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