up. I'd blame my tired state on motherhood and to be honest, between being pregnant, recovering from births, being in a newborn fog and now literally chasing kids from sun up to sun down, I cannot remember the last time I didn't feel tired!! Add in my penchant for staying up waaaay too late and its all one big state of exhausted. . . . . But I assume my iron levels aren't helping. So more tablets go in, I'm trying to boost my intake through food choices as well and I'm doing what my Dr has told me. Not much I can do about the motherhood side of things but I can try to take care of me. Without me there won't be much mothering going on right?

I haven't forgotten its the silly season and hectic as ever so surely everyone is tired?? Not just me? How many weeks til the bearded fat man arrives??

Santa Photo 2012

It's been an embarrassingly long time since I blogged and I can offer no explanation other than life got in the way. My Mum has moved in and she has this thing about me sitting on the computer - says its antisocial and I suppose in a way she's right - does anyone else hate how their Mum is ALWAYS right? I've been working, only part time but long hours and I'm totally exhausted at the end of a few shifts. We've had my in-laws here for a week, all the way from England so there was no way I could be 'anti-social' and sit on the computer while they were here plus we were out and about doing things most days. Anyway, I'm here now, and I am sorry for my absence.

Last weekend we attempted to get a Santa photo of my kids, or as more commonly known, my 3 cheeky monkeys. We went on the Sunday - thinking it would be quieter - getting the kids dressed in some nice clothes and heading for the shops at opening time - anyone with small kids will tell you they're generally at their best first thing in the morning. I was worried about Missy Moo as she's afraid of most things and last year she howled during Santa photos and refused to sit on or anywhere near him. Stupidly I figured that Monkey Man and Little Miss would be fine as both are generally fearless. I didn't however factor in how tired they were from the busy days beforehand, or the wait time for Santa, or the horrendous mood Monkey Man had been in for the last couple of weeks. We waited about 20 mins for our turn with Santa, Monkey Man ran around destroying the place with hubby chasing him relentlessly, both girls were whinging in the pram so I was getting more frazzled by the minute. We finally got to our turn and Little Miss screamed and wouldn't go near Santa, Monkey Man also screamed but not only screamed, he decided then and there to throw an epic tanty including throwing himself around the bloody Santa sleigh. Santa was a moron who just stood there looking stupid, his helpers were asshats who stood and did nothing - their version of distracting the kids included ringing a bell once and squeaking some toy which resulted in more tears from 2 of my 3 children. The queue of people waiting is right in front of the set up so everyone was watching this car crash of an outing. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me there and then. I offered the kids so many things for just a few smiles including toys, donuts, milkshakes, nuggets, ice cream, lollipops but nothing helped and things were rapidly getting worse. We tried a different approach including me in the picture, then hubby in the picture, both of which were also epic fails, and honestly the whole thing was a disaster. On the only plus side Missy Moo not only talked to Santa but she sat on his lap! I couldn't believe it!! I looked at the pictures they took and they were all just horrible. Some were actually blurry which I don't understand - the camera is on a tripod? How?? Anyway, we left with no pictures, 3 screaming kids and 2 frazzled parents. Talk about a waste of time and effort. Hours later I was still fuming about what a waste of time it had been. There was a family in the queue in front of us with 7, yes 7, girls and they had dozens of photos to choose from as all 7 girls sat/stood up straight and smiled in each and every snap. WHAT THE!?!??!? I only have 3 kids! Why can't mine co-operate?? Ever??

Monday morning rolled around, my in-laws were staying with us and I decided we should try again. I figured a couple more adults would make things easier. Take two was alot easier, it was still a massive effort with tears, tantrums, bribery and asking Santa to vacate his own sleigh but we got a photo. It's not perfect, it's not what I wanted, their outfits don't match (don't judge me!) and my hubby is in it looking a little *ahem* simple but we got a bloody Santa photo for 2012. I won't go through it a third time this year to get a better pic . . . And I'm more than pleased we don't have to go through this ordeal again until next year.

 

and I had to get this one for future events like Little Miss' 21st . . . .check out Santa's face. 

Such a happy chap he was. Dick!

 

learning to share

With 3 kids so close in age learning to share is a daily battle. I cannot tell you how many times a day I say 'you've got to share with your brother/sister/friend' . . .If I had a dollar for every time I'd be a bloody millionaire!

We took the kids to a Halloween Fair on Sunday afternoon and they had a ball. Pancakes, ice cream, cakes, jumping castles, spinning tea cups, flying cars, a giant slide and of course show bags of useless cheap imported crap that's all broken within 48 hours of purchase. The imitation Dora hand bag has caused so many domestics between the 2 and 3 year old, and dont get me started on the fake Strawberry Shortcake hat that's now in two pieces and thus unwearable. Argh! Overpriced tat that we HAD to have! Every time they go for a sleep I put a few more small pieces in the bin and so far, I've gotten away with it every time.

According to a few 'raising children' articles I've read, kids don't really grasp the concept of sharing until 4 so I should probably accept that I'll be prattlling on about sharing for the forseeable future. Lord help me.

Today marks a week since my Mum moved in with us. She's staying with us while her house sells and her new place is built. The kids love having Nanny here, and me, well I'm getting used to it. Don't get me wrong, I love my Mum but we are very similar and therefore clash. Turns out its not just my kids that need to learn to share. Turns out I need to learn to share too... my space, my kids, my fridge, my chocolate - not in any particular order. Just before I had Little Miss I bought a chocolate sundae from maccas and put it in my freezer, ready for my arrival home from hospital. I was being a good girl and obeying the 'thou shall not eat soft serve when pregnant' rule. And ..... my Mum ate it. Seriously. If she was a friend I think I would have ended our friendship on the spot. Totally seriously! I was dreaming about that sundae and it was gone. I was so disappointed. Yes we will survive living together, there will be moments I'd dare say but we will survive.

Typically I am not a good sharer. A few years back I had a couple of friends stay with us when they first moved to Australia. Used tea bags were left on the kitchen bench, mere steps away from the bin, sheets weren't washed for weeks, housework wasn't done unless I threw a huge tanty - and then when it was done there was a whole 'praise me' performance to contend with. Why do men do that?? You vaccuumed, woohoo, get over yourself. The couple of times they did try to help by doing my washing, I got all funny about them touching my underwear. It's true what they say, sometimes there is just no pleasing some people hahaha. Ironically when they left I missed them. True story. A couple of years before that I flat shared with 4 other girls. 5 women in a 4 bedroom flat. Really. Yeah, there was some big ass fireworks often seen from that place!! Man we had some domestics in that place... good times! I also gained a friend for life and wouldn't change a thing. I blame youth - I'm older and wiser now right? Right?


I can't be the only person out there who doesn't like to share? When I met my hubby and we worked out that he likes lollies and I like chocolate, well I knew he was a keeper. It's simple really, Heed this message and we will live together in harmony, I promise.

  

Excuse me while I wrestle the bloody dora handbag free. . .  again.

New shoes for my Little Miss

Little Miss got some new shoes today, these here ones... cute hey? My poor baby, she's 14 months old and these are pretty much her first new shoes. She's really only had hand me downs so far, being a poor deprived, third child and all. They set me back $69 - can you believe that shit?? I didn't even look at the price, I was expecting about $35-40 and I had all 3 kids with me so I wanted to get the shoes and get out. I pretty much choked when she said that will be $69, in fact I think I said, 'sorry how much?' as I handed over my card and punched in my pin. Far out! $70 on a toddlers shoes? I'm still not coping, hence the fact I'm now writing about it some 6 hours later.

I took all 3 kids with me to the shops this afternoon. Hubby told me I was brave. Meh, its my normality but I will admit to avoiding it wherever I can. Anyway! First stop was for donuts in an attempt to buy me some additional retail time. I had to go to the post office before we could buy shoes so I needed more time than normal. The shoes currently being sported by Little Miss are totally mangled and her toes are touching the ends so I suppose they're officially too small. They were Missy Moo's so I really shouldn't complain about having to buy Little Miss her own pair, but I am a bit of a tight arse. We went to Target first, as I attempted to be cheap but nothing was suitable for the zombie walk stage Little Miss is currently at so begrudgingly we headed off to the proper shoe shop. First though we had to go past the toy section to check for a Car that Monkey Man wants. Of course they didn't have the bloody Car so Toy Story and Dora were substituted, anything to avoid tantrums right? My two toddlers then sat quietly in the shoe shop while Little Miss was measured and fitted, happily playing with their overpriced plastic craptastic toys. Both asked me which shoes they were getting and when the answer was none, well there was almost a meltdown, x2. I threw out a few of my usual distraction techniques which seemed to be working as I paid the bill and tried to ignore the $70 bill. Tantrums were however brewing as back-in-the-pram-time drew closer, and I knew it was time to call it a day. I got the kids back in the car and we headed home, mission accomplished - shoes purchased.

I drove home baulking at the $70 charge for shoes so small. Who am I? Since when have I, would I ever EVER pay that much for toddler shoes? My shoes are about $20 more than that and even then, I still think thats steep. Maybe I should return them and find something on sale? I mean, $70?? Holy crapballs!

The bottom line is they actually cost me alot more than $70
Donuts and drinks: $9.80
Crap toys: $60
Shoes: $70

Total: almost $140. 

Jeezus! Note to self. Do NOT take 3 kids with me to buy one thing as I come home with 20 things and quite a few $$ poorer. Never again!

JINX

The time you're convinced you jinxed your child. . . .

So at 5am this morning Monkey Man wet the bed. He's 3, he's been in undies overnight for a while now, after months of dry overnight nappies - we decided to break his attachment to nappies and move to big boy territory. He was rather attached to his 'blue poo (bear) nappy' and with 2 sisters in nappies still, I feel, he believes he's just like them so we had to do a bit of coaxing to get him to try undies overnight. Once he gave it a go, he never looked back and this mornings incident was the first one we've had yet. No big deal, change the bed, his PJs and try to get him back to sleep - which was an epic fail but again, no big deal he just had a 2.5 hour day sleep today as he was exhausted.

I however have been beating myself up all day as I was convinced I jinxed him. I went to dinner last night with the girls from my mothers group - we all have 3 year olds and the conversation, as it does, went to toilet training and where everyone was upto. I love my mothers group, its never a competitive 'my kid is better than yours' conversation, more like 'we did things this way, try it and see how you go', and never anything but supportive.... anyway! Turns out Monkey Man is one of the few not wearing a night nappy (which surprised me) and I will admit I felt a little proud, a little like I was doing a good job - don't ask me to explain that! I don't, at all, think anyone else is doing a bad job nor do I think we are better than anyone else. I just felt a little proud of my boy and that after a rocky start he managed to master the toilet training thing pretty easily and I have thought a few times how easy it all was. I've never stated this out loud because,  much like the whole 'don't speak of the sleeping child' principle, with two more kids to toilet train I would, for sure, be setting myself up for failure. I've heard such horror stories re toilet training so maybe I had psyched myself up for a bad time, and maybe because it wasn't, well I was shocked? I'm ever so grateful and hoping this mornings accident was just that, an accident and he continues to be a superstar.  And I'm very grateful I bought mattress protectors just in case.

Funnily enough it turns out hubby has been thinking he jinxed Monkey Man too. He was on the phone with a mate last night who has a little boy around the same age as ours. While they were chatting away, his little boy decided to poop on the floor. As you do. Chat turned to toilet training and hubby went on a bit of a 'puff your chest out with pride' rant about how easily Monkey Man got hold of toilet training once we really pushed him. I think its a man thing to brag like that, or perhaps just a parent thing? Either way, he went on a bit. And then Monkey Man wet the bed.

I blame the husband, he jinxed Monkey Man - it totally wasn't my fault. Now lets never speak of this again

xxx

day of the fcuktard!!

Today has been one of those days, where all the fcuktards in my local area came out to annoy me.... seriously.

It started with a playdate in the park with my little people. Right before my eyes a kid of about 2 years old shoved my Little Miss over... I was mad but thought ok, he's only small, let it go. Then he knocked Missy Moo over. What the hell? His mother not only stood by but watched and said nothing! I'm all for letting kids stand up for themselves and learning how to fight your own fights, but come on?? I waited, I shot her a look, nothing. I said to the little thug that we don't push others and maybe he should go and play on some other equipment. He toddled off after glaring at me, his mother glared at me but peace was restored... for all of 5 minutes before he was back. Again, unprompted, and with no apparent reason he shoved Missy Moo so hard she fell backwards and burst into tears. It took every inch of strength in me not to shove that kid into the middle of next week. I decided it was time for the mother to step up. I asked her if she could please stop her child from pushing and shoving, or at the very least speak to him. I also apologised for interrupting her gossip session with her friend but if she could please parent for a few minutes, just a few, then maybe the rest of the kids in the park might be able to enjoy themselves. She said nothing, just glared, and took her child over to some different equipment. She continued to glare at me, her kid continued to be a thug and before I knew it naptime was here so we left in a flurry of tanties - 'I'm not tired, I don't want to go home yet, I don't need a sleep etc etc etc'.

Naptime was a success (thankgod!) and against my better judgement I dragged all three kids to the post office. I should have known better, I mean really I should have, but off we went. The kids were going mental, I had parcels to send so between them, the nappy bags and the kids there was alot to carry. I then got attitude from the post office lady who tried to charge me $50 postage to send a parcel (I told her to forget it). . .  Monkey Man was trying to open boxes of toys - why oh whyyyyyy do they put everything at kid height in these places??? I dragged him out kicking and screaming and into Coles we went.

I had 3 restless kids, a nappy bag, and a bag full of parcels and I watched, distraught, as the last double toddler trolley was taken by a woman in front of me, with no kids. Fcuk, fcuk fcuk!!! Don't panic I told myself, keep calm. I called out to her and asked if we could possibly grab that trolley, I pleaded with my eyes... it went downhill from there.

Woman: No, I had it first.
Me: are you serious? you don't even have any kids with you?
Woman: That's not the point, I was here first. sips coffee
Me: I have 3 kids here and could really use that trolley, it's a few seconds of your day to swap trolleys, come on.... MONKEY MAN put that down!
Woman: not my problem. And she turned and walked off - WITH MY TROLLEY!!


OMFG! The rage I felt! I cannot begin to even put into words how angry I was. If I didn't have my kids with me, the expletives I was spouting would have been loud and clear rather than under my breath. I was SO angry! The kids clearly picked up on my mood as I then put up with non stop tanties throughout Coles. I saw the woman a few times, casually shopping (with MY trolley!), sipping her coffee, looking perfectly relaxed.... I purposely took my time whenever we were near each other and let the kids go mental. I hope she went home with a migraine to match her filthy attitude. I came home feeling so bloody frazzled and cursing myself for attempting to run errands with the kids with me.

Is it a full moon? When did people get so bloody rude? What is up with parents who let their kids run wild and turn a blind eye? What is with rude fcuking people that take the last kiddy trolley and then argue about it, or rather don't. Who would seriously do that? And who is in charge of shop layouts and why, please god tell me why they put kids stuff at kid height!! bastards.

Argh! Today was a day of fcuktards for sure!!!

playdates and pancakes

Yesterday I bundled my tribe into the car and we headed off for a playdate. A friend with two little men the same age as my Monkey Man and Missy Moo graciously offered to host us at their house, and even put the jumping castle up for us - talk about rolling out the red carpet of playdates! Holy crap! My kids were so excited about the jumping castle, which was lucky as I got to hear about it all the way there, in traffic. It was a rather hellishly long drive. Of course once we got there they were more interested in the inside toys and the poor jumping castle sat glistening in the sun, practically begging to be jumped on. Instead they chose to drag all the soft toys off beds, destroy the train table and tip all the toys out of storage units. Hell even the shower toys were dragged out. I spent the entire time telling, asking and telling them to pick that up, put that back, be gentle, stop throwing that all while catching Little Miss as she fell down the single back step over and over and OVER again. Surely once you fell down somewhere once you would learn, or at the very least be hesitant?? Nope, apparently not.

My friend made pancakes for all 5 kids for lunch. Legend! She tolerated the noise of 5 under 5 alot better than I did. I found myself saying 'inside voices' quite a few times which was rather fruitless given they couldn't even hear me over their own noise. She worked til 3am. I mean, seriously, what a legend! No way would I be hosting 5 hooligan, hyped up, over excited kids after such little sleep. Hosting a gathering of small people is full on enough with a decent nights sleep let alone when you're running on empty. And as for pancakes, I'm seriously lucky to have enough bread or fruit for all the kids when I host a gathering. and I certainly don't have a jumping castle. Yep, my friend is a mummy legend!!!

So, we came, we trashed, we ate them out of bread and fruit, we tantrummed, and then we left! All three monkeys were asleep in the car within minutes of hitting the road and I was tempted to drive far far away and let them sleep. If I hadn't needed petrol I would have done just that. Instead Monkey Man woke when we got home and refused to go back to sleep, meaning a very LONG afternoon for all of us. The girls slept, thankfully, as three cranky kids is enough to drive me to drink. For real. 

Maybe in my next life I can be a awesome hostess with the mostest?? Maybe this book will give me some much needed tips? Could you imagine it?

You bring the wine, I'll bring the cork screw? 
You bring the vodka, I'll bring the mixer? 
Kids? what kids? hic, oh they're fine

 **cheers**

My 13mth old is a tornado. . .

a whirlwind, and every.single.day she tears through my house (or others) with no fear, no regret and there is absolutely no way of stopping her.

My son at this age was much the same. He rolled over, sat up, crawled, stood and walked earlier than other kids his age and was into EVERYTHING. I was pregnant during all of this which made it that extra bit trying, and then had a newborn so I think I've blocked out alot of Monkey Man at 13mths old. Missy Moo was a calmer, quieter baby but the jealousy she demonstrated when Little Miss came along was horrendous. Sadly, I either don't remember my older kids at 13mths because I've blocked it out or was busy with a newborn and I simply forget. Either way, I don't remember this stage .  . . and quite frankly it's hard bloody work.

The good stuff: she's walking, she's babbling, she's super independent and can hold her own in a toddler brawl with her siblings. She eats pretty much everything, loves books, is mastering steps and stairs, climbs with no hesitation and seems to get braver by the second. Seeing her stumble around the house saying 'mum mum mum mum mum' is pretty damn cute.

The bad stuff: she's still stumbling when walking so we have many tears over a crash, splat or a stumble, she's frustrated by her lack of communication so the screaming and squawking is of epic proportion, she can hold her own in a toddler fight and seems to have no fear - and usually initiates the brawl! Sharing is non existent so I now have three non-sharers. She would eat non stop if I let her - did I mention she's in a size two already? Giant baby! She loves books but hasn't mastered paper yet so we're frequently taping books up - sorry to our local library. She's worked out how to go UP stairs and steps but coming down is another story altogether, resulting in more crashes, splats and stumbles and of course accompanied tears and tanties. She climbs onto the lounge and beds with no hesitation but hasn't mastered getting down without even more bumps and crashes. She's covered in bruises and I swear they are self inflicted. And don't even get me started on the clingy phase we're in right now?!?!? whoa, intense much! It's ok, I've worked out how to not go to the loo ALL day as I just get screamed at when I leave the room, screamed at.like.I've.murdered.her!!!

How did I deal with one of these and a screaming, hungry newborn too? Twice over. How??? What was I thinking? This too shall pass, this too shall pass is the only thing getting me though right now. . . its lucky she's so damn cute

and for what its worth, my other two were pretty damn cute at 13 mths also - thats obviously why I did it *love*

I wanna be a 'sincess'

 
Missy Moo says things that are so funny and so sweet at times... today she told me she's 'going to be a sincess when she grows up'. . . doesn't every little girl want to be a princess?

She has difficulty saying the letter P so princess is 'sincess'. For a while Thomas the Tank Engine was 'Thosam the Tank Engine' much to Monkey Man's disgust. April is usually called 'Aptil'. Mr Potato Head is 'tato head' and we go to McDonald's to get 'chicken and nuggets and chippies' - sigh these are the things I will forget in years to come, won't I?

Tonight she moved into her big girl bed, complete with Dora doona cover which she pretty much hyper ventilated over - the girl loves her Dora. She looks so small in a bed . . . growing so fast.

When I was a little girl I wanted to be a lawyer, or a teacher. Something about being authorative I think? I had a Peaches and Cream Barbie that I adored and kept in pristine condition, I had dolls I used to dress up and play with for hours but I don't remember wanting to be a princess. If anything, fairies were more my thing. The idea of something magical living in the garden, sprinkling fairy dust on everything was just wonderful and more believable. Princesses waiting for their knight in shining armour seemed so unrealistic to me even at a young age. Maybe my perception was altered due to being a child of divorce? I mean my Mum was on her own, she didn't need a man so why would I? Besides being locked in a tower or staying asleep or kissing frogs until I found the perfect man, pfft to those options. The dresses were pretty kick ass though, and along with Dora my Missy Moo loves the Disney Princesses, apparently wants to be one and well, that's ok with me... I'd rather foster her growing love of princesses and boot the opinionated, loud, sassy Dora and that stupid bloody back pack of hers out any day! God that show annoys me.

Missy Moo loves purple, Dora, shoes, having her hair done or played with, and so far it seems, her big girl bed. We sat and went through a catalogue the other day in a rare moment of one on one time... she picked out everything pink or purple and told me they were 'pretty', she then went on to tell me 'me wear them'. I fear the days of me choosing her clothes are rapidly drawing to a close. I held a friends baby yesterday, who is 4.something kgs at 9 weeks old - Missy Moo was born weighing 4kg and honestly I don't remember her that small. I don't really remember any of my kids at that age, apart from the crying and screaming and feeding and sleeping all swaddled up, and the cuteness - oh there was some serious cuteness in her jumbo cheeks. . . She's growing up so fast, and so long as she's happy I don't care whether she's a princess or a fairy, but I would definitely vote for the lawyer or doctor option if it was up to me. I plan to be expensive to care for in my old age, and I'm gonna get revenge for all that crying and screaming and feeding. Cuteness will be optional.

  xxx

another outing, another freak show siting

I took the kids to the local shops today, Monkey Man needed a haircut, Missy Moo needed a fringe trim as the poor kid has been looking through a blonde mop for a while now. On a promise of donuts and milkshakes if they behaved (don't judge, you do it too) we sat and waited our turn. Monkey Man was running free in the shop and did pretty well - its a good day if he doesn't escape out the door! When it was his turn he jumped up into the chair with great enthusiasm, I get the feeling he quite enjoys a haircut, bless him. He sat there like a total champion, watching Mickey Mouse on the portable DVD player - how did people parent without modern technology?? Of course the most exciting part was getting gel in his hair 'like a big boy' and he proudly showed me his haircut for the rest of the day - when you're three it really is the little things that make your day isn't it? Mind you, I too love a good hair cut. And don't even get me started on what a good blow dry does for my mood . . .

The lady that cut his hair asked me if he and Missy Moo were twins. She was the only staff member there at the time. I told her no, they're 12mths apart and she then proceeded to tell me how crazy I was to have them so close together, did we have a TV, blah blah blah. Her colleague then come back from a break and she asked me the same question, sigh, no they're not twins. She then told me hers are five years apart and that's a much better gap and was I crazy blah blah blah!! Argh!!

Missy Moo had her fringe chopped, I rescued the scissors and water spray from Monkey Man and we exited. We walked less than ten metres before we were stopped by another random, an old man this time. He asked me if they were all girls (what the??), how old they were... I answered him (slowly) and he then grabbed my wrist and told me 'you better not have anymore or it will cost too much money' and shuffled off into the distance. Clearly thinks he's a prophet or something??

Another outing, another dose of lectures from random strangers! What is it with me? Why do randoms feel the need to talk to me? and why oh whyyyy do they inflict their opinions on me over and over again?

I dare ya

I read a blog by a gorgeous mamma bear Andrea and honestly, I'm inspired everytime. Andrea does dares and encourages people to join in, and they do - by the thousands!!! I'm playing along this week with the 'wear red lipstick every day for a week' dare. . .  join in, I dare ya

Day 1 - well techinically this was date night with the hubby but there is lippy and its red so it totally counts, totally!

Let's see if I can see it through . . .

educated decisions

Monkey Man is 3, he only turned 3 a couple of months ago yet today we went to a Schools Expo to see about which school to send him too. It seems so far away, he's not going til 2015 but apparently we need to make a decision now. Am I the only one that finds this ridiculous? He's 3!!! It seems to be the way of the modern parenting world though, you have to waitlist for swimming lessons, daycare, school, gah! It's infuriating!

The schools expo was a gathering of the independent schools in the area, all spouting their own importance and why we should choose them. Some of the fees are heart attack inducing. And thats thinking about it from one childs perspective. When you think about paying school fees for 3 kids, well the dollars are out of this world, never buying another pair of shoes or going on a holiday ever again ridiculous.

Like every parent we want the best education for our children, but one has to work within their means surely? I know people who have sold their houses, who are living every month with their finances being controlled by a debt consolidation company - all to pay school fees. Am I on my soapbox saying that won't be us? Am I being unrealistic? I like to think not, I like to think I am planning ahead and by multiplying the costs by three I am seeing the bigger picture and therefore eliminating schools we simply cannot afford. Unless my idea of becoming a sex line operator** turns us into millionaires, there are schools we cannot afford and you know what, thats ok. We will read the 55 brochures and go on tours, we will research school results and google google google! We will choose a school that suits us, our kids, and our budget and funnily enough we're 99% sure the school we thought was right for us is looking like it will be. And in all things important, it's got a totally adorable uniform. Priorities and all that.

Now can I go back into my denial cave that my baby boy will be at school before I can blink?? Say it isn't so . . .




**totally joking re becoming a sex line operator - I couldn't be assed going through the ass ache of setting up my own business

5 years of wedded bliss

Last week a beautiful woman I knew through the online community was run over and killed. She was the same age as me, she had a two year old and was about to have her second baby. Her baby, who was to be named Olivia, was also killed. Two lives taken, many more changed forever in a mere instant. I've been reading news articles about her life, her love for her husband and her daughter, her passion for life and its got me thinking... If I was to die tomorrow how would people remember me? Would anyone remember how I met my husband apart from him? When our kids ask how Daddy met Mummy I would like them to be able to read it somewhere. And rather fittingly, today is 5 years since our wedding so here is our story.

My hubby and I met in London in 2003. I was on a working holiday and he lived there, being a pom and all. I never intended to meet someone and have a serious relationship. I was young, single and on the other side of the world - ready to party!! I started a temp job at his work place and we were put on a project together. We were based in different buildings though, on opposite sides of the city and never met face to face. Our friendship began over the phone and blossomed from there - I'm sure my flatmates at the time will testify how much I hogged the phone of a night time. Sorry about that. After weeks of talking most of the day and alot of the evening we finally went on a first date. I can tell you, I was so bloody nervous, and I'm not a nervous kind of person, ever. Neither of us are gourment foodies so we went to a local pub for dinner and a drink for our memorable first date. We ended up chatting so much we forgot to eat and before we knew it the pub was closing and we were being asked to leave. There was no awkward silences, no tension and it just felt right. If I was nervous before the date, I was worse now. What if he didn't feel the same way? He drove me home, we talked some more (ie hours!) and then had a lovely kiss goodnight. I floated up the stairs to my flat and was on a high for hours after. I had met someone special, which was not part of my plans but you know what they say about the best laid plans.

We started dating, and as he worked shifts I could still have me time which suited perfectly. I still travelled and partied on weekends with friends and made some seriously awesome memories, as you do in your early 20's. We moved in together after dating for some time - I'd have to check my dates to give an exact time frame - and started discussing moving back to Australia. If it was going to work we would need to live together and trial it before moving to the other side of the world. Me being an aussie I was never planning to stay in England and he seemed quite open to the idea of living here. I wanted a family at some stage and wanted to be around my own family when that time came. I also liked England, loved it in fact but could not see myself living there forever. I missed my family and friends terribly and couldn't wait to get home. It was either break up or move here, so in 2005 move here we did!

We rented for a year before buying a house - the fixer-upper house we had all these plans for but never got around to as we were too busy being DINKs (double income no kids) and partying with friends most weekends. We had gotten engaged Christmas 2005 and started planning our wedding. With an 20mth engagement we had loads of time, we wanted a weekend of celebration and wanted to give family and friends as much notice as possible. I can honestly say I was a pretty laid back bride to be. I had specific ideas (ie wanting dark coloured bridesmaids dresses) but was open to change and did a few little things myself to reduce costs and make it a bit personal. We had an absolute ball that weekend and there is nothing I would change.

We got married in the Hunter Valley and with out nearest and dearest coming from all over the place - some travelled from the UK and we wanted to make a weekend of it. Dinner the night before with our families and our bridal party, the wedding on Saturday and breakfast on the Sunday with all of our guests - bacon and egg rolls for 80+ people, no worries!    

On this day, at this time 5 years ago I was wearing jeans and a hoodie... and a veil. I was also in full make-up and eating sandwiches with my Nanna who has since passed away. I was nervous, I was excited and I was trying not to tear up as my beautiful Nan told me how proud she was of me and how happy she was for me. I was minutes away from squeezing into my wedding dress, posing for 100's of photos and walking, almost skipping, down the aisle to marry my now hubby.

I can only imagine what Kerryn's husband and family are going though. My hubby almost died about 9 months before we got married, in a stupid alcohol induced accident and my world stopped. The pain is inconceivable and that was with him getting through it. We got through it so the pain is minimal in comparison. I can't even begin to imagine how you get through losing someone like that. We experienced the pain of miscarriage a couple of times on our journey to become parents, and then went on to have 3 babies back to back, and proudly I can say we've gotten through it all. If my life was to end tomorrow I'd want my husband to know how much I love him, our children and how proud I am of the life we have made together. Happy 5th wedding anniversary babe, start saving for the fantabulous 10 year vow renewal party coming our way! woot!

RIP Kerryn and Olivia, thankyou for sharing so much of your life with so many of us.
I will continue to share my stories in honour of you and the inspiration you've given me.

You will never be forgotten xxx

Us in the early days:

 

The trouble with taking a trip down memory lane is you realise how much you've aged, how much weight you've put on, lost, put on again over the years but without the photographic memories you'd never rememeber half the stuff you did, half the places you went and half the booze you drank. In 5 years of marriage we have had some trying times.  I plan to organise a vow renewal at ten years, and I'm gonna wear a smoking hot dress and I'm gonna be barefoot - we're gonna have gorgeous photos with our family and some lovely dovey ones just the two of us. . . here's to another 5 years and many more xxx

Back to . . . Reality

 
On the 6th of August my camera died, it was quick, sudden in fact but definitely not painless (especially for my hubby who got the blame). Since then, I've been waiting not so patiently for it's repair and most importantly, it's return. Tomorrow a new lens is being shipped to me, or so they say. They have told me a few times that it would be 'a few more days' and then, well, nothing happens and I've had to chase them again so forgive me for being doubtful and a little untrusting. I'm convinced they're only sending me a new lens as I have been pestering them and they want me to go away. Or they forgot to repair it and are sending me a new one as its quicker. Either way, they need to send me a lens that works and pronto - I feel like I've lost a limb without my camera. It's their fault I am cranky and impatient to be honest, they told me 1-2 weeks and well its been 4 so I think I've been more than patient.

The sun is shining, the skies are clear and there is a hint of warmth in the air - my kids are in t-shirts and shorts and there is chubby toddler arms and legs everywhere I look. I need to be capturing those memories and the trusty point and shoot, while functional just doesn't give me the images I want. I'll get the lens back and it will turn to winter again won't it?

Tomorrow also marks my return to the SAHM gig. It's been a long 3 months away from my monkeys and while I'm excited to be home again with them, sadly I don't think the feeling is mutual. I've been trying to explain to Monkey Man and Missy Moo that I'll be home again and they don't have to go to school anymore, only on Fridays and well, neither are impressed or keen on the new status quo. Little Miss doesn't seem to mind either way and seems to be in a bit of clingy stage, wanting to be picked up alot so it shall be an interesting week. I've planned a busy week to try and distract them (and I!) - if you hear a story about a crazy lady with 3 kids and an incident at the local library, theres a high chance its about me and my tribe. I apologise in advance to anyone attending the library this week, what more can I say? Play dates are scheduled including one with some of the girls from my mothers group who I have missed. 3 kids tearing up my house isn't enough right, why not add in another 4 or 5??

I'm not a total lunatic though, I have a child free Friday to look forward to and have intentionally made no plans whatsoever. I intend to get a massage, my hair done and read a book with a wine in hand before the kidlets need picking up and the dinner, bath, bedtime routine commences. Isn't that what all stay at home mums do? I might even get a lunch with the girls in? Pfft! I wish!! Reality will be more like me blitzing my badly neglected housework duties and getting a major start on the spring cleaning. Blinds, window sills, curtains, floors, urgh the whole lot needs attention and alot of it. If anyone finds the cleaning fairy that was supposed to take care of my house while I worked, please tell that bi*ch she's now on my hit list! Ahhhh reality how I missed thee . . .

Fathers Day 2012

Fathers Day never meant much to me as a child. Divorce tends to do that to a kid. Mine was a crappy father and really doesn't deserve the title Dad. He's been no father to me, and sadly or should that be luckily has never met my kids so has not had a chance to ruin them. My mum did a stellar job raising two kids on her own and we always got her a little something on Fathers Day, just to say thanks. I'm sure she hated the soap gift packs and hand knitted tea towels but she knew they came with love and appreciation.

I've mentioned my Dad before but never really gone into it as I've felt he wasn't worth the effort. As I watch my husband with our children I really don't understand how my own Dad was the way he was, and really how he still is. How can any person be a parent and not be there for their kids? How can a drinking session or another torrid affair with some cheap slut be worth more than time with your children? How can you not want to be there for their first steps, their first days at school, their first dancing concert? How can you not want to know your children? Really, I'm not angry, I don't hate him and in many ways I pity him, but honestly what it comes down to is the fact that I don't understand him. I never will and quite frankly I never want to. Countless times he left my brother and I stood there waiting for him, waiting to spend a weekend with him, a trip to the zoo with him, that we were so excited about. There we would sit with our bags packed, dressed in our finest clothes, watching the clock and jumping up every time a car turned our corner only to be disappointed and sad, over and over again. There was never even a phone call to explain why he didn't show up, just disappointment and rejection and its unforgivable. Countless times Mum was left to wipe away our tears and tell us it would be ok, that he really did love us and something must have come up, there must be an explanation. Countless times I heard her yelling down the phone at him, when she thought I was asleep, yelling at him for being a scumbag bastard, how dare he let us down AGAIN, how dare he???? I hated the fighting, but I hated the disappointment more. I hated him for hurting us, mum, everyone. Why didn't he love us? How dare he?

He's got a new family now, this is his 4th marriage, his 4th or 5th (I've lost count) family? He's now in his 60's and his current partner is expecting their second child, his 6th. He is 60+. Seriously. He's an embarrassment to me, my siblings, his ex-wives and ex-friends, of which there is many. We have nothing to do with each other and I intend to keep it that way. As a wife I am disgusted by his cheating and deceptive ways. As a mother I am cut to the core by his treatment of his children and grandchildren - none of which he has ever bothered with. I will not subject my children to a grandparent who does nothing but hurt and disappoint them. I hope for the sake of his current family that he is different, that he has learnt from his mistakes but I highly doubt it.

In hindsight, in my own life I honestly think I sought out a man with polar opposite qualities and attributes to my Dad and whilst you can't predict the future you can judge a person by their actions. If you say you're going to do something, do it. If you say you're going to be somewhere, be there - on time when possible! It doesn't take much to quickly phone and say you're running late. And never ever ever just don't show up, ever! 

My children are blessed with a father who is always there, even when he's away for work he wants to know everything that's happened during the day, everything he's missed. He knows their favourite foods, he knows their favourite colours, he knows how one likes their sandwich cut vs the other, he knows that one likes pink milk in a purple cup and the other likes chocolate milk in a green cup, he always knows where the favourite toy has been hidden or left. He is better at early mornings than me, he gets up multiple times at night to deal with lost dummies, dropped water cups, too hot, too cold, snot on my nose, covers off, fan on, heater off, etc etc and he rarely complains about any of this. He remembers weights for medicine purposes and helicopter parents with the best of them, especially in parks, car parks, driveways and shopping centres. He adores the hand print arts and crafts they make him, preferring these to expensive gifts on any occasion. He's a fantastic Daddy and our kids totally worship him - Monkey Man and Missy Moo want to be like him and mimic him wearing hats and sunglasses. They wear his shoes and clomp around our bedroom and often trip over themselves running to the door squealing with excitement whenever he comes home. Little Miss shuffles and squeals when she sees him and her arms go straight up for a cuddle and to be picked up. What better sight and sound, albeit loud, to come home to?

I don't give my husband enough credit for being the fantastic father he is, and I should. Fathers Day is about saying thanks afterall. So thankyou dear husband for being everything a father should be, everything I wish I had when I was a child. Thankyou for being my partner and helping me raise our three monkeys. I look forward to seeing that special father/daughter relationship between you and our girls, the one I never had. I will cry buckets when you walk our daughters down the aisle. I look forward to seeing that father/son bond over rugby and beers, the one my brother should have shared with our father. Until then I will just beam with pride when our monkeys want Daddy cuddles, Daddy to read the bedtime story, Daddy kisses goodnight and Daddy to get up with them in the morning - sorry bout that one! hahaha

Happy Fathers Day 2012, we love you so much! xxoo

5 minutes of fame

I experienced 5 minutes of fame today, and I'm not ashamed to admit, I kinda liked it.

I started this blogging business as a way to vent my frustrations as well as record my childrens' milestones - perhaps that should be the other way round?? I never expected to be contacted by anyone and asked to write for them - and I certainly didn't expect two different places to contact me in a matter of days? Convinced it was a wind up of some sort, I was slightly wary but turns out they read my blog and well, kinda like my style. I've said nothing about it as I didn't know if it would turn into anything (did I mention I was wary??)....Could I meet a deadline? Could I write how they wanted? Could I meet a word limit demand - I do tend to waffle on a bit. Anyway! I often wonder if anyone is reading my rambles, whinges and complaints? Turns out, yes people are actually reading my stuff. Like, wow!!

Yesterday I submitted my first article and not only did they like it, and not re-write it too much, they hit the publish button - today! Totally surreal to see your own name next to 'written by'??

So apparently now more people are reading my stuff. . . and well, thats just awesome!! Maybe I shouldn't swear so much? Maybe I shouldn't ask myself questions so much? I'm proud of my 5 minutes of fame, it most likely won't turn into anything else but who cares.

Come check my article here - yes it's about the bloody birthday party again. That's what I was asked to write about - it's not my fault!! Please, come share a virtual glass of champers with me darlings and celebrate my five minute brush with fame. I promise to remember all my lovely friends when I'm a total celeb, like for real.

In case you're feeling not worthy right now, don't panic. I still changed what I'm sure was 100 shitty nappies today, and I washed eleventy billion socks, I cleaned up food mess and toynamis that seem to take over the house multiple times a day. Hell I had a total snap moment and poured a half full cup of water over my Monkey Man when he wouldn't stop pouring it all over the table. Two wrongs and all that? Shit! In hindsight I didn't handle that well. Oh yes, I'm living the dream people, living.the.dream.

xx