Two Point Five Kids

'til Kitsch do us part...

2012-02-16T19:07:00.000+08:00

Is anyone else here a hoarder? I am and so is Mr Point Five. This is NOT a good combination as neither one of us can bear to throw stuff out. His excuse is that it may be "useful" one day; things like decorative tins, those cloths that wipe your sunglasses, DVD cases, ANY piece of paper that looks official.......he says "keep it, it could come in handy one day".

This tub of electrical cables is a prime example of what MAY be useful at some point and we lug it from house to house with every move....

My excuse is that I can't bear to throw out anything sentimental such as these which are on my kitchen ledge looking down on me as I type....

See the dust on them??? I think there is a strand of cobweb between My Bunny's ears.

The glass bunny I got from a primary school friend for like my 10th birthday or something like that, the bronze cat I got from my ex-mother-in-law, the candle Im not sure where but I like it, I bought the mouse on a mushroom from a craft shop when I was little, the cat in the basket my mum gave to me at some point in my childhood, I cannot remember which boyfriend gave me the teddies and I have no idea where I got the mouse in the log but isnt he just precious???

Then there is the plain revolting which I like to think Mr Point Five holds all the cards to.

Such as this Cookie Jar.....

It plays "who let the dogs out" and "you ain't nothin' but a Hound Dog" when you open its mouth for a cookie and it is so gross BUT I am not allowed to throw it out on threat of divorce and it sits pride of place in my kitchen. Erghhh. The plus side of this awfulness is it is nearly impossible for G Man and Master J to sneak cookies from it without me hearing :)

THIS vase that my interior decoratively challenged husband bought in Hawaii and he insists it being on display in our home....

Again, I live under threats of life as a single mother if I destroy it. Isn't it totally kitsch and god-awful??

I did throw out a precious heirloom of my husbands when we moved house the first time and I am yet to live it down. It gets brought up on many an occasion and I wish I could say I am guilt ridden, but I'm not.

I'll explain.

It was one of those things you get in a $2 shop to play at a teen drinking game (hubby was in the army before he met me so I use to genre of "teen" loosely. Im sure this was well used into his early twenties). I can only describe it as a Russian Roulette thing where you all get roaringly drunk, stick a finger in and then press a button and one of you gets a random electric shock. A real immature boys thing of which I had never seen him use in our relationship before the packing of the house. I was positive he would get no further use of it, would not even miss it nor even realise it was gone to start with. So I ditched it.

O.M.G.

He noticed. Within 2 days of us unpacking at the new house. "Where is my electric buzzy drinking game thingy" he asks of me. "I want to show it to the guys at work". I feign ignorance, deny its existence, plead innocence, tell him it must be in storage until finally in the wee hours of the morning and him foraging through every single mother of a box in the bedroom with the lights blazing I confess.

O.M.G.

Needless to say I won't be doing that again. He was the personification of the offspring of a bear with a sore head mating with an elephant who never forgets and five years later, with accusing eyes when he is reminded of it, I still rue that day if only with a perfunctory eye-roll and a "Yes Dear, I'll never do that again"

Hmmm - maybe I can palm a $20 to the removalists for the next move to leave the bubble wrap off the Hawaii vase.

Now there's a thought.

How I met my husband - shh, its a secret.

2012-02-06T14:36:00.002+08:00

Mr Point Five will fall through the floor when he reads this post - all of his friends and family think we met at a "karaoke" night which is essentially the truth if you go definitively by the word "met". So he tells people this when we are asked and I wink and motion to a select few that I will tell my version of this truth when Nick is out of earshot. He gets so embarrassed by the words ONLINE DATING so shhhhh - mums the word OK?

I had just moved back to Perth from living with my now ex-husband in Ayers Rock and I had a cushy desk job for the first time ever (my prior life had been Restaurant Managing and anyone who has worked in hospitality knows you don't sit down. Ever.) So this new gig with my own office and computer was very cool and I wasted a lot of time with internet surfing for things like dinner menu's for one, cheap sunnies that you didnt have to go to Bali for and other random stuff. Speaking of random, my home page which was set by my employer (so really it was part of my job description to click on it), had a link to Lava Life which on one bored Wednesday afternoon when the boss had gone home I nonchalantly investigated. I needed to be pro-active, and not wind up pathetic and shagging some dude I met at the Desperate and Dateless ball, who lived next door to my Dads best mate who saw my car in the driveway one Sunday morning thus copping me a phone conversation from Dad that went in a sing song voice "bet I can tell you where you were last night....la la la laaaa la".

By knockoff time I had signed up, set up a profile (no picture) and was ready to be swept off my feet.

Bahahahahahahahaha.

So after sifting through absolutes twats like this guy....

I finally hooked myself a date - a real live, meet you in person DATE!

The first ~~disaster~~, date I met at the pub - I took a group of girlfriends and a copy of his picture so I would recognise him. We were sitting at a table and my girlfriend says to me, "is that him"???? pointing to a guy that was ~~a dead set ringer~~, ~~looked a little like~~, a 10 year older version of his picture. We sized him up for about 5 minutes, decided he had come with no mates and thought it could possibly be him. Great I thought. Awkward. Turns out he WAS 10 years older than his picture (and 8 years older than his profile birthdate), STILL lived with his mother, as in had NEVER moved out, and dressed like Chevy Chase in the 80's. After one drink I motioned for my friend (still watching with the gang, killing themselves laughing at my misfortune) to call me and I told him I had to go, family emergency. He texted me on the way home saying what a nice time he had had. Oh dear - DESPERATE.

My second date was scarily similar with the only difference being that he had previously moved out from his mothers house but had now moved back in because he was unemployed. At 42. Sigh.

Righto - third date.

This was Mr Point Fives profile picture - YUMMO!!! I thought too good to be true - it was probably taken at some wedding 5 years ago (he looked about 5 years younger than me) and he was going to be 10 years older and look all old and stuff. We got chatting and I noticed his online birthdate - he WAS 5 years younger than me!!! (actually, 5.5 - eeeek) and when we met he looked every bit as young and gorgeous as his photo, which was incidently taken at his best mates wedding the year before. After three weeks of cyber chatting, we arranged to meet on a Saturday afternoon at a pub for a drink. If we hit it off I was going to accompany him to a Karaoke night with his best mate and his wife for her "leaving work because I am pregnant" party. Long story short, I followed him to Karaoke that Saturday night (hence his story being vaguely true), fell in love with him the following night, broke up with him the day after (I got mega cold feet and panicked when I considered the age gap and my previous marriage baggage that I was bringing to the relationship blah blah blah), and was swept off my feet two days later by a very determined man who wouldn't take no for an answer. He stayed the night that night at my place and never moved out.

I proposed to him 7 months later and we were pregnant 2 months after that.

He is my love and my life, loves me for every woman I am inside and he isn't afraid to fight for what he wants. I adore him and cherish the story of how we met - even if I have to say it was at Karaoke - shhhhhh.

Housework won't kill you - but why take the chance?

2012-01-28T13:44:00.000+08:00

This sign should be on my front door.

I have a love-hate relationship about being a SAHM. I love that I get to witness all the little milestones that my kidlets achieve and I love that I get to cuddle and kiss them whenever I want. I love all the little giggles that I witness and cause, and I love the convenience of being at home with all my things about me.

I hate the fact that being a SAHM is not just that. It is also being a SAHC, a Stay At Home Cleaner, which I never really anticipated in its full extent nor really appreciated the unappreciated monotony of doing it every day.

Now for those who say "Isn't that what you wanted?" then yeeeeeessssss, I guess I did want to be a SAHM, but I imagined it to be very different. I thought I would indeed give Betty Crocker a run for her money and be baking cookies and cakes every day. I thought I would be lovingly preparing dinner for my husband every day and have my toes and fingers home manicured to perfection. I thought my children would be happily self entertained at the table , colouring in and playing with their toys, with the occasional loving acknowledgement from me about how nicely they were playing together.

What I didnt expect was a whirlwind of destruction that sweeps though my house on an hourly basis which totally negates ANY and ALL cleaning efforts made during the previous 24 hours. I didnt imagine how tired I would be, getting up at 6am each day whilst trying to maintain a healthy adult relationship with hubby in the evenings. I didnt imagine there would be no weekends. I certainly wasnt anticipating a intuitive baby who KNOWS when you are trying to stack the dishwasher, fold the laundry or tidy a bookcase and unravels your work as quickly as you have put it all back together. I didnt foresee spending countless hours trying to transform the bastard that is Optimus Prime, find Spidermans missing glove (no, hand socks wont do Mummy!) or Supermans cape so that G Man can play happily or exactly how many nappies Master J can produce when teething. I didnt realise exactly how far food can travel off a highchair and how quickly a newly mopped floor can turn into a sticky mess with the power of just one drippy icypole or a pop top discovered by the wrong child.

I totally didnt realise how lovely it is to just snuggle on the couch with G Man whilst Jax is napping (valuable housework time) so that we can just have Mummy/G Man time. Soooo beautiful.

I totally didnt imagine that hubby would see ALL the housework as mine to do. I honestly imagined that on his 2-4 days "off" from his work that I might get one too. He says "but honey, I DONT think that you should pick up my socks or put my beer bottles in the bin for me or stack the dishwasher every day". Really??? Who else is going to do it? The cleaning fairy?

Bahahahahahahahahahahaha haha ha ha ha ha ha.

Aherm.

I wish I had this

I envy people who have OCD. Contracting this the only way I can see my house being clean on a regular basis, and not just when we are expecting guests. I feel very guilty when people come visit who have OCD - I KNOW they are looking around, itching to clean up just that little bit more. These people are capable of being super parents AND super cleaners as well as everything else and should wear a medal every day. Oh and they probably do it all on five hours of sleep each night in their freshly laundered and ironed bedsheets.

Housework is the only thing that gives me penis envy.

and yes, I did search ebay for one of these when Master J started crawling.

Links like this - http://www.stayathomemum.net.au/tips-for-a-squeaky-clean-home/ - make me crack up laughing. Seriously, do these people have children? What is the point of having a squeaky clean house when it will be trashed in under 2 hours!

Blog posts like this - http://mymummydaze.blogspot.com/2012/01/8-tell-tale-signs-that-your-kids-have.html - crack me up in their total accuracy and make me feel so much better about my housework prowess. "Couches are just oversized hankies" Love it!!

After much soul searching I have simply decided that I am not cut out to be obsessively neat and tidy about my housework and not to let it stress me. Lets face it - a happy mummy makes a happy family. The floor gets vacuumed when the little bits on the floor drive me nuts stuck between my toes. Mopping happens when the slant of the sun catches just right and I notice the big dried sticky puddle of cordial. Actually I fib - thats when I spot mop with the baby wipes. Real mopping happens when I see a LOT of them and it becomes not so cost effective with the baby wipes to do the entire house. I wash the sheets when I notice they need doing and I fold the laundry when I can no longer get into the laundry (folding washing is one task that Master J has a BALL with and whilst adorable, he is not very conducive to efficiency in this department). Our house is a home - there is lots of love, laughter, kindness, gentleness, time spent on each other and enjoyment all round. There are fingerprints, crumbs and maybe a sticky cordial mark here or there that I haven't noticed between loving my kids or spending time with my husband. It is not pristine and if you don't give me enough notice on your intent to visit chances are you may be shocked.

Or it may just remind you of your place when nobody is looking :)

PS - thanks to My Mummy Daze for the laugh :)

Sexting is NOT OK.

2012-01-15T09:45:00.000+08:00

I have a confession. Its a bad one and I feel guilty. Very guilty.

Imagine this.

You're in bed with your lover. You are having a kiss and a cuddle and seeing "where it leads" (or in my case most of the time you fall asleep)

But in this case the hubby was on a promise so.....

Your receive a text. Things weren't yet beyond the point of no return. What do you do???

Do you ignore it? If you do, do you wonder about who it may be throughout the whole lovemaking process? Does it bother you that you don't know who it is? does it distract from your orgasm? does it drive you crazy?

So, do you just have a peek to see who it is from without reading the message? Does that make you feel better?...... knowing who it is from or do you still wonder what they are saying? Is it all you think about when you should be concentrating on the places your lovers hands are and where yours should be?

OK - so you read the message, very quickly, a skim read just so you know its not an emergency of some kind and that your advice isn't needed urgently and you can now relax in the sweet sensations of the bedroom.

Except you don't. In your mind you already have a reply brewing which you cant turn off in your head. Its a witty reply, one that if you don't get it out now you will forget it and then have to send a lame reply back after the now disappointing lovemaking because you cant concentrate.

So, very quickly, cheetah like if you must, you bang out a reply to the text from a girlfriend that really was utterly inconsequential and so could have waited til the next day but you feel better - relieved . You know that your friend isn't wondering where you are, if you are OK, if you haven't in the emergency room of the local hospital, that you aren't splattered all over the highway or even WORSE that maybe you are enjoying a beautiful lovemaking session with your husband. Well you were, before the bloody phone went off and you not only peeked but stopped all activity to reply. Kinda went a bit south after that.

Really should mute the damned thing before I embark on a promise.

If the hubby doesn't turf it in the bin beforehand - he nearly did last night.

My bad - told you. Definitely would NOT have done it the first time we made out so what makes it OK now, 5 years later?

Nothing - because it is SO not OK. Sorry Honey.

And Mish, thanks for not texting back - hate to think what would have happened then ;)

What would you do??

Linky Blog - Choose Five

2012-01-11T19:15:00.001+08:00

The Thing I'd Tell You has asked this question.....

In a fantasy world, forget about spouses and loves, if you could fall in love with {or be best friends with, I don't think it should all be about who you'd shag , so lets have some from both categories } a movie or tv character, name 5 you would choose. Not the actors but the movie characters. You have to tell us why.

Here is my answer :)

Number 1.

Westley - The Princess Bride

Oh My how I swooned as a teenage girl watching this! Westley is dashing, heroic, totally gorgeous, leaps tall cliffs (of insanity) in a single bound and has the comic genius to rival John Cleese. Whats not to love and shag senseless in the barn (fetch me that pitcher) or on the Pirate ship? As you wish? Do I ever!!!

Number 2.

Navarre - Ladyhawke

Navarre is the thinking woman's man - he is a gentleman and a hero. He is stoic and will search the ends of the world to undo the spell that will bring Isabeau back to him. The end scene where he see's her face and then the look on his and he lifts her up so high and she throws her arms back in abandon - sigh. If you haven't seen this movie, do so - I just adore it. Matthew Broderick is an added bonus as an escaped convict (so cute, young and funny) and Michelle Pfeiffer is breathtaking.

Number 3.

Jax Teller - Sons of Anarchy

Here is the Bad Boy of my bunch - Jax is an outlaw motorcycle club member who has the body (including the buns) of steel. He will do absolutely ANYthing to protect his family and if the way a man treats his mother is any gauge to how he will be as a husband you just want to snap this specimen right up! If you have to ask if that's a gun in his pocket then you're with the wrong man - he always has his piece with him.

(please dont hold it against me that I actually named my second born son after this beautiful creature)

Number 4.

Risque: Kelly Van Ryan - Wild Things

Probably guilty of over-sharing but whilst I am happily hetro-married and am well satisfied on my side of the fence, I would totally love just one night with Denise Richards on the set of Wild Things. Neve Campbell is a lucky girl.

Number 5.

Best Friend: Diana Berry - Anne of Green Gables

I always dreamt that I was Anne and my BFF in high school (you know who you are , reading this) was Diana. I had my own "Bosum Buddy" who was my kindred spirit and would lie in the middle of the school oval with me and discuss boys (real and Michael J Fox types) when we should have been doing cross country. I will treasure her forever.

The best perk of Kindy

2012-01-04T15:00:00.000+08:00

I have to admit, I am so very nervous about G Man starting Kindy next month. He has never spent a single day in day care and I have been witness to all his milestones, big and small, thus far. I am already envious of his teacher who will probably get to see him form his first letters and hear him say so many new words for the first time, except she won't know him and won't know they are new. I don't want to even THINK about all the little milestones that will go unnoticed full-stop due to so many kids achieving at the same time - breaks my heart to even bear it thought :(

I worry he will be teased, that he will be unhappy, that he will miss me, that he won't miss me enough and all the things inbetween. I want so very much for him but that requires letting him go - to have fun with other kids and learn how to fit in, how to be generous in spirit but I know he will see firsthand how cruel kids can be. I want him to learn all about the big world about him and how to be the best man possible when he grows up but I worry nonetheless.

I will miss him around the house, his little smile, his questions, getting him drinks and listening to the happy icypole slurps after lunch. His little brother will miss him terribly as well BUT I cant wait to see his happy smiling face when I collect him each day at the school gate - it will make my day (and his brothers) three days a week.

BUT, there is a ~~silver~~, ~~gold~~, platinum lining to the cloud that is my big baby boy leaving me next month....

Afternoon SEX.

Mister Point Five and I have not had an afternoon romp since March 8th 2010. I know this date because it was G Mans second birthday and the last day he ever had a day nap . Our sex life has been held hostage to this travesty ever since. I am in my prime early afternoon, I will even INSTIGATE sex (I know!!) in the afternoons but poor Nick.....well lets say it has been a dry few years for the poor bugger with a second pregnancy since then and me preferring the Master bed for sleeping rather than nookie in the evenings. Why would I want sex when I could be sleeeeeeping?

I have to say I feel a little bad when the class choices came out. Thursday is Nicks guaranteed shift where he starts at 5pm so the day would be wiiiiide open if you get my drift if G Man is at Kindy, as Master J still has day naps. BUT shouldnt Nick be enjoying Daddy Son time with G Man on his day off from Kindy too?

Thought about it.

For about 3 seconds.

I miss afternoon delights and if we can schedule it in once a week it will be a win-win and G will be none the wiser as to why he is really in the Gold Class, apart from the fact it sounds cooler. Gold Class. Yeah baby. Bring on Kindy - and the tissue box.

Ewww - that came out wrong. Sorry. The tissues are for the tears I will no doubt shed - sex bonus or not, I really will miss my little sweetheart , just not so much on Thursdays :)

Linky Blog - Advice to My Sons.

2012-01-03T20:48:00.000+08:00

This blog is written with inspiration from The Things I Could Tell You Blog - cheers Melissa for taking me on a different tangent and making me think about the kind of boys I want to raise :)

This week's prompt:

"If you could only give your children one piece of advice, what would it be?"

Source: shopquickquotes.com via Melissa on Pinterest

The quality that made me fall in love with my husband is his steadfast integrity, in his profession, his relationships with his peers and foes and also with his loved ones. Integrity makes a man. Without it, you will never succeed, not fully, in life, professionally or personally. It is the one true thing that will keep you honest in a sea of thieves and it will hold you close to all that is really important in life.

Integrity is the opposite of hypocrisy, it speaks your truth and never deviates from what you know to be honest and right.

Integrity enables you to stand up to others for what you know to be right, even if it makes you an outcast, and as Edmund Blackadder said to "laugh in the face of fear" - although I have wondered at Blackadder's integrity on MANY an occasion :)

Integrity is doing the right thing, even when you know that no one will ever find out.

~ Oprah Winfrey

(not sure if she actually said this in the first place but it is quoted to her as well)

Integrity can be as small as offering up the less burnt cookie to your little brother before he see's the options or taking the blame for his actions when he was simply defending your honour at school. It can be as big as giving away a lifelong friendship because he insulted your wife and burdened her heart or being able to listen to lies told about yourself and holding your head high, knowing them to be false in your heart.

I think it is mine and Nicks job to teach our sons what is good and right. We need to teach them how to stand up for their beliefs and that it's OK if others don't agree - they shouldn't give up their beliefs and their truth simply because others don't hold the same opinions. If we can teach them how to have integrity we can teach them not to bow to peer pressure, to hold out for their dreams and to stand up for what they believe in, no matter how steep the cost.

My parents had this exact poster of Rudyard Kipling's "If" poem (below) on the back of their en-suite toilet door and as a small child I would often choose to go sit there and read it though. Many of my ideals, truths and personal beliefs - my faiths if you will - stem from these words and I think it is mainly written about a Man who has integrity.

I can still quote it 35 years after first reading it - it is etched on my soul. Its want I want my boys to have and I will do my utmost to instil it in them; if they can be the man their father is I will know I have succeeded as a mother - if they have it, all other things will come to them, I promise them.

My Mantra for my Sons - I love you so very much.

'til next time,

Lisa

xxx

Piffle to Trifle

2012-01-03T19:46:00.002+08:00

I was watching an episode (or two) of "Everybody Loves Raymond" on New Years Eve (by myself with a bottle of wine as you do with two kidlets and a working hubby) - you know the one where Deborah tries to recreate Ray's favourite dish that Marie makes, her famous MEATBALLS. If you havent seen this episode I wont give away the ending but let me just use the word "sabotage" and remind the cooking hopefuls that tarragon is NOT a classic meatball ingredient, no matter what the label says. Anyway, I digress. My gorgeous mother-in-law is nothing like Marie and I would have her come live with us in a heartbeat as she hates cooking (which I love) and she adores cleaning (which surprise surprise I detest)

Now the thing that peeves me to no end is, despite the fact she cant stand cooking whilst I have an encyclopaedia of cookbooks at my fingertips, my darling husband goes on and on at Christmastime how he misses his mother's trifle. I loathe trifle and have never made it - seriously, its just slop elegantly displayed in a bowl - BUT this year I said I would give it a whirl, surely it cant be that hard?

I took the opportunity when we had interstate friends come stay with us for a night the week before Christmas to give it a trial run. I had seen a recipe from a blog I read and swear by

http://www.stayathomemum.net.au/recipes/desserts/christmas-trifle/

and it had a picture of.....

this trifle - which I thought looked PERFECT!

I gather all the ingredients and the night before our guests arrive I showed my darling husband the picture. He looks at it, sighs and says "yeeeeeeees, it looks fine". Now us girls know that when we say "fine" then its totally awful so I interrogate him and he eventually says with guilty reluctance, "It doesnt have any jelly. Mums trifle has jelly" Fortunately I remember that I have a packet of (diet) strawberry jelly crystals (out of date) hidden in the back of the pantry probably on sale before I had children and bought it for just in case I did eventually have them. I cannot fathom what the date could possibly implicate on a food poisoning level of sugar and food dye and the shops were closed by this time so I used it anyway and we had set jelly for the next morning's assembly.

So, friends came over and after dinner my Pièce de résistance (which, BTW, looked JUST like the picture above, but with jelly, I swear!) came to the table and was served. It was tasted and met with very little enthusiasm or gusto by my getting to be very irritating husband. Resisting the urge to dump the contents in ~~his lap~~ the bin, I patiently asked through gritted teeth if he (this is to my Husband the Chef) could suggest any further "tweaks" to my recipe. To give credit, he gave it some serious thought and came up with "less cream, more sponge, raspberry jelly and just ONE layer of each", not 2-3 layers which I thought looked more aesthetically pleasing. Oh well, I wasnt trying to impress myself - I didnt even try the ~~damned~~ trifle.

Sooooooo - the following week on Christmas Day I made the trifle as directed with pre-prepared RASPBERRY jelly, less cream and a single boring layer.

This was my effort - see the extra sponge (as requested) round the edge hiding the boring single layer??

Anyway, to cut a long story short what you see in the picture stayed in the fridge in its entirety for a whole week before it eventually grew legs and walked to the bin, and me vowing to never make my ~~fussy~~, ~~pedantic~~, beautiful husband trifle EVER, EVER again.

Or.....and this is a big "or"......as I remember the wistful, longing look on Nick's face, should I bite the bullet next year and just ask his Mum for her recipe?

I know what Deborah did, and I know how well that went. I have a year to think on it.

Has anyone here got a favourite Trifle Recipe that would rival Nicks Mum? Cos I want to know about it :)

'til next time,

Lisa

xxx

Photo A Day Challenge for January

2012-01-03T07:43:00.000+08:00

Day 1 - Me

So this is me 4 years ago the day I married Mr Point Five, 7 months pregnant and happy as

a pig in muck ♥

Day 2 - Breakfast

No excuses, I am disgusting I know. I have a couple of pieces of toast at about 9am but I

need at least 2-3 cups of this first, usually with a few pieces of chocolate to kick start the

day :)

Day 3 - Something I adore

The Magic of Christmas

Day 4 - Letterbox

Sadly, I get more email, most of which is spammy advertising from companies that I purchased an impulse buy from 2 years ago and havent been bothered to unsubscribe, than real letters.

Real letters that smell nice - I miss those.

Day 5 - Something I wore

A Red Shirt with cap sleeves and a belt - the day I proposed to my Beautiful Man.

Day 6 - Makes me SMILE

Sweet Peas never fail to make me close my eyes and breathe in with sweet delight. They remind me so very much of my grandmother (my Narnie) as my Papa always used to have them in his garden every year without fail - planted on ANZAC day. I like to think they are the reincarnations of Butterflies :)

Day 7 - FAVOURITE

Favourite City - New York. This is me in Dec06/Jan 07 - stayed at a cute apartment on Lexington and shopped in the Big Apple for three weeks straight - total heaven :)

Day 8 - My sky

This was my sky at midday today from our Driveway - 24C - perfect.

Day 9 - My Routine

Every evening (and I mean every) I pour the first of two glasses of wine after the kids have

gone to bed, about 7.05pm. If its earlier you know I have had a rough day :)

Day 10 - Childhood

This is me aged about 8 on the top of a rope ladder made by my Dad on our verandah and wearing a dress made by my Mum with my materiel of choice - a holly hobbie print. I have a plush smurf that I saved my pocket money up for to buy at the local chemist from memory. I am an only child and grew up in the hills of Perth, in Greenmount - my parents split up when I was 13 and I lived with my Mum during the week and my Dad on the weekend until year 12 then this switched around - moved out of home aged 18 :)

Day 11 - where I sleep

this is where all the other bloggers post a picture of their beautifully made beds with no mess or wet towels on it in the middle of a pristine and tastefully decorated bedroom.

My bedroom is not like that, although I love our king size bed and its the boys' favourite place to be. Besides, Mr Point Five is still in the bed right now - not sure he would appreciate the attention.

So this is a picture of where I WISH I slept :)

Day 12 - closeup

This is my eldest - rising four in March and starting Kindy in a few short weeks

- he is just beautiful xxx

Day 13 - In My Bag

*deep breath* - here goes!!!

starting on top LHS and going in a clockwise direction:

1 half drunk bottle of water

1 tube hand moisturiser

1 tub hand sanitiser

1 container "magic" bandaids

1 spare nappy, bag, nappy cream

1 spare hat, nappy wipes and tissue pack

1 wallet (faux Bali Prada to match the Handbag)

3 different types of sunscreen

2 emergency deodorants for me in case I forget before I leave the house

1 tub frangipani lip balm

1 spare onesie for Jax

1 pack panadol

keys

1 spare sanitary pad

1 roll film from only God knows when

1 Playgroup Association membership card

3 pens, 1 concealer stick, 1 lipstick, 2 coloured lip gloss,1 lip balm and 2 nurofen droppers

coinage

1 heart shaped hair clip

3 spoons

1 cheque and a key to I have no idea

1 fold up brush

1 loyalty card for local bakery

1 broken mobile phone - dropped my baby in the ocean and cant bear to throw it

1 ring that needs fixing and has been in my bag for about 5 years

2 dinosaurs, 1 dino sticker pad and some sparkly dino stickers

1 plane and 1 horse finger puppet

1 ladybird rattle

2 containers of bubble mixture with wand inside

2 packets snack sized Barbeque/Pizza shapes

1 tin Egg Custard

There - think that's it - oh wait, a compact mirror, a nailfile, some nail clippers and another tube of lip balm fell out when I went to shake my bag outside.

There that's it - please don't despise or pity me or be amazed at my packing prowess.

I have no excuse.

Or magic trick.

Just the bandaids - they're magic - that's what I tell G Man and he believes me :)

Day 14 - What I'm reading

Water for Elephants on my eee-pad :)

Day 15 - Happiness

Happiness is when THIS man walks in the door after work because the boys leap into his arms and I manage to get some "me" time, if only for a little while :)

Day 16 - Morning

Say no more Garfield - I hear you.

Day 17 - Water

I think the beach may just about be G Man's favourite place to be - pity we live so far away.

Day 18 - something I bought

Not that I profess to be cool or anything , but it site, framed on my piano between two pictures of my boys :)

Day 19 - Sweet

the cake I made for G Man's second birthday - yummo!

Day 20 - Someone I Love

This Man is the first person I have met who looks past all my imperfections and see's only good.
I adore him.

Day 21 - Reflection

I miss this girl more than I care to admit and I wish I had her back in my life.

Day 22 - Shoes

How cool are these?? Not sure they really exist, but if they did I would soooooo wear them!

Day 23 - Something Old

This is my Great Grandmothers wedding ring which I wear on the middle finger of my right hand. It has a "D" and an "R" engraved on the top (Dorothy and Reginald) and their wedding date July 16th 1908 engraved on the inside. She died 4 years after her wedding in childbirth with my Grandmother.

Day 24 - Guilty Pleasure

Chocolate Bullets for breakfast, with coffee, after dinner, midnight snack - only thing is, I dont really feel THAT guilty about my obsession :)

Day 25 - Daily Routine

If I EVER blog that we are pregnant again you will know THIS (above) fu@ked up in a big way.

Two kidlets is enough for us!

Day 26 - Colour

This is 5 mins from my front door in August and September each year - the rolling fields of gold canola - isnt it magic??? This photo won me $100 in our local town Photo Comp :)

Day 27 - Lunch

This is me trying to be creative and get G Man to eat his veggies - chicken-on-a-stick and

a carrot and capsicum crab!

FAIL.

NYE - what's that again??

2011-12-28T19:37:00.000+08:00

This is where I spent New Years Eve seeing in 2007

It is MARQUEE Nightclub in the Big Apple and I was there for three weeks (not at the nightclub, that would be bad, just in NYC) with my best friend (we had both left our prospective husbands at home) doing nothing but eating, sipping cocktails and shopping. On this awesome occasion I drank nothing but the finest French Champagne all night, had our jackets checked in at the door, wore the tiniest hot pink bandaid of a dress with matching killer heels (bought in Soho the day before), perved on celebrity (Jessica Simpsons ex hubby Nick Lachey was there with his girlfriend), had a few laughs fending off handsome strangers, danced up a storm, stumbled into a cab at 4am back to our apartment and then slept til 6pm the following evening.

This is where I spent the following NYE (a GROH house - isn't it gorgeous??) - at home alone (hubby working and we had only just moved to Port Hedland so I knew not many people) and 7 months pregnant so no champy. From memory, I watched this....

....on the TV (country channels - woot woot) and went to bed at 10.30pm.

The following year Nick was working again and I saw the new year in with this little person.....I think I may have had a glass or two of champy after his 7pm boob and, same as the year before, I was in bed about 10, then again at midnight, then 3am and up at 6am in the new year.

December 31st 2009 was again spent at home with this little one although I am pretty sure I had about a bottle of champers (maybe 2??) to myself and made it to at least 11pm before passing out on the couch to RAGE.

These were my dates for New Years last year and as you can see from my massive BOOBIES I was breastfeeding so no drinkies for me! Darling hubby was on Long Service Leave so we had a little family of four for the evening. Im pretty sure I stayed up til 9pm, saw the Fireworks off the Harbour Bridge for the New Year on the telly and called it a night. Hey it was midnight somewhere and there were fireworks - it counts! Nick brought the New Year in with the X-Box as his date :)

But at least we were living here - a much nicer GROH house :)

This New Years, I am still at home sans husband but I am not pregnant and not breastfeeding. I wish I could say that I will be using this to my advantage but I think you can guess how my New Years will end up. Maybe I could download a Michael Buble Concert - he would be a lovely date for the night. As long as he lets me go to bed at 10pm.

What are your plans to see in the New Year???

'til next time,

Lisa

xxx

FML - just for a night.

2011-12-18T19:15:00.000+08:00

I would like to take you back to a night about 3 years ago, give or take, when it was just one point five kids and Mr Point Five was working evening shift so it was just me and the G Man aged about 9 months.

This evening was my first experience with what to do when your baby poo's in the bath.

RULE 1. don't freak out and pull out the plug - you will lose sight of the poo once the water has gone as it probably has gotten wedged inside a plastic boat of some description. If there is water, it should float and be easier to see and remove.

RULE 2. do freak out and pull the baby out

RULE 3. grab a pair of gloves and remove offending item swiftly as baby poo tends to disintegrate exTREMEly quickly!

So, off to a fine start.

Then as I was preparing dinner I noticed a vile smell wafting in from the laundry - the dryer was on and the hot air billowing out the door was definitely rank.

NB - I must explain a pre-existing situation in order to lay grounds for this part of my night. We have a Jack Russell, Pawthos, who I buy raw chicken necks for as a treat on occasion. I had given Pawthos 3-4 necks a week or so earlier which he promptly took and I assumed ate out in the back garden. Sometimes he buries such items with intent on returning in 2-3 days which is fine as long as this too is outside. There had been an odd smell in the laundry for the past day or two and for the life of me I could not discern its origin having looked pretty much everywhere with no success.

So, back to the dryer smell. I went into the laundry and immediately opened the dryer door - to my horror a hot GREEN chicken neck fell out the door and onto the laundry floor. I think I just about vomited. What a God-awful stench. Turns out Pawthos had hidden his chicken neck outside and then relocated it to underneath the dirty clothes pile. So the chicken neck had been through the washing machine AND the dryer with a full load of clothes. So revolting - all clothes chucked out - I think the smell was BAKED in after a hot dryer cycle. Needless to say a LOT of disinfectant and bleach were used in the next few empty cycles.

Righto - G Man was in bed, I had a fresh cooked meal in front of me and a glass of wine to soothe a fractured soul. About to hit play on "Erik the Viking" and knocked (full) glass ofwine over - SMASH - at least the smell of white wine all over the floor shoulddrown out the chicken neck stench! For fu@ks sake people!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Kill menow why dont you? I may as well have given up and gone to bed.

EVENING = EPIC FAILURE

Later that night I was (lamenting probably) on facebook and a girlfriend said that her partners "favourite part" of my evening was the poo. Awesome. My night now had favourite parts.

'til next time,

Lisa

xxx

Disclaimer: not one single part of that story was made up just for laughs. It honestly happened in just that FML way.

You can leave your Hat on.

2011-12-12T18:58:00.001+08:00

It was our son's first birthday over the weekend and hubby and I decided just to have some close friends over with their kids for some drinks and a lunch BBQ with nibbles, salads and of course a birthday cake.

Three weeks before I had ordered the champagne online to be delivered and reminded Hubby that he had to get the keg made and on for the blokes who would be there. A week earlier I had the menu written. Four days before I had the shopping list written out and ordered the bread rolls fresh-made to be picked up morning of (plus a loaf of sliced white bread for fairy bread;). Two days earlier I made the cake and the day before I iced and decorated the cake, made 3 salads and a dip and baked a brownie slice (all with two kids at home). The morning of I was up with the kids, giving hubby a sleep in since I had stuff to do anyways, dashed down to the bakery and the local shop for ice. Got home, vacuumed and gave the toy room a tidy. Put the champagne on ice outside, glasses on the table, made adult desserts and popped chips out on the table.

Hubby put the weber on.

Guests arrived at 12pm......

My job: greet guests, receive presents for Master J and ensure Master G didn't get too enthusiastic and open them for him; get girls a champers/softie; offer dip around, get oven on for kids food; make and serve fairy bread; check roasts; take salad to table with bread; top up champagne; bring in nibblies; serve kids food; rescue sausage rolls from bowl of tomato sauce; carve roasts (four); serve cut meat on platter; put Master J in a highchair and get him food; clear kids stuff (what a mess); clear empty plates; wipe down highchair; clear empty salads and meat; bring out cake; cut and serve cake; offer and make coffee/tea; wipe down the kitchen; put leftovers in fridge; bring out adult dessert; top up champagne; give out party bags; heat up remaining party pies and sausage rolls for kids dinner (about 5 left at this stage), get Little J dinner, bathed and into jim-jams; put J to bed; put on movie for remaining kids, try to keep kids quiet as J sleeping; put Master G to bed; bid farewell to last guests; attempt to tidy up but by 9pm I had the splitting headache from hell so I go to bed leaving hubby up.

Hubby's job : get the blokes at the party beer; drink beer; bring roast in from Weber to kitchen; drink more beer.

Thats it.

Oh - sorry, there is more. Get rollicking drunk, stay up after guests have gone home playing computer games and eventually stagger to bed at 1am, leaving the house as it was when I went to bed, and totally forgotten that he had agreed the day before that he would get up with the kids in the morning.

I get up with the kids the next morning, clean up outside, clean up inside, put three loads in and out of the dishwasher and a load in the washing machine all before hubby surfaces about 10am. Then I vacuum and mop the floor.

How does this happen? Why does this happen? Why do we LET it happen???

How is it that the men can take off their Daddy hat so easily and forget about their responsibilities as parents for the afternoon and yet we cant remove our Mummy one? Seems to be superglued on. I just wish I could just be "Lisa" for an event and not "Mum", but I simply Can't - I dont know how. Its a talent that I envy but if I had it, the nagging for the blokes to do the parent stuff for the day would skyrocket and be totally painful for all concerned so its a lose/lose situation.

Tell you what, just wait 'til Master G turns four in March - I'll make the cake but we are going OUT!

Happy Birthday to my darling baby boy :)

My Husband the Chef

2011-12-02T18:58:00.001+08:00

My hubby is a gorgeous man - he has a stressful job handling situations that would give the rest of us nightmares. He is a FANTASTIC dad with endless patience for being shot dead by a dinosaur and then coming back to life again with a single kiss (the latest game). He knows that when I put the pink floral flannelette ankle length nightie on to come to bed to not ask for sex and when he DOES help with the housework, he turns the house inside out to get it done properly (not the slap dash job I do on a daily basis). I simply adore him.

BUT..... he is a helpless git when it comes to following instructions when they relate to ~~cooking~~ anything to do with food.

Example 1.

Before kids, Nick and I used to enjoy a weekly Sunday brunch down the road at a local cafe - that was when you got to enjoy a sleep in. Our "usual order" was eggs benedict with smoked salmon and we did this for nearly a year - thats 52 serves of eggs benedict with smoked salmon give or take. SO, when we moved to live1700km from this cafe, I though that I would stick to the usual and offer to cook home made Eggs Benedict for Nick on our first Sunday morning. Small problem - had all the ingredients (even for a home made hollandaise - yes I am just THAT good ;) to cook it from scratch apart from the salmon so whilst I got started on the eggs and sauce, I sent hapless hubby down to Coles to gather the salmon. He set off enthusiastically and returned in similar form, very proud of his efforts in the cold-cuts department. Apart from this: I unwrapped the butcher paper, thinking wow, he has gone fancy and got deli-smoked salmon instead of the usual vacuum-packed stuff I buy, but no, he had purchased 2 fillets of SALMON - big chunky raw fishy salmon. When questioned about his buying prowess he got all defensive saying "well, you just asked for salmon so that's what I bought!!!"

Lesson learned - I have never sent my salmon-challenged hubby on another solo grocery shopping expedition - was that his mission in the first place??? Makes me wonder.

Example 2.

I leave to take G Man to speech therapy, giving my darling hubby very explicit instructions on what to give master J for a morning tea snack - a banana and a tub of yoghurt. Apparently the chocolate milo snack pack constitutes yoghurt because "it comes in the same tub and was in the fridge" - Jax must have thought it was Christmas and from then on I leave a post-it note on the mid-morning snack in the fridge.

Example 3.

I get back from playgroup with both boys in tow ( for those of you with more than one child at playgroup you will know that it is no longer the "relax with a cuppa session" which USED to be with only one child - its a kind of manic juggling act whilst trying to negotiate an adult conversation and the only thing that keeps you going is that it isnt your house being trashed), to be met with a "oh thank goodness youre home, Im STARVING". Now there is fresh bread on the bench, ham, tomato, cheese and lettuce in the fridge and an assortment of condiments which hubby dearest COULD have put together himself but NO, its too hard. "You make the BEST sandwiches" he says whilst I am simultaneously changing a dirty nappy, getting G Man a drink and navigating the remote control to find Postman Pat. I say "Seriously?? You cant make yourself a sandwich??" I don't even have the energy to make myself a ham and salad sandwich, let alone a fully grown and capable man.

I dig my heels in. I am not his mother and its not that hard. I show him where all the stuff is.

You know what he does?

Nothing.

And goes to work.

~~Hungry~~, sorry, STARVING.....

I will say one thing - he bought me a Thermomix a few months back out of the kindness of his heart. Just because he loved me and he knew I wanted one. See? There is a pay off for accepting general culinary pathetic-ness and making a him a ham and salad sandwich - sometimes.

Til next time,

Lisa xxx

What to buy a One Year Old

2011-11-26T15:11:00.001+08:00

Master J will be one next month and as I was browsing through a list of Top Five Toys to get for one year old babies it occurred to me how much a waste of money even the cheapest of these baubles was.

This is my list of Top Five things to entertain a 12 month old baby.

1. A box of tampons - guaranteed to keep a baby amused when they are accompanying you to the loo; they are handy and accessible. At least half an hour can be wasted popping the top off the box, pulling tampons out, examining them, putting them back, closing the lid, opening the lid, pulling them out, examining them.........

2. Take the phone off the hook in one room and give bubs the other extension. It makes bubs feel important and believe me, they know if you give them the dud broken one - they will call your bluff every time. This way it makes all the right beeps and noises but cant dial Germany like Jax did a few months ago with the redial button - for four hours and 48 minutes - eeeek!

3. Pop him in his high chair and let him feed himself with spoon and container - a good 30 minutes can be spent blogging here or getting dinner ready. Just make sure you are prepared to head straight to the bath afterwards though :)

This is Master J with his dessert tub :)

4. Go and tidy up the toy room - toys that have been sitting under the couch or cluttering up the window ledge, once put neatly away in their proper places are INSTANTLY desirable to children of all ages. As soon as you pack stuff away, it is pulled out and strewn all over the lounge room floor for hours of new entertainment.

5. My personal favourite - get your purse out. This gives bubs opportunity to practise fine motor skills, enhances his pincer grip and gives you opportunity to throw out all those petrol station and IGA receipts that are stopping it from clipping shut. It is a toy that is usually accessible at all times and can be used in the shopping trolley or on the cafe floor.

Jax's favourite toy of all - my wallet :)

'til next time,

Lisa

xxx

If I have ever made you laugh, please press the button above to vote for my blog in the Circle of Mums - Top 25 Blogs Australia :)

My Christmas Wish List

2011-11-21T19:01:00.001+08:00

Muddled Up Mumma has asked me what I am dreaming of this Christmas?

For the 12 days of Christmas I would like:

12 nights uninterrupted 8 hour sleeps

11 dinners to be eaten by my three year old

10 minutes of peace in the toilet each day

9 boxes of Guylian Seashell Chocolates

8 bottles of French Champagne *sigh*

7 days of a clean and tidy house for more than 5 minutes

6 pairs of edible undies and the time to have fun with them ;)

5 days of takeout and no dishes

4 kisses every hour from my beautiful husband

3 new movies featuring Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt and George Clooney

2 happy little boys who will love their mummy forever and a day

1 father to accept and be happy with the grown woman I am

Too much to ask for?? Probably.

Spreading the cheer to Seven Cherubs
Little Drummer Boys
and Whoa Mumma

What are you dreaming of this Christmas?

If I have ever made you laugh, please press the button above to vote for my blog in the Circle of Mums - Top 25 Blogs Australia :)

'til next time,

Lisa
xxx

Things I Know

2011-11-18T18:26:00.001+08:00

I will have been a Wife for four years next month and a Mother for four years in March (yes for those of you who are good at maths, I was 6 months up the duff when we got married :), and these are some of the things I have learnt.

1. It takes one minute to heat up 9 chicken nuggets in the microwave
2. It takes 22 seconds to heat a 210ml formula bottle
3. It takes 30 seconds to heat a cold cup of tea
4. Children have absolutely no concept of the notion of "being quiet", especially if their younger sibling is napping or has just gone to bed for the night
5. The good stuff that babies want is the stuff on your desk, not the plethora of toys in the lounge room.
6. There is always room for chocolate
7. No matter how close the bin is to the kitchen bench, your husband will always leave his beer bottle tops on the bench
8. No matter how many times you show your husband where the washing machine is, he will always leave his socks where he was sitting when he took off his shoes
9. The best part of my day is still when I hear the garage door opening and Nick coming in :) (unless I am in bed already and then the best bit is being able to starfish in the bed to go to sleep)
10. I don't know what is so fascinating about the remote, the phone and the oven but all babies want to play with them and drive you nuts trying to get to them
11. Children won't starve themselves
12. Apparently there IS a taste difference between Orange Juice and V8 Juice - damn kids.
13. A kiss can make anything better
14. A glass of wine and nutella on toast does count as a balanced dinner when you are home alone with the kids
15. Tomorrow is always a fresh day with no mistakes in it (Anne of Green Gables said this - I adored her as a little girl and still do)
16. The best jewellery I own are 2 little pairs of arms wrapped around my neck.
17. Wine IS the answer to most problems
18. There is no such thing as a sleep in after you have had children
19. That I would love just five minutes alone to go to the toilet in peace
20. There is a number 1, number 2 and a number 3 with regards to nappies
21. That I can only be the best Mum and Wife that I know how to be and feel comfortable living with - perfection is overrated and doesnt exist - you will go mad trying to please everybody
22. The right way is the one that works
23. Potato Fries count as a Vegetable in the 2 fruit/5 veg rule
24. The best feeling in the world is a hug and a kiss from your child - just cos they felt like it *love*

25. .........That I have soooo much more to learn (eeeek, my boys will be teens before I blink) - and I'm looking forward to it :)

What have you learnt?

'til next time,

Lisa

xxx

Where to put the tree this year?

2011-11-16T13:40:00.001+08:00

Just a little bit excited - our new Disney Christmas Centrepiece just arrived today and I reckon half the joy has been had in the look on G-Man's face when we turned it on and the little houses lit up, the trains carrying all his favourite Disney characters went round the tracks and the dancing couples pirouetted their way around in the snow. I will pop it away tonight after the kiddies are in bed and it will come out again on December 1st with all the rest of our festive decorations. Anyone would think that Santa threw up at our house on November 30th with the sheer amount of glitter clad ornaments and decorations that we seem to accumulate each year. I am lucky that Nick enjoys Christmas and likes to be surrounded by quality ornaments and centrepieces and each year we look for a new trinket to display on the mantelpiece or atop the piano.

I remember the first Christmas we had with G Man and he was 9 months - we had the playpen surrounding the tree and G had a permanent bruise on his cheek from reaching in and stretching as far as he could to see if he could reach it. The second year we tried to teach him basic self control and took the railings away. The result was not a well-disciplined toddler but a tree that was missing all the ornaments from about waist-high down. The third Christmas we decided to let G help decorate the tree which resulted in the tree being clad from just over waist-high down and not terribly much up top as he refused to let us help. I am hoping this year at the age of rising four that G may have started to appreciate the aesthetics of a well balanced Christmas Tree and let us delegate where things are to be hung and help out.

I think I'm setting myself up for disappointment though as I have forgotten the addition this year of Master Jax who at 12 months of age, and going by Geordie's past age-appropriate efforts, is up to the Discovery and Destruction 101 phase of having a Christmas Tree. The playpen has seen better days and is now guarding the weber outside and our tree touches the roof when it is on the ground so what do we do?

Any suggestions on how to rebuff a very intently destructive 12 month old and a big brother who I am pretty sure will assume the role of "Protector of the Christmas Tree"?

Bath Time is just not the same.

2011-11-13T19:59:00.001+08:00

Do you remember bath time when you were single or in that honeymoon phase of a new relationship?

Candles, scented soaps, bubbles, lather, a good book maybe, soft music.......ahhhhhhhh.

What's bath time like now??

For me it is run the bath complete with dinos, fish, turtles, octopus's (octopi??), helicopters and elmo flannels, extract Jax from highchair and deposit into bath (he wont sit down, it real fun) and then find Geordie who has done a Houdini act and has disappeared (under his doona, not a hard find :)

I get Geordie undressed and tell him that he needs to use the toilet cos its gross to wee in the bath. "No" is the answer.

"Go to the toilet or there is no dinner" "No"

"Go to the toilet or there is no dinner and no TV after your bath" "No"

"Go to the toilet right now young man or there will be no dinner, TV or eee-pad after dinner"

Geordie goes to the toilet and hops into the bath.

Then it is a battle to stay dry, usually unwinnable, as well as get faces wiped, behind ears, bums cleaned, watch Tyrannosaurus Rex eat numerous fish, stop Jax from drinking the bathwater, rescue man-overboard little people as well as keep taps from being turned on, turtles from falling out and stop sibling war as Jax manoeuvres clumsily around the tub and into enemy territory which G-Man is guarding with a dino.

THEN get G-man out and into a hooded dino towel and get Jax out and dry whilst stopping him eating the plug simultaneously.

I have tried to have an "adult" bath once since Geordie was born (before Jax) and it was a dismal failure. I pried the frogs, lily-pads and elmos off the side and saw all the grime and muck underneath - ewwww - had to soak them in bleach. Turfed out all the toys and got rid of the baby shampoos and stuff from the edge. Lit some candles and grabbed a mag. Settled in and........G starts crying. Nick is at work. I listen for a bit, he hasn't cried after he has gone to bed for MONTHS and he chooses tonight. Crying. More crying. I try to ignore and read my magazine. More crying. I hide under the bubbles, surely it will stop - my toes are clenched, so much for relaxing. Nope, I am beaten - I get out and dripping wet and wrapped in a towel I go in to G-Man, pick him up, give him kisses and cuddle him off to sleep, singing lullabies. My toes are uncurled:)

Naaaaw - better than a relaxing bath anyday.

Besides, my hands stink of bleach - it never would have worked :)

"til next time

Lisa

Phone Conversations with friends who don't have Kids

2011-11-05T20:04:00.000+08:00

I think before I get to the main topic of this story I need to illustrate how my sophisticated and user-friendly life was before children.

Up at 7am; at work by 8 wearing aclean and fashionable outfit; eat a leisurely breakfast at my computer; varied and interesting challenges in the day all which could be achieved without fuss from my desk and with praise from my boss if I achieve on time; lunch with colleagues at 1; home at 4:30; wine at5pm; catch the news at 6pm; a lazy, lovingly planned and prepareddinner/movie/exciting night out; bed by 10pm; exotic sex and lights out at 11pm for afull 8 hours uninterrupted sleep.

This is me now.

At work 24 hours but generally out of bed by 6am for no good reasonother than my baby thinking its a good idea; 9 times out of 10 I forget to have breakfast; wearspewed on nightie til its baby's nap time around 9:30am then shower and getchanged into whatever clean(ish) clothes I can see on my floordrobe; lunchis my toddlers leftovers, usually half a vegemite sandwich and discarded apple; wine starts at midday; newstime has fallen into a hellish 2hour block from 5-7pm of bath the kids, feed the kids, stop the kids fighting, get kidsdressed, teeth cleaned and in to bed; dinner is whatever I pulled out of thefreezer and felt motivated to cook between the chaos that is the aforementioned2 hours; nobody praises me for any of my extraordinarily boring daytime/houseduty achievements; I fall asleep on the couch by 8:30pm and am woken by my droolhitting my arm; time for bed - I'm sorry, SEX?? Really honey, is it that time of the weekalready?? Lights out at 10pm and then I am on call all night for no good reasonother than my baby thinking its a good idea.

Now I had a girlfriend (sans children) who used to commute in an hour long drive to and fro work each day and it was convenient for her to call me at 5pm in her car and "catch-up" for the drive home (she always had fantastic weekend plans and you could never catch her when it was baby's nap time when you could relax on the couch for a chat).

She would inevitably call as the bath was running and I was wrestling with my baby, trying to stay clean whilst juggling him out of an outfit which had his dinner all down the front and more often than not a dirty nappy that had to be dealt with before his water adventures. Once this was achieved (awesomely I might add with one hand and phone in the other) and baby was deposited in the bath, I generally had about 10 minutes with two hands BUT had to stop baby from drinking the bath water, tipping the contents of the bath all over me and the floor, scoop his dinner off his clothes and transfer to the washing machine. I also had to try to keep the dog out of the bath and then when finished (again awesomely with one hand) get baby out of the bath, dried and into a nappy, dressed in a sleep suit with impossible snap-fasteners, then go and try to cook dinner for myself and my husband for his shift break with baby on my hip only to be surgically removed before his bedtime at 7pm.

My girlfriend would open conversation with, "what have you been up to"? or "have you got any news/been up to anything interesting"? or "what are you doing on the weekend"? as per my pre-baby life. She just didn't get that I have been up to exactly the scenario above, there is no news unless you count my newly achieved craftmaking skills at playgroup or mammoth housework marathon, and my weekend days might be recognisable from groundhog day when my baby starts school.

She would complain that I often sounded "distracted" and said that she was beginning to feel "insignificant" because I didn't make uninterrupted time for her when she rang me. When we caught up in the flesh she would request that my baby not be there because I always had one eye on him and she felt unimportant. She booked lavish restaurants that I could no longer afford on a single wage and made the bookings for 8:30pm like we used to. She rolled her eyes when I started yawning about half an hour into dinner and grumbled that things weren't the "same" as they were . Needless to say this friendship didn't last - we haven't spoken for nearly two years now and the ironic thing is that she is pregnant herself now.

I hope with all fingers crossed that my phone rings when her bubs is born and it's her telling me that she now realises that in fact, I haven't changed at all, I never did, it's just that my life has - I am exactly the same girl I was before kids, I still love her just the same - I just have different things to worry about now :)

'til next time

Lisa

xxx

PS - I was just kidding about drinking wine from midday. Its usually starts at 9am :)

What "we" Do.

2011-10-31T08:55:00.000+08:00

I am taking the kids up to Perth today for three nights and as I am packing the suitcase I am reminded of a conversation, some might call an argument, with Mr Point Five after one particular packing episode early on in our marriage.

Since we have been married we have lived in country towns away from relatives in Perth which means every couple of months we pack up and visit the rellies for a week or so. On this particular occasion we were about an hour away from home on a 6 hour drive and I turn to Nick and say "did you remember to load the portacot?" He turns to me and says quite self-righteously "was it by the front door? Because you know that you get the stuff ready and put it by the front door and then I load the car. If its not at the front door then it doesn't get packed. That's what "we" do". My mouth fell open. This was the first that I had heard of this particular royal arrangement.

"Really?" I say. "That's what "we" do is it? So I have all the responsibility of remembering, um, EVERYTHING and you just need to load the car. How effing convenient!" (can you hear the total frustration, disbelief and aggghhrrrrr in my tone?) 'Well that's what my Mum does", he says. "I just assumed that's how it would work with us". Stunned frosty silence in the car for 20 minutes whilst I tried to put the flames in my mouth out.

Can anyone else see how the rest of THIS conversation went???

My poor, poor deluded husband thought that since his parents have somehow come to this travel/packing arrangement after 40 or so odd years of marriage that our house would operate the same way after 2??

I tried not terribly successfully to calmly explain that I was NOT his mother (don't we all LOVE those conversations? We have had a few mainly along the topics of cooking and housework but this packing one was new) and that if he turned into his father I would either murder or leave him.

It took the rest of the five hour drive and a new $300 portacot at our destination to remedy that arrangement in his mind. That and the fact that I had also purely by luck or stroke of genius, forgotten to pack his jocks on the same occasion and he had to borrow his Dads.

From then on, Nick is totally responsible for and packs his own stuff, I do me and the boys and we spend the last 5 minutes before we leave the house cross checking what we have forgotten to pack for various trips over the last 5 years. This is what "we" do in our house ;)

'til next time,

Lisa
xxx

Roll up to the Toilet Circus.

2011-10-28T13:36:00.000+08:00

I am loving the fact that my eldest (three and a half) is now fully toilet trained, but my problem now is that his little brother (10 months) is loving it too and this creates a Mexican stand-off between the two of them with me as the reluctant referee.

Jax's latest place to "hide" blocks and other treasures is in the toilet so the door remains firmly closed at all times......
.....except when its occupied by his big brother and then its a free for all with bonus points for getting things in between the knees.

So, when you are in the kitchen getting dinner ready and G-Man comes in with his pants and jocks around his knees and says "yucky" that you know your ticket for the circus that is number two's in our house is about to be cashed in.

G sits on the loo with dino book on lap and settles in to do his business (what is it with the male species that makes it necessary to sit and THINK about going for about 10 minutes before anything is actually produced?) with myself seated on the mat in front of the loo "standing guard". I would do this outside the loo door, but G feels that an audience is necessary, maybe he is concerned he may fall in if I'm not watching? So, littlest bub see's this as an open invitation to toilet central and you can hear the enthusiastic crawling up the hall and then a little head peeps 'round the corner with the biggest grin on his face and a block in each hand. It's game ON!

And it goes like this:

G: upon seeing his little brother at the door with blocks (stands up) "No!!!!!!"
Me: "SIT DOWN! You'll get poo on the floor! Its OK honey I won't let him past me".
Jax is excitedly trying to clamber over the obstacle course that is his mother in his desperate efforts to get to the open toilet. He throws the blocks over and then goes in for the attack by trying to get over my legs, then under. Shrieks indignantly at me blocking all efforts then tries again. Goes for the stealth mode, then the vault. Gets half way over. Gets picked up and unceremoniously deposited on the door side of myself, shrieks and tries again at which point G-Man, vainly trying to protect his toilet dignity, stands up again to help me keep his brother at bay.
Me: "Are you finished?"
G: "No"
Me: "Then SIT DOWN and finish!".

This carry-on goes on for about four to five repeats of the above scenario and then after about 15 minutes G-Man declares himself finished and in a tangle of arms, legs, blocks and bottoms I manage to wipe what I hope is the right bottom , flush and get to the bathroom for wash hands.

......and pray that dinner isn't ruined.

'til next time,

Lisa

Sex v's Facebook.

2011-10-25T20:19:00.000+08:00

My girlfriend posted this link on Facebook a few days ago, 20% of women would give up sex for facebook.

Before I even clicked on the link I thought surely this figure is fabricated. It HAS to be wrong. There is no way this could be the correct percentage. Have the misquoted it and substituted the work "Sex" for "Wine"?(Ha! I wouldn't give THAT up - no way) I skipped to the comments and most readers were outraged - WHO in their right mind would give up sweet, beautiful, heart-wrenchingly gorgeous, orgasmicly sexy leeeervemaking with your soulmate every night for weekly cyberspace?? I felt guilty - really guilty. Maybe there was something awfully wrong with me? Then as I was reading I noticed two things.

1. The survey had been done with Cosmopolitan readers

2. You only had to give up sex for a WEEK- seriously, a week, what's the big deal? I am lucky to even HAVE sex in a given week!

It was then I relaxed. I wasn't a freak. I wasn't abnormal or depraved. I just wasn't a 20 something single looking for Mr Right and having a fine time finding him or in a honeymoon period with my new awesomely sexy partner.

I was MARRIED....

....with CHILDREN.

Hell - If it had been a survey of New Parenting Magazine it would have been 90% - and that's being optimistic. Because lets face it - sleep deprived mothers of young children are (or should I say our husbands are) lucky to be getting sex once a week anyway.

I prefer my sex to be without both the perfume of Le Infante Vomitte and the dulcet tones of Go Diego Go in the background, with children both asleep in their own bed and in the sweet knowledge that afterwards I can turn out the light and know that there is still at least 10, 8, 6 hours until I need to be out of bed again. Who can laugh out loud with me? Im not afraid to admit it - once a week (maybe twice if a lie-in is involved) sex - nice sex, sweet sex is the norm in my bedroom just not the sort of mind blowing sex you had before kids. Its hard to motivate your brain when you are a sleep deprived zombie who has been puked on for most the day.

As a SAHM, facebook is my window into another world - one where I can live vicariously through my friends and go to pubs, child-free shopping trips and Thailand holidays. That glimpse in the window keeps me grounded in a world of tantying toddlers, irrational babies and helps me not go crazy in a house that no matter what I do, is never, never tidy. I fear for my sanity if I have to go without. Seriously. There is only so much Postman Pat you can take without some form of adult intervention, even if it is in cyberspace.

It reminds me that I am not alone in a sea of nappies, dinosaurs, lego and snotty tissues and that other are doing the hard yards too. It allows me to hold out hope that it WILL get better and I will eventually get to a place where sex may even happen on a thrice weekly basis.

I might be able to get out the edible undies - if they're not out of date.

My husband is counting on it :)

'til next time,

Lisa

PS - my husband wanted me to tell you please don't get the wrong idea about him and that he totally rocks at sex - there is something wrong with me apparently :)

PPS - it is my theory that doing the dishes is a form of foreplay that more husbands should employ. There is NOTHING sexier when you are dead tired and ready to collapse between the sheets at 7pm than the sight of your husband doing the dishes. Guaranteed sex every time :)

I miss my sleep-ins.

2011-10-22T15:27:00.000+08:00

I have a 3 and a half year old, a 10 month old and a husband. You would think the latter would entitle me to have a sleep in every now and then, and it does when my nagging can't be ignored anymore, but its no longer a sleep in - what I get is a LIE in - there is a massive difference.

A SLEEP in, which you enjoyed before having children, is comprised of going to bed late having enjoyed the semi-nocturnal pleasures of staying up 'til the wee hours watching movies, drinking too much wine and eating Malteasers, going to bed, not caring for the time and drifting off to sleep (with one foot on the floor) in the sweet knowledge that you have no place to be other than your snug warm bed until whatever time you HAPPEN to wake up which is usually between the hours of 10am and midday. You get up leisurely, stretch and wander into the kitchen, grab a fresh coffee and relax with it and the Sunday paper with your lounge looking exactly as you left it the night before.

Now a LIE in is what you get when you have children. This is comprised of going to bed late having enjoyed the semi-nocturnal pleasures of staying up 'til the wee hours watching movies, drinking too much wine and eating Malteasers, staggering to bed whilst shooting the clock a murderous look, drifting off to sleep (with one foot on the floor) and then getting up every two hours to shove a dummy in, get a drink of water, take a toddler to the toilet, go to the toilet cos you're up anyway and excruciatingly aware of your bladder, shove another dummy in until 6am when the baby is fully awake and protesting at the jail that is his cot.

You shove your snoring husband in the ribs, get no response, shove again, nada. You kick your snoring husband in the shins whilst pretending to stretch (no, I didn't kick you on purpose - why would I do that?) to which you get sworn at loudly and then you listen to your grumpy husband storm around the bedroom searching for underwear, loudly make Niagra Falls like noises in the toilet all the while the baby sounds are escalating from the bedroom next door. Your husband goes out the bedroom forgetting to shut the bedroom door. Awesome. Its 615am.

You lie in bed with more than a mild hangover starting, staring at the back of your eyelids willing sleep to come, toss and turn, get grumpy, lie there thinking murderous thoughts about your dearest husband who was just doing what most men do - not his fault - and eventually drift off to that (not quite) sleep where you have the most bizarre dreams which startle you awake every 10 minutes. You give up on the idea of gratuitous sleep at 8am, stagger out of bed, wander into the kitchen and are accosted by a toddler wanting breakfast, a baby with a full nappy and the toy monster has thrown up all over the lounge room floor. Your husband see's you and instantly makes a bee-line straight back for the bed muttering something about how tired he is.

Oh and the dog has chewed the Sunday paper.

THIS is a lie in.

To all my friends without *cough splutter* the blessing of children yet, I have one word -

ENJOY!!!!!

'til next time,

Lisa

PS - somehow, even after children, husbands still manage to get a sleep in. I'm not sure how and I'm sure its an evolutionary process due to the fact their "hearing babies cry in the night and first thing in the morning" gland in their brain is so underdeveloped it doesn't rate a mention in medical dictionaries.

A virgin blogger no longer

2011-10-21T09:10:00.000+08:00

Welcome to the first blog of Two and a Half Kids!

An introduction to me - I am:

a stay at home mum of two little boys and a husband - (the point five in my blog)
37 years old (hanging on by a month)
a restaurant manager in my former life
running a little non-profitable (hoping to change that soon) business from home
looking forward (I think?) to returning to part time work when my boys start school
not afraid to admit that I cry at the drop of a hat, especially when watching Grays Anatomy or really cute/sad commercials with babies or puppies or those HBF ones - my husband thinks this is adorable (you DO know this is an ad dont you???) so I try not to do it in front of him
allergic to exercise - makes me all red in the face and I break out in a sweat
a Scorpio - be forewarned :)
annoyed at grammatical errors - shits me to tears - its not that hard to learn the difference between there, their and they're - I'm pretty sure I mastered it in primary school
happy when I can make people smile and I will endeavour to achieve this by regaling you with tales of my hapless husband and my take on motherhood :)
in love with my boys, big and small but am definitely not having any more. If I come on here and break news of a third you will know our birth control has failed in a BIG way.

I think that's a good enough summary for now - I'm sure you will get to know me more as I go and I look forward to getting to know you all too.

'til next time,

Lisa

P.S. I apologise in advance if you are already a dear friend of mine - I plan to ravage my past facebook status's for material when I hit a drought - hope you're not too bored.