Struggling

We've been struggling, this last month.

Put it this way - the other night I had 2.5 straight hours sleep, and I actually thought to myself when I woke up "wow - I feel refreshed"

Ability to cope - all time low.

Silent reflux has invaded our house... again. It feels like groundhog day, because we went through these same dramas with Skye, at around this same age.  So we're ticking things off our TRY THIS list, and see how we go.

The sad thing is, amongst all the not sleeping, the baby in pain, the constant questioning what I'm doing (and the accompanying "what am I doing wrong?" question that goes with it), I'm painfullly aware that I'm neglecting my firstborn, I'm snapping at her simply because she's an exuberant toddler.  I'm getting frustrated and irritated simply because she wants my attention.  I know this reflux thing will get easier as time goes by, but it doesn't stop me from feeling like I'm failing Skye on a very basic level.

Despite my resolution every day to be a better mama, exhaustion takes over and I'm frustrated and cranky all over again.


I’ve been saying “no” a lot these days…

“Mummy, can we go play outside?”
- “No bubba, mummys tired”

“Mummy, can we go play in the sandpit?”
- “not right now sweetheart, I'm busy”


 “Mummy, can we do some drawings?
- ”No Skye, mummy has to go get Koby”


Lately I’m finding it all too easy to let excuses get in the way. I’m. just. so. tired. I’m knackered actually. And I’m not in the mood, feeling a bit flat.

But you know what? She doesn’t understand that, and she deserves better.

I read a timely article the other day about not letting this precious toddler time escape us. About MAKING the time to play with our little ones, because its going to flash past us all too quick, and before you know it, you’ll have a school-kid on your hands. A kid who’s past that magical toddler stage, and on the way to becoming a big kid.  A big kid, who wants to do their own thing, and not necessarily play with YOU.



Right now, Skye thinks that daddy can do magic, and that’s pretty cool. She thinks that when mummy flips her hair over her face and makes growly noises, that’s hilarious. She thinks that mummy can fix everything, and I sure as hell dont want to throw that away.

So my goal in the coming weeks is to put some time aside for her every day.  I need to make a more conscious effort to get involved. To actually follow her lead and PLAY. To get down on the floor and be silly… pretending to be dinosaurs, crawling around like puppies, playing hide and seek, wearing silly hats and laughing together.


My house looks like a bomb went off, and the washing is piling up in every room – but you know what? Those things are no where near as important as having fun and bonding with my little girl.


No matter how sleep deprived and exhausted I feel, somebody always has a worse deal than we do.  So, Hil, time to suck it up and get on with it, and not waste the joy of her toddler years.

The return of sunny skies...

… metaphorically speaking


So I will be the first to admit that up until 3 weeks ago, I was remarkably blasé about kids getting sick. I mean – they all gotta get sick at some point right? Build up the immunity, grow nice and strong and all that.

Our brushes with coughs and colds up til then had been mild – a sniffly nose here and there, always gone in a day or two. I think after Skyes MMR vaccination she had a mild fever for a few days, but that was all.

So I was amazingly unprepared for when it all hit here.


Sick kids? Pffft… how hard could it be?

Now I know that lots of people have REAL problems out there, and I don’t want to get all “Woe is Me” here… but you know what?

WOE IS ME!

There are few miseries greater than a sick, miserable baby!


Koby’s illness quickly got worse, and another visit to the doctor confirmed Croup, along with an ear infection and a very red, inflamed (and probably sore) throat.


Armed with steroids, antibiotics and paracetamol, we settled in to wait it out. And wait, and wait.


And then either the antibiotics or the steroids game him a tummy ache… and it was hell on earth.


Seriously I felt like I was in a nightmare that would never end. Sleep deprivation on its own is torture, but sleep deprivation along with a baby who wakes every hour, wont feed, wont settle, grizzles non-stop and just wants to be constantly held, is well – umm, bloody hard work!


He was like that for nearly 2 weeks.  But on Saturday, the sun started to shine a little. Gradually the grizzling made way for smiles. The crying was replaced with giggling, and we rejoiced.By Sunday he was an absolute joy, and he gifted us with the most amazing smiles all day. I feel like he gave us a weeks worth of smiles in one day, it was just beautiful to see.

The sun is starting to shine again.

Sick...

So this week our household has been a hot mess of germs, fevers, ear infections, honking coughs and snot. Not to mention two very tired and cranky adults (and we’re also coughing up our lungs and feeling miserable too, but that’s irrelevant).

Amazingly I'm coping ok on just 2 hours sleep a night.

I shouldn’t complain I suppose, this is the first time that Skye (2.5) has ever been sick longer than a few days, and it’s the first time she’s actually felt quite ill. She didn’t get her first cold until she was well over the age of one.

Consequently, I’ve never had to contend with a sick little infant, never knew how exhausting and draining it was… until this week. Poor Koby started to cough like a barking seal on Monday, and as well as some low-grade fevers, also now has a horrible sounding rattle in his throat when he breathes. I took them both to the doc on Thursday – the verdict was that Koby has a general viral illness/cold and can only really give him paracetamol – great, we just have to wait it out. Poor Skye has a double whammy of not just the honking cough and runny nose, but also an ear infection in both ears to boot, and has to have her first ever dose of antibiotics.

Having two sick kids at once has made for a very trying week. My little Klingon baby has been stuck to me like chewing gum on the sole of your shoe – I have to be holding him, or in his direct field of vision, or there will be bloody hell to pay. And don’t even think about walking away from me mama!


 Despite all this, there have still been some good moments this week:


Big Adventures

Skye loves the Wiggles. She especially loves Jeff, and yelling out “Wake up Jeff!” whenever he falls asleep. So when we found out they were coming to town a few months ago, it was a no-brainer that we were going to go see them. A girlfriend organized the tickets so that we could all sit together (8 of us in total – 4 mums, 4 toddlers) and we even planned it that each of them would wear a wiggles “colour” so that we’d have the four mini-Wiggles. We also thought it would be heaps of fun to catch the train into the city, and make it an even bigger adventure for our little ones.


As the big day drew near, we started counting the sleeps. Unfortunately Skye was already sick by the time the big day rolled around - If it was anything BUT the Wiggles, we probably would have kept her home.

Typically on the day, everyone decided to sleep in, so it was a mad rush to get everyone bathed, dressed and out the door. Koby made our lives more complicated when he spewed in Skyes hair that morning (the perils of holding a baby whilst a toddler is sitting on your lap), so she had to have her hair washed and dried first. Because of all this, we missed the train that our friends were on! AARRGH! We caught the next one on our own and made it with heaps of time to spare.

The show was great! Skye sat with her mouth open, gaping in amazement for at least the first 5 minutes when the Wiggles came out in the Big Red Car. So cute. I was obsessed with taking photos of her reactions, hoping to capture some of her enthusiasm and wonder to show my husband when we got home. She really got into it for the first 45 mins, but then started to get a bit restless and played in the seats with her friends for the rest of the show. It’s a long time for a toddler to stay in the one spot.

After the show we got some lunch (although Skye wouldn’t eat much after chowing down on rice cakes all through the show) and then caught the train back home with our friends. The adventure wasn’t over though – a police incident at a station down the line meant that we had to get off a few stops later, board a bus, ride around on the bus to the next few train stations, and then get back on the train to get home.  All while trying to keep our over-tired and hyperactive toddlers under control - you should have seen the dirty looks we got from a couple of other frustrated commuters... I'm guessing that along with a delayed journey, they didn't appreciate having to listen to rowdy toddlers who were in desperate need of a nap!

And finally, one station before we were due to get off, Skye had a massive coughing fit, and puked up all the rice cakes she’d eaten during the show. Luckily mummy has quick reflexes and “caught” it all in my hands, while my friends scrambled for a nappy bag to dump it in, and hand me baby wipes to clean it all up… all while poor Skye was still gagging from coughing so much.



Ahh the joys – but my girl had a fantastic day, despite the yukky ending.




Instagram

Oh… my… I am so addicted to Instagram. I love connecting with my friends, and getting glimpses into the lives of other people, famous or not. I love the food photos, the kids, the pets, the sunsets, the rainbows, the self portraits…


In between dealing with feverish little bodies this week, I collapse on the couch and get my Instagram fix. I think it even might be taking over my Facebook addiction.

My user name is @hilh if you want to follow my feed



A new car


We upgrade our cars pretty regularly around here. My hubby has a slight… um… addiction when it comes to cars. We think he’s got to have had close to 30 cars in his driving life. I wish I was kidding. And he’s only 36 years old.

I haven’t kept a car longer than 18 months, in the whole 13 years we’ve been together. Not by my choice either.

Anyhoo – a few weeks ago we got another car – a 4WD, and its for me. And every time I get ready to go out somewhere, I stop and think “Oh yeah, I get to drive the new car!” Nice.


And no - its not a Big Red Car, I'll leave that to the multi-coloured, skivvy-clad men below:
 

Wishing all the mamas out there a BIG happy Mothers Day for tomorrow - you all do a great job, and deserve a day off! 

Or at least put your feet up and relax for a bit  :D

Mother-isms - things my mum taught me

If theres one thing I’ve learned from experience, its that you probably never FULLY appreciate your own mother, until you become a mother yourself.


Suddenly I’m having all these light-bulbs go off… these “aahaaaa!” moments. Suddenly I understand!


Please note: I mean no disrespect to the non-mums out there, what I’m trying to say is that although I loved, valued, respected and appreciated my mum all my life, until I became a mama myself, and went through all those sleepless nights, the illnesses, the toddler tantrums, the stress, the joys, the pride, the constant questioning of yourself if you’re “doing it right” etc – well, I now have a deeper level of appreciation. I suspect it will only increase as time goes by and I struggle to be a good parent during the upcoming difficult times, the school years, the teenage angst and rebellion, the constant “mums taxi and drop off service” that I’ll be providing etc for the next 20-odd years…

My own mum is a gem. She grew up in Belfast, Northern Ireland, and by all accounts was one tough cookie when she was a kid. As a mother, she has never been one to drag out that old line of “Just you wait til your father gets home”… No siree – my mum was more like “I’m dealing with this here and now!” Yep, mum was the disciplinarian at my house. And if I'd been naughty, when my dad came home from work we’d all sit at the dinner table and mum would tell dad how naughty I’d been. Then he’d sit there and say “Oh Hilary…” in such a tone of disappointment, and give me this look – honestly, it was worse than any punishment I ever got from mum LOL!! I was always more worried about disappointing my dad than any punishment my ma could dish out!


Mum loved trotting out those old familiar lines:

“You’re like a bull in a china shop!”


“Stop crying or I’ll give you something to really cry about!”


“My house, my rules! If you don’t like it, you know what to do”


“Finish your dinner, think about the starving children in Africa!”


And my own personal favourite, when mum got sick of that endless question, always spoken in that annoying, plaintive voice that kids have:


“Muuuum… whats for dinner?"


She would always reply “yim yams”.

I still, to this day, do not know what a ‘yim yam’ is.



But mums can also the bearers of some amazing wisdom…


There are some things that mums teach you from an early age that you carry with you all your life. Pearls of Wisdom.  Not all of them were good ones as I remember, and a few of them had to do with going out with boys and what you should and shouldn’t do… I wont share those little gems, but my mum does have a few very handy tips.


I bring you - Lessons from my mum:

Folding washing at the line


Ok this one is probably the most useful one of the lot. Just like my own mum, I detest ironing. Well I don’t actually know anyone who loves ironing, so I guess I’m not alone there. The lesson here is that you should always fold the dry clothes while you are at the washing line – that means it takes longer to bring the washing in because you have to fold each item as soon as you unpeg it, but honestly it saves you a ton of time later on by not having to sort, fold or iron.


I have expanded on this lesson too – I have a basket each for my husband and myself (I do kids clothes separately). So as I take an item off the line, if its mine it gets folded and goes straight into my basket. If its his, it gets folded and goes straight into his basket. Then when you bring it in it’s a very simple matter of putting the already folded clothes away in the wardrobes. Or in my case, I put hubbys in neat little piles on the bed – he can put his own clothes away!

Result = very little ironing required.

Unless you’re one of those people who likes to iron everything, including underwear. I know of one person like that!

Scrunch test before buying clothes


This one kinda goes hand in hand with the previous lesson – when you are standing in a clothes shop, thinking about buying an item of clothing – do the scrunch test on it.


I cant count the number of times that I’ve witnessed my own mum do this. Always done very inconspicuously of course – almost on the sly in case someone saw her doing it… she would grab a small handful of material, scrunch it in her fist and hold it for a few seconds (and casually look in the other direction as if she's daydreaming). When you let go, if the material is really badly wrinkled, step away from the clothes rack!


Hmmm, now that I think of it, I'm beginning to think my mum REAAALLY hated ironing!


(Apologies to anyone in clothing retail who might be slightly horrified at this destruction of your carefully displayed clothes! In my defense I’ve only done it a handful of times myself, cos I usually feel a bit guilty about doing it)


Tips for selling a house


So our last real estate agent scoffed at this, and I admit its quite a strange one. But seriously, my parents were the experts at buying and selling houses when I was a kid. Of course they never actually made any money doing it, but I think I lived in about 7 different houses when I was growing up, all houses that we bought, renovated and sold.

Mums theory was that you needed to get your home smelling nice and “homely” and she thought that nothing beat the smell of beef mince and onion cooking – so whenever a potential buyer was coming around, we would conveniently be having spaghetti bolognaise for dinner. All it took was for one person to say “Mmm, that smells nice!” for her to continue doing it!


Never discuss your political preferences in public – EVER


A good rule of thumb which I still practice today. I never discuss this with anyone other than my husband.



Roast Potatoes


The best “roast” potatoes are not actually roasted in the oven at all, they’re shallow fried in the fry pan, with lots of oil so they go all crispy crunchy on the outside, and all smooshy and soft on the inside– oooooh yum…




I wonder what pearls of wisdom I will pass on to my own children?

Mama fears

It was Easter Sunday: We had a lovely day, a visit from the Easter Bunny, an easter egg hunt, visit from the grandparents and then one of hubby’s mate over for dinner. It was a special day.

And then, in a moment of inattention, I hurt my bubba boy.

Koby was starting to get a little bit cranky and was almost due to go to bed for the night, so I decided that he needed his dummy to start to wind down. We have a couple of the same dummy, and the one I picked up was attached to a dummy chain so that it can be clipped to clothes.

Absentmindedly I grabbed a piece of his shirt and clipped it on… and then he screamed. And shrieked. And howled. And hyperventilated.


I didn’t just clip his shirt, I clipped his skin as well. 

Oh my poor little boy!

Have a look at that clamp in the photo - that sucker bites down HARD.

Hubby made light of it until he decided to clip his own chest to see what it felt like. Umm, yeah – ouch. I felt terrible, walking around the room and trying to hush and calm my shrieking infant. He had a small rising welt where the teeth had crushed his skin together.


After a couple of minutes I sat down and burst into tears, which was highly embarrassing seeing as how we had company and all.


“Mother of the Year!” I blurted out through my tears…

Slightly melodramatic, but I was caught up in the emotion of it all.


Koby calmed down shortly afterwards, into those gorgeous little hitching sobs that kids do once the real drama is over and they’re recovering just fine in mamas arms.


But I didn’t feel fine. I fell into a bit of a funk all night. Couldn’t sleep that night either. I lay in bed, hour after sleepless hour, and let my imagination run away from me. Thoughts of not being able to protect my children. Thoughts of scary things happening to them, imagining future hurts, future spills, future fears. How could I possibly protect them from all that, when it was possible for me to hurt them? Me – the one that loves them the most?


I went through a stage like this when Skye was a baby too, after THIS incident. Danger seems to be everywhere for a while, in every corner of the house, in every moment. Ordinary household objects become something to be feared. I found myself wandering around each room, looking for potential hazards.


For the moment I feel somewhat safe in the knowledge that they are still little, and still cling to me. I know where they are, every second of the day. They are safe here with me, at all times, rarely out of my sight. They cant open doors (yet), they don’t go anywhere without me knowing where they are or being with them.


But I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to let them go once they start kindy, or start school. How do you not worry? How do you put aside that constant fear that something could happen to them - my two precious creations?

And then it goes on – all too soon they will be older and want to sleep over at friends houses… They will want to be dropped off at the shopping centre with friends… Go to the movies… and don’t want their over-protective mama around.


At what point do you relax and let them spread their own wings? I know its necessary, I know its part of growing up. I guess its a gradual thing - this letting go -  but I really wonder how I'm going to be able to sleep at night in the years to come!

Some days its not easy

Sometimes its not easy to remember to make each day count.


Sometimes things get on top of you and you feel down… flat… low. You forget to make memories, and instead you plod, you mope. You get angry because the laundry isn’t getting done and the house is a bomb site, you yell at the toddler and get frustrated with the baby.


I’ve been struggling a little bit this last week. Mostly its to do with lack of sleep from Koby, he’s been a bit off, a little bit whiney, a little bit unsettled. The other night I put him to bed for the night at 7.30pm. Half an hour later he woke up, and that was it for two and a half hours… I ended up getting 15 more burps out of him… WTF?

Luckily there was no screaming, he just moaned & groaned and pulled his knees up to his chest constantly.


After an hour of burping him, I was getting frustrated. After 2 hours of burping him I was ready to cry. He finally went back to sleep at 10.30 and I crept into bed at 10.45… only to get up to him again at 11.15 *sigh*

Nights like that are rarities I must admit. But it’s draining. It’s frustrating. It makes you question every single thing you do.

When I’m tired, I get clumsy. In the last two weeks, I’ve taken two tumbles with Koby in my arms. The first time I slipped over in the kitchen, landed heavily on my knee and gave my abs a spectacular workout in holding onto bub. The second time was just a couple of days ago, I almost walked into a massive spider web, saw the spider a split second before I walked into him – jumped back and had one of those moments where the ground seemed to rise up to greet me. I literally bounced off the concrete, slamming my hand onto the ground, tore a nice little hole in my palm and grazed the skin. My hand actually vibrated for half an hour afterwards.

Luckily, both times Koby was absolutely fine, and had no idea anything even happened.


But despite feeling less than inspired this week, there have been some amazing moments too, without even going in search of them.

Things like when we went to the local playground and some bigger girls arrived, Skye introduced herself, plonked herself down in their group and made some new friends. Like how she now eats all her dinner, salad included, without being prompted – for a kid who for an entire year flatly refused to eat anything even resembling a veggie, that’s pretty amazing.

Things like Koby entertaining himself for 30 minutes on his own today… that’s big progress for my little “Klingon” baby. Or like how if he’s upset when someone else holds him, all I have to do is to pick him up and he instantly calms down – that’s so special and gives me the warm fuzzies!


So the upshot of all this is; even though its been a tough week, the little things, the special moments are there every day, as long as I remember to think about them.

This week I'm loving:

...smelling babies heads after a bath



Nothing smells quite like a little cherub, freshly emerged from a bath. I’ve been loving the “Burts Bees” Baby Bee product line – smells absolutely divine! I bought a little trial/gift pack a while back, and loved it so much that I logged onto the website and went crazy buying stuff. I even wash Kobys hair almost every day, just so I can continue to feed my addiction of smelling his head every day.

...comforting an upset bubba


All my life I’ve loved playing the “nurse” whenever people are sick or injured. I remember when I was a teenager, I’d go to parties and invariably a female friend would drink too much and end up sick in the toilet. I’d always be the one sitting in there with them, holding their hair back, patting their back and bringing them glasses of water. Also, I quite like looking at gory cuts, bloody wounds, and all things gross. I’m usually quite calm in a crisis too!


So when missy moo injures herself, there’s nothing I like better than to 'make it all better' for my little one until she feels better. So far, there’s been nothing more major than a split lip, or a grazed knee – nothing a Wiggles band aid and a cuddle with mama wont fix. Extra bonus for me is that my extremely exuberant toddler actually sits quietly for a few minutes, while I get to shower her with affection.






...building on my fitness

Ok so my fitness has fallen by the wayside lately – what little ‘spare’ time I have these days is dedicated to eating lunch, doing a quick clean up, or trying to relax with a chapter from a book for 10 mins before one or both kids wake up.


But fitness is still really important to me, and I feel a bit lost when I don’t do anything, so a couple of weeks ago I devised a plan. Some may call it a very laid-back plan, but a plan it is. I have started by doing just a little bit every day and build on it. My husband bought me some kettlebells for my birthday back in January so I thought it would be a good idea to incorporate those into my workouts.

So week 1 I started by doing 700 kettlebell swings (12kg) in a week, plus drink 2 litres of water per day. That’s it. No pressure. I can do the swings whenever suits – 100 swings per day is nothing and only takes a few minutes, and if I miss a day its no biggie because it’s a WEEKLY goal, not a daily one and I can do more on another day.

Week 2 was 700 swings, plus 60 crunches and 60 pushups.


Week 3 saw me doing 700 swings, 80 crunches, 80 pushups and 100 walking lunges.

Last week was week 4 and I planned on doing 700 swings, 80 crunches, 80 pushups, 150 walking lunges and 3km on the treadmill… lets juts say that week 4 got slightly derailed from Wednesday onwards, what with having hubby home, visitors, more social occasions, chocolate around the house and Koby being quite unsettled for a few days. Not concerned, we’ll just pick up where we left off and keep going.

I’m not sure how its going to go results-wise, because I’m not doing these exercises in a block (just doing little bits here and there so that I achieve the weekly goal, so I guess I’m not really getting my heart rate up for long) but I’m feeling better just for doing SOMETHING, and its getting me back into the habit again.


Last week I amused myself by doing walking lunges down to the letterbox and back, having acreage has its benefits :)

Living Deliberately

When I was in my final two years of high school, I had the most amazing English teacher. She inspired me at every single lesson, she helped make English my favourite subject. I’m not sure I can even describe WHY exactly she inspired us – all I know is that I strived to produce better work each and every week, in order to gain her approval and praise.

I looked forward to those English classes more than any other – I connected with it in a way that I didn’t with any other class. I was fired with imagination, I loved the language, the literature, the concepts. I remember that we studied books like “To Kill a Mockingbird”, and “Twelve Angry Men”. I don’t remember things I studied in any other class, but I remember some of my English lessons quite well. I know that a lot of us in that class felt the same way. 

Our teacher never played favourites, as long as we put in the work, we were all treated with the same level of respect.

Sometimes she would laugh and talk about how at home she would put on some classical music, turn the volume right up, and set about vacuuming her whole house to the strains of Vivaldi, or Beethoven at full volume. I could picture myself doing something like that (although at the time I would have been listening to The Cure, not classical music). She imparted valuable knowledge onto me, I learned so much. I respected her, and I could also relate to her – I guess that’s the mark of a great teacher.

One thing that has really stuck out in my memory from that final year, was when we studied the movie “Dead Poets Society”, I have always remembered this quote:

“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life, and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.”


Henry David Thoreau


I love the notion of “living deliberately”. Living with purpose. Lately I’ve been thinking about this quote a lot – this is how I want to live. Not simply putting one foot in front of the other. Not simply existing; paying the bills, doing housework, hanging out washing, marking time.

Of course I want to be the best mum that I can be. At the moment though, I sometimes feel like I’m drowning in the Sea of my ‘To-Do’ list. Having two little ones at home has its challenges of course, and its all to easy to feel overwhelmed, frustrated, and to feel like nothing is getting done. When the reality of course is that nothing is more important than nurturing and shaping my littlies so that they feel safe, secure and loved beyond measure.


I want to strive to make the most of each day. I want to give these kids the best damn childhood that anyone could wish for. That doesn’t mean that we’re going to spoil them with material things, but we are going to spoil them with LOVE. We’re going to spoil them with experiences, family camping trips, day trips to the beach, picnics in the backyard, cubby houses under the dining table. Dancing around together like mad things, just because its fun. Running around and being silly in the rain, not caring about getting mud on our clothes – just because. Wearing our “good” clothes around the house because it makes us feel nice - and not saving them for special occasions (and then growing out of them before we get to wear them).  Doing things because it makes us feel happy.

Also - saying “I love you” regularly… my own family were never very good at this (and still aren’t, sadly – even though I KNOW that we all love each other, we have never verbalized it) so I’m making up for that with my own children. They will never have to wonder if they are loved, or feel starved for cuddles or public displays of affection, they are hearing it, and experiencing it all the time - right now, every day.

When I look back on the memories of my childhood, the things that I remember most, the things that give me the warmest, fuzziest feelings, are the simple things. Things like helping dad wash the caravan when I was 5, the family camping holiday that always got rained out, so that we were all wet and cold but oh so happy.  The four of us travelling around in the caravan on our holidays, seeing the sights.  Or learning to play Canasta with my dad, and ending up always beating him.  Riding a spare mattress like a sled down the stairs, ending in a great laughing heap at the bottom.  Or the great Lego cities that my brother and I always built, using our imagination to create elaborate epic stories to go with them.

I dont care (or even remember) if we had the fanciest TV or not, or the best or worst house, or the nicest or daggiest car.  I remember the fun, happy times.


So what I’m trying to say is that I want to stop and smell the roses, to stop and consider how the simple, small things are what makes us happy – not more money, not the big, flashy, expensive, material things. Things like the first coffee of the morning. Having a great hair day or getting a good nights sleep. Little things like appreciating your husband for filling the petrol tank up for you (one of those jobs I HATE!), or giving your children random cuddles, just because they were standing there.  I am going to deliberately make an effort every day to make happy memories for me and my family.

I am all too familiar with stressing about the small stuff – I’ve spent the vast majority of my life doing it, and often it can sap you of energy and leave you feeling like a deflated balloon. So this is going to take a conscious effort on my part. But with practice, it will become as easy as breathing.

Take a look around now – there are SO many things to be grateful for!

Liebster Blog Award

So last week I received a lovely surprise from Francesca that she had nominated me for the Leibster Blog Award!  Thank you so much Francesca!

A little about The Leibster Award:

It is given to blogs with less than 200 followers and passed from Blogger to Blogger, each hand picked by the previous recipient.  (Liebster apparently means “favourite” or “dearest” in German.)

When one accepts the award they agree to:


Thank the person who gave them the award and link back to that person’s blog


Copy and paste the award to their blog


Reveal the next 5 blogs they have chosen to receive the award, commenting on their blog to break the happy news!


And lastly, hope the artists nominated will do the above and keep the award going by accepting and awarding “The Liebster Blog Award” to 5 special bloggers that they too would like to honor.

So here are my 5 blog picks:

• At home with Kristy: I have been following Kristy for quite a few years now, and I love reading about her growing her own vegetables (something I've tried and failed at numerous times!), raising her chooks and ducks, and transforming her backyard into something she had dreamed about for a long time... nothing like going achieving what you set out to!


• Life as I see it: Magda is a fellow fitness blogger that I've also been following for a few years. What I really love about Magda's blog is that she tells it how it is, the good and the bad, and I really appreciate her honesty, some days I can SOOO relate to those bad days!


• Kristin's blog:  I have worked with Kristin at IBO for the last couple of years, and naturally follow her blog too. Kristin always inspires me to try new things, both fitness and nutrition related, and its always good to catch up on what she’s been doing.


• Pips Adventures: Pip’s is another blog I enjoy reading – I have met Pip a couple of times now and reading her blog is like catching up with a friend to hear all the latest happenings.

• Lia Halsall's "I'm finally figuring it out" blog - Lia – a fitness blogger who has just been on a fabulous trip to New York, I love reading about travel (and fitness!)

The postman, toenails and a good book

This week I'm loving:


Anticipating the postman



Oh god I love the postman. Not the regular one who delivers the mundane letters, those dreaded bills in window-faced envelopes, no – I’m talking about the one that brings all the parcels and goodies from near and far. I love the anticipation that comes after buying something online, knowing that today could be the day. Is that sad?

It doesn't even have to be anything particularly exciting, I get all happy knowing that I've got some pre-loved baby clothes, or some doggy name tags coming.


I am an eBay addict. Enough said.


Painting her toenails



There comes a time in every little girls life when she wants to be just like mummy and do what mummy does. Personally, I never go without nail polish – fingers OR toes, so its no big thing to me, and its such a simple little gesture. Nothing makes Skye feel more like a “big girl” than painting her toenails. We do them in a very pale pink, and she’s very careful to sit still while I’m doing them, and afterwards too – because she doesn’t want to smudge them.  And then there is the delight in showing those cute little toenails to daddy when he gets home… all evening he gets “Look daddy! Look! Look at my toenails daddy!”.

Love making my baby girl feel all girly.

A Good book


Oh I rarely get much time to read these days, but I just love kicking back with a good book! These days I try to find at least 15 minutes each day to sit down and relax with a novel, to take myself away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life and give my batteries a brief recharge.

Reading a good story is like a balm for the soul, and when I don’t get to read for a few days I start to feel somewhat unfulfilled. I have a huge bookcase full of books, and I’ve read almost all of them. Most of them have been read over and over. My mum doesn’t understand this – to her, once you know the story, why would you want to read it again? You know what happens!

To me though, the whole point of reading and immersing yourself in a story is not to find out how the tale ends, but to lose yourself between the pages. When it’s a beautiful story and told well, I don’t actually read ‘words’ – my mind starts playing out the story as if I’m watching a movie. My imagination takes over and I know what each character looks like, I can visualise every minute detail. I can lose myself for hours in a book this way. I’ve spent whole days languishing in a book.


Reading a beloved book is like slipping between the sheets of a comfortable bed – relaxing, joyous, you can stretch out and look around and see things that you hadn’t noticed before, and lose yourself in other worlds.

I’ve just finished re-reading “The Other Boleyn Girl” by Philippa Gregory – absolutely delicious. The movie was good, the book is a thousand times better. I then spent 10 minutes standing in front of my bookcase, trying to decide which world I'm going to venture into next.  Decisions, decisions.

Sunday night thoughts - feeling lucky

Every day, I try to make sure that I remind myself just how lucky I am. I have a lovely home, a car, clothes to wear and food to eat, and I’m lucky enough to be able to stay home with my babies while my husband works.


The reason I try to remind myself of this, is because I’m a born-worrier, a natural pessimist, and I’m always fearful of something terrible happening that will burst my bubble.

Lately I’m especially grateful for the fact that I have two, happy, healthy, beautiful kids.

When I was pregnant with Koby, I lived in fear that something would go wrong, despite all the assurances that I was a very low-risk pregnancy, despite all the reassurances from various medical staff, nothing could take away my fear.

Although I REALLY disliked being pregnant, I’m super conscious of the fact that I’m lucky to be able to fall pregnant, especially with my PCOS. I know quite a few friends who have struggled, or are still struggling to fall pregnant, rounds of failed IVF etc, only to suffer multiple miscarriages and heartache.


One day I accidentally stumbled upon an online forum for parents dealing with the grief of stillbirth, and my heart absolutely broke reading those stories. I cannot imagine carrying a child all that time – some carrying full-term, only to lose them when they are born. The happiest day of your life turning into a nightmare. Spending the hours and days after the birth cuddling your baby who had passed away. I cant imagine having to go through that. The loss and grief, returning to a house that was expecting a baby, only to be confronted with an empty bassinette, empty car seat, empty pram…


I sat there reading, tears falling down my face, fearing something that like that might happen to us, my heart going out to these families dealing with the loss of their little angels.


It turned into a bit of a habit with me – reading those forums, and it consequently fed my fear of what might happen when Koby arrived. I went through all those worries that I’m sure all mums feel when pregnant, those days when bub doesn’t move as much as previously, and you wonder if everything is ok – to the point where you deliberately eat something sugary to see if that will spur some movement from the little munchkin inside the belly.

I just cant quite beat down the voice of the eternal pessimist that lives inside me.


Of course my fears were unfounded, and Koby was born healthy and perfect. But I’m very aware that I’m lucky, and I still count my lucky stars.


Its staggering to think that the rate of stillbirth is so high. 1 in 135 births in Australia. That’s 6 babies a day. That is massive. Sometimes the cause seems to be the umbilical cord wrapped around the babys neck, this gives me shivers because Koby’s cord was looped loosely around his neck. I’m sure that’s common, but it still makes you count your blessings.

And it really makes me realise that all life, no matter what obstacles are in our way, no matter what life throws at us, is absolutely the most precious thing imaginable. The love you feel for your children, your significant other, pets, your family, is the most important thing in the world – and I really feel that I must stop and smell the roses every single day. I must be thankful and grateful for every moment - not only just the smiles, the milestones and the cuddles, but also the temper tantrums, the nappy explosions, the sleepless nights... because some people just arent so lucky. 

 

My two precious little monkeys!

This week I am grateful for...

...Baby cuddles in an air-conditioned room…



Its been so hot and humid in the last few weeks, almost like summer has only just hit. The days have been long and steamy, making life uncomfortable for little bodies that just want to be held and cuddled.


In the evenings, I’ve been relishing stealing away with my little man to his dark, air-conditioned room, bundling him up in his “Wrap me up” sleeping bag, and cuddling and rocking him til he’s drowsy. Lately he’s been really holding on to his burps, sometimes still burping an hour and a half after his last feed – so I take him away from the noise and lights, away from his big sister during her “rowdy” part of the evening, and just pat, cuddle and sing Edelweiss to him til he’s settled. I don’t care how long it takes, its our special, secret time of day, just me and him.

 
 
 
...New shoes...



Skye had the great fortune to get TWO new pairs of shoes this week. And boy didn’t she love it! Shoe fetishes start early I guess. The first pair are a new pair of Crocs, in lilac, complete with Hello Kitty motif. Her last pair of Crocs have lasted almost a year – we were smart enough to buy a shoe size a little too large, which I must admit never deterred her or tripped her up in the slightest, despite her constant motion. She’s as sure-footed as a mountain goat and I think her life mantra should be “Why walk, when you can run, hop, jump or skip?”


Her new Crocs arrived in the mail while she was having a nap, so I unwrapped them and placed them on the coffee table, ready for her to find when she woke. True to form, as soon as she spotted them she grabbed them with a look of glee on her face, and innocently asked “Are these for me?”

Her new-shoe joy was complete a few days later when her beloved Auntie Nean delivered her an absolutely fabulous pair of Wellington Boots – her first pair! The novelty of these boots has yet to wear off, and she’s constantly clomping around the house in them. Even better, these boots have loops on either side so that she can easily pull them on herself… and so she does… oh my little girl is growing up too fast.

The last few days have been rainy, so I’m sure she’ll be wanting to go jump in muddy puddles in her new Wellys this weekend :)

...Fitting back into non-maternity clothes...

It seems to be taking somewhat longer after the second baby for the ol' body to bounce back to "normal".  Especially my hip bones.  But in the last few weeks I've been really happily surprised to fit back into some of my regular wardrobe.

Most days, especially when I'm staying home, I subscribe to the "wear whats comfortable to breastfeed in" rule - which I must admit, kinda limits your choice, especially in tops/shirts.  Even when you're going out and want to spruce yourself up a little bit, you still have to think about what you wear and whats going to make life easier for everyone.  I also must admit I'm very tired of still having to wear maternity pants, and I'm quite tired of feeling frumpy!

So to have my wardrobe choices expand every week is really quite lovely.  I stand in front of the mirror and do a happy dance, knowing that this is only the beginning.  And then I raid my entire wardrobe to find out what else fits now, and what else I still need to work towards. 

***************************************************************************

Time for me to go have a fabulous weekend with my family... and keep remembering to make each day count! 

A day at the park

This week we took a trip to the park to feed the ducks.  Like most kids, Skye delights in throwing them crusts of bread and watching them scoop it up and fight over the crumbs.  I hadn't planned too well for this trip though, so that morning saw me rummaging through the freezer for a couple of old bread rolls, and a frozen pita bread - certainly not a duck's idea of a gourmet feast, but at least it was something to offer them!

All morning we talked about feeding the ducks, and meeting up with Skye's friend Sofia.  She was excited... I asked her "What do duckies say?  Do they say 'quack quack'?"

"No mummy, duckies cant talk!!"

Hmmm, cant argue with that!

The park was almost empty when we arrived, despite it being a beautiful sunny day.  We slapped on some sunscreen and quickly got busy on the swings - the first stop for any visit to the park.

Next it was time to investigate the fort and slippery slides

Hmmm, so who's going to go first?

I love the look of absolute delight on kids faces as they approach the playground equipment, ready to draw their courage together and try everything the park has to offer.  I especially love watching them come off at the bottom of the slide, with that jumping-up-and-down toddler excitement, ready to run back up to do it all again.

Kids teach you to take enjoyment out of the simplest things.  Its a shame that we forget that when we get older.

After exploring the swings and the fort, it was time to go in search of the ducks.

Umprompted, the girls held hands, and set forth on their mission...

The ducks and birds sensed our purpose and started to fly in from all directions, much to the excitement of the girls.  Shouts of "DUCKIES!!"  and "BIRDIES!!" filled the air.  These ducks are well fed, but they seemed keen for their breakfast that day.

We found ourselves a shady spot and prepared to share the bread.  The girls gave us a few heart attacks when they ventured too close to the edge of the water I must admit!  They had a great time, but the ducks didn't seem too impressed with the stale pita bread. 

We encountered a VERY confident black swan, who came almost right up to the bank.  Poor Skye was a little slow in throwing some bread to the swan, and consequently got her fingers nipped for her trouble.  We had a few tears, but after about 30 seconds she was over it and calmly went back to throwing bread to the swan and ducks.

Thats my girl!

I remember once when I was a kid of a about 4 or 5 years old at a park, a big pelican decided to walk towards me.  It didn't run at me.  It didn't flap its wings at me.  It just calmly walked towards me.  I freaked out and ran screaming back to mum.  I was such a shy, nervous little girl.    So I love how my little girl is so fearless sometimes, but then other times freaks out over something so small.  A big black swan nipped my fingers?  No biggie.  A teeny-tiny spider runs accross the floor in front of me?  AAARRGGHHH MUMMY SPIDER!!!!!! LOL!

The finger-biting black swan.  Must have been hungry... he looks pretty determined.

Sadly the bread supply dwindled, so we moved on to have ourselves a little picnic.  The girls entertained by singing and squealing to each other.  I love how they can keep themselves amused with the simplest things.

Koby did what all self-respecting 11 weeks old should do at the park - he napped...

So big sister took advantage of her extra 20 minutes (the duration of Koby's naps when we're out and about) and headed back to the playground, to tackle THE BIG SLIPPERY SLIDE.

Skye has attempted to climb this slide quite a few times in the past, and whats stopped her has been her nervous mummy!  Her confidence in all things physical knows no bounds, I'm sure she thinks she can fly sometimes, so I have to reign it in constantly and remind her that she might get hurt, and stop her from throwing herself headfirst.

But she's a big bad TWO year old now, so I let her climb it with my hands hovering behind her back.  A couple of times I actually touched her back as she climbed and I was frowned at, silly mummy, I can do it myself!   After about 10 climbs without any slips, or any trouble at all really, I felt like I could breathe enough to let her climb on her own, and took a couple of photos:

And of course the best thing about this was the slide back down!

All in all, a successful day at the park!