Vent On A Shedless Man

Me and my man fight all the time and there are some definite reoccurring themes. My most common complaint is that since he moved in my space has been totally impinged. It’s a bit difficult as it’s only a small house really but you must understand every one of my planets is in Cancer and the comfort I feel in the space in my home means A LOT!! I know living with a bloke is hard at the best of times but this is how it is when you look around here:

Greg made himself a still, so under my coffee table in the lounge room there are…counting, counting, about 45 bottles of various alcohol in all different stages of completion – some getting carbon filtered, some waiting to be mixed with essence…and looking around there is also a bottle at my feet under the computer table, 3 on the bookshelf and 2 underneath the breakfast bar. The main lot he has under the coffee table he has tried to make look kind of neat and are jammed in and partially concealed with a sit-up-bench-piece-of-exercise-equipment-thingy. But that just leads to another cause for contention.

My car sits out in the rain night after night because the carport is jammed up with weights and a weights bench and all those other things that guys bring into your life. Eskies, toolboxes, tackle boxes, fishing rods, spearing gear, camping swags… And of course his alcohol still…UGH! I barely even drink!! For a while there he thought it was hilarious to leave his beer tops all over the place and hidden under things for me to find because he knew how much it gave me the sh*ts!

Plus he makes great big dead patches all over the lawn wherever he decides to park his boat!

He’s too scared to get on the end of the shovel to fix the gravel in the driveway or dig out the drainage, he thinks we need, wait for it, a BACKHOE to do these jobs but he sweats his guts out on his weights bench every day.

I resent that there is nowhere in the house for just me. I’ve got no little space of my own which I could make just nice, for me, the way I like it. To be alone, with my thoughts! The only time I get to be alone with my thoughts are times like right now on the computer with Bub asleep and the drier on, trying to ignore all the sh*t and boys toys around me! And then Greg likes to have a go at me for being on the computer too much! Well!! And that’s just the start of another bunch of stuff that gets to him about me. But he’ll have to tell you that, I’m not about to vent about myself!

Computer says "No"

Motherly instinct is alive and well! In the early hours of this morning I saved Bubby from clanging his on the floor without even opening my eyes! I’m pretty pleased with myself to say the least. He’d finished a feed and rolled on top of the pillow that usually acts as a barrier between him and the edge of the bed. Now I was aware that I should have shifted him, but my arm was pinned underneath him so I told myself to wake up if he started stirring. Next thing I knew was that I had a hold of his ankle and was hauling him one` handed back up onto the bed! His little noggin bump-bumped on the timber bed frame on the way but otherwise he was UNSCATHED! YAY – Just the way I like him!!

Damn I’m quick! Being an athlete Greg thinks my reflexes are HOT! Just last night I dropped a slippery peeled mango but it only fell about an inch before I caught it again – that was just plain sexy as! Imagine if he had of seen me catching his baby by the ankle as he disappeared over the edge of the bed with my eyes closed! I’d be like a Hollywood siren!

I weed on the stick yesterday evening. Computer says “No”. Poor Greg was enjoying his fantasy that I was pregnant. Every little period pain-like twinge I’d complain of he’d be saying things like “that’s because Arlo’s having a growth spurt!” That’s his name he’s got picked out. To tell you truth I’ve got one for a girl. He’s such a beautiful Dad I dunno if I can deny him. I’ve got this little voice in my ear going “Go on! Be a Devil.” (Actually it’s his mother!)

Suckn Face

It seems with every big sleep Bubby wakes up with a fresh new set of skills, or a new fetish anyway. He’s very proud of having mastered the knack of clapping and if you hold out your hands flat and say “clapping” he gives you some low fives – what a genius! (It’s so cute the way he blinks every time you clap and then blinks a few extra times after you’ve finished – okay not so much a genius...) And he’s developed this new way of communicating. It sounds like a hybrid cross between a cough and a cackle and he’s really got to force it out. If you do it back to him he gets way more into it and goes even louder.

He gets really crazy for smooches sometimes. His latest inclination for kissing has been to suck hard on a big mouthful of my cheek – he gets the entirety of my little steak medallion cheek into his mouth and gives it a good ole suck! What a crazykoo-kie. He’s a little Gobbledoc the way he goes at the Boobie too. Sometimes I think I starve him the way he goes crazy for it. I’m kinda glad he hasn’t got any teeth yet!

Izzy is going to his second HipHop dance class today. He likes to take off the dancers he sees on Tellie and he’s good too, but I told him you have to master an art before you can make a parody.The Yoga instructor is on holidays too so I took up a Funk/Fitness dance class instead. I didn’t get the giggles this time! I was too preoccupied with trying to keep up! I’ve got the natural funk but it’s hard to contain it into a structure that matches what everyone else is doing! Especially when I’ve had no formal dance training. Wait, I have dappled in Salsa and Bellydancing…

I’ll get there though, don’t you worry… Greg’s going to pick up a HPT today. I’m whimpering, I’m scared.

BFP or too many Brownies

I’m still waiting for my second period since Bubby was born 7 months ago. According to my former 29 day cycle it’s way overdue. If I’ve ovulated again there’s a possibility that I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to think of that. Maybe I just had a hormone surge and it was just one little radical freelancing egg. Greg was asking if I had a spare HPT in the draw but I’d probably be to chicken to do it at the moment. He’d be stoked but I keep thinking of the Mums of three I’ve seen on talkshows lately: “Help me Doctor Phil, I used to be a blond bombshell. I spend all my time cleaning faces and food off the walls. I used to have time for me! Please Doctor Phil I haven’t been on a date with my husband in 2 years!” It’s just so pleasurable looking after one baby at a time. I don’t know how well I’d cope with two.

I’ll tell you I’m not a big fan of my next door neighbour’s singing but I’d much prefer it over her cursing! Our dog’s in trouble again. I can’t even let the mutt of the chain, it finds it’s way over there to pee on their veranda everytime! I don’t have to imagine how p*ssed off she is about it – she lets fly! God – I’d be ropeable too! Who wouldn’t? I never should have been a dog owner I admit that but I really thought that Izzy could have done with a companion – then I fell pregnant. Does anyone want a black F2 Labradoodle that desperately needs relocating?? I just gave him a bodgy haircut so he’s looking a bit mangy. But it’s not mange, I promise. But he’s a sh*t dog all the same. I’m not kidding anyone am I?

Me and Izzy made chocolate brownies last night. They’re so delectable but there’s no chance of imagining that they might not be so bad for you when you cook them yourself and see what goes in them! Dark chocolate, butter, sugar… it’s almost as bad as eating a big lump of icing! So rich they give you a gutsache too. (No spellcheck, I don’t expect you to know what a gutsache is!!)

Grossology

Looking after a Bub creates the need to do plenty of gross things. And I’m happy to do most. I smile merrily even while scrubbing out Anakin’s pooey bum under the tap and when his little date is red and calls for some digital cream application. It’s okay when a bit of poo flies into my face when I’m hosing out nappies. (Only once this week – all the rest went in the potty! YAY!) Or when I get a warm lap full of wee.

I dig out the little crusties in his nose with my little finger, (which I must say is getting a lot harder these days as he can grab my hand and yank it away). And dig around in his ears.

I eat his left over food that’s already been in his mouth just to get rid of it. And I kiss his drooly little mouth a trillion times a day. I tolerate it kind heartedly when all of my personals get chewed up and drooled on.

I don’t mind being spewked on. And of course being a mum, you have to retrieve odd bits of food from down the backs of throats and roofs of mouths to stop your youngster choking. But there’s just one thing I know I just can’t hack. It’s an unusual one and it might seem like no biggy to you, but I just can’t have soggy bread rubbed on me!! I will not do it! IT’S FERAL!!

Oh the Shame

Mum has 12 brothers and sisters! She is the 9th child in a family of 13! (As you can imagine I have about 58 thousand first cousins getting around the place.) They all emmigrated from Belgium and she is going back there during her long service leave this year for a holiday. So I’ll be taking her Year 3’s for 3 weeks in June! Bubby – how will I get by without you???! Anakin will be almost turning 1 by then so I’m assuming he won’t be so dependant on the Titty. He’ll be cared for by my sister who is home schooling her youngest. She loves him nearly as much as his Mum n Dad n Bruss so he’ll definitely be in good hands. It’s ideal as she lives only a few minutes down the road from the school so we’ll get a chance to see each other during lunchtimes I hope!

Oh wait, now I’m going to have to face…dant dant dantDant. Miss Wattie! Now, I love the old girl but I think she targeted me for a good dose of private humiliation in the last school newsletter. (Not public because she didn’t name names of course, but I just know she must of dobbed on me!)You see, I just happened to be driving past the school at home time so I pulled into a park just opposite the bus lane where Izzy’s bus was right in view. There were kids on the bus all ready but it was pelting down rain and I couldn’t tell wether he was one of them or if I could get his attention if he was. Now I didn’t want to get Bub soaking wet and it was only going to take me 5 seconds to skip across the bus lane, squeeze in between the buses and grab him. So, I left my door open for Bub to see me and did just that! Right into the loving arms of the Teacher Aide/Bus Driver/Bus Stop n Road Safety Protocols Chief Watchdog, Miss Wattie. I was in too much of a rush to hang around for a drilling! I just managed “But, but, gotta go Baby’s in the car!”

But she got me in the end. Come Thursday this is how it read:

Parents have a crucial role in ensuring that proper use is made of the crossing in the car park at the front of the school…Walking across the bus lane and between the buses is not only a bad example for the children but also a very dangerous practice…Please resist the temptation to take this shortcut in the interest of our children’s safety…

How small did I feel? I’m obviously not over it as I had a dream about her last night – my desire to rectify the matter is acting up on me!

Now that I’ve made my public confession and taken ownership of my mistakes – yes, including leaving Anakin alone in the car for a quick half a second, maybe my conscience can rest.

Will You Click Here?

I was getting excited at having some ladies actually reading my dairy when I discovered that my own clicks get added too! Man – I’ve probably reentered my own dairy about 400 times to add extra details, correct my spelling of Nanna (is it right now??), make sure the corrections actually took place, edit my photos… Anyway if you’re actually reading this right now I’m waving excitedly at you with a big grin on my face okay! And hopefully it’s not just my stupid face waving back at me…

My in-laws stayed on the weekend and when Greg’s family is around that means I’m surrounded by people that are a good foot – foot and a half taller than me. They’re friggin gargantuans, I think they border on having Gigantisms. They take up so much room! I feel like little Thumbalina in the land of Giants!

Actually Greg being 2 meters tall and me being a little umpallumpa is one of most obvious difference that just illustrates a world of differences that lie between our life experiences and our intrinsic natures. Frankly I dunno how we survive together in the same domicile let alone seeking each others company. I’ll give you some examples.

I’m a reader. Greg says things to me like, “At work tonight I’m going to try and finish that article that I started reading last week, it’s all about Puff Daddy.” I say “Good for you Babe!”

As a result of his literary experience being pretty much taken up on FHM and bodybuilding magazines I’ve got a better vocabulary than he has. But instead of learning some new words he makes fun of me. “Hey everyone, have you ever heard anyone use “sojourn” in a sentence? See! Nobody ever uses that word!” Okay Greg just you and all your semi-retarded friends just stick together, stick to what you know…

Greg reads everything aloud just to prove that he can!

However Greg is an excellent viewer. He gets all the plots and subplots and every twist and turn of everything he watches. I’m a bit thick in this department half the time and he always has to explain to me what’s going on.

Besides living with me and a very brief stint with a mate Greg lived his entire life in one house – his family home. The thought of that nearly makes me hyperventilate. I moved out of my Mum’s when I was 14 and out of my Dad’s when I was 16 and then many adventures took place all over the countryside.

I was raised up on music like Pink Floyd, Moody Blues and Canned Heat and in my early teens progressed to Lou Reed, Jim Morrison and Tim Buckley. He was raised on “I wander, today, in the hills, Maggie”…and progressed to Lionel Richie and Snoop Dogg.

He was a sports jock, I was a misfit!When he’s hot, I’m cold. He likes to sleep with his chest covered. I like to sleep with my legs covered.He likes to cultivate weeds, I like to prune!

He likes to gather clutter, I like to eradicate clutter.

He likes to snooze at every given opportunity, I just want to (smother him in his sleep) stay up deep into the night.

Greg is really good at staying in touch with all his mates and I’m pretty bad.

The list is really never-ending. But hey they reckon opposites attract because when you have completely different genetic material you make a stronger, healthier baby. And that we did!

Speaking of babies Anakin is 7 months old today. Hip-hip-hurray!! And if we were more diligent and took him to the toilet whenever he got wiggly he’d be completely toilet trained! “You’re smart and smart and smart!”

Memories

We went to visit my Nanna and Granddad yesterday. They’ve only just finished getting their dining room renovated, their kitchen refitted and new lino’ down since the aftermath of cyclone Larry! What a drawn out saga that was.I hope they are around long enough for Anakin to be able to remember them and that he gets to learn how to walk around the circular coffee table the way all the cousins did. My GreatGrans all made it well into their nineties so I’m hoping they’ll be kickin’ on for ages yet.

My Nanna and Granddad are the best around. They looked after us a lot when we were growing up and we have the best memories of spending the school holidays there. When we compared it with home their place seemed like a veritable palace to me and Nick – I mean they had carpet! And you didn’t have to hook up the tellie to the car battery with alligator clips or get a fire started to have hot water for a shower! We called their bathroom “Hollywood”.

We never had to fend for ourselves at Nanna and Granddad’s – Nanna was never to busy to serve up a good square three meals a day! We’d always take a drive to the creek for a picnic. Me and Nanna would sing all these old show tunes and ditties on the top of our lungs and sing out to passing cars “What’s wrong with ya? Have a go ya Mug!” My sister cringed and thought we were nuts – she had her little spot on the rocks where she would sunbake called “Calm Headquarters.” I’d have a brain freeze headache before too long from the glacial temperatures of the freezing cold water but Nanna would paddle about for ages!

I’ll never forget the way she would always creep her hand around into the back of the car and find one of our skinny little ankles to hold on to or rub. And how they would always make us go for a drive to the beach and we’d have to share a backseat with their stupid red setter “Barsha” who we secretly hated because he would walk right over the tops of our laps to stick his head out of one window, then the other, and his drooly tongue and chops would be flapping around in the wind. Yuk!

She’s told every one of my boyfriends the way we used to do Jazzasize in front of the tellie and I’d always pee myself laughing. I did too.

I love the sound of Ritchie Beno’s voice because it reminds me of being a kid and falling asleep on the carpet in front of the cricket with Granddad tickling my back

They both had a tendancy to come at us with the vacuum cleaner and suck our hair up, right to the scalp. And Nanna was always finding reasons to make us take asprin.

Me and Nick would spend hours on end drawing at the table, I’d draw pictures of Fonzie and Michael Jackson and she’d draw models like the ones on the front of sewing patterns. We made Nanna hire out Annie and Polyanna about 60 times. She should have been in one of those old time musicals herself. She’s got the sweetest voice and she used to strum along on the ukulele and do the hulu hula.

She’d take us up to the golf club for a packet of Samboy chips and all the oldies would go on about my eyelashes and call me Shirley Temple. I would’ve preferred Annie!

Luxurious days without Mum telling us to weed around the fruit trees or empty the scraps or feed the chooks or pick the pawpaws… In Izzy’s words “Oh The Glory of it!” Good times, good times…I hope I can create great memories like mine for my own grandkids one day.

Just Ask Already!

How’d you go for Valentines Day? Got a chocolate headache yet? I got woken up with my usual good morning kiss just before Greg headed out for work. (It’s never a real nice one coz I’m in the habit of puckering up the tightest I can so he doesn’t have to be subjected to my morning breath. So my lips kind of resemble my eyes – very reluctant to open up – scrunched up in fact.) And a “Happy Valentines Day Baby.” He got a “Happy Valentines Day Baby” in return – except I didn’t say it as coherently as him. Poor man! I’ll have to try and find him something today.

Talk about Neglectarinos!One of these Valentines Days I’m expecting a proposal. I think it’s coming, one of these days. Sheesh – six and a half years and a baby later…whatdoyereckon!! He talks about the details of “our wedding” like he’s already asked the question!! “We’ll have to get my friends from Brissie up for our wedding Babe…” “When I put the shed up, we can have the reception in it. I’m sure Auntie Janice will cater – she’s a good cook!!” “It’ll be good to wait until Bubby is a bit older – then he can be the Ringbearer. How cute would that be?!” I shake my ring finger at him and say, “Do you see any diamonds??”Anyway, I’m worse. I jump ahead of myself even more. When I’ve got the sh*ts it’s – “I want a divorce!!”....but not really

A Perfect Fit

My Bubby is a sweet and cheeky monkey – just like Curious George. What a little luvikins. These are some of the quirky little things he’s into:

He holds one hand aloft, gazes at it thoughtfully while he clenches and unclenches his fingers.

Sometimes he blows instead of sucking on Titty, then wriggles around blowing big spitty raspberries anywhere he can – even on knees!

He’s learnt that choking and gagging noises get my attention double quick – so he makes them and then laughs at me when I jump to his attention in a panic.

He seems to wave goodbye and hello now but I’m not sure if it’s just his arms flapping involuntarily because he is excited to see someone.

When he's intent on communicating he puckers up his lips and sucks and blows air in and out. (He can almost whistle!) And his facial expressions dance around.

He is getting so good at picking up the fruit from his tray – he can even get little blueberries and sultanas into his mouth.

He gets the giggles at his funny brother and when he’s overtired. And he’s got a kind of inward laugh like me, one that doesn’t make much noise but is just this kind of sucking-in, winding-up sound, not like his Daddy who has a loud “haw-haw-haw!”

He loves to make singing noises and has the cutest voice and he makes that Indian war-cry sound, but more of a drone, when we clap him on the back.

He gives me the yummiest dreamy-eyed cuddles when he wakes up from a big sleep.

He's used to lots of attention and finds it most unusual when people don't look at him and interact. So he stares at them until they do! He never blinks! He takes everyone in with his big wide eyes.

He makes me laugh when he has a good old stretch and pushes his belly right up in the air and when we turn the light off and you can see his eyes ping wide open trying to see in the dark - he looks shocked! And when he loves me so much for having his yummy titties and he goes suck-suck-suck and then looks up for a big smile. Suck-suck-suck - smile... Ahr makes your heart melt..

It’s so beautiful to catch him admiring one of us. He was certainly born into the right family – he’s a perfect fit. We all adore him and I’m pretty sure he feels the same.

It’s incredible to think of conception and at any other time we would have made a different little person – the endless possibilities…but you know I really don’t believe it. I just think you are meant to have the precious little baby you do.

He likes us to monkey grip arms when he’s having a feed – I love that. And I love that his hair’s getting thicker each day – I can actually fuzz it all out now and give him a little mini mohawk. I love that he admires my Gustav Klimt prints more than I do.

I love everything – I’m just in love!

The Incident

Well it’s risky business using the computer today, it sounds as if it’s going to blow up – it’s making so much noise trying to keep itself cool I’m worried I won’t hear Bubby when he wakes up in the next room! It’s so hot I think my couches are sweating!

(Pause to press my ear to the wall.)

I just had to tell you this:

About a year ago we were traveling home from a visit to Poppy’s, where Izzy spent the day knocking around with his cousins out in the bush. It was night time when we were driving home and Izzy began complaining that he was itchy and thought he might have a rash. Having a good feel around and with the help of the interior light he discovered he had a little tick gliched onto his forey. Poor kid had a painful wait until we reached a servo so I could park in some good strong light to pinch it off! Izzy lamented loudly all the way home about his poor wang and that he’s never been through anything so painful in his life, (he’s prone to exaggeration and dragging out a good story), while I nearly drove off the road from laughing too hard (this happens to me a lot with Izzy in the car!)Anyway this little tick episode has become known to us as “The Incident”. Every now and again I say to Izzy “Hey Iz, how ‘bout “The Incident” and it sets off another barrage off “Oh My God my poor self…rah rah rah…”

And it almost happened to Bubby today! I’d set up his wading pool out on the grass for the first time rather than inside on the lino and he was having a good old splash about. When we’d had enough of that I came inside and plopped him down on his folded nappy only to notice there was a little bit of something on his bolleys. I figured it was a piece of the dried grass he’d been trying to eat or some of the all-spice he’d been choking on. But it was a bloody tick!!! Just crawling on his privates! I’m so glad I’ve got eagle eyes and was paying attention. Poor little fella and his poor d*cky-bird – could’ve been real bad!! Those ticks must hone in on the warmest spots they can find. Now when Izzy gets home from school I’ll be able to tell him that there was almost a repeat of The Incident!! dant! dant! dant! DANT! DANT! DANT! (This could trigger off frequent compulsive head to toe examinations!)

The Big Yummy Weekend

Bubby’s having a snooze, Izzy’s off to school, the washing’s on, so I’m sitting here enjoying my morning pineapple, mango and grape smoothie and reminiscing over our lovely, long weekend away.Thanks to awesome generous friends we landed two nights accommodation at one of the glorious Northern beaches. (You know I will repay you with pancake breakfasts when you can keep them down!) The weather turned glorious to match. Not that we noticed that much because we spent a lot of our time holed-up in the room with the aircon’ cranking, eating the food supply we brought, watching discovery, doing crosswords and snuggling with our crazy little man – when we sufficiently messed up one bed we just switched to the other one!

Anakin has been winging a lot lately because he can’t decide which parent he wants to catch a ride on so he was delighted to have us in close proximity in such a confined space. And Greg was just as delighted and did his goofy Happy-dance a lot! (Except he recently cut his hair and it doesn’t look quite so goofy without his white-mans ‘fro)

I didn’t even shop! (Except to buy groceries, and magazines for my poor hospitalized girlfriend.) I wish I could say it was because I am being true to my belief in the benefits of non-accumulation but it was mainly because Greg hates to browse. And my shopping buddies are either away or incapacitated.

Over the weekend Bubby got to visit two Great Nanas, an Uncle, Great Aunties and Uncles, honourary Aunties and Uncles and second cousins! He is such a personable little chappy, everyone just loves him!

Had dilemmas with the car as we were about to leave for home but another lot of beautiful friends came to the rescue (Pancakes at my place anytime!) and helped us out with a vehicle so Greg could chase up parts and I could get to Rusty’s for fruit and veg’. I was about to flip-out at the thought of missing my beloved markets, turns out I’m not as flexible and adaptive as I thought myself. But Greg showed me up with his calmness and got things happening (slowly…but surely), he was even singing as he was fixing the car!

So we got home a day late but in time for Family Night. (We share a big yummy dinner and dessert with Mum and my sister’s family every week and either have a night swim or play table tennis. This week had to be at my sisters as she wasn’t about to miss Biggest Loser or as we affectionately call it - The Telletubbies!) Where Bubby was showered with even more loving and kisses from his family – because he’s the BIGGEST YUMMY OF ALL!

Stupid Undies

Have you ever found a really good, comfy style of knickers so you just by 10 pairs of them and wear them everyday? Well that’s the way I roll. Kaiser black bikini briefs – they work for me. Or should I say worked. They’re all worn out now and need replacing with another fresh batch, but do you think I can find them in stock anywhere. No. Always happens to me! Comfy undies, yummy muesli, the best green tea…I finally find a product that I love that really suits me and then they take it off the shelves! Aghrrr!

So I decided to go out on a limb and try something a little different. I bought about five pairs of those cheeky little French knickers that expose the lower half of your bum cheeks. Like a mid rift top – but for your bottom. Literally half-arsed. They look real cute but do you think I can get use to the feeling of them riding up into my bum crack – Nuh, no can do.

So I moved on from there and decided on a whole set of hipster bikinis. Man! Am I the only person around with pubes these days! They’re bloody size 10-12 and there’s still not enough fabric to cover me up! (My beauty therapist friend is on a mission to get me to go for a brazilian, but all I can imagine is that scene from Something About Mary “Look out! We’ve got a bleeder! That’d be me! I’m European OKAY!) So I get some more, that I think are kinda cute – at least they feel decent and cover up the expanse of my undergrowth. Anyway Greg sees me wearing them, laughs and points and goes “Granny undies!”

What am I going to do? They all look fabulous on the hanger and then you get home and they suck AND BLOW!! I’d give up except there kind of essential aren’t they. I tell ya, if I was a bloke I’d be freeballing it right now!

Aparigraha

One of Yoga’s Universal Principles that has struck a chord with me lately is Non-Accumulation. I want to control my urge to be such a part of the consumer society. On one of the current affair shows last night the presenter followed a mother on a shopping trip where she spent over $3000 dollars on an outfit for her university aged daughter. The presenter seemed to approach the story like it was a run-of-the-mill, everyday occurrence. You’d think she would have asked the girl “Do you realize that much money could support an entire family for a good month or two?”

This story preceded one on celebrities and how they are the barometer of style and indicate to the young people of today the “must have” items for the season. What a load of …! They might be referring to a certain percentage but I’m positive there are loads of kids out there who couldn’t give a toss about what mobile phone Paris was using this week or what frock Misha Barton endorses! They should do a story on the kids who reinvent second hand clothes and wear no-name brands as a conscientious choice. That was us! We were never envious of the “Reebok Girls” at school – we just thought they were deluded clones.Since then, I seem to have become guilty of the mindless over consumerism that Current Affair programs seem to like to normalize. I bought a Nike yoga mat and I’ve only done Yoga twice!!!

My god, Izzy has all the mod-cons and toys a kid his age could want and I don’t believe he’s any happier than he would be without a good portion of it. I mean every kids got to have a certain amount of cultural capital – a pushy, some sports equipment and great big box of Lego (and maybe a game of Simpson’s’ monopoly and some crafty of course), but he’s just weighed down with all this extra stuff! I’m determined to recycle all of Izzy’s toy collection for Anakin. That way I can lessen my guilt of supporting the multinational corporations and the burden I have put on the worlds resources by purchasing all this stuff in the first place!

I want to do a great big clean out and recycle anything we don’t need. To just leave the top quality essentials. I want our house to reflect the Japanese minimalist look - the 'just moved in look' not the 'lived in look'. And I never want to forget my green bags again!!

BACK WHEN CHIPS WERE 30cents

I’ve been getting a bit nostalgic and remembering back in the day when you could buy Bobbies and Curls at the local swimming pool. They took you forever to eat because they were so hard. Remember them? Curls were the caramel flavoured straps covered in a layer of chocolate and were always my favourite and Bobbies were the same but white on the inside and peppermint flavoured. They were my sisters favourite. I was always the guts-ache that finished everything first and she was always the generous one letting me have half of anything she had left. (Get this – we used to eat each others bubble gum if there was any flavour left . Talk about sisterly love. Sweets must have been few and far between! Hey that reminds me – remember Spurt??)

These days, Izzy informs me it’s Ghostdrops and Warheads and Wicked Fizz – sounds bad and tastes even worse! Least you can still buy Redskins and Milkos! Listen to me, I must need a piece of chocolate or something!

Izzy and his cousins have there own vocabulary of lingo that they alter and add to over time. If they don’t know a word for something they just make one up that sounds right or use another one in a new context.

A “schline” is the d*cktoggy things that wrestlers wear to keep there schlongs in.
“Neckrubbers” are the people of faith that you see worshipping on early morning weekend television.
“Biggy” is short for Big Guy and is their name for Dad.
“Freshly or Tender” is good.
“Blame Zane” is what they say when they are trying to weasel out of something.
“Hey Choge” is a friendly greeting.
"Gliche" is to cling onto something.
"Neckle" is a neck.
"Gobbly" is a wobbly fat neckle - like Harolds from Neighbours.

You need to know a bit of kidspeak to get by around here. Thery're a funny little posse.

Daddy's Bad Seeds

Greg, Baby, come back!! I think I’m going to lose my Festi’ down the huge rut in the driveway where all the gravel has been washed away. And we’ve got some serious plumbing problems going on! Too much rain and not enough drainage!! I think the dryer is about to explode and the house is going to float away down the road! I hope you can find us when you get home, if we keep still too long we might be covered in mildew!

Greg spent the night yachting around the Sydney harbour, pubbing and clubbing with the Groom n Groomsmen. I asked him before he left to look after his sperms ie – don’t drink too much and lay off the cigars. I thought if I put it that way he might be more inclined to oblige. With a very croaky voice, he informed me this morning that when he gets home the current batch will have to be cleared out n then he’ll work on building up a fresh supply of healthy ones. Mmmm… He’s never been too good at avoiding drunken revelry.

Seeing as Anakin has only recently turned 6 months old and is demand breastfed, I’ve only offered him food to keep his life interesting with small samples of tantalizing flavours. Mainly fruit – carambola, lychee, mango, grapes, cherries and berries… Recently we began offering him Bellamy’s organic baby rice and oats, and pureed roast veg’ all of which he loves! Considering the amount he eats in one go and the way he practically launches himself onto the serving spoon I’ve decided he needs to be offered a good solid three meals a day. The little starvin’Marvin!

He’s a little eatin’ drinkin’ machine! A real solid nugget. And strong! He’ll do his body-building Daddy proud! He scoots around in his walker wreaking havoc! And when he’s hanging off the hip he leans as far out as possible and grabs anything that is in reach. He pulls whole trays of mangoes onto the ground and the dish rack full of washing-up into the sink. He doesn’t bother with a single item on the shelf – he just goes the whole shelf!

But despite his brawn he has the most beautiful angelic sing song voice. Sounds just like the girls in Vice City when they are getting their cars stolen!

I'm Staying Home Okay!!

I resent being questioned when I’m going back to work when I feel like my baby’s still fresh out of the womb! God! I’ll get there…one day…OKAY!! My priority is breastfeeding Anakin for as long as I can and establishing and maintaining a consistent homelife for him. At home. With his Mummy!I copped the same flack while Izzy was little. I was raising him on my own, while getting through a four year degree, he was never put into any care, and I still had people asking me “oh, and where do you work?” as if THAT wasn’t enough!! Grrr! I hate the pressure that is put on women to be superhuman when it’s so obvious that we ARE!

Me and Bubby had a beautiful sleepy day yesterday with the rain pouring on down. He had already been asleep in bed for over an hour when the phone woke him up. (The school – wanting to know if I’d be doing contract work this year!) So we snuggled up in the recliner where he fell back to sleep for another two and a half hours!! It was so beautiful having him sleeping on top of me on the couch – like he did when he was a newborn.

I was adoring his angelic little sleeping face, all through The Bold and The Beautiful, all through Days of Our Lives, by the end of Oprah I had a major crink in my neck and just had to wake him up. What a snuggly little bunny. You should have seen his gorgeous little wakin-up face – he was looking at everything like it was brand new again. What a yummy-scrummy! Needless to say he wouldn’t go to sleep last night. He was plonked in his Big Bruss’s room to watch wrestling DVD’s while I tried to scoff my dinner.

Greg has left to go to a wedding in Sydney so I’m going solo ‘til Monday afternoon. I can see him returning to a greasy-haired, smelly, sasquatch coz the time I spend on personal grooming will probably be first to go…next the house will slowly degenerate into a filthy grotto… Just kidding, I’m a superhero, I mean, Woman remember.