Happy 1st Birthday, my Lady Girl.

Dear LG,

Today you turned 1. Everyone told me before you were born to treasure my time with you ‘cos ‘they grow up so quickly’. Like most well meaning advice, I smiled and nodded and really thought nothing much of it. But wow, it really feels like it’s gone in the blink of an eye. I can barely remember being pregnant. I do remember the week before you were due, I went to watch DB play basketball, you kicked and flipped away in my belly the entire game, I was a bit anxious that I’d go into labour.

You were born 3 days after your EDD. You were due on May 7th. I was more than happy for you to come when you were ready. I was a little bit nervous about what labour would be like, but I trusted my body to do its job. One thing I was really scared about was being induced. I really wanted a natural drug free birth, and knew my chances of that were lessened if I were to be induced. Intervention was definitely not part of my birth plan. When I say birth plan, I didn’t actually have a written one as such. I had spoken to DB about the fact that I did NOT want an epidural under any circumstance. I had no expectations of birth, just wanted to go with the flow and see how I went.

So we went out for dinner and a movie on the 7th. We figured it was probably the last time we’d be alone and be able to do something a bit spontaneous for a while. The 8th came and went, and I hadn’t felt well, but assumed it was normal. We went futon shopping (as you do). Then it was Mother’s Day (the 9th), I was still feeling out of sorts, but didn’t think anything of it. We rocked up at Aunty’s house, and your other Aunty opened the door. She looked at me and when I said I wasn’t feeling great she said ‘Ooooh, maybe you’re in labour,’
‘Don’t be stupid, I’m not in labour, I’m just not feeling great’, I replied.

Later that day I had an appointment at the hospital to have a check up. My doctor (never having an obstetrician again, but that’s a whole other story), wanted me to make sure everything was all good, as oh no, I was a few days over due. So I had one of those things around my tummy so they could check your heartbeat and stuff. We were chatting to the midwife, who was also pregnant. She said she was having her baby at the birth centre (why didn’t I look into that?), and that she was going to use a TENS machine to manage contraction pain. She asked which doctor I had, and said he was pretty old school with his views (which I had noticed), and that he could be quite forceful of his views during labour.  I was having a lot of tightenings, and the MW suggested we go home and ‘get things happening’. When we left they joked that we’d see them back that night. So when we got home, DB decided we should start getting things ready. I still hadn’t packed any bags, but I did have a list of everything we needed.

We had dinner with grandma, grandpa, and great grandma. By this stage I was apparently noticeably wincing throughout the meal. I finished, and had to go rest on the couch. Not feeling well, and also not wanting to freak out great grandma, I suggested we go home. We’d barely been in the car 3 minutes when DB said ‘We should have left the dogs at my parents place, hey?’
‘Yeah, probably.’ I replied.

We got home and the feelings continued. Now DB started getting worried. He begged me to ring the hospital. I refused, saying I’d try to sleep it off. I decided I’d have a lay down, but couldn’t get comfortable. It was then I thought maybe I should call the hospital. ‘Hi, I think I’m in labour, but not sure’
‘OK, what kind of pain are you having?’
‘It’s in my back mostly, but they’re becoming more frequent.’
‘Well, it sounds like you are, I think you should come in so we can have a look at you.’
‘Ah, nah, I might just wait a while and see how I go.’
There was a bit of a pause on the line before ‘OK, well how about you ring us back in an hour and let us know how you’re going?’

I used DB’s phone to time the contractions, in between running to the loo for twosies. I don’t think I made half an hour before it really set in that this was happening, and the contractions were now about 3 minutes apart, so I rang back the midwife and told her we were coming in. We also rang your grandpa so he could pick up the dogs.

One of the only times I yelled or used profanities during labour was in the car on the way, when a car took forever to get around the round about, so I got DB to overtake them. Being late at night there was hardly anyone on the road. A cop car pulled up behind us and DB joked that he’d think it would be hilarious if we were pulled over for something, and then how cool would it be if we had a police escort to the hospital. I only found this slightly amusing, as I was so concerned I was in false labour  and we’d be sent home

We arrived at the hospital around 11pm. The midwife who I’d spoken to on the phone took us to one of the birthing rooms, she checked me over, and did an internal. I immediately felt at ease with her.  I was 4cm, and the baby was posterior. ‘So you’re not going to send us home?’
‘No, you’re in labour, you’re staying here.’ So the contractions continued, I walked around the room, we turned on the TV, I moved around some more. At some stage not long after we had arrived, a new midwife came in to take over. I was upset by this, as I liked the one we already had. But the new one was lovely too. She asked what my plan was, I told her I had no plan, that I’d like no drugs if I can, but I really didn’t want an epidural. She seemed happy with that and suggested I use the fit ball, so I sat on and bopped up and down. Nothing helped, I just could not get comfortable. So I laid on the bed, they put one of those monitor things around my belly (every time they put this on, the MWs kept referring to you as a girl, but I wasn’t really paying attention, apparently they guess by your heart rate), and I watched a show called Embarrassing Bodies (which I love), I think the MW was slightly disturbed. DB decided he’d have a lie down on the couch, needless to say he wasn’t there long. In between going to the loo (only for onesies, after which I’d announce I was  losing my mucus plug) and trying to get into a position that made my back feel better the MW suggested I hop into the bath. So she filled it for me, and showed DB to pour the water over my belly during the contractions. This wasn’t at all like anything I’d seen in the movies or on TV, where the expectant mother howls and groans and swears through the horrid pain of contractions. I was quite calm and just shut my eyes and breathed through them. I tried to explain to DB how it felt ‘It’s like I’ve got to pee right now, like a really bad urinary tract infection’. That’s the best way I could describe the feeling. During the bath, the first MW popped in to see how I was doing, she hadn’t gone home at the end of her shift ‘cos she wanted to check on me, how nice. I know during one contraction I motioned for DB not to stop with the water pouring. By this time I was feeling the urge to push.

After the bath was no longer keeping the pain at bay, the MW asked if I wanted to get out. So I got out, I can’t remember if she dried me, or helped me into a gown, but I was now in one of those attractive hospital gowns (I didn’t bring anything to labour in). I laid on the bed and the MW did another internal, which to me were way more painful than contractions, to see what was occurin’. 8cm, and still posterior. It’s now I appreciate my MW even more, as a doctor might be concerned by the whole posterior thing. Anywho, it wasn’t too much longer, or many more contractions before one in particular made me almost cry ‘I just want to push’. After another check I was given the go ahead. ‘OK, now next time you feel a contraction, push from your bottom’. At this stage, I was so tired, closing my eyes and zoning out in between each surge. Another push and we heard a popping noise, I looked up to see my waters splatting, almost hitting the MW. Luckily she got out of the way on time. ‘I’m so sorry.’ I said to her.
‘Don’t worry about it’, she replied. There was another MW in the room now, and things were happening. The other MW asked if I wanted gas, and started getting a tank and mask ready ‘No, she doesn’t want that’, my MW said (yay). A few more contractions, some pushing from my bottom, and by now, a few grunty noises ‘Put your chin down on your chest and don’t make noise, use your energy to push’. Only one or two more, I was still pushing, and suddenly you were in my arms.

DB cut the cord. ‘What is it?’ I asked DB a couple of times, but he was just too overwhelmed to reply ‘It’s a girl’. ‘Are you sure?’ I kept asking. This was partially because I was convinced you were a boy the entire pregnancy, and also because your ‘bits’ looked like balls ‘cos they were all swollen, and possibly a little ‘cos I wasn’t wearing glasses. Anywho, I named you and DB shed a few tears. The on call doctor (my Ob was still on holidays til only 2 hours later. Oh darn that he didn’t make it!) came and stitched me up. They did all the tests they do, and put a nappy on and a mini gown, and bundled you all up for DB to cuddle. You just couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

The first person I rang was Dad (your grandpa), ‘Dad, it’s a girl, you have a grand daughter’. I could hear the happiness in his voice, and pretty sure he shed a tear or two. We rang everyone else in the immediate family and told them we’d let them know when they could come visit. I had to stay in the room on a drip and be monitored for a while, as I’d lost a bit of blood. We popped you in the crib on wheel thingy, DB had a nap, and I rested.

The next few days in hospital were a bit of a blur, and the things I do remember can be saved for a whole other story. Since you have been in our lives, you haven’t been away from me for more than 6 or 7 hours (that was one Saturday when I was at work and you didn’t notice I was gone, but my boobs sure noticed you weren’t around!) The only thing I have wanted to be my whole life is a mum. The day we found out I was pregnant (Father’s Day 2009) I cried, then Mother’s Day 2010 you started your journey down the birth canal and into our lives on Monday the 10th of May at 5:07am, 3.28kg and 51cm. You teach me something new every day, and watching you change and grow has been an honour and a privilege. You are my lady and I love you more than life itself. Happy Birthday. xoxxox

Brand new LG
You, a few weeks ago.
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Baby Led Weaning – It’s Too Easy!

I don’t know what I’d do without the computer and the interwebs. I’ve got all the info I could ever want at my finger tips. I stumbled upon baby led weaning whilst lurking (as I do, and happily admit to it) around online one day. I found some more pages and checked out some You Tube footage – check this out, it’s fantastic!

So when the time came that LG was showing interest in food, BLW was somehow pushed to the back of my brain (as things are when you’re a mum). I think she was around 5 months when all the other mums I knew were giving their babies Farex to start off with. So, we thought we’d try LG on it, just to see what she thought. I didn’t even like the look of it. It’s grey for crying out loud. Who wants to eat something that looks and tastes like cardboard? Needless to say it wasn’t well received.

When LG understandably wasn’t happy with cardboard, the thought of cooking and pureeing everything she ate just seemed silly to me. I remembered about BLW, so bit by bit we’d give her small amounts of what we were eating (keeping in mind, she’d usually have a bit of booby time first) . She started off with Vegemite on toast, which was a hit. Then avocado, bits of roasted carrot, potato and pumpkin, banana, bread, watermelon, rockmelon, scrambled eggs, noodles, stir fry, roast meats, pears, tofu, spinach, potato wedges, baked beans, smooth peanut paste on toast, fish, pasta, rice. Some things are met with a funny face, others were shoved right in and mushed around her mouth. It’s always a messy experience, but we both have fun.

I should point out, in the beginning, it was a bit scary. Babies gag lots (well, maybe not all, but LG did). This is completely normal as their gag reflex is a lot closer to the front of the moth than an adults. I’m sure lots of people thought I was was mad not spoon feeding LG. One night when we were eating at DBs parents place, LG was eating some bread. She seemed to be going fine, but then she was gagging and her eyes were watering. DB got up and took her outside, everyone was a bit panicked. We eventually realised all the bread was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Phew.

It’s been nearly 4 months since then, and LG has come such a long way with her eating. It’s so great to be able to put her in the highchair and for us to sit together and eat, rather that one of us having to feed her. She loves to be part of the table and watch everyone eat. Watching is how she learns. We use our Boon catch bowl, it suctions to the high chair/table, I love Boon products. Every time we eat somewhere people comment on what she’s eating. Some people say how good it is that she’s having a go of everything. Some people say ‘That’s not what we did in my day’. But mostly people are positive about it. My parents and in laws are astounded at the variety she eats. OK, so she might make a bit of mess (here’s when having dogs comes in handy!), and she may not eat much. But I’ve resigned myself to the fact that it’s just going to get messy, I just go with it. A good tip though is to put down a towel or plastic sheet underneath the high chair so clean up is easier. Sometimes we also strip LG down to just a nappy if the weather is nice enough, it’s easier to wipe off of her.

LG has never eaten any purred food, nor has she ever eaten anything out of a jar. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against anyone who feeds their babies jarred food, do whatever works for you. It’s funny how people just do whatever they see everyone else do and not try other ways. I would have done the whole stewing fruits and making up mashed meals to freeze had I not stumbled upon the marvel that is BLW. Just give it a go, and soon you’ll never have to carry around containers or jars of special baby food ‘cos you’re baby will be able to eat off of your plate – too easy!

 

LG eating chicken and veg stir fry.

LG eating chow mein.

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Addicted to cloth.

When I fell pregnant, I became obsessed with everything baby. I’d spend hours online stalking pages and forums (hehehe, still do it now!) I don’t remember the first time I saw an MCN, but it must have been online. Using disposable nappies never entered my mind. Putting all that waste into landfill, I was not down with that. Disposables were just never a long term option for me. I mean, I did buy some for the first few weeks (won’t be doing that for number 2, and I mean our second baby* not number 2s!), which to my disgust and horror, ended up being for months. I decided on a OSFM option, the one I bought about 20 or so of being from 5kg. Well the LG was way too tiny for them. Luckily as I hadn’t pre-washed them yet, I was able to swap.

I will admit, I felt like a fraud. I’d been telling everyone who would listen (and everyone who didn’t want to listen!) that I would be using cloth. This came to mixed responses, some people would say ‘Good on you’, others just thought I was crazy. One of my work colleagues told me about the nappy bin he had bought, one of those ones that wraps the nappy up in even more plastic. I think by the expression on my face I must have offended him. But seriously, they are just wrong. He couldn’t believe I wanted to use cloth and said I was creating more work for myself.

So I was quite anxious about finally putting LG in cloth. I don’t know why. I guess I was so used to the convenience of throwing everything out. And to be honest, I’m quite squeamish, so the thought of washing shitty nappies off was gag worthy. But the new, better fitting nappies arrived and so my addiction with all things cloth started, and we’ve never looked back. I have converted a few of my friends. I get to talk about nappies at my job, which is awesome. My husband loves them. I’ve made new friends through online nappy pages. They’re by far better for the environment than disgustables (what us clothies call ‘sposies), so so easy to wash, save you so much money (if you don’t go crazy like some people), I don’t need to put a nappy filled bin out every week (in fact, sometimes we go a few weeks without putting the bin out, couldn’t do that with ‘sposies), and they look so friggen’ cute. What is not to love?

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. I really don’t understand some people’s views towards cloth. I don’t understand why they won’t try them before poo pooing them (pun intended!) I take any chance I can to tell people about them and explain their benefits. I’m a self confessed lazy bitch and I can do it, just give it a go for goodness sake.

There are so many varieties of MCNs on the market now (even the brand names are cool), we’re so spoiled for choice. At the moment I use a mix of Baby BeeHinds, Itti Bittis, Cushie Tushies, plus a really awesome Very Hungry Caterpillar one I bought from a WAHM at Delicate Delights. I have a couple of wet bags, but my favourite is my Planet Wise wet/dry bags from Ecocubs (yes, someone learned how to add links!) It’s so good ‘cos I can put a couple of clean nappies and some wipes in the front, and then the dirty stuff goes in the back, easy as.

My next venture will be cloth wipes and cloth liners. At the moment I’ve got lots of flushable liners to use up, which are handy ‘cos when your babies poo starts getting all nardy (I believe this is the technical term for solid), you can just pick that shit up and flush it. I’ve got a few pairs of old PJs I’m going to cut up and sew around (read: get my mum to) and then I’ll be able to just flick the poo off  into the toilet (might wait til LG’s poo is full on nardy) and pop them in the wash with the nappies. Same goes for wipes. Use ’em and chuck ’em in the wash. Pretty simple, eh?

Next newborn (as in, next baby), I plan on using pre-folds and good old terry towelling with a Snappi. We really have it so much easier than our mothers did.

I also own several pairs of BabyLegs and some Huggalugs. Seriously, could it get any cuter?! Makes for super easy nappy changes too. I always get comments when LG wears them.

Twenty or so years ago, about 90% of people used cloth and the other 10% used disposables. These days that figure is the other way around This makes me sad. Think about your child and what kind of world you’d like them to live in. A disposable world is a very sad world in my opinion. I would love to pass a love for the environment on to LG. And I would love to think that when she has a child she would use cloth too. My mum used terry folds for 4 kids, and I salute her. Cloth nappying has sure come a long way. My mother in law is quite proud that 2 of her 3 children use cloth on their children (number 3 had no knowledge of MCNs, but don’t worry, I’ve fixed that!), and she now informs anyone she knows who is pregnant about MCNs. So indirectly, I’ve changed the habits of people I don’t even know. How rad is that?

So, give cloth a go. You’ve got nothing to lose.

*I’m clucky for a fresh baby, but want to enjoy the LG on her own for a bit longer.

LG admiring her own reflection, in a Baby BeeHinds Magic-All and a Threadless t-shirt.

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Co sleeping – it rocks my world!

Before I became a mum I had so many ideas of what I would and would not do. I thought co-sleeping was crazy and I wasn’t going to (and I quote myself) “mollycoddle” my child, that my baby didn’t always need attention and should learn that they won’t always get it, that my life wouldn’t change that much. Boy how I was wrong, so, so wrong.

Enter the Lady Girl. Now my life got flipped, turned upside down*, in a totally great way. For the first few months of LG, she slept in a bassinette next to our bed. I think she was about 4 months old when I started laying her next to me for feeds and we’d both fall back to sleep. Now she sleeps in our bed every night. And I love it, even though I end up all squished so she can spread out, and there’s enough room for DB. Now when LG wakes up I just pull down my bra/singlet and let her go for it. Most nights she’ll fall asleep sucking away, so I gently put my finger in her mouth so she lets go and continues sleeping. Some nights she doesn’t fall asleep, and when she’s done she’ll have a little chat (well, a jabber, she can’t talk yet) before putting her fingers in her mouth and dozing off. One night a week or so ago she watched and listened while DB and I quietly chatted. She laid in between us, sucking on her fingers and turning her head to us like she was interested in what we were saying. She fell asleep and DB and I smiled at each other, man she’s the cutest! Last night she was spooning DB, I wish I had my camera next to my bed. I know LG will let us know when she’s ready to be in a bed of her own. At the moment she still happily sleeps in her cot during the day. On the days when she’s not so happy to sleep in the cot we both have a nap in my (although I should say our) bed.

At first, when talking about sleeping (at mother’s group, or with friends), I didn’t want to admit that we co sleep. I felt embarrassed to say it out loud. I don’t know why. I guess it’s all the pressure we feel as mums to ‘do the right thing’. Well now I’ve learned that the right thing by me might not be the right thing by another mum, but that’s ok, we all do what works for us. And I have no problem sharing that I co sleep. I have to make a note to myself to remind my mum that I used to come into her bed all the time (she thinks I’m making a rod for my back), and she never rolled on me. I used to twirl her hair in my fingers as a comfort thing. I’m thinking now what a beautiful memory that is to have, just the feel of my mummy’s hair would calm me down.

There are so many taboo subjects when it comes to babies, and I think that co sleeping is definitely one of them. But now that I am someone who does it, I feel it should be talked about more. It’s funny how many people won’t admit to co sleeping (like I wouldn’t). But once you start talking it in a positive way, they open up and share their co sleeping stories. I was talking to a friend about it last night. Whenever she wonders when her daughter will be ready to sleep on her own and not come into her bed in the middle of the night, she thinks about a news article she read about a man who lost his children. How he misses the pitter patter of their footsteps in the middle of the night and the warmth he felt having his children sleeping either side of him.

I think when LG is ready to be in a bed on her own I will feel a mixture of things. Relieved that she doesn’t need me, but also rejected. Proud that she’s growing up. Happy to have the bed back (which let’s face it, won’t be happening for a while if/when I have another baby!) But she will always be welcome to come back for cuddles.

 

I would like to point out that co sleeping does not necessarily mean bed sharing, although in my case it does. Co sleeping is sharing a sleeping space.

 

*thank-you Will Smith!

 

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Stuff and things

 

So you (who ever you are) can get a bit more of a sense of who I am. A little getting to know me type of blog.

I think when a lot of people first meet me they think a few things. That I have an opinion and I’m outspoken, that I’m a bit of a hippy, maybe even also a bitch. But once you get to know me, you’ll realise that yes, I do have an opinion and yes, I am outspoken, but I call it passionate. I am passionate about our earth and trying to do what we can to look after it. This might mean that I have a go at someone for putting something recyclable in the bin, or I might (just a little bit) go on about how much I love using cloth nappies and how absolutely disgusting disposables are. Yes, I probably am judging you for using disposables, but if you feel bad about it yourself, then actually try using cloth before you dismiss it. God that shits me. When I tell people I use cloth and they look at me like I’m crazy (crazy for cloth!!). But I am seriously such a lazy person, so if I can do them anyone can. I don’t want to hear excuses. They’re a piece of piss (pardon the possibly quite intended pun!)

And yes, I can be a bitch. But that’s only because I tell it like it is. I hate fake people. I hate when people pretend to be something they’re not. Just be yourself, I do, and I don’t particularly care if don’t like me. I’d rather you dislike me for who I am than like me for someone I’m not (I believe Kurt Cobain said something similar). And if you have a problem with me let me know. I might be defensive or slightly upset, but if you don’t let me know how can I change? I don’t offend people just for the sake of it (OK, sometimes maybe I do, but if I do it’s because you deserve it.)

I like swearing. I’m not offended by much (the Pussycat Dolls are pretty offensive if you ask me), so swear all you like. It’s just words. I’m trying not to do it so much now the Lady Girl is here. I won’t be surprised if her first word is dickhead though. We figure if she knows it’s bad language then she’ll be more inclined to use it because it is naughty. This will probably come back to haunt us when she tells her grandma to get fucked.

I’m passionate about music, but I dislike musicals. Something about everything being all normal and stuff, then breaking out into song and somehow everyone knows the words and the dance moves. Scares the crap out of me. For this reason I have not seen Grease. This is also the reason that I drank all the alcohol on the bridal table (I was a bridesmaid) when everyone at one of my best friend’s weddings sang You’re Just Too Good To Be True to her (the bride).

I’ve always wanted to be a mum. Ever since I can remember I’ve wanted babies. I’ve always loved holding babies and playing with toddlers and younger children. I always carry around everything in my bag so when people ask if I have chewing gum, Panadol, a band aid, or a tissue I can help them out. At friends’ houses I like to help them clean up after dinner, empty out the dregs of the beer bottles and put them in the recycling, pack left overs into the fridge. My friends have always called me the mum. Now I am a mummy I am cherishing every moment (well, most moments!) rinsing poo off of nappies, mopping up little spews, calming down LG when she’s upset. Giving birth to her was the most amazing experience of my life.

I’m not sure if I’ve really given anyone much of an idea of who I am. So I’ll list some of my likes and dislikes, interests or hobbies. Ooooh, sounds like an online dating site. Anyone like what they see?!! Sorry, I’m not available. (But we could be friends over the interwebs?!)

Likes; hanging out with friends and family, taking my boy dogs for walks, making stuff, listening to music and going to gigs, chocolate, the smell of rain, cloth nappies (derr), nanna naps, autobiographies, sushi, owls, photography, lotuses and orchids, tattoos and piercings, Dunlop Volleys, beer, laughing, red wine, India, Frankie magazine, chai, triple j (it’s a radio station), baby wearing. I’m sure I have more likes than this, but my brain isn’t functioning in this weather.

Dislikes: pineapple, the murder of the English language* (wonder how many spelling and grammar errors I’ve made in this?), tomato sauce (how un-Australian am I?), cleaning, commercial radio, Glee, jam, fruit in and on stuff – I just like it by itself, not with/in yoghurt or ice cream, just fruit by itself is good. This isn’t the whole list, but who wants to be negative hey?

*I can’t stand when people don’t know the difference between they’re there and their, too and to, your and you’re etc. Also inappropriate use of commas. Really gets on my goat. Don’t they teach this stuff at school any more?

So I think I’ve crapped on enough now. I can’t be arsed putting a photo up, sorry. I have no idea what my next blog will be about. I’ve got so many ideas floating around my head I might just have to bring out some of those primitive things called a pen and paper, or I could just type out a list!

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Pushing my buttons.

Have you ever had a silent stand off with someone? I have them all the time with DB. I’m not sure if he actually knows that he’s involved in the stand off, or if he’s just plain ignorant. Who knows, men’s minds work in mysterious ways.

I’m not sure how long ago it was, must be at least a month, maybe two. DB went to the toilet and the top button from his fly fell off onto the floor. It has since been there. He’s asked me to sew it back on several times, to which I’ve told him he can do it himself. So right now, as I type this, I can see the button on the floor (our office is conveniently located across from the blue loo) and I am silently seething. Why the fuck can’t he just pick it up?

We have these silent (ok, sometimes maybe they’re not silent, they’re the exact opposite) stand offs often. Who will be the first to fill up the toilet roll holder, or put the empty rolls in the recycling (me and me)? Who will change the bin liner, could I possibly squeeze another wrapper into the bin without it falling out everywhere? Who will pick up the tea towel that was knocked on the floor by someone (not me) a week ago? Who will put that pile of washing in the washing machine? Who will take the dry clothes off the line? I could go on, but I think you get the point?

When I ask DB to do something, I’m nagging, but when I ask him why he didn’t do something like take the dry washing off the line after he’d hung up a wet load he “didn’t think of even checking to see if it was dry, why didn’t I ask him to take it down?” Apparently I need to write a list of things for him to do.

I don’t want people thinking my husband does nothing, he’s really pretty awesome. I know from talking to some of my lady friends that their husbands are the same. I just don’t get how men can’t see what needs to be done. Isn’t is freaking obvious?

Men, can’t live with ’em………

Said button

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Mum Bum!

So, here’s my first blog. Took me friggen long enough to work out what I was doing. Think I might have over done it with the youtube and the facebook page though. Anywho, let’s get this show on the road.

There are so many things I could talk (type) about, but the thing that stays in my mind is:

HOLY CRAP, I’M TURNING INTO MY MUM!

I’m 27 and already I have a mum bum, a jelly belly and tuck shop lady arms. Admittedly, I don’t really do any exercise (unless you count shopping as cardio?!) I eat ok. By ok I mean sometimes I eat toast with peanut paste for dinner, but who doesn’t do that once (or twice) a week?

I remember my mum asking me one time if I’d rather a body like hers or a body like my aunty’s (her sister) I’m pretty sure I said my aunty, but only ‘cos that’s what she was trying to get me to say. Ever since I can remember she’s always been trying to lose weight. My mum isn’t a big lady, she’s not skinny, but she’s never been obese (only according to her BMI, which is bullshit). I reckon mum’s probably fitter than me, she walks her dog every day, and goes to a lady gym a few times a week. It’s not necessarily horrible that I can see myself in her, but I’m not even 30, give me a break. I’ve tried the whole gym thing, tried eating really healthy, bought a treadmill, thought about doing some group fitness sessions, or getting back into playing sport. But I just come up with excuse after excuse. Why is it that I can’t stick to something? Is this part of my personality? How can I change it?

I don’t think now that I’m overly big. I’m a lot smaller than what I was before I was pregnant, but I was on the pill continuously (skipping AF) as that’s what I’d been advised to do with endometriosis. Anywho, I don’t think that was doing me any good.

Sorry, I’ve digressed, what was the point to this? Oh yeah, so aside from already having my mum’s body I’m also doing totally unco mum stuff with the Lady Girl. Just silly things like galloping like a horse, singing, and general ‘I’ve got a baby therefore I can do silly things’ type stuff. But sometimes I stop and think ‘Geez, I’m unco’. This (unco-ness) is something mum says I get from her. Hooray for genes! I’m doing things she does like get water everywhere when I do the dishes (especially on the jelly belly pouch thing I’ve got going on), which is so mum it’s not funny. I’m also having to ask the DB (Daddy Boy is what I call hubby, only since the Lady Girl came along, it’s not a freaky sexy thing!) how to work all the gadgets, for example when I couldn’t work the universal remote control, when I blew a fuse using too many appliances (whilst I was thinking about that show where the family had no idea all their power was coming from people riding exercise bikes and how hard they would have to pedal for all my appliances I was using!) when I plugged my mp3 player into the car and couldn’t work out why I could only hear the music really really softly (the headphones were still plugged in!) All of these things just scream mum to me. I guess it’s not so scary, my mum is a pretty cool old lady (hehehe, I mean older lady!)

Well, I think I’ve crapped on a bit here without saying much at all, but hopefully someone understands what I’m saying?!

Mums rock!

LM

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