Tag Archives: Jai

Put your face on and do your hair. We’ve been shot and Tameka can shoot you too!


This is a really triumphant moment for me.  I have been successful in convincing D to participate in a family photo shoot.  You know he is not a big lover of the camera and will always do his best to sabotage photos with a goofy face.  Every.  Single.  Time.


The gorgeous and talented Tameka from Tree Pretty Photography has taken our photos before.  Last year she did a photo shoot with what I thought were going to be all my children.  D got out of that one.  You can see last years shoot here.  Little did I know that I was soon to discover we were expecting one more!  Now we really do have all of our children, our family is as big as it is going to get, so it is of ever increasing importance to me to secure that illusive family photo.  A photo with us all in it.  A photo where we all look normal and like we love each other.  A photo that we could even put on our wall and not cringe every time we walk past it.

Tameka is running a freakingly good value promotion on the 16th November, which is in 2 weeks!  She is offering mini photo shoots on the beach.  You get a half hour time slot with 5 different ‘poses’ and the high resolution, edited photos in both black and white and colour will be emailed to you to do with as you please!



Now, there are a few great things about this opportunity.

  1. If you have a crabby photophobic husband like mine, he will be far more likely to participate in something that will be over very quickly.  You can give him a massive guilt trip until he says yes.
    Me:  What, our family is not important enough for you to give up half an hour of your day?
  2. Couldn’t be more easy for the goofy non-model people.  Walk in, walk out.  She has heaps of ideas ready to go.  Tameka has ‘The Eye’ and knows what will look good and work for your family.  She will tell you what to do and you just need to bring the smiles and have fun.  Practice your photo face in the car on the way to the beach.
  3. Sunny or overcast, the setting could not be more beautiful.
  4. Do I really have to point out how unbelievably cheap the deal is?  $50!  That is super good.  I was pulled in to take those portrait photos in the shopping centre recently.  They were asking $80 for ONE PHOTO!  And that is it, no digital file, nothing else.  Crazy.  (I remained strong though – ‘I’ll just take my free one please’) $50 and you can print, share and reprint as many times as you like.


I went into the shoot with a mental note of what shoots I wanted to get – the family, the kids, the boys, the babies, me and D, and little Crazy Hazey. That is 6 shots instead of 5, but I am super dooper lucky because I am good friends with Tameka’s sister, so I think she was extra generous with me.

We started off at the beach.  Unfortunately, the weather was very unkind to us.  It was as hot as Hades and blowing and absolute gale.  Hair blowing everywhere, sand all up in our eyes, babies crying.  We got a few shots in but decided to do a re-shoot in the park on a less windy day.  But don’t worry, weather looks good for 2 weeks time.  I checked.

Here are some photos from both locations.  I think you will agree that they both make a spectacular backdrop.  I personally love the green woodland type background more than the beach!  But don’t worry, if you like the trees better too, I am pretty sure Tameka is planning another event like this in a park soon.  How lucky am I?  I kind of got a 2 for 1 deal!  Now let’s see if I got the 6 shots I wanted…


The Family.





The Kids.



The Boys.



The babies.



Me and D.




Crazy Hazey.




Some extras.



So there you have it.  Beautiful photos once again.  Thank you very much Tameka!  Please, if you are on the Gold Coast or planning to visit on the 16th and have half an hour up your sleeve to create some lasting memories, or just looking for a great photographer, do yourself a favour and call Tameka from Tree Pretty Photography.  You won’t be sorry!

Which ones do you like?

Magical Milestones – First tooth, first food.


I am not sure how this happened but H is now 6 months old.  How did that happen?  Did I blink?


Here I was blissfully unaware that my little baby was getting older while nursing her, and flipping through the pages of a mothering magazine (bought for me by my super thoughtful husband) (actually, is he trying to send me a message that my mothering is no good?) (do I really need to know the ’10 top tips from a second time mums’?) when I am confronted my a Heinz Baby Food ad, and then BAM it hit me – I need to think about feeding H food!

This was a couple of weeks ago and the main reason for a mercy dash to IKEA.  Any excuse to go to IKEA is valid.  I purchased myself a new high chair and a few months supply of dish scrubbing brushes.  Enough to get me through until my next IKEA run anyway.  I ate the meatballs with lingonberry sauce.  As always.


When I announced to the family that H would be starting solids soon, J responded with, ‘but she hasn’t got any teeth.’  Well spotted J, but babies don’t need teeth to eat.  I think he thought I was going to give her crisp carrot sticks or something.  Anyway, his point is moot, as she cut her first tooth on Saturday, 1 day before her first taste of food.  1 day after her half birthday.

It is not easy to photograph the teensiest of teensy little  teeth but I believe you can juuuuust see it poking through here.

It is not easy to photograph the teensiest of teensy little teeth but I believe you can juuuuust see it poking through here.


There are actually two things you need to introduce your baby to once they start solids.  One is of course food, the other is water.  Exclusively breastfeed babies don’t need water because they get whatever they need from your magical boobs, but once they start eating food they need water to stop their poos from turning into cement.  No-one likes to poo out cement.  Think about it, if you had a liquid diet, say you drank vodka for breakfast, lunch and dinner and then someone fed you a pub roast dinner, your butt would get all bunged up too.


Now comes the food time.  What do I feed her and how do I do it?  Do I go down the Traditional Weaning route with purees, or try the Baby Led Weaning where she eats finger food and feeds herself?  I have decided to do a mix of the two, as I did with T.  I am going to do Hazel Led Weaning.

Hazel (or insert the name of YOUR baby here ____) Led Weaning goes like this – you spoon feed your baby some stuff, while they play with and attempt to feed themselves some other stuff.  I figure this is the best of both worlds.  You can make sure they are getting some food into their belly with the spoon, while allowing them the opportunity to try and coordinate their hands and mouth, and maybe, just maybe munch on something in the process.

For these first few days, all I am doing is really just trying to let her know that other things can go into her mouth and they taste funny.  I am letting her play with a spoon, and she likes that a lot.  I am not really all that fussed yet if she is eating, it is just discovery at the moment.

Here she is discovering her first taste of something other than boob:

Whoa Mumma!  What is that?  That don't taste like boob, or my thumb!

Whoa Mumma! What is that? That don’t taste like boob, or my thumb!

OK, it's not that bad.  I'll take 2 spoons please.

OK, it’s not that bad. I’ll take 2 spoons please.

Theo watches, like a dude.

Theo watches, like a dude.


The next part of the food introduction phase is the ‘watch out for the horrid change in poo consistency and smell’ part.  This part I am not looking forward to.  So far, after 1 day of the tiniest bit of food that got in her mouth, poo remains the same.  I know this because last night H pooed in the bath.

Does anyone remember that T liked to poo in the bath?  Well, H is following in the brothers footsteps.  Except she does it 18464 times more often then he did!


It usually goes like this:

Fun, fun, fun!  Two babies in the bath!  Splish, splash, splosh!  Bubbles come from H’s butt.  Uhoh.  Is it just a fart?  Wait….  Nope, just a fart!  Splish, splash, splosh, fun resumes.  And then shhhhplurggge…  H giggles.  Wth?  Oh crap, H crapped in the bath.  ‘D!!!! quick H shat in the bath again!!!’  ‘T, time to get out!’  (rinse off T with water from upstream)  Throw baby #1 at husband.  Grab baby #2, rinse her off.  Rush off and get babies dressed for bed.  Come back to clean bath, by which time it has become a swamp of orange poo floaters.

Joy of joys.


One day in the (hopefully) not too distant future, my babies will learn that poos are best done on the toilet so their mummy needn’t wash poo out of baths no more.

The Shared Room – Part 2.


We left off here.  It was the first night of the babies sharing a room.  I published that post and woke up to a dead computer.  My old mate has now been revived and I need to update you on the shared room shenanigans.



That first night was pretty good.  I hardly slept a wink, as I was sure every little noise from either baby was going to wake the other one, so I was on a continual state of stand-by mode.  I was ready to run in there and pounce on the noisy baby, and to whip them away faster than you can say ‘omgdontwakeyoursleepingbrother/sister!’  D of course slept through.

H started stirring around 4am.  She probably would have settled herself back to sleep but I wasn’t willing to risk it.  I scooped her out of bed and boobed her.  T snored through the ordeal.  Once I got her back to bed I was able to snag myself an extra hour sleep before T woke up and started to call out, ‘Mum, Mum, Mum!’  This was at 5:30am, and I consider that to be a pretty good first night (for them anyway).

I always find it a little insulting that T wakes up and calls out to me, but the first thing he says when I drag my sleepy butt out of bed and into his room is, ‘Dad?’


The following day we had family visiting.  T’s aunty asked him to show her his room.  Off he ran and turned left down the hallway to his new room, where he ran up to his cot, banged it and said, ‘Bed!’  That said to me, he understood the room change and had accepted his new room.  This whole shared room thingy had to work because it would just be too hard on him to change back now.



I need not have worried.  Even the day time nap has been mostly smooth sailing.  H just does her own thing and T tries to talk to her until he gets bored of the one way conversation and chats to his bears for a bit, before falling asleep too.  We listen out for sibling rivalry on the baby monitor but there has been none.  What we do hear is this – ‘Haaadel, Haaadel, Haaadel, Haaaaaaaaadel.  Mum.  Mum.  Dad.  Haaadel.  (gurgle from H)  Kai?  Kai?  Haaadel.  Jai.  Cat.  Mum?  Haaadel.  Dad, Dad, Dad…….’  Silence.  Snores commence.



It is not perfect, they do wake each other up, but usually around general wake up time anyway.  But seriously, who has two babies and has perfect sleepers all the time anyway?  I have it good.  I know I have it good.  My babies are rock stars.


I have not done a lot with the room design yet.  I will get there eventually, but what I can say is that J has already turned his new room into a bomb site.  Seriously!  And he has only lived in there for 1 week!!!  Meh, dirty teenage boys!  At least he can now stop terrorising K with his ‘personal grooming’ habits.

Today I narrowly avoided divorce. Husband takes down and reassembles cot.


K and J are, as you know, 12 and 13.  Teenagers.  I have one word to say about that – Puberty.  And raging hormones.  And hair in weird places.  All that surging testosterone zinging all over the place can make current living arrangements unpleasant at time.  12 and 13 year olds sharing a room is tough.

It was always our intention to give the medium doodles their own room.  Teenage boys need privacy.  They need their own special happy zone to fantasise about Taylor Swift or whoever teenage boys are  masturbating over these days.  We just needed them to continue sharing until the babies were on a solid sleep all night schedule, and then we could move them in together and separate the boys.  I was thinking probably in the Christmas holidays.

Things unexpectedly came to a head recently.  Doodles had gone to bed.  I sat down at my computer for the first time all day to troll through Facebook and Pinterest – Mummy Porn, when K resurfaced saying he couldn’t sleep because J was masturbating.  Very disturbing.  In all honestly, he was ‘just pretending’ to annoy K (it worked), but he probably had a little happy time enjoyment (can’t believe I am saying this and it gives me the heebeejeebees just thinking about it) at the same time.


Crisis talks.

Me:  OMG K said J is pulling the pud!  WTF am I supposed to do with that information?

D: (Laughs at me) (jerk)

Me:  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

D:  Time to give them their own rooms I think.

Me:  (Panicking)  Boys need Privacy yes, I get it, but I’m not ready!  How will this impact MY SLEEP?  I fear change! (hyperventilate)


This all happened a few weeks ago and I have done nothing but think about the whole room switch around ever since.  T will move into H’s room and J will move into T’s.  Sounds simple enough right?  Wrong.

What happens to SLEEP?  Will the babies start to wake each other up at night?  Will this kick start the mother of all sleep regressions?  Will they stay up gossiping about boobs and Elmo into the wee hours of the morning?  And more importantly what am I going to do about redecorating the room?

You want me to share my room?  As long as you don't want me to share my blankie.

You want me to share my room? As long as you don’t want me to share my blankie.


So it is now the September holidays.  It is time for ‘Operation move Theo into Hazel’s Room’.  We thought we would move T first and give it a week to see how it goes.  If all goes well we’ll separate the boys then.  If it is a complete disaster and T and H party all night and I become the walking dead, then T goes back and we re-evaluate in a few months.

I’ve been talking to T about the big move for a few days.  I always ask him if he understands and he say ‘eees’.  Today I thought, no more talking.  Let’s just do this thing.  Now here comes the divorce part.


D is on holidays right, so I find him laying on the couch watching Ready Steady Cook.

Me:  Hun, can you please come and help me move the T’s cot into H’s room quickly before Judge Judy?

D:  What, you mean now?

Me:  Well, yes.  H needs a nap soon so now would be the time.


We start to carry cot out of the room.  I get my end through the door.  Other end gets stuck.  We try again.  Stuck.  Damn.


D:  It’s going to have to be pulled apart. (audible sigh)

Me:  Ahhh crap.  (sensing D’s frustration levels rising)  You go watch Judge Judy (best wife award) and I’ll do it.

D:  No I’LL do it.  (best husband award)


A very clumsy disassemble of the cot happens.  T is getting very excited.  He wants to help which is adorable but more of a hindrance.  We get all the pieces down into H’s room.  T comes too, as does H.  I have put this cot up and taken it down several times on my own so I know how it goes and I know it is easier with 2 people.  I offer to help.  D is grumpy (missing Judge Judy) and tells me the best way I can help is to take the babies away and he will do it on his own.  I comply.  Cue much banging and swearing from bedroom.  He is gone for a while, but I can hear him muttering under his breath and slamming stuff around on the baby monitor and I can feel his exasperation as he can’t get the stupidfuckinggoddamn screws in.  I take the babies outside and try to make them as quiet and angelic as possible.  Finally he is done and he comes back and gives me that look.  You know the one.  The ‘I’m going to kill you dead’ look.  He resumes couch position.  I tell him how wonderful and awesome he is and love on him.  T giggles and hugs him and H rolls over.  Marriage is saved.  Judge Judy is over.


Now that is all done, I get T to help me bring some of his favourite things into the new room and tell him he is going to sleep in H’s room now.  He is super excited and wants to get in and out of his cot.  In and out.  In and out.  Things are looking good.

Heading towards bedtime I begin to panic, but I needn’t have.  T went to bed quite happily.  He talked to himself and his bears for about 10 mins and then went to sleep.  I finished nursing H and then took her in.  T stayed asleep.  H was sleepy and murmured to herself for a few minutes and then she went to sleep too.  T didn’t wake up! No one cried, no one screamed, no one danced around in their cot like a crazy baby.

So far so good.  It’s been 3 hours and they haven’t woken each other up yet.  Fingers crossed for me please!  Tomorrow may be fun.  Not sure how we will go with the middle of the day nap.  That could be tricky.  Please if you have any advice or words of wisdom about babies sharing rooms please impart!

I will start taking nursery redecorating pictures soon and post when it is done.

Why leaving the house can be like a marathon event – long and arduous, with seemingly no end in sight.


I have a feeling my last post might have left you thinking that I have really got my shit together and am juggling these 2 babies with the skill of a circus clown.  Well, I am attempting to juggle, but doing so like a clown in training, who is constantly dropping his balls.

Sometimes, leaving the house in the morning runs smoothly.  Sometimes, like this morning, it goes like this:


T wakes up at 6.  This is fine, it is my preferred baby wake up time.  If he wakes at 6 he is nice and tired by 11, then he has a nap and is awake by 1 at the latest, which gives him enough time to play and get tired for bed time at 6:30.  He seems happy enough.  I change his nappy, have some cuddle time and a chat, make a coffee and give him the box of Nutrigrain to help himself to.  What?  Not acceptable parenting?  Either he eats them out of the box and then has a cup of milk or I make him a bowl.  No diff.  And besides, eating from the box is FUN!

K wakes up and says hello to T.  T decides he wants to play in the big boy room but J is still sleeping so K shuts the door.  Cue T’s first tantrum of the day.  T plants his butt on the floor in the hallway and screams.  H wakes up.  K says that T hates him.


Excited mummy voice, ‘T, can you hear that?  It’s H.  H is awake!  Shall we go and say hello?  Come on, let’s go and get H up!’

H is just wriggling around in her cot with the hiccups.  T runs in and sticks his arm in the cot to give her a good morning smack on the head and poke in the eye.  I get Princess H out of bed and give her a kiss.  T tells me he wants to give her a kiss too.  I bend down so he can rub his head on her head (that’s what he does when we say ‘give H a kiss’ – it’s very cute), I say ‘awww’ and T looks proud of himself.

Time to change H’s nappy.  I rub her belly 100 times, then I pump her legs up and down.  This is the morning routine guaranteed to make her fart and poo.  I find if I only rub her belly 50 times she only gets half of it out and then fills up her new nappy within minutes of changing it.  100 is the right amount of belly rubs it seems.  She can fart like a trooper.  She can give D and K a run for their money in the fart department.  When K was a baby, I didn’t wake up and listen to hear him breathing to see if he was alive, I just listened to hear him toot toot.

This is my poo face

This is my poo face

Once H has been changed I want to take her and T out to the lounge room so I can nurse H and T can play.  Well, T had other plans this morning.  He wanted breakfast.  I figured since he had already munched on some Nutrigrain it was only fair that he waited until H had her breakfast.  T did not like this.  Tantrum #2.  I just told him calmly that H had to have her milk and I would get his breakfast once she was done.  Then I left him to it on top of the steps while I got comfy on the couch with H and while she was nursing I read T’s favourite book aloud WITHOUT HIM.  T did not want to miss out so he came and joined me.  Mummy Wins.

2 happy babies

2 happy babies after boob and book


This is about when I start watching the clock and trying to time things so I can get out the door in a timely fashion.  Everything needs to be planned and often relies on H going down for her first nap (and staying asleep which can be hard with the boys and D all getting ready for school – it can get loud).  H can now last around 1 hour before she gets tired and that usually means that by the time T is eating his breakfast she wants to go to sleep.

I know I have said that I have got the sleep thing sorted, and I do have it pretty good most of the time, but I still need to make sure that H is in a calm and happy place for her to fall asleep in her own.  In the mornings this can be difficult to achieve, so I often bounce her with my foot in the bouncer while T eats breakfast.  This helps her block the chaos that is unfolding around her.  Once she is asleep or sleepy I move her to her room.  While she is napping I run around doing everything else I need to do to get organised for our morning outings – school lunches, get boys out the door, load of washing, pack T’s morning tea, get T dressed, get myself ready etc.

If everything goes to plan, I can sneak H out of bed and into the car to arrive at our destination by 9ish, just in time for her to wake up and want her next feed.  Sometimes, like today, it does not go to plan.


Did I mention that when J woke up he announced that he had to be at school early this morning for band practice?  This was immediately before he went and laid on the couch for half and hour…


Time to get T’s breakfast organised.  Toast, yogurt, fruit.  No problems, he is eating with gusto.  H is happily getting bounced staring off into ‘I’m getting sleepy land’.  Cue the beginning of ‘everything that can prevent H from sleeping’.  K can’t find this, J needs that, T wants some water, I need to poo.  Every time I need to get up, I stop bouncing H and her eyes ping back to AWAKE.

Finally she is close to sleepy so I chance it and pop her into bed.  I just knew that she wasn’t going to go to sleep by the time I left the room but thought the sleep fairies might be on my side and she might just drop off.  And she almost does.


So it is time for the boys to leave to get J to school on time for practice.  D is ready.  K is ready.  You guessed it, J is not.  He has not brushed his teeth, nor has he packed his lunch.  We rush him off to do his teeth and D does his lunch.  All this time, I have T ready to do the ‘wave goodbye routine’, where we stand at the garage door and wave the boys off as they reverse out.  If we don’t wave goodbye, T will crack the shits and the day is over before it begins.  Meanwhile, I hear H start to cry a little.

Teeth are brushed, lunch is packed, they are almost out the door.  D says, ‘hang on a minute J, have you printed out your Spanish assignment yet?’  Of course he hasn’t!!!  T is getting impatient, H turns it up a notch.  D prints out The assignment and they are almost out the door again.  J hasn’t packed his books.  FUCK.


H is really crying, I can’t wait any more but I can’t leave T up there because he will want to go in the car with them if I am not holding him for ‘wave goodbye routine’ or he will do a Indiana Jones dive under the garage door while it closes and roam free in the neighbourhood or just get run over.  All three situations are unacceptable.  So I take him with me.

‘Come on T, H is awake let’s go and give her a hug!’  As soon as we get to her room she fills her nappy.  Awesome.  ‘Oh T, H has done a poo! Time to change her nappy!’  I just get her pants off and D comes down to say goodbye.  Of course T wants to go with him so I have D shut the bedroom door and close T in with me.  T flings himself against the back of the door.  His world is over.  Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad waaaait fooooooor meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!! FUCK.


Mumma Bear does a song and a dance and something stupid to make him laugh and calm down.  Now the fun really starts.  Once again in happy mode T sets off on his daily quest to destroy and rearrange everything in his path.

He wants to stand in front of me while I change H and tries to push me out of the way.
He pulls the nappies out of the box under the change table and distributes them over the floor.
He drops the sudocream, baby moisturiser and powder into the cot.
Now he wants to hop in the cot.
Comes and gives H a pat on the head.
Drop sudocream, baby moisturiser and powder on the floor.
Tries to climb out of cot so I lift him out.
Pulls all of H’s dirty clothes out of the hamper one by one and gives them to me like he is helping me with the washing – oh thank you T, you are so helpful!
I pile these clothes up on the end of the change table.
He wants to hop on the nursing chair but can’t get up himself.
He wants Bear.
He wants to hop of the chair.
He hides the sudocream, baby moisturiser and powder in random places so I have to go on a treasure hunt next time I need them.
He wants to say hello to H.
He wants to put things in the nappy bin.  No T, that is DIRTY.
He wants to go back in the cot.
Drops blankies and swaddle from in the cot over the edge.
Get me out of of the cot!
Hands Mum 3856 nappies.  Just trying to help.
Pulls out 506 wipes.
Gives H a kiss.

And we’re done, finally!


I give H a quick feed and then she chills on the mat while T and I run around packing bags and brushing teeth.  At last we are ready to go!

Shoes on, strap H into her car capsule and am just about to put her in the car, when you guessed it – poosplosion.  FUCK FUCK FUCK.

‘Hey T!  Guess what? H has done a poo!  Come on, let’s go and change her nappy (and all her clothes)!  Oh what fun!’


At last we are ready to go.  Both babies are smiling and we go to hop in the car.  As I am putting H in, Chum-Lee jumps in too.  He just sits there and watches while I strap everyone in.  That is until, I go to grab him and then he duck under the back seat into the boot.  Too far for me to reach under and it’s too deep for me to reach over the seats.  Are you serious?  Could this morning get any more annoying?  I have to open the back of the van and drag the cat out, and I mean drag because he has dug his claws in and isn’t letting go!


Cat is out.  Kids are in.  Let’s get the F out of here!

All of this just to get our of the house and let T have a run around in the park.

All of this just to get our of the house and let T have a run around in the park.

Mother’s Day and Minecraft.


Yesterday was Mother’s Day and once I had gotten both babies to sleep I opted to try and catch a few extra zzzzs rather than write this post (it didn’t work by the way, I am eternally short on zzzzs).  So here is my big shout out to all the mummies, albeit a day late.  Mums rock.


mothers day

Pleasantries aside, let me tell you about my Mother’s Day.

It all started with a crying baby.  Nothing unusual there.  I dragged myself out of bed to nurse H.  She went back to sleep so I fell back into bed.  Cue T waking up.  Wonderful husband hops up to get T out of bed and leaves me to try and get some more of those elusive zzzzs.  So far so good, I like the way this Mother’s Day is starting.

H doesn’t sleep for too long before she is up and ready to start the day, but that is ok.  Both the big boys are on the computer playing Minecraft.  They say happy Mother’s Day to me without taking their eyes from the computer screen.  Again, nothing unusual there.  We have a couple of Minecraft addicts.  K especially.

Anywhoo, D is giving T his breakfast so I make a coffee and go to join them.  I get plenty of MD love and cuddles from D, and from T I get a vegemite smear on my pyjamas.  D disappears for a moment to I assume round up the boys to come and give me my gazillion presents but comes back alone and annoyed.

It seems that when tapped on the shoulder (he was wearing headphones), K slammed down the headphones, swung around all angry like with eyes glaring and says, ‘WHAT?!’  Then realising that he was going to get into some serious trouble followed it up with a hundred I’m sorrys and ran off to his room upset with himself for ruining Mother’s Day.

You see, In days gone by we have had many an issue with the boys regarding computer games.  They get all consumed by them and can’t think about anything but.  There have been plenty of games that we have banned and deleted when they got too wrapped up in them and were unable to function as normal human beings.  They cannot handle the frustrations when they die/can’t get to the next level/lose and get angry and flip out.

We originally liked Minecraft because you it wasn’t competitive, you couldn’t die, there is no nudity or swearing and no blood and guts.  You just walked around and built shit and planted trees and played with pigs.  But over time they have founds ways to make it a drama for our household.  Now they play Minecraft survival games on servers and watch Minecraft videos on YouTube and read forums.  We have again found ourselves dealing with banging mouses and kicking the back of the computer desks and little eyes that well up with tears of pre-pubescent angst.

Yesterday morning was like that, except K knows that we are on the verge of pulling the Minecraft pin and seriously his world would IMPLODE so he is trying to be super happy and calm to trick us into thinking that he is coping well.  However sometimes (like yesterday) he blows that cool facade which in turn makes Mumma Bear mad.

I found him upset in his room beating himself up for ruining my day, which of course he didn’t.  We had a  little heart to heart and have put a halt on playing on the servers and gave him a massive warning that he’s on his last Minecraft chance.  I left him to contemplate his actions and a little while later he emerges from his room with a letter…


Fucking priceless.  I love that kid!

D and the boys then presented me with my present.  I am now the proud owner of an ALDI coffee machine and it, even though it is not a big ticket machine it makes a damn good cuppa.  Everyone I know that has one loves it and I was jealous of them.  I feel all posh and shit when I make my morning coffee now.

Aside from a coffee machine I told D what I really wanted for Mother’s Day was to have a family photo take with us ALL in it.  Grudgingly he agreed, so in the afternoon when all the mums in my family came over for an afternoon tea, I had my brother take a few photos of us in the back yard.  It wasn’t easy, but after a whole heap of photos with at least one of the boys pulling a stupid face we finally got a half decent photo of our family.

The best one.

The best one.

The worst one.

The worst one.

A nice one of me with my first born and my last born.

A nice one of me with my first born and my last born.

We had a lovely afternoon tea with my Mum, my mother-in-law, my brother and sister-in-law and their baby.  Of course it was loud and crazy and messy, but the best times often are and we wouldn’t have it any other way.  Well maybe it would be super unicorn awesome if cleaning fairies came but we all know that they do not exist.  The only cleaning fairies I know are mums.  Happy (late) Mother’s Day!

My caesarean fears.


I may seem all happy happy joy joy about having my third c-section, but I’m not.  I mean, I am still happy to be going elective this time and not bothering with trying again for a VBAC.  I realised after T’s birth that I am just not meant to give birth vaginally, and am hopeful that my elective this time is going to be a little easier to recover from than an emergency section after a long and brutal labour.  To read about it, see this post.


What I mean is that I have some fears.


Last week I signed my consent forms for the section and for getting my tubes tied while they are in there.  Yes, 4 is enough.  I had to read the very long list of risk factors involved in my surgery.  The first risk that stuck out to me was also the last risk that was listed.  ‘This surgery involves the risk of death’.  Great.  Highly unlikely, but there it is.  I really freak out about kicking the bucket and leaving my family behind.  K especially.  J would still have a mother and a father.  T and LSP would be little and I am sure they would adjust and be none the wiser, but K is so wrapped up in me, I really don’t think he would cope if he lost me.  His heart would die a thousand deaths and I truly don’t know if he would ever fully recover.

Dying terrifies me.  It terrifies me because it is final.  I don’t believe there is a whole ‘you get to look over the ones you love’ thing.  Once you die, you don’t get the opportunity to watch how their life pans out.  I would not get to see D get through loosing me and find happiness again.  What would LSP look like?  I wouldn’t see K, J and T meet their first girlfriends.   No graduations, no weddings, no grandchildren, no career achievements, no nothing.  I hyperventilate a little just thinking of this.  You know how you hear of people who are terminally ill, say that they have come to peace with dying and are ready to go?  I don’t think I could ever say that.  I would never be ready to go.  I could never be at peace with not being there to make sure everyone is alright.

That is my biggest and greatest fear right there, and yes, I realise there is only the tiniest of tiny chances that I will die so it is pretty irrational.  For the most part, I know everything is going to be fine.  I’ve already had 2 c-sections and they have both been fine.  There is nothing to suggest it is going to be anything but fine.  It is only in the deepest darkest spaces of my mind that I think about these things.


My most realistic fear, is more of a concern really and that is about my recovery.  My first section I was much younger and it really was pretty easy.  T’s section 12 years later was a completely different story.  Recovery was a bitch.  A bitch with a headache.  A bitch with a headache and PMS wrapped in a turd sandwich.  I was on the hardcore painkillers which made me a bit loopy, but I dared not not take them because the pain was ridiculous.

I am a pretty independent person, and I hate sitting around and asking for help with things.  I found that whenever I tried to do too much, I hurt more and bled more.  Going into my 3rd section, I know that I have to take the time to recover properly and that means I will have to ask for help to do simple shit which is going to drive me a little crazy.

I remember how much it hurt when little tiny T would push his legs into my incision.  Well this time I will have another little person doing that and a big toddler to watch out for.  I am scared he is going to catch me unaware one day and jump on/bounce on/headbutt/elbow/launch off on my tummy and do me some damage.  At his age I don’t think he can fully grasp the whole ‘Mummy’s tummy hurts and you have to be gentle’ thing.  Tell him to be gentle with Chum-Lee and the next thing he is pulling his tail and poking him in the eye.


We all know that I am no domestic goddess, but I worry about how bad shit is going to get around here when I have to rely on D to take care of things around the house.  Like, when I go into hospital, he is going to have to do everything!  I really don’t think he gets what I do to keep things running smoothly.  I think he thinks vacuuming is a one time deal.  Do it once and you’re good to go for another month or so!  I don’t think he realises that when I am home with T, I am busy doing house stuff constantly.  It actually helps keep T busy and occupied as we make it fun and he ‘helps’ me.  When D looks after T, that is all he does.  But this is not a bitch session about D.  He is an amazing father and does plenty to make my life better.  I just get rather frustrated when I am able to get out of the house alone and have a wee bit of me time and I walk back in to find T’s lunch mess still all over the high chair and floor and crap everywhere.  Sigh.

Oh god, is this what I will come home to?

Oh god, is this what I will come home to?  Could be worse I guess 🙂


I still worry a little tiny bit that there is something wrong with LSP.  Something that the lady doing to 20 week scan caught an inkling of, but the later scan did not show.  Even though the repeat scan came back with everything normal, what if they missed something?


What if emotionally I can’t handle 4 children?  This recent bout of depression or pregnancy hormones or whatever it was has me a little freaked out.  What if that gloom and doom comes back?  It wasn’t a happy time for me and giving birth to my last child and my only daughter should be a monotonously happy occasion, what if I fuck it up and waste it due to hormones and depression?  I will never forgive myself if I waste a moment of this special time feeling sorry for myself.


Am I being ridiculous?  Over thinking too much?  This is what happens when you leave a heavily pregnant woman at home with all the kids in bed alone with her blog.

Everything will be just fine.  I know it will, you know it will, and even if it isn’t, I’ll just deal with whatever comes my way.  That is after all what we mothers do isn’t it?

Time for some light comedic relief, K and J style.


Last night I watched my techno children engaging with their techno world.  While both were watching TV, I also had K with his nose in his iPad and J glued to his iPhone.  I should also add that I was playing solitaire on my iPhone too.  I know, boring, but I like it.  I got a high score!

After a while the gentle drone of the background noise of the TV and the pings and tings of the iDevices were penetrated by the onset a giggles coming from K.  Giggles turned to laughs, which became belly laughs, which ultimately resulted in roars of uncontrollable hilarity.  I am talking laughing his balls, doodle, arms, legs and face off all at once.

J and I stared at him, then looked at each other.  J shrugs his shoulders and goes back to whatever he was doing.  Curiosity gets the better of me, and so I ask, ‘Watcha doing?’

Through the tears and wails of laughter he finally replies, ‘I’m looking (hahahaha) at (hehe) owl and cat (LOLOLOL) memes! (Bwahahaha!!!).’



Maybe a dumb question, but…  What’s a meme?


Turns out that memes are those pictures of cats or dogs or whatever with funny quotes and nonsense that float around cyberspace and end up on your Facebook wall.  You know, like that grumpy cat that has been circulating for a while now.  Endless source of entertainment.  Obviously my tech savvy children have to educate me on such terms.

So ultimately, K’s browsing the Internet and loosing himself in meme land resulted in him giving himself a full blown asthma attack.  So much so, that I had to pry his iPad out of his hands to get him to calm down while I pumped some ventolin into him.  Even so, long after the iPad had gone to bed, residual ‘after giggles’ remained, like when you remember something funny that happened that day and can’t help but laugh while all the people around you look on like you have lost your marbles.

This morning, J showed me an app he had on his phone where you can create YOUR OWN memes!  Yes, you heard me right, you do not need to have a grumpy cat though, you can use your own non-grumpy cat, or your children, or your good self.  Anything you can take a photo of really, and yes if you have no creativity what-so-ever, you can use the grumpy cat from the Internet too.

J and I set off on a secret mission to sneak up on K and take his photo.  We found him in his favourite spot – curled up on the nursing chair in T’s room, playing with, you guessed it – his iPad.

We made this:

kai meme


Gotcha K!

T Bear’s ‘Where is the Green Sheep?’ themed first birthday party!


When I say I themed the party, what I really mean is I made a ‘Where is the Green Sheep?’ cake and photocopied and laminated pictures of the sheep from the book and stuck them around the place.  That’s it really.  If I was really awesome and didn’t actually have a 1 year old to look after, I probably could have done a better job.  Also, if I didn’t leave organising the party to the last minute I might have been able to make it look all pretty and matching and shit like other mummy bloggers can.  I curse all the domestic goddesses with your perfectly themed parties and shiny, sparkling, smiling, clean children!

Aside from my lacklustre party theme planning, I must say that you don’t need to have a picture perfect party for it be a huge success.  Once I pulled my finger out of my arse and decided on what food I needed to prepare and set the wheels in motion, it all turned out surprisingly well.

I worked solidly for 3 days to prepare all the food.  Solidly of course means in between doing all-things-mum and many preg trips to the toilet.  So a few late nights cake decorating and preparing and freezing stuff all paid off.  I even managed to have a shower, put on make up and get everything ready before the first guest arrived (with minutes to spare), so I wasn’t running around like a sweaty, crazy, preggo during the party.  Goodness me, I actually was able to relax and enjoy the company and the fruits of my labour, and most importantly I was able to watch my little doodle enjoy his very first birthday party.

Of course he won’t remember a damn thing, but thankfully I had my brother there and he was able to help me out by taking pictures and video of the day for me.  Without him, there would be but a few crappy pictures (have I mentioned I hate my camera?  Probably once or twice…) and none with me, as I would always be behind it.  One day I will sit down with T and show him all the pictures and show him how much everyone loves him and came to celebrate his first year with him.

So I guess what you want to see are some pictures.  Or perhaps looking at random peoples photos make you want to shove a pencil up your nose?  If that were true you wouldn’t be here, so I will show them off anyway!


The Preperations.

The main party area before people arrived.  See the sheep stuck around on the glass doors?  My mad decorating skills.

The main party area before people arrived. See the sheep stuck around on the glass doors? My mad decorating skills.

K putting his mouth all over all the party honkers, or whatever those annoying as hell things are called.

K putting his mouth all over all the party honkers, or whatever those annoying as hell things are called.  Sorry to anyone who inadvertently put their mouth on K’s slobber.

K and J bored as bat shit, waiting for guests to arrive.

K and J bored as bat shit, waiting for guests to arrive.

The yummy stuff.  Savoury: Zucchini Slice (made by my bff, Cassie), Artichoke Dip and French bread stick,

The yummy stuff.  Savoury: Zucchini Slice (made by my bff, Cassie), Artichoke Dip, Vegetable Fingers and French Bread Stick,  Cheerios and Tomato Sauce (for any American readers out there, here in Australia we call little sausages Cheerios, not breakfast cereal) and Kabana, Cheeses and Crackers.  Sweet:  Fruit, Peanut Butter and Chocolate Balls, Mars Bar Slice, Milky Way and Teddy Bear Cars and of course the cakes (later)…..   D also fired up the BBQ and chucked some snags and onion on.


Some Fun Stuff.

T's little cousin Oscar enjoying his first taste of watermelon.

T’s little cousin Oscar enjoying his first taste of watermelon.

T just likes to pull apart his play mat, much to his

T just likes to pull apart his play mat, much to his mum’s dismay.

With his grandparents.

With his grandparents.

T showing Willow how to put the balls in.

T showing Willow how to put the balls in.

Me and T all dirty from face planting in the garden.  Cassie and Kathy in the background.

Me and T all dirty from face planting in the garden. Cassie and Kathy in the background.



Oscar and my brothers wife, Wendy.

Oscar and my brothers wife, Wendy.

K.  Look at me!

K. Look at me!


Cake Time!

The Cake!  Da Da Daaaaa!  Not quite as fancy as the one I found on Pinterest but I tried my bestest.  The flowers were originally white and yellow but they absorbed the green food colouring!  The sheep were a pain in my arse and took forever!  Interestingly, the chocolate cake was so delicious all the sheep went uneaten.  Turns out they were pretty fancy and time consuming decorations.  We considered keeping them and sticking some twigs in them, turning them into raindeers for Christmas.

The Cake! Da Da Daaaaa! Not quite as fancy as the one I found on Pinterest but I tried my bestest. The flowers were originally white and yellow but they absorbed the green food colouring. The sheep cupcakes were a pain in my arse and took forever! Interestingly, the chocolate cake was so delicious all the sheep cupcakes went uneaten. Turns out they were pretty fancy and time consuming decorations. We considered keeping them and sticking some twigs in the heads, thus turning them into reindeer for Christmas.

Waiting in anticipation...

Waiting in anticipation…

Birthday boys must wear party hats.  Even if no-one else does.

Birthday boys must wear party hats. Even if no-one else does.

Can you see the green sheep/  Why, he is fast asleep of course!

Can you see the green sheep? Why, he is fast asleep of course!

Happy birthday to you, my dear sweet little man!

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday my dear sweet little man, happy birthday to you!

No idea...  Maybe demonstrating how wide to open your mouth to fit an entire cupcake in.

No idea… Maybe demonstrating how wide to open your mouth to fit an entire cupcake in?

First eat the head.

How to eat a green sheep.  First eat the head.

Then pick off his wool.

Then pick off his wool.

Eat the marshmallows one at a time.

Eat the marshmallows one at a time.

Then eat the hat.

Then eat the hat.


The Gifts.

We were completely overwhelmed at the beautiful and generous presents T received.  Party favour bags in the foreground that I made.  They have a green sheep on them because I am that good.

We were completely overwhelmed at the beautiful and generous presents T received. Party favour bags in the foreground that I made. They have a green sheep on them because I am that good.

Won't bore you with all the present opening, just this one.  It was the last gift opened and by far the favourite of the day.  His reaction was beautiful.

Won’t bore you with all the present opening, just this one. It was the last gift opened and by far the favourite of the day. His reaction was beautiful.

T = Oh my, it's a grizzly bear and he is so soft, I want to eat his face off!

T = Oh my, it’s a grizzly bear and he is so soft, I want to eat his face off!

T = I will squeeze him and suck on him and he will be mine forever!

T = I will squeeze him and suck on him and he will be mine forever!

T = I love him so much!  Thanks Aunty Cassie!

T = I love him so much! Thanks Aunty Cassie!


I was on such a high from how well the party went, that as exhausted as I was, I was unable to get to sleep until the wee hours of the next morning.  D congratulated me on a job well done many times and I have to say i felt ping pong proud of my efforts.  It really was a wonderful day.  I am so glad we decided to have this party and am so thankful that so many of our friends were able to make it right before Christmas.


Happy birthday T, Mumma Bear loves you so much x




The big reveal. Da da daaaaaa!


Hello peeps, I have missed you so!  Unless you have been living under a rock, eating ants and lichen you probably have noticed that I have been quiet on the blogosphere.  It’s hard to blog honestly when you have been keeping a secret, and keeping a secret I have!  So rather than ramble on about meaningless nothings (how is that really different from the garbage I usually write about anyway?) while attempting to hide the truth, I opted for silence.  Well, the time has come to break it…


T has something to tell you.


That’s right!  I’m pregnant!  We are going to have another baby.  4 kids.  FOUR.  Ffffoooooooouuuuuuuuuuurrrr.


I know what the majority of you are thinking right now.  I’m nuts.  Well that is stating the blatantly obvious, but this pregnancy came as more of a surprise to us that it has to you.  With T, we tried to conceive for a long time and struggled with the evil, horrible, torturous bitch that is infertility.  He was the miracle baby that came along just in time before we began our first IVF cycle.

T was our last baby.  We each had a child of our own, and then we had T together to complete our family.  End of.  Or so we thought.  This shock pregnancy really has occurred against all odds.  Still breastfeeding, on the PILL and with D’s lazy-ass swimmers, it is a wonder how one little super sperm was able to get through all of those barriers to claim his prize.

We were gobbsmacked.  After some crisis talks about money and how we would cope financially, excitement set in.  We are having another baby!


It has not been easy this time around.  First trimester pregnancy is bullshit hard with a little baby under foot.  Morning sickness sucks balls, however, listening to some of my other poor, poor friends who are also preg with me, my morning sickness has been a walk in the park in comparison.  Amy, Katherine – hats off to you.  T has been hard work in previous weeks.  So cranky and needy.  In constant need of being held and with me not being able to go out of his sight for one second I have been feeling the frustrations.  Also, the exhaustion has been killing me.  It is farking hard work growing a human!  I still can barley make it through a day and am now into the 2nd trimester.  When am I supposed to be getting my energy back?  Seriously walking dead.

We kept it to ourselves for a few weeks, but slowly the word filtered out to select friends and family until it was time to tell K and J.  I bought the ‘I’m going to be a big brother’ onesie and dressed T in it after his bath one night.  The plan was to video K and J playing with T, and once they read the onesie message they would dance a song of joy and sing for the pixies of love and happiness.  Yeah, didn’t exactly go down like that.



What I can promise you, is that after some heartfelt tears, cuddles and words of reassurance from Mum and Dad, K has come around and both boys are now thrilled about the new baby on the way.  Phew.  Dear sweet little K was concerned about me.  He was worried about how I would cope because he hates it when I am upset or stressed.  Bless his beautiful little heart.  J on the other hand, was all ‘whatever’ from the start, which means ‘I’m happy’ in J talk.


I am sooooo happy and excited to finally get this out!  I have so much to post about that has been backlogged from the last few weeks, which I will fill you in over the coming days.  Still struggling with tiredness, so late nights are not my friend and I am trying to avoid them as much as possible.  I am working on getting these posts out during T’s nap times on the days which I am not working.  What this means though bitches, is that I have to sacrifice one of MY nap times!  The things I do for you and my blog!


Peace out, from me and LSP.  That’s what we have called the baby.


*** What the fuck is up with my camera?  It takes the WORST videos imaginable!  And what was that weird underwater sound that happened half way through?  I’m sick of my camera, it sucks.  Apologies for the crap video experience***