Thursday, January 31, 2008

It's all happening

Tomorrow I will be braving the supermarket and spending way too much cashola on sugar and preservative laden non food and plasticky crap for A's birthday party.

And let's not forget the cake, the butterfly cake, the BUTTERFLY cake that miss A has been telling all and sundry about, the one she keeps gazing at as she excitedly pores over the Women's Weekly Kids Cake book yet again ("and for Daddy's birthday we'll make the one that looks like Daddy" , pointing at a cake eerily reminsicent of a rather wierd looking punk. Perfect for mr hissychick's 40th later this year. But I digress.)

E seems rather keen on celebrating her sister's birthday by blowing endless raspberries, much to her own and A's delight. Not to mention mine, as there is nothing quite so appealing as my delicious litle baby deliberately poking her tongue out and making a rather loud PPPPLLLLPPPP sound as cascades of drool escape from her chin and into the folds of her deliciously chubby neck.

Anyway. Preparations are in full swing and I am excited for my little big girl. She is so looking forward to her party and I hope that it meets her expectations. Which at three are simply for some forbidden treat foods, a play with her friends and a few pressies to unwrap. There's a lesson in that for us adults. Maybe.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Three years old

6:45 am this morning:
"Mummy, Daddy, wake up! I'm THREE!!!"

And so you are my darling miss A.

Happy Birthday sweetheart, may there be many more, celebrated with the same joy and enthusiasm and cake gobbling as you did today.

I love you tttthhhhhhiiiiisssss much. Times three of course.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

The eve of three

So A turns three tomorrow.

I must have blinked because somehow the seven celled embryo I viewed with awe on the TV screen prior to transfer almost four years ago has become a strong willed, clever and confident little girl in little more than an instant. And it's happening all over again. Before I know it E will be a toddler.

No time to ruminate and get all misty eyed just now....

Be back later internets, have birthday presents to wrap, cakes to bake and a party to prepare. And a frantic clean up to complete as my MIL arrives this evening.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Still here..

..just relaxing with the family over the Australia Day long weekend. If by relaxing you mean fretting about how to ensure that A's upcoming birthday party is a sugar fuelled frenzy that all the cool preschoolers will still be talking about in high school. Kidding. Sort of.

Anyway, just wanted to record for posterity how gorgeous it is to watch the two kidlets play together. In the bath E kicks her legs wildly whenever A claps boats together as we sing 'The Grand old Duke of York' (hissychick edition to make up for fact that I don't actually know the words, note to self: Google it). And today A was pushing E on the baby swing and they were giggling together in delight. Have some gorgeous shots which I may just post once I have the new site up and running.

What wasn't so gorgeous was having to retrieve A who was hanging onto her new slide BY HER FOOT because a certain bad mummy thought that it wouldn't hurt to leave an almost 3 year old by herself with her new swingset* for the thirty seconds it took to take a pee. No one was hurt, and thankfully Mr hissychick's 12 hour engineering masterpiece is still intact and an accident free zone. For now.

On that note I'm signing off as it's time to embrace some true Aussie spiriti and park my lazy, lazy butt on the couch for the evening.

Make snooze, not type.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Housework avoidance syndrome

I am irritated.

And I am really irritated that I am irritated.

For some reason today I feel premenstrual, although I don't think I should be. Not that I'd know given that my cycles are still out of whack, presumably thanks to a booby monster named E.

Anyway. I'm edgy, sick of my own company and wanting to do something, achieve, tick a task off a list. Anything.

I blame it on the need to do housework.

Housework is the scourge of a project oriented person because it is never complete. Nowadays it seems like I am expending far too much energy sweeping, dusting, vacuuming, only to have to start all over again as I move from one end of the house to the other over the course of a day or week. Because E is on the floor all the time we've had to step up the usual level of cleanliness, and to my horror it seems to me as if our carpet is a seething, teeming mass of dirt, fluff and worse still, endless strands of my very long hair (thanks Mr Dyson). I HATE it.

Truth be told, I think it's a bit of cabin fever. Before children I was not really a homebody, preferring to while away my daytime hours at work, shopping, visiting people...just simply out and about. With little children naturally comes more time at home and more time at home...you guessed it..equals more housework.

I am also very resentful of unpaid drudge work. I, like so many other before me have found it a huge shock to go from a well paid professional position to full time domestic labourer. However what I find even more amazing is that so many continue to do so without complaint.

Can you tell that we have, amongst other things, just given up our fortnightly cleaning service to make our budget stretch further so that I can...wait here it is...stay at home for a bit longer with the kids?

Bah humbug.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

I am who I am not. Um yeah.

I need distracting from my impending tanty at the way my breastfeeding beyond six months post is shaping up and- LOOK AWAY mr hissychick, i'm about to talk about feelings!*....

So here's a bit of fluff n stuff:

I am:
  • Thirty one years old (eek), but am certain my real age lies somewhere between fourteen and twenty one. That would explain the frequent 'who are these kids and why do they keep calling me mum?' moments that I have throughout the course of the day. Maybe.
  • Almost six feet tall. Yes, I was always one of, if not the tallest girl in the class. Always. And just so you know I am not from tall stock:- my Dad is 5'9", my Mum 5'4 1/2" and my sister about 5'7". Am beginning to have my suspicions about the milkman....
  • An introverted extrovert. Or an extroverted introvert? I think my natural state tends towards the quiet (stop laughing mr hissychick), but being tall means you are noticed. Whether you want to be or not. Being angry also helps- or hinders, depending on your point of view. Which is wrong unless it concurs with mine of course.
  • A procrastinating perfectionsist. Which means that unless I can do it perfectly I cannot be bothered doing it at all. It also means I am very good at making plans...and then making mr hissychick do all the grunt work.
I am not:
  • Appreciative of forwarded emails of the 'send this to ten people and a puppy gains it's wings' ilk. Nor the 'this happened to a friend of a friend- honest' kind. Or worse still the pseudospiritual ones that talk about 'what it means to be a woman/mum' and contain poorly paraphrased quotes from the Dalai Lama. Etc etc. Those who know and love me know better. Those who don't soon learn when I forward the same email back twenty times followed by an email containing close up photographs of my own spiritual guidance (ie a raised middle finger) totalling 20 MB in size because oops I forgot to compress.
  • Anywhere near as crazy as mr hissychick may care to hint at. Besides, he can talk.

Now it's your turn....

* it's up to you lot to work it out...unless your feed reader already gave the game away... And here it is: the earlier than anticipated arrival of my mother in law for A's birthday celebrations.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Tattletales and a booby monster meets meat

Tonight I gave E a chip sized piece of boiled chicken with her usual pureed dinner vegie combo (yes! she has suddenly started eating from a spoon! and someone in this house likes my cooking!).

You could hear the choir of angels singing the nanosecond flesh met tastebuds.

And yea verily, all was good. Finger licking good.

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

I am living with a tattletale. The instant mr hissychick walked in the door A told him:

"Mummy has been very naughty daddy. She 'sploded when she was cooking our dinner..and..and she said naughty words and I was scared and said please mummy stop".

Oh what fun to have a child, not yet three ("how many sleeps mummy?') with such an extensive vocabulary with which to condemn my inadequacies.

Mr hissy just looked at me, eyebrows raised.

Once we had the little dibber dobber out of earshot I explained that after running late from daycare I was trying to rush dinner preparations and managed to burn myself with some hot oil. Naturally I hollered and uttered an expletive. Then I had to calm little miss down, reassuring her that I was not angry at her while running my arm under some cold water to ease the pain.

I think I now understand why she calls me Homer. Asking to see my jelly belly this evening merely confirmed it.

***************
While I am at it, I am going to shamelessly plug mr hissychick's blog for this absolutely hilarious post on playing favourites. I am also hoping to elicit your sympathy because by reading it you may gain some insight into why I am the way I am.

Our poor children.


Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Conversations with A

Almost three year olds are endlessly fascinating, combining a heady mix of vastly improved vocabulary with a uniquely endearing take on the world. Some snippets of conversations with A today:

On her upcoming birthday:

"It's my birthday soon. When I was a baby, I turned one. Then I got bigger and turned two. But I'm older now, so I'll be three! Then 4, 5, 6, 7 and, and ...as old as daddy"

When playing shops this morning:

"Hello shop lady, I'd like to buy some milk for the cows on the farm, they're thirsty".

Upon finding out that we had to pick up mr hissychick who had missed his stop and ended up stranded at the next train station:

(To whole neighbourhood as we got in the car) "Daddy! DADDY! We're coming to save you! Hurry up Mummy, ley's get moving and grooving!"

Isn't it lovely to be able to post these thoughts, given that E went to sleep at 8pm and nary a peep has been heard since then?

*************
Thanks again for your input about my blog.

I think I will be going just that little bit more personal in terms of pics and details. Not enough to make you turn your head and look twice should I walk past you on the street...but enough for you to see just how gorgeous my kids are. Not that I am biased or anything.

I will also be jazzing up the site from a technical perspective. It's shocking that someone who used to work in IT could be so lazy in that department.

Most of all I do hope to improve my writing. It's funny, I've always been a science geeky girl and it's only recently that I have really discovered the sheer joy of writing. Being a perfectionist I want to ensure that whatever I post isn't merely a passable record for my children to enjoy in the future, but engaging to my readers as well.

Except for you mr hissychick...so that I can talk about you when you're not looking. Note to self: include the following key phrases in the title of any post that I don't want husband to read: 'let's talk about feelings', 'hissychick family foibles', 'should THAT be happening in my nether regions'...



Monday, January 21, 2008

Let's change topics shall we?

I promise...no more posts about sleep and lack thereof. For now*.

Time to start tackling that BFing post and updating the look of my blog.

One question I'd love to seek your opinion on dear readers (all 3 of you):

Is a blog which contains more personal information, ie names and in particular photos, of greater interest to you than one where the author retains a greater degree of anonymity?

Am uncertain as to whether to become more out there, or concentrate on honing my writing skills so that the material itself is more intriguing and of a higher calibre.

Either way, or both, I hope to make things a little bit more interesting in my corner of the blogosphere. Stay tuned.

*Things might..they just might be on the improve. But I won't say more lest I jinx myself.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

The sound of one mother falling asleep on the keyboard

Last night worst ever.
So tired no longer have coherent thoughts, only meaningless babble running through my head, interspersed with that dreadful Spanish flea song.

Screw the go with the flow hippy shit, it's time to clench one's behind and get into a dreaded routine. How positively boring and uptight, but anything has got to be better than this.

BBL internets. Have couch to lie on and grizzling baby to ignore.

I am a little Spanish flea
I am a little Spanish flea
da da da da da da
da da da da da da
daaaaaaaah
da da da da da da da


PS A reckons that I'm like Homer and mr hissychick is like grover. WTF is that supposed to mean?

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Save that dance

Why, oh why did I open my big fat mouth?

You guessed it folks. Last night was another shocker. Could not get A to sleep until 11, same time as E. Both A and E then tag teamed on the wake up calls.

Mr hissychick then had to deal with a tantruming, shouting wife this morning. And A was almost as bad, refusing to get dressed for her friend's birthday party. E naturally decided to join in on the fun and fuss whenever boob was offered.

Thankfully we are all intact, having survived the festive celebrations. And what a sugar and toy loaded spectacle that it was, worthy of it's own post (mr hissy?)

Anyway something has to give. The balance has swung too far towards the kids, and it's not sustainable. I simply cannot spend every waking and most non waking hours dealing with the little treasures. I need some space to do my own thing, besides a rushed ten minutes on a blog post here and there. Mr hissychick and I also desperately need to spend some time as just the two of us (um yeah, it would be nice to actually indulge in a few special cuddles sometime before 2010, stop laughing mr hissy).

I know we need to enforce bedtime...and this is the bit I dread...wake up time too. If only we weren't so sleep deprived.

Irony sucks, especially when you aren't using it in the correct context. Sigh.

(GO BACK TO SLEEP E, DAMMIT!!)

Friday, January 18, 2008

Heart in mouth, or why we need an open plan house

I have always suspected that A was physically strong* and an incident earlier this evening confirmed that I may just have a future Olympic weight lifter on my hands.

I was in the kitchen preparing dinner while keeping an eye on the girls who were playing in the living room via the dodgy early 80's buffet window thingo (yes that is the technical term I'm sure).

Sounds of laughter...check.
Chop the vegies.
A suddenly announces "I did it mummy!".
I look up to see my not quite three year old standing there and holding her seven month old sister in her arms.

Note that E is 9kg of booby baby, approximately half of her older sister's body weight. So this was a significant achievement. Ruined of course by my shriek of "Jesus gay!"** before I flew around the corner only to witness E dropped like a sack of potatoes before I could reach her.

Thankfully for miss E there was no obvious damage other than a bit of a shock. Don't you just love the tonka toughness of second kids?

A was quite distressed as she truly does love her sister and was only going for a cuddle. I tried to explain to her that only grown ups should pick up her sister, to which she replied

"But I'm getting bigger now Mum...I won't do it again, not send me to time out" (!!)

I think I need to lie down. Which isn't going to happen anytime soon as...you guessed it...miss E won't settle to sleep.

What a way to celebrate seven months for miss E.

* mr hissychick having been a 'roid raging schoolboy competitive weight lifter and all.

** my sincere apologies to those readers that take this rather unfortunate expression I've adopted as a blasphemy- but it truly is what flew out of my mouth at the time. And I wonder why A can swear like a wharfie.

It happened AGAIN....

..yes, E slept through for the second night in a row. And went down for a morning nap without fuss.

Is it too early to do a little victory dance?

Thursday, January 17, 2008

I've glimpsed heaven...

...and for a non believer it looks fantastic.

E slept for TWELVE HOURS last night, requiring only one resettle in the first hour and a dream feed. She has happily gone back to bed after being up for an hour.

A is still asleep after falling asleep at 11 last night- this was preceded by three hours of quiet singing, reading chatting-thanks to a daycare nap (we'll worry about the consequences later).

It may never happen again....but for a mum of two under three (just) to be able to sit here, fully dressed and enjoy toast and tea in peace at almost nine in the morning...priceless.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Press pause

Sometimes it would be so lovely to be able to press pause and simply savour the moment, drink in the amazingness of your children right this very instant. Because if there's one thing I can't help but notice about their burgeoning little personalities, it's blink and you have missed it. The particular quirk, the turn of phrase, the sound of their giggle, the play of emotion across their face.

At other times I simply want to press fast forward. Especially when the fiend pays a flying visit, wreaking havoc at a time when I so desperately want to go with the flow and be in the moment. This morning was a particularly nasty confidence crusher. Let's just say after a brown paper bag type ten minutes in which i thought I would try and let E* wind down to sleep, I then entered the room only to find that she had literally shat herself as she cried. And promptly threw up all over the bed myself, such was the swirl of panic and remorse that overtook me at the time.

Onward and upward.

A* is just awe inspiring at the moment, and I am truly privileged to be the mother of such an incredible individual. I know we all talk about how we start to see our children's personalities develop right from birth, but the stage she is currently at, it's just so....so obvious. Intense. So clear to see the kind of bright, intelligent, thoughtful and passionate human being that she is and will become.

Today she started what will be the first of two days per week of childcare, up from one day per week. After some initial reluctance she took it bravely in her stride, even getting excited once we turned up at the centre. A momentous event occurred before we even left the car. She asked me to look after her beloved Snugzeez as she didn't need to to take them with her anymore. I was utterly gobsmacked. These two security blankets had been with her all day, every day for the past almost twelve months of childcare. I asked if she was certain and she was resolutely clear.

Even so, I popped them into her backpack when she wasn't looking. Just in case.

Once inside she was raring to go outside for outdoor play, and made a beeline for the bigger kids area. It's clear that she wants to go into the bigger room, and she is just so ready for it, but we will have to wait until a space becomes available. I am hoping one will open up soon after her third birthday, as A not only wants but needs the formal preschool program. Not only is she brilliant with her numbers, she is now showing rapidly developing skills in recognising written words plus she has started drawing faces. My clever little monkey.

It was with heart in mouth that I proudly watched my girl blow me a confident kiss goodbye as she ran off to play with the older kids. I only hope that she has found the courage to voice her wants and needs in the care environment, as it is still perplexing to me that some of the carers haven't even heard her talk when she is so expressive and with such a rich vocabulary. On a basic level I do have my concerns about how she will handle toileting, as she wears undies without accident now, but still sticks exclusively to the potty.

I guess I will find out in another hour or so when we pick A up after E's nap. In the meantime I will have a little smile to myself about how A will cut you off mid sentence/explanation with a "I know, I know.....I KNOW", or will sometimes whinge and when I go to reprimand her will suddenly stop and say cheekily "I was only joking mummy". I'm in trouble.

She absolutely adores her little sister too, and is forever showering her with cuddles and making up ways to make her laugh, rolling all over the fall to encourage miss E to get on the move. I only hope that this beautiful relationship survives the teenage years.

E is blissfully sleeping as I type...simply because it is daytime and not night time of course. She shows all the signs of having a wickedly cheeky personality, as she spends so much of her awake time laughing at her sister. And her parents, especially whenever we are making a futile attempt or seven to get her to go to sleep before ten at night. She is winning on that score by the way, having spent most nights this week giggling and rolling all over the fall in front of the late evening telly, shaking her head from side to side in glee as her sleep deprived parents look at each other in bewilderment.

She still luuurrrves her boob and shows little interest in solids but is still stacking on the weight. It is quite obvious when she wants to feed now because she grabs at my top and makes funny little ohhh ohh sounds. We still prefer to breastfeed close to sleep time, as it is the surefire way to slow her down. Besides, when she is awake and up she is far too busy to feed, and will do that dreaded suck, suck pull off, wriggle around, latch back on, suck, suck pull off again routine that is so familiar and so infuriating to most mums breastfeeding 'older' bubs.

Everything within reach is of absolute fascination to her and must be mouthed immediately. Unless it's a baby toy, god forbid. The remote control is the most keenly sought after object at the moment so her father can have no doubts as to her paternity whatsoever. Such a determined little soul...

..And that is where I must leave you for now, as said girl seems to be stirring. Hopefully she will roll over for a few extra zzz's instead of cot induced concussion thanks to her new airwrap.

Either way, it's time to post and leave the internets alone for another day.

* Just so you know, from now on I will be using my children's initials in an attempt to spend more time documenting my thoughts and less time typying out pseudonyms. So A= cheeky monkey girl and E= the pixie monster. Mr hissychick will remain same. Unless I feel like calling him rude names.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Ennui

You have to love the French, they always seem to have an suitable word for which there is no appropriate English substitute.

Anyway.

I'm in one of those moods today, you know, where you are suffering from a complete lack of interest in anyone or anything.

Is it because the pixie monster continues her nightly wakings? Probably.

Is it because I am yet again being called away to wipe a pooey cheeky monkey bottom and clean up another potty full of excrement? It doesn't help.

Either way, this article is ringing true with me today. And I'm currently on maternity leave, so I don't even have an excuse.

Maybe I'm just a bad mother. Cheers to that.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Note to self: laugh, don't cry

So I rang my potential saviours at Tresillian today.
Yes, we sound like candidates for a stay with the next available time around mid Feb.
No, monkey girl cannot come along because she turns three while we're on the waiting list.

Sigh.

On a more positive note, my Mum, sister and niece came for a visit today and it was lovely to see all three girl children bond. Am fairly certain they will be ganging up on us women of the older generations as soon as the youngest two learn to speak in English. I suspect they have their own secret language already, but maybe I'm just paranoid.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

All that Yazz

The only way is up, baby, for you and me now...

Well I hope the lyrics of that dodgy 80's song are true because I sure as hell need to know that this little phase will pass.

Example of a typical night in the hissychick household:

5:30 ish: Dinner for cheeky monkey girl and solids refusal for the pixie. Bolted down food for me.

6 ish: Pixie's bath, playtime for Cheeky monkey

6:30: Mr hissychick arrives home. Bath for CMG, breastfeed for Pixie.

7ish: Bedtime for pixie. Put down awake to self settle with her snugzee after cuddles and a story. Storytime and cuddles for the monkey.

7:30 ish: Bedtime for monkey.

7:35 ish: Pixie carrying on like a pork chop. Attempt resettle for twenty minutes. Offer top up, burp and put in bed. Mr hissychick with monkey the whole time who is claiming that her sister annoys her and that she won't go to sleep. Ever.

8 ish: Give up resettling a shouting pixie and bring her out to the loungeroom, in the hope that this will allow the monkey to go to sleep. Pixie is happy and bright eyed, playing on the floor and not requiring our attention.

8:01 ish: Monkey will come out requesting a nappy change, even if it is just a wee. We change her and tell her to let mummy and daddy know if she needs to use the potty next time.

8:03ish: Back to bed.

8:15 ish. Attempt to put Pixie back to bed.

8:20 ish: Even though the pixie is only protesting the monkey is up, claiming we have to help her sister. Mr hissychick goes with the monkey and reassures her that mummy and daddy are looking after her sister, that she's not really upset. Stays with monkey while I attempt to resettle pixie.

9ish: give up resettling attempt and bring pixie back out to loungeroom where she happily plays, knowing full well her older sister needs to sleep because she is exhausted and keeps refusing to sleep/ asking for clean nappies, cuddles etc etc.

9:15 ish: Monkey still not asleep. Try to wait for tired signs from pixie. None are forthcoming. Get irritated about lack of time to oneself and watch some TV while ignoring playing baby.

9:30 ish: Attempt to put baby to bed as monkey is supposedly asleep. Baby protests, monkey is awake and up.

Rinse and repeat until 10:30 when I give up, take pixie into our bedroom, dream(ha!)feed her and put her in her cot. Mr hissychick convinces monkey to go to sleep. If I'm lucky, the pixie goes to sleep. If not...

Midnight: Pixie finally asleep after rocking and cuddling.

Anytime between 1:30 and 4: Pixie wakes. Mr hissychick attempts resettling and when that invariably fails I feed her.

6:15 am: Pixie wakes with mr hissychick's alarm.....

As you can see, we're not having fun yet. The kicker is that you have to follow up this nightly ritual with a full day with a non napping cheeky monkey girl and a randomly napping pixie(so the late bedtime has nothing to do with too much daysleep, in fact the opposite is true) . In other words, I don't get a single waking hour to myself (or sleeping ones really), nor do mr hissychick and i get any time together sans children.

Sigh. The kids' body clocks are officially out of whack and we need help to get things back on track. I know what we need to do, and if we were dealing with one wee one at once it wouldn't be too difficult to implement the necessary changes. But with two we definitely need to get out of the house and into the hands of Tresillian.

Now if only I hadn't rung the booking office just on 4:30, when unbeknownst to be they were closed. So it would appear that we plunge into the deep end of another night. And without the necessary alcohol to cope either....*

Dear readers inside the computer, do you have any ideas that might be of help?

* Yeah yeah, BF post six months post will happen one day. It's not advisable for me to be writing that one up now because I'll only get angry. Well even crankier than my normal operating level. Which is pretty damn cranky at the moment.

Sunday, January 06, 2008

Sleep, interrupted

The pixie monster has gotten progressively worse at sleeping. So much so that it usually takes us until 10 or 11 at night to get her to go to sleep. She then wakes again between 3 and 4, and is up to start the day anytime between 6 and 8. Getting her to nap is a saga and a half, and trying to change the feed before sleep pattern nigh on impossible. The amount of solids she will attempt is a joke.
It's been this way for longer than I care to admit.

My ECHN rang on Friday to confirm she was faxing through a referral to Tresillian, and stupid, stupid me told her that I'd rather try a day stay before a residential one. I don't know what I was thinking. Sleep deprivation obviously has far wider ranging effects than decreasing one's ability to form a coherent sentence or two.

She's a gorgeous girl, albeit somewhat of a potential sociopath. You should have seen the way she laughed with glee when mr hissychick killed a spider sometime around midnight the other night when she was up and partying as per usual.

Anyway I blame it on the French.

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

We all trouped off to see Hi5 yesterday, as much to my chagrin, cheeky monkey girl seems to have developed an obsession with this overly chirpy and none too educational kiddy dance act.

Anyway.

The performance was about what I expected, the sound quality was god awful-whoever was on the sound desk should be shot for the reverb was shocking- however CMG seemed to enjoy herself immensely.

It was the audience themselves who confirmed my fears about the quality of the act and the demographic it was aimed at (yes I can be an effete snob and especially so when I am sleep deprived, sue me). Luckily they also provided an immense source of entertainment.

Take for example the following phone conversation I overheard at interval time when I was busily breastfeeding the pixie monster in a desperate attempt to get her to have some sleep:

"Hi darl, yeah it's me. Show's Ok but there's no stuff to buy for little boys. Yeah I managed to get Jayden a green shirt but I had to get a purple cup, is that alright? Yeah they have a blue cape for sale but it's too faggy hey.."

Almost made the deliberate kick to the back of the head from said feral toddler worth it.

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

To be saved for next time:
  • The potty adventures of cheeky monkey girl. How many times do you have to stop on the side of the freeway when the urge hits? And what level of confectionery based bribery will it take to convince her to use the big toilet?
  • Surviving at home with two kids following mr hissychick's return to work. Boo hiss.
  • Breastfeeding beyond six months. I promise.....
Off for a caffeine hit. Totally unrelated to the pixie's inability to sleep of course.

Friday, January 04, 2008

Work in progress

Am currently working on a more serious piece about breastfeeding beyond six months (with actual research! and editing!).

In the meantime, two proud mummy moments:
  • The look of sheer delight on the pixie monster's face as she discovered the joy of sucking her own toes (my little fetishist...)
  • The way cheeky moneky girl, of her own volition, will not only take turns on the swings with her freinds but will actually push the swing while waiting. And she's not 3 until the end of the month. Would somebody get the Nobel Peace prize committee on the phone already?
Until next time I bid you a fond adieu.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Wild, wild times

As predicted our NYE celebrations were intense, so much so that we were all home and tucked up in bed by 10:30.

Oh crap, pixie monster waking up again, so I'll be lazy and point you to mr hissychick's summary of the night.

Back again when i can...