16 Oct 2013


We've had an amazing bedtime routine for the majority of Mushroom's life.  Whilst his day sleeping has always been a bit shit, he will always go down without a fight at the end of a long day.  We do dinner, bath (shower with a parent whatevs), book, some boobie, then bed.

Until now.

Over the last month, we've had a few nights where the shithead, whoops, I mean the child, will not co-operate with his 7pm bedtime.  Like tonight, at 7.45, he was doing laps of the lounge room and the kitchen banging a plastic peg on the tiles and shouting Dad at the top of his lungs.  We did our best to ignore him. I mean, what else are you supposed to do?  I still can't bear to leave him scream in his room so expend some energy it is.

We made it clear that nothing fun happens after you go to bed Mushroom.  We just finish our dinner, do some washing, hang out washing, fold up washing, pack lunchboxes, clean filthy highchair, clean filthy house, shower.. you know fun stuff like that.  Ok, sometimes we just look at the mess and then collapse on the couch because it's all too hard, but you know, nothing fun.  No raucous parties.  No loud tunes.  No mountains of chocolate.  Sometimes I'll bake.  Or read a book.  Those nights are fun. For me.  Not exactly your idea of a good time.

So here we are at 8.30 and he's finally asleep.  I had to sit in the recliner with him laying on top of me, sucking furiously on his dummy, whilst he pulled my hair and finally dozed off.

I'm blaming a late sleep.  See I had my deforestation appointment this afternoon, so the Mushroom spent an hour and a half hanging at my Mum's house whilst I had that going on.  And he fell asleep, at 4.30, when they went for a little stroll down the road.  Stupid Mushroom.  You need to sleep at 3, not 4.30.  He must hear my voice on arrival and wakes up 5 minutes after I get there, only to fall asleep on the drive home as well!  Ugh!  I know in my very soul that this will mean a late bedtime and what happened?  Huh?  What did I tell you?!  

Obviously I'm onto it.  The days when he won't go down to sleep at 7 are because he has had a late sleep.  So no more late sleeps... but like this whole parenting fiasco, easier said than done.  He's trying hard to move to one sleep but it's just not happening yet and he's not ready.  He still needs that power nap of an afternoon to see him through to bedtime. I may have to start being vigilant and start clock watching.

Or drugging him.

Either way, good to know that I've figured that one out and not complete shite as a Mother!  Another positive, appointment raving success and now have tidy, waxed and hair free areas on my person. Happy as a clam.

Finally succumbed to sleep.  Turd.

15 Oct 2013


I attempted to perform some Mummy maintenance last week in the form of hair removal.

Found a lovely lady on the book of face, home salon, kids room for the Mushroom to play in.  Sounded amazing. 

Unfortunately things that sound amazing, will generally turn out to be a big, fat, f up.

Which it was.

There were numerous signs which should have indicated to me that this was a bad idea but I just forged ahead, determined for leg deforestation. 

  1. Juffin's pay didn't go in on Friday morning.  I just dipped into my cupcake money and thought, stuff it, I deserve this.
  2. Enroute I realised that Kelso is a really long way from my house.  Google maps was telling me 37 minutes and my appointment was in 15 minutes.  Whoops. 
  3. I then sit in roadworks for 10 minutes making my arrival time a whooping half an hour after the appointment time.  I was humiliated.  
I am sweaty, apologetic shaking mess when I finally rock up at this poor woman's house.  Mushroom is extremely unhappy after having to sit in the car for so long and is gripping my shirt with the strength .  I can't help thinking that if I'd been on time we'd be almost finished by now and leaving happy and hair free.

Waxing lady is lovely.  Her house is lovely.  Her kids are lovely.  My Mushroom, not so lovely.  As soon as I put him down with the girls and their toys, he loses his shit.  They dance around trying to entertain him and he eventually starts smiling.  Grabbing the opportunity, we manage to jump into the next room and get started with a minimal amount of fuss.   I am silently crossing my fingers and hoping that the boy behaves himself.

Approximately 5 seconds later, the Mushroom realises that I'm no longer in the room and starts up again.  Argh!  I feel so awful for this poor woman. As my lower limbs are covered in wax, she goes to get my screaming Mushroom and tries to calm him down.  He's not having a bar of it.  You're not my bloody mother, I can feel his indignation from the other room.  She brings him into me and his little red tear soaked face is enough to make me cry.  He's swinging his little head around frantically searching for me and when he locks eyes on me he nearly launches himself in my direction.  Oh dear.  I feel like the World's worst mother.

Despite the stickiness all over my legs, I jump up from the table and grab my poor anti-social boy.  He's really worked himself up into a state now and despite lots of cuddles and cooing, the crying is not abating.  I figure he's hungry and whip the ol' breasticle out.  If all else fails, stick a boob in his mouth.  What do you know?  He stops.  I then have to deal with a very inquisitive 4 year old asking me lots of questions about breastfeeding and why is the baby boy crying etc.  It's very cute, however, I'm feeling increasingly uncomfortable and embarrassed by this whole venture.  Why did I think that this would be ok?  Why didn't I just get my Mother to watch him while I did this?  What kind of selfish woman leaves her son with a bunch of kids she doesn't know whilst she gets her bits waxed?

Enter Jess the Gymnast.  We continued the wax with Mushroom sitting on my chest.  I then stood up and held him whilst she did the backs of my legs... Not exactly ideal. As the Mushroom seemed happier and was playing around the floor for a little while we took advantage and decided to do an underarm.  I'm not sure why we decided to do that but almost immediately it turned into a very bad idea.  What was supposed to be underarms, eyebrow, legs and bikini, turned into legs and one underarm.  I am officially lopsided. The wonderful woman then refused my attempt at payment and gently suggested that I come back next week sans child so she could finish up.


Wonderful woman.

So I'm going back tomorrow.  Without the Mushroom.

I vow to be on time.  Have cash.  And get that shit done.

The trials of motherhood, I tell you!

How could someone so cute cause so much trouble?!

14 Oct 2013


Can you believe that this little Mushroom is ONE YEAR OLD next week?!

Laughing it up 

I'm in total denial.  I'm also in denial that my son will grow up one day and like, be a big boy, a teenager (ARGH!) and then a man and stuff.  That's just weird.  I know nothing about raising boys.  Boys are still so mysterious to me.  I look at boys running riot in shopping centres, parks, outside of schools and I think, good God, someone control those creatures.  When they push past me at the shops with their dirty socks and they're stinky boy smell, I recoil in horror.  Then I realise that in the not too distant future I'll have one of those and will be unable to control him, or his body odour, either. Scary.

On another note, I don't have much good news for you.  Unfortunately I have not been walking, have not stopped eating red rooster chips and nor have I organised any kind of study for myself.  I have, however, thought about doing these things often.  The curse of the procrastinator...

Why can't I just get off my fat butt and put my mind to good use?!

6 Oct 2013


Mushroom loves banana's.

Like honest to goodness true love.

If we're swinging past the bench and he happens to glance at the bench and sees them in the fruit bowl he will try to launch himself out of my arms and onto the bench.  He gets all excited and yells 'NANA' at the top of his lungs.

You can only imagine what it's like at the supermarket when we go past in the trolley.  The look on his little face when he sees that pile of yellow bananery goodness.  His little eyes light up and he starts hooting and carrying on....everyone around us just goes 'awwwwww'

Probably the cutest thing the little man does...that and exist of course.  But I'm bias.

5 Oct 2013


It's time to get serious about my life and where I'm going.

I'm going to make a number of statements and then I'm actually going to try and stick to them.  It's called commitment or not being a procrastinator.  I don't know what the word is for not being a procrastinator.

When you work and you have an 11 month old, sticking to anything is hard work.  Housework, washing, general Mummy maintenance like shaving legs and keeping eyebrows groomed.  I won't go into the finer details.  Suffice to say, things have been slipping for quite some time, but I actually believe that if I wasn't at work, things may be worse as there's no sense of urgency with these things.

I have started so many posts in the last 4 weeks and they are just sitting there.  Not finished.  And I've re-read them and feel like I'm waffling so am now tempted to delete them.  Short and sweet is going to be my new motto.  The Mushroom also broke my laptop a week after I purchased it which has contributed to my lack of posting as well.

Excuses, excuses Jess.  Geez!

So here are goals... it's scary putting them out there like this

  • I will post on my blog three times a week
  • I will research then commence an online course about how to make my blog spiffy and cool
  • I will enrol in a cake decorating class
  • I will speak to my partner without acid in my tongue - I'm a real B these days!  
  • I will endeavour to walk with the Mushroom three times a week 
  • I will stop comparing my life to other's..  (Syria, Sudan, Afghanistan, Somalia... suck it up Princess.  There are millions far worse off than you!)  

That's all I've got for now.  But they're a big deal.  I am going to be positive.  I will try to stick with this.  I mean, how hard can it be?!

My little inspiration xox

1 Oct 2013


Last week we had our first case of the dreaded hand, foot and mouth disease.  I mean gross.  It sounds disgusting (mad cow disease anyone?!) but actually wasn't as bad as I thought.  I think we got off lightly.  Touch wood.

According to trusty ol' WebMD it takes a few days to get the tell tale blisters and this is usually after a lengthy 'incubation' period.  Double gross.

Basically we hung out with our usual little dude friends on the Thursday, he was fine. I went away and had my party weekend (more on that later) I got back and he seemed fine.  Didn't sleep much but the Juffin put it down to me being absent and Mushroom just generally being a cranky one.  On Monday the Mushroom went off to his Meme's house like usual. We'd had a bit of a disturbed evening but I thought teething again.  Tuesday was when all the drama went down.

After 3 hours sleep on Monday night I really should have known that he was sick.  I mean what kind of bad mother am I?  Again, I just assumed it was teeth.  I mean teeth are to blame for everything! 

I dropped him off at daycare after being cried at for an hour.  We were half an hour late.  And he fell asleep in the car on the way over there.  He NEVER does that.  He then STAYED ASLEEP when I put him down in his portacot.  Wow. 

I went off to work, thinking holy shit, glad that's over.  Around 11.15 I got a call from the daycare Mum saying that he was inconsolable.  I could actually hear him screaming in the background. She wanted to know if ok to give paracetamol and I said sure, but wasn't convinced that that was exactly why she'd rung.  She sounded stressed.  I immediately said I would come and get him but she was all coy and like no it's ok we can do this, but I wasn't convinced.

I raced out of work and picked him up. Poor little Mushroom had the reddest face and his eyes were all puffy.  Apparently he just wouldn't settle all morning.  Crying, wouldn't calm with cuddles, stories, dummy nothing.  She seemed to think it was teeth too, but just said he was off all morning.  In that moment I just felt like the shittest parent in the whole World.  I mean why the f am I going to work when my boy is crying at someone elses house?  Why didn't I just stay home that day when he kept crying at me?  Why didn't I know that something was wrong? 

On the way home we stopped in at the chemist and I got some baby paracetamol as his little head felt a little hot as did his chest.  He had a rash on his legs but Juffin said that they'd been playing in the park and it was just irritated from the grass.... um, no.  First sign of disease is a rash douchebags. 

The afternoon was pretty uneventful, I had to lay down with the Mushroom in my bed to get him to have an afternoon nap but he seemed ok after paracetamol and cuddles with his Mum.  He was then up for most of the night, hot, crying, wouldn't settle.  Egads.  This was terrible.  I went to the Dr first thing on Wednesday morning as there were blisters on his feet now.  Obviously hand foot and mouth.

I was off work for the week.  The whole week with my sick little Mushroom.  And the sad thing is, even though he was sick, he seemed happier.  He was happy playing by himself, he slept very well during the day (let's not talk about the night sleeping) and he seemed much happier overall.  No screaming at me from the floor of the kitchen, no crying when I put him down and left the room....  It just made me feel even worse about working and leaving my son with other people for 5 hours of every weekday.

I'm hoping that I can win lotto.  Or find a money tree.  Or discover that I'm actually really good at something that I've somehow missed in the last 32 years and capitalise on my awesome special skill... I'm pretty sure eating pasta in record quantities ain't going to make me no money!

A sick little Mushroom sleeping on his Mama