How Do You Catch a Cloud and Pin it Down?

My family have always jested about how the "gypsy" blood has got the better of me. My biological father (whose notions are sometimes unconfirmable!) has told me part of his heritage comes from Gypsy stock. When I'd tell him on the phone I was "moving house yet again" he'd laugh and say "Oh my poor little Gypsy girl"... "Why ME?!" I would exclaim. Noone else in my family seems to have been as unsettled in their lives as I have. My dad right enough, has moved around several times... Yet not quite as much as myself. My grandparents did too, but namely for work reasons. Everyone else has been able to remain solid and grounded and remain happily in their homes. Yet I seem to carry with me an unscratchable itch that carries me somewhere else as if the wind changes suddenly and tells me to do so.

Myself - I'm currently of 27 years of age... I am always on the "go"... I left home 11 years ago at 16, and have (honestly) lived in at least 30 different "homes" - whether they be passing fleeting stays with friends, or established properties with partners, or my own houses, ever since I left the family nest. I've never beenkicked out or evicted or anything... I just get "itchy" and am compelled to go elsewhere, I get a feeling of it being "time to move on". I don't understand it myself... Of these 30-odd homes, they have been sprawled out over 5 different countries, and I'm never afraid to move somewhere new and unknown. Likewise, I've had many a meaningful, yet fleeting whirlwind romance along my travels... I captivate the heart of someone, and then within about a year or so, my heart goes running off and I chase it elsewhere.

It's now the 1st of August and yet again I've found myself looking at "where to move next" and, considering I have a 22 month old son and a 4 month old daughter nowdays, it'd be nice to think I could sit still for once! We only moved into this house in October of last year and yet I'm already - for both physical, tangible reasons as well as unfathomable sub-conscious ones - feeling a drive to get out of this place. I've never rented the one property for any longer than 12 months before... Hence the constant can't be the houses, the towns, the neighbours, the landlords/agents as all have been very different from place to place. The constant is me. And whilst I'm longing to be settled, I just haven't found the "right" place to do that yet. It'd better happen soon - before my children are no longer as flexible and adaptable to changing scenery like this.

It's strange and uncontrollable. I wonder sometimes if there really is something in my blood... I think this will be one of the biggest lessons for me to learn. How to stay still! In the meantime, looks like we're looking for a new place again!

"Unique" - just like everyone else...

Apologies in advance for how "ranty" this post may indeed come across.

However after a severe review of my Facebook recently, particularly a cut-down en masse of all except a vert few favourite businesses I follow from appearing in my news feed (I had more businesses in my feed than I had friends!) it's making me take a more scrutinised look at the "WAHM" and hand-made movenment...

Whilst I enjoy, support and admire anyone with the skill, dedication, effort and energy to produce items for sale from their own homes - a hand on the back to anyone who does produce something unique and clever and crafty, especially when it requires passion and skill - but whilst I love the ideas of sourcing from locally made producers versus commercial manufacturers, I am starting to get bored with browsing all the WAHM pages... Firstly because there are such an overwhelming amount of them, and secondly because a staggering majority of the "unique children's clothing and home items" pages and whatnot are all selling the SAME sort of stuff... the same types of fabrics show up, in the same styles, there's been huge uproar about WAHMs "stealing" other WAHMs ideas/concepts, ripping off patterns, blatantly replicating another person's work and the like (which truth be told - it does happen - yet is so hard to moderate and police).

Anyhow the main point is I'm making is that I am starting to fall out of love with my WAHM passion... The romance I had for it is fading. Whilst I still prefer home-made over mass-produced, commercial bought goods anyday without a doubt - there's only so many korkers, necklaces made of buttons, and cut out door name-plates you can look at before they all start looking the same... The thing I used to like about WAHM made was that everyone's stuff was so different and unique! But ANYONE can buy a cut-out wooden word off ebay and paint it with cheap paint from Cheap as Chips for God's sake. How do some WAHMs have the nouse to charge upwards of $30 for something anyone can do themselves for less than $10? And how have people become so lazy that they're willing to buy them?!?

I adore that handmade is "back" and sewing is "hip" - but honestly, am I the only person who is starting to think there are just too many pages/websites/market stalls selling too much of the same stuff (yet labelling it "unique", "different" and "individual")???

I still have my very favourite WAHMs - my "go to" WAHMs whom I guess I would treat like I would a favourite shop - which I am confident I will continue to use as they offer that "something else" or extremely well-made items, or things that are really "different" or inventive/clever/individual... However if I can try and make a bit more time in my days I'd like to spend more time concentrating on creating things myself at home. One-off pieces etc. Especially focussing on upcycling / repurposing. Things I can't do myself I'll continue to source if I need to of course, but from now on I'm not buying anything WAHM unless it's first of all special and second of all, made with some heart.

I don't mean to upset, hurt or offend anyone with this post - and I hope none of my WAHM friends take it personally (you know who you are, and you know I'd always be supportive of you anyhow!) but I am just starting to think it's all a bit overwhelming. It's hard to remember when Facebook was a platform just for socialising- remember that? Back when noone bought and sold items on there? It's hard to even remember...!

Peace out... Rant over ;)

Big Friday Night In

Sometimes I try and remember what my life was like before my babies came along. Tonight, I've spent Friday night in (not uncommon!) sewing a fairy dress, chatting on the phone to a couple of friends, quickly sneaking off for a bubble bath whilst the littlest one is asleep and enjoying a quiet "easy" night without my toddler at home (he's at his grandparent's house)... and I recall what Iused to be doing on a Friday night and imagine what I might be doing tonight if my babies had not come along.

In the months leading up to my falling pregnant with my first-born, the average Friday used to consist of knocking off work (I was working as an accounts executive for a captive insurance firm) at 5:00pm, meeting my partner at the local pub closest to work (On Fridays I used to dress in work clothes that easily converted into going out clothes with a quick shoe-swap from the stash I kept in my filing-cabinet, last minute make-up pile on and a 5-minute upstyle before knock-off time). I'd meet my partner and his work colleagues over at the pub and we'd have a couple of rounds and indulge in classic "work talk". We'd grab some dinner (albeit normally something disgusting from the Chip Van behind the pub).

From there before doing the figure-8 of pubs in our town which would eventually lead us home, stopping off for a few drinks at each and collecting more and more friends as the night progressed, until I'd have 10 pints of Guinness under my belt, and would more often than not end up back at a friend's house for yet more drinking, coupled often with guitar playing and singing on my behalf, ridiculously complex and deep conversation with friends or friends of friends, and dancing until could no longer wear my shoes... then once the light was forming in the sky (it gets light very early in the UK in the Summertime) we would eventually trudge on home, normally I would end up falling in bramble-bushes and skunning my knees and tearing my stockings trying to walk home through the fields and over the farm fences.

The next day photos would appear on various friends' Facebook pages or I'd receive photo-messages and we'd laugh and recollect the revelry we'd indulged in the night before. Normally, sporting some semblance of a hang-over (though to be fair, I rarely get a "classic" hang-over, more just feel tired all day - whereas my partner used to get wretched hang-overs and he'd resemble a bear with a sore head) we'd end up having to resort to returning to the pub in order to try and remedy the hangover with the proverbial hair of the dog. Midday drinks would lead into a mid-afternoon gathering or barbecue at ours, which would then lead everyone back to one of our locals, only to repeat the previous night's proceedings. And it was not even uncommon to repeat the practice again on a Sunday.

Tonight, I indulged in 3 glasses of wine. It's the most I've drunk in over a year, and even then, by the end of the 3rd glass I felt like it was enough. Whilst I spent the night in, it was still relatively "social" (I touched base with my nearest and dearests over the phone), it was not even boring or uneventful (I sewed some pretty funky things, enjoyed a nice meal, had a relaxing bubble bath, and am about to go to bed feeling perfectly content!)

People sometimes seem to pity the life I lead now to some extent - feeling bad that I never go out, or get to drink these days, that I'm always home with the kids... But I feel no need for pity. I chose the life I'm leading now (or it chose me... or they ie. my children chose me) and I don't think the two lifestyles can really be compared. Both have their merits. Both enjoyable. However I feel I personally gain more by the current lifestyle I'm leading than the one where I gallavanted across the countryside with a bottle of beer in one hand and my high-heels in the other... Because to have that would mean I wouldn't have my kids. And they are my greatest achievement. The best thing I have ever, ever done in my life. And definitely worth the trade :)

"Positive Negatives" (not in the attitude sense, in the photography sense!)

One of dear friends (and blog follower) has asked me to blog some of my favourite photos I've edited recently... and I'm always one to please ;) hence here is a brief compendium of some of the photos I have edited in photoshop. All the photographs were taken by me (except for the last two, which were taken by my mother/shopped by me), and then edited. Please do not redistribute or use these photographs for your own purposes as I cherish both the images and the work that has been put into them :) they have been watermarked for this reason...

I'm excited this week as I've invested in a new camera!!! *SQUEEEEEE!* which should arrive by Friday of this week. So I shall be likely to share more images in the future also. These are just a few of what I've done so far...

"Enjoys playdough and long walks to the sandpit..."

My best friend and I were discussing the whole "dating, after kids, after a relationship that is no more" saga... My friend has just recently started dating again (after over 4 years of single motherhood) and was lucky enough to meet a really decent guy through her work. I'll admit, when you have a friend suddenly start seeing someone after a long time of believing they never would, it's a little bit relieving that we're (single mums) not all marked as "bad fruit" in the barrel.

However unless you're the type of mother who is able to bear to leave the kids with someone else (or be lucky enough to have someone willing enough to have them - especially when they are multiples) - how on earth do you even fathom the idea of meeting someone new after single parenting??? I quite honestly wouldn't know where to start.

Friends who don't even HAVE kids complain about how hard it is to meet a decent person these days. I hear stories of ridiculous internet dating scenarios gone awry and terrible (I have one friend who is a serial internet dater and honestly, the stories she tells, you can't write that shit!) and I don't find any appeal of it - I think it's a bit weird (each to their own, not bagging anyone who does internet date - but yeah... not for me). Then there's the "one night out = a thousand nights to follow in" friends. Too many friends I've seen get themselves wasted, sleep with someone, fall into a relationship (that they never even wanted with that person in the first place) then take 2, 5, 10 years to get out of it again... Or the friends whose friends have good intentions, set them up with a "mutual friend" - until things stuff up and then someone ends up losing either all the friends, or everyone becomes all awkward at future barbecues! And this is without even dragging kids into the scenario.

If you're a worker, then yes your opportunities to meet people is increased slightly - depending on the workplace and the nature of the job. Me personally - I'll be a nurse by the time my kids are starting kindergarten - a very female dominated occupation, and the likelihood of the types of men you'd meet on the job would most probably be ones who have

- be a male nurse (who, 9 times out of 10, you're wasting your time - you don't have the right "junk"!)

- be a doctor, whose lovely wife and lovely children and lovely home are something you'd never compete with - no matter how lovely you are at anything you may be lovely at!

- been in a Saturday night drunken brawl and need you to suture their face before they spew on your shoes

- be mentally disturbed and emotionally defunct and in need of a straight jacket and/or lithium

- only be their to suppor their wife/partner/girlfriend or whatever whilst they are having their child (hitting on a labouring woman's partner whilst in the delivery suite = probably NOT a good move!)

or

- have something contagious and nasty (at best) or be dying of some horrible terminal illness (at worst)!

Soooo... my own personal chosen career-path is perhaps not the most socially appropriate meeting ground. There's also the ethics / work-college politics etc. involved with seeing someone at work (and moreso, what happens when you stop seeing someone from work)... So personally, I've done the "see someone from work" thing and I don't think I'd be drawn to that idea again. And that's even when I am working. Right now, I'm not - I'm on deferred study-leave...

So how else do other single mums meet people? And most importantly - how on earth do you find someone that you can trust with your most prized possessions a.k.a YOUR CHILDREN??? You can't just leave your kids with their noses pressed up against a pub window whilst you quickly ask a bloke 10 screening questions, then hide them under the pile of laundry when you get back to your place! And trusting someone to be around you children can't be an instantaneous process.

To me, it would take a long, long, looooooooong time to trust someone with my children. You can't be too cautious. Because if you were, how would you feel if something bad happened to them because of your judgement? Especially when, just through being a single mum alone, some men perceive it as neon sign above your head signalling you're a "sure thing"... "must be easy"... "clearly puts out"... based on the fact that you're raising children alone (this is of course not the case with all men, but you can't say there aren't these predatory types / user types out there. There are. Fact.)

In my average day - I have what I would consider "human contact" with 5 or less people besides my children: my best friend (on the phone), my mother and/or father (on the phone, maybe once or twice a week in person), the lady who works at the post office, whoever happens to serve us on the check-out at the supermarket that day, and on Mondays and Thursdays - my childcare lady. Anyone else we happen to see is someone we already know, and in passing... And further to that, see I mentioned "we see"... not I see. "We". My kids are always there. Therefore the time required (even if I did meet someone with intention to get to know them) is impeded by their constant presence.

Whilst I'm not even considering a relationship right now, or nor can I forsee wanting to any time in the near future (I have far too much other crap going on and far too much that still needs to be done) it does make me wonder what on earth will happen when I decide I am... And who on earth it could be with. And always, always be scared in the back of my mind that the person I chose. Pretty daunting, really... Oh well. Cross that bridge when I come to it - as always, just food for thought! :)

Child: No Instructions Included - Try Not to F*** it Up!

Some days (well, more often than not, some nights), as I'm sure many parents all around the planet do, I lose sleep over worrying for my children.

I have these precious gifts - so vulnerable and malleable - and I worry that I might (excuse the obscenity) f*** them up... Deep in the night is when my self-doubt sometimes kicks in. Whilst I know well and truly that all their basic needs are being met, I worry that sometimes I might unintentionally hurt them (not in a physical sense - in an emotional sense).

I worry that on busy days, they may sometimes feel rejected. I worry about them one day being angry at me for being their only parent. I worry about what vibes and messages and behaviours I am giving out to them when I'm having a shit, shit day - that they could be hurt by a tense tone in my voice or a shorter level of patience than normal.

I worry also about what I'm going to make of our lives - where I'm going to take us, what kind of a life we will lead, what people we will have around us, what they'll gain from each of these factors and whether or not they will be 'happy'... and thus grow up to become good people.

It is in the still of night whilst they are both sleeping soundly that, when I am feeling insecure like this, I want to scoop them up and just hold them. I wish I could promise them the world will always be kind, that they'll never hurt, and that everything will always be ok - even though I know myself that isn't true. There will be shit times ahead. We will have arguments when they're older. They probably will tell me they hate me at some stage for some reason or another!

Though no matter how hard I am sometimes finding it in keeping it all together, there are three things I promise myself I do not do:

1. I never name-call. I don't use put-downs with my children. If they are being naughty, yes, I'll point out the negative behaviour (ie. "That was naughty!") - but I refuse to belittle my children by calling them stupid, dumb, etc. and definitely don't call them any names...
2. I never scream at them. I'll occasionally call out to Tyler across the room to get down from that bookcase, or leave the bloody phone alone, but I do not scream or bellow at them.
3. I never cry infront of them. Even as tiny babies, if I needed to cry I would leave the room to cry. I can't bring myself to let my children see me cry. Not because I see it as a sign of weakness - I need to cry sometimes and that's perfectly normal and perfectly okay! But because that instinct inside me is always there to protect my children from seeing it, from seeing me hurt (and thus commences the cycle then of nights like this - I have a shit day, without being able to cry about it, then finally the kids are asleep, I cry, then I worry, lose sleep, get tired, and set myself up for a shit day again the next day!)

Sometimes when you're doing it on your own, you find it hard to muster up the faith in yourself that you are doing a good job. When you don't have someone reinforcing their admiration of all the stuff you do well, you can get hung up on the stuff you don't do so well.

So my advice / purpose for sharing this: if you know another parent who you think could do with being reminded of the fact they are doing a good job for their kids, let them know (I'm not fishing for compliments here - I do not mean me!) Point out to a hard-working mother or father that you admire their efforts, that they're doing a great job... because it may have been a while since someone told them, and it could be just what they're needing to hear, and might be just that little thing they need to help them get through that day (or sleep that night!)

If that was all I got...

I saw a cause that got me thinking this week. As I am spending my days working through what seems like endless amounts of laundry - the majority being kids clothes - and stepping on a plethora of toys as I try and walk through the lounge room to the loo at night, I've become gradually very overwhelmed with the sheer multitude of stuff I have in my house.

And then I found this cause. And did it shake shit into perspective for me even more (moreso than when I watched the SBS show "Go Back to Where You Came From" and burst into tears when I saw the little boy pulling an empty water bottle with wheels on it along like a toy car!)

A girl called Emma-Leigh is collecting and making up Mum and Bub Packs for the FreMo Medical Clinic in Nairobi. This medical clinic is run by two dedicated brothers and a band of volunteers whose aim is to bring affordable quality health care to the disenfranchised and dispossessed peoples in the slums of Nairobi. She is asking for donations of the following (any/all):

1x 000 Singlet

1x Newborn Socks

1x Newborn Beanie / Bonnet

1x 000 Jumpsuit - shortie or long (or both!)

1x Flannel Bunny Rug

1x cake of Baby Soap

1x Face Washer

Washable Breastfeeding pads

Washable Sanitary pads (see pattern below if feeling adventurous!)

1x Small soft toy

to make up into packs to distribute at the medical centre in Nairobi...

I read through and thought "Wow... They are not really asking for much, are they?"... The items listed are very basic, simple items... Hardly like the average list you see on a Baby Shower's gift registry these days for state of the art baby monitors, or nappy-wrapping machines! These are simple, simple basics... And what's more - the nappies and sanitary items are sustainable items, which can continued to be used.

Considering the insane amount of nappies, clothing, toys etc. I see littered around my house, I think I can certainly spare to donate a pack, and hope some of you may too... Hence I'm sharing the cause here in the hope that you might decide to send a pack to Emma-Leigh too, or share this with more of your friends.

Emma-Leigh has an event with more details on Facebook: "Mum & Bub Packs Event"

and some images / further information on the medical centre as well as the Mum & Bub pack donation drive can be read here: Darlings Downunder Blog

Parental Mentionitis

You know when you were, say, thirteen - and totally in love with some boy at school / the skating rink / the Blue Light Disco, and you'd never come straight out and say that you fancied that said person, instead you'd get a case of "mentionitis"? Where you'd find an opportunity to name drop them into everyday ordinary conversation at any given opportunity... Your mum would ask you if you wanted peas with dinner and you'd yearnfully sigh "Jake Coleman likes peas..." or you'd be discussing how a particular sad boy in your grade always accidentally farted in maths class, and you'd cheerfully pipe up "You know who DOESN'T fart... TOM doesn't fart"...

Whilst gone are the days of mentionitis (to some extent - however I do notice it a trend in adulthood when people having affairs - but that's a different topic altogether!) of people we adore on a romantic level, I do notice a growing trend of what I coin "parental mentionitis".

Once we have our children, they of course become our world. We live and breath through them and of course - every parent's own child (or children) is/are the apple of their eye. Through social platforms like Facebook, or at playgroups, during telephone conversations with friends, we like to share our children's development, milestones, achievements and acts of hilarity and humility... Yet a pattern I've noticed we can get into as parents is "matching" one parent's declaration of their child's achievements with one of our own. So often someone will say something about their child, and instantly we fling back at them something equal (or sometimes, "better") about our own child(ren).

This is where I consider it to be a form of involuntary parental mentionitis. We don't do it in an endeavour to shadow over our friends' or acquaintances' children... it just becomes a force of habit that when Sarah tells us how "little Billy has started eating 3 whole weetbix for breakfast", we automatically - rather than acknowledging Sarah's pride for her child - go off onto our own unintentional bragging about how our own child can eat 6 in one sitting (and in many cases, then continue to go on about our own child 'til the proverbial cows come home!)

Whilst it's one thing to share our experiences and gain advice and knowledge from our mother-peers, it's another to haphazardly overbear another parent with our interest in our own child and come across as ignoring the main thing they were trying to share with us in the first place... I think pondering over this notion has made me realise how I think I need to start being a bit more receptive to what my friends are sharing with me, and better acknowledge what they have chosen to say. That's something I'm going to aim to improve upon anyhow - and rather wait for a moment to ping-pong an anecdote about my own child back at them, really take the time to share their moment of pride and leave it be... Just some food for thought ;)

I get nervous under a watchful eye...

When one (or both - though seldom do they crack it in sync) of my children are having a "bad day/night" I find alone, in the comfort of my home, without any spectators, I can deal with the tantrum / screaming fit / distress my child is experiencing confidently. I don't get too phased if the hissy-fit is loud and drawn out, and tend to find that it seldom happens to be as such anyway - that the child resolves their "gripe" within not too long a timescale.

However I'm starting to think that my babies can sense when their outburst is being witnessed by more than just their mother. I'm not accusing them of "acting out" more when there's someone else witnessing it, however I do think my ability to cope with the situation becomes impaired when I have someone elses' eyes on me at the time. I get far more uptight, feel more helpless, and am far less patient and tolerant when they act up infront of another person (or people).

I am sure we have all, as parents, had those moments. The moments where your toddler is being so ridiculously naughty that you want to sink into a hole and disappear. Or where your infant is screaming blue murder and you can just feel the pity burning into you through someone elses gaze. I don't think I can be the only one who almost gets stage-fright of having to deal with a negative behaviour coming from my child - it's like you're being critiqued on your parenting abilities - and if the child doesn't comply (maybe I'm the only one?) you feel like a slight failure. Kind of embarrassed. Kind of ill-equipped.

Last night I had an unexpectedly upset baby, and an equally unexpected visitor. I physically became so tight and wound up -the tension in my body was intense! I felt like my visitor would be grading me on how well I coped with my screaming daughter and hence didn't naturally respond to her as I would had I been home alone.

What I've learnt from this experience (it was a new one to me to be fair - it's not often I have a bystander around when my children do "lose it") - I need to be kinder on myself and not assume I am being judged or feeling paranoid about my mothering skills. I know I am a good mother - my children are a testament of such. Infact I'm a highly dedicated mother. However I need to grow to learn not to allow these unnecessary fears of what other people might be thinking (which is probably just what I'm imagining in my own head anyway and not what they're really thinking!) interfere with the actual job at hand.

Had I of dealt with the baby as though noone was watching, she quite possibly may have calmed herself down much sooner - rather than pick up on the tension I myself was so clearly carrying. I'm going to try to consciously remember this stance next time I find myself in a similar situation. And imagine the people observing me aren't marking my grade sheet - rather they're internally cheering me on... :)

Childhood Beliefs

As an adult, we have the pleasure of looking back at our childhood quirks - some of them downright weird, some of them endearing... When I consider the quirks or strange beliefs I had as I child, it makes me wonder what wonderful, imaginative ideas my own children will come up with one day...

When I was a child:

• I believed everyone in the world had a "television", but that we had a "magic television" that could skip through the advertisements... when really, infact, most of the "TV" shows I was watching was actually on videos that my mum had recorded off the telly...
• I thought that different nationalities of people each had a separate "heaven" - and that world peace ultimately meant one day we'd all go to the same place when we died instead of separate ones...
• I had an unspoken guilt about wearing clothing made from polyester, as I thought it was perhaps from some type of small furry animal, sacrificed for the sake of my t-shirts...
• I used to pay a boy 5 cents in reception to sit behind me and pull my hair...
• I secretly wished to fall off the playground and break my arm - just so I got to have it in plaster and let people draw and write on it...
• I thought I wanted to be a lawyer when I grew up. And that I would have long, curly hair. And love wearing glasses and high heels... (none of which apply today!)
• I used to LOVE sucking water out of the facewasher. And I used to "serve" jugs of "beer" in the bath when having a bubble bath...
• I remember my child care centre carer telling me I was going to be a lamb for the nativity play, and getting upset after telling them I didn't want to be one, then changing my mind afterwards...
• I used to quietly utter "dear Emma" under my breath in the part where it was time to sing the name when singing "Happy Birthday" - regardless of whose birthday it was...
• I remember my parents trying to trick me into taking medicine by putting it in my milo...
• I remember thinking "Dances with Wolves" was literally just that... Like, ballroom dancing... but with wolves...
• I called myself "Emma Cake Broccoli Bell"...!

That's just a few I can think of tonight. Some of those things I can remember from a loooong long time ago (when I was maybe 3 years old)... To think Tyler is nearly 2... he too may start fabricating these strange and kooky ideas about his world only too soon!

Today is working against me, not with me...

This is a blatant rant. Rather than phone and annoy my mum / my best friend, I'm just going to have a quick whinge on here today. Please don't consider this to be a prolonged trend for the rest of my blog - I assure you it shan't. However some days, we have days like this:

First of all - it's been bucketing down today. It wasn't, of course, when I put the first two loads of washing on this morning... It was, however, the second I went to go outside to hang them out... So the dryer is going, turning my back-porch/laundry into a sweaty little cave smelling of cotton and fabric softener. And I can barely find a spare square foot on my lounge-room floor for all the woollens that are laying out to dry...! Christ I hate laundry. Makes me want to give all our clothes away and creatively fashion the kids into loin cloths or flap-flaps every day... kicking it Old School Style... (Old Testament Style, even??)

The oven shit itself today. Not only did it shit itself, it shit itself after I'd spent the morning kneading bread dough, and preparing an egg and bacon quiche. The bottom element of the oven has completely gone kaput... It's Sunday - my real estate agent is less than obliging to fix things from 10 months ago, let alone things that have happened, right now, on a Sunday. I managed to get the quiche cooked however instead of taking 30 minutes, it took 2 hours...

Maya has strayed from all her normal routine goodness today, which has further added to my frustrations. A child that normally naps 3-4 times a day, for generally a solid hour at a time, has only napped once today for two 30 minute intervals. She's tetchy, overtired, and perfectly fractious...

I wonder if the latter of the three things is actually dependent upon the first two things happening, and thus by frustrating and irritating me it's in turn making her a "moody moo", too.. Any parent will agree that if you're high strung, the kids tend to go nuts... If you're rushing about in a mad frantic hurry, your kids will take twice as long. If you're tired and just dying to go to bed yourself, they'll stretch out their own bedtime as loooooong as they can.

A non-parenting friend of mine once said (in reaction to my complaining about my child's temperament for that day) "children are their parents' emotional barometers"... Another statement of similar sentiment I read recently was "a mother is only as happy as her saddest child"...

So this afternoon - the laundry can go to heck. Tea's made and whilst it might be the same as lunch, it's done and it's easy... I'm going to spend the last 2 hours before Maya goes to bed giving her some good one-to-one love and happiness in the hope that we will both wind down, chill out, and both stop being so "prickly"... Some days, when we're having these days, I think you just have to resign that everything ISN'T going to go your way... and thus surrender to being lazy, snuggly, and loving of the kids instead...

An "Average" Day...

An "average" day, in our house, goes something like this:

7:00am - Tyler wakes up. Turns off his lamp, I change him, dress him, make him a bottle, and prepare him some breakfast and sit him up to eat it.

7:30am - Maya wakes up. She too gets changed, dressed, and has a bottle.

8:00am - Both kids dressed and happy - Tyler chills playing or watches some morning TV whilst Maya plays on the baby play mat. I take this opportunity to shower, dress, dry my hair (rarely do I also put on make up, but sometimes)

9:00am - Both kids tend to need to be changed again by this time. So we undress, change, redress.

9:30am - Pack the kids into the pram. Run around looking for everything we need to go out the house (takes longer than you'd expect)...

10:00am - We're out the house and on our way to the Post Office to check the mail, followed by the grocery store (Tyler has his morning yoghurt, I have a low-fat Iced Coffee or Chocolate Milk, Maya crashes out in the pram). Sometimes I'll also do my billpaying, banking, or peruse the local op-shops.

11:00am - We head back home. Tyler has some fruit and we play indoors until his lunchtime.

12:00pm - Tyler has lunch, Maya wakes up for a feed / change. Tyler has his nappy change and proceeds to play and then lays on the couch whilst I play with Maya before it's time for his nap. Maya has a play with me for an hour.

1:00pm - Tyler goes down for his nap. Maya goes down for her nap. I have time to myself........ but not for long! I run around picking up toys, the clothes from the day/night before, do a load of dishes... Or if I'm feeling "selfish" - I might do a painting. Or sew something. Or even have a nap myself!

2:00pm - Tyler wakes up from his nap (normally when I'm maybe 1/2 way through the dishes). He gets up, the TV is off, we go outside for a play (weather permitting).

2:30pm - Maya wakes up. She wants another feed / change, Tyler has a snack, change... We all play until it's Maya's nap time again.

4:00pm - Maya's nap time. Tyler and I do something together like read books, build blocks, something relatively constructive yet not grandiose and loud. I also start making Tyler's tea.

5:30pm - Tyler's tea time... The telly is allowed back on at this stage. He sits up to eat his tea, and normally Maya wakes up for a feed about this time also.

6:00pm - Bath time. Both kids (and sometimes me, also) have a bath together. Occasionally I'll do Tyler on his own, followed by Maya soon afterwards. Though generally it's easier just to wash them both at the same time.

6:30pm - Nappies/pyjamas on the kids, evening television ("bedtime" shows) go on. Tyler watches "In the Night Garden".

7:00pm - Kids shows are over. Tyler sings the theme song to "Spicks & Specks" (Mummy's show!) then proceeds to turn on his lamp, and climb into bed. He takes a bottle and 2 dummies with him, and is asleep within 15-30 minutes. Once he is in bed, I feed Maya her last bottle for the night whilst attempting to watch my favourite show... She generally then has a bit of a babble and a cuddle with mummy, then too goes to bed about 8pm.

8:00pm - My turn to eat... talk to my friends / my mum / family etc... check my Facebook / Emails etc. Do another run around the house and "tidy"... put a load of washing on if I'm lucky (or at the very least, chuck them into a pile!) Do the remaining dishes from the day.

10:00pm - Go to bed (normally watching a TV show or DVD until about 11:00pm)

11:00pm - 7:00am - EVERYBODY (normally) SLEEPS!

That's it. Then repeat Mon-Fri. Saturdays and Sundays are a little bit different, as the shops aren't open or we catch up with friends, Tyler tends to go to his grandparents' on a Friday night leaving just me and Maya at home on the Saturday (and sometimes also the Sunday).

What adjectives does this routine tend to conjure up in your minds? Boring? Mundane? Organised? Structured? Chaotic?

I think the main things I can say about our days are:

- The fact the kids like routine is good. It makes them "predictable".

- On the contrary, the fact that they are so routine also means they are not FLEXIBLE...

- My day seldom leaves room for much adult human contact / social interaction (I tend to get the majority of such through the phone, Facebook, parenting forums, etc.) There are only so many times you can talk "poo poo" and "Upsy-Daisy" and read the same story about the little lost puppy in a day before you start to feel "itchy".

- The amount of time it takes to create the mess is not equal to the time it takes to deal with the mess created. (A friend stayed at our house recently, and decided to have a mid-afternoon kip on the couch. When he closed his eyes, the floor was spotless. When he opened them not too long afterwards, he exclaimed in disbelief of what had become of his surrounding "WHAT HAPPENED?!?"... Tyler had happened. In a matter of 20 minutes the house was torn apart by the "toddler tornado"!)

- Stay At Home parenting is, to some extent, nothing more than the movie "Groundhog Day"... just with children and lots of mess thrown in..!

Regardless, though, of how repetitive and child-oriented my days are, we do ok... It works for us "for now"... Whilst I struggle to keep on top of all the housework, etc. my kids are always getting everything they need - they are fed well, dressed well, have ample appropriate stimulation and play/learning time with their mother, they get to go on an outing every day, and they receive a tonne of hugs in the little gaps throughout... At the end of the day, they won't stay this young for long. Hopefully by the time they've grown to kindy/school age I'll have finally managed to learn how to well and truly get my shit together!

A Letter to My Children

Dear Tyler and Maya,

One day, you may by chance stumble upon this blog. I've decided to keep it in order to record our daily lives, to have something to reflect upon when the early years are past and I no longer find myself up to my elbows in nappies, bottles, dummies, stuffed toys, bunny rugs and bootees. I think I should start by telling you (and our blog audience) how each of you came into my life...

Tyler - you have been a cruisy, laid-back child since the very minute you were conceived. My pregnancy with you was easy - I was rarely ever sick, my hair and skin were healthy and shone, and I sported that lovely "pregnancy glow" throughout my pregnancy with you. Even my labour with you was "chilled'. The labour itself was all of just 3 hours - the nurses didn't believe me when I said I felt the need to push you out, stating there was no way I was ready to push - you'd not even started decending an hour earlier! And yet within moments of my calling for help, you came into this world sound asleep... The scared first time mother in me was frightened to high heaven that something was wrong. But the doctor and midwife assured me you were fine - your heart rate was perfect, you were breathing comfortably, you were just serenely, perfectly asleep.

Maya - you, on the otherhand, were a bit more troublesome for your mother. You were hard to carry (physically - you lay sideways across my stomach for 3/4 of the pregnancy) and made me sick to high heaven throughout it. Unlike your brother, who came into the world with ease and calm, you took an unexpected 23 and a half hours - the last stages of getting you out I screamed that I simply could not do it anymore... Your cord was wrapped around your neck, I was exhausted, and felt like I had no energy or strength left to finish what we together had started. With the last of everything I had in me, you were finally thrust into the welcoming doctor's arms.

If you asked me what I ate on the 9th of September, 2009 - or the 3rd of March, 2011 - I couldn't tell you. I honestly could not recall. However ask me a day after each of these dates - the 10th of September and the 4th of March - on each of your birthdays - I could recall not only what I ate, but what I wore, who I spoke to, what was on the television, the radio, what the weather was like... all these things have become ingrained in my memory as they make up the days which you two were born, and shall be forever preserved in my memory as the most momentous days of my life. To me, the two of you coming into my world are more memorable than anything else I can think of. I recall no two other days so vividly.

So that is how we became "us"... Our gorgeous little family. Me and my two babies... I tell you both every day (though words cannot express enough) how much I love you, how beautiful you are, and I am thankful for you both every day. Sometimes we may not do things too smoothly. Some days, we don't get everything done. Some days are pure chaos. Some days I am tired, you are tired, and we all just want to cry... However whether we're having a "good day" or a "bad day" - I'd rather be having all the days with you both, than none of them at all...

Love from your loving Mother... xoxo