17 Nov 2017

Weekly Wrap 17/11

And just like that, it's Friday again.

This week I decided enough was enough and started eating well, exercising and tracking my food. I kept saying that I would start again in the new year, but why?  What's wrong with now?  I could continue to complain about being time poor, tired, and grumpy but there's no point unless I do something about it.

So I did.

It's only been 5 days, but I'm keeping myself honest and accountable.  It's a step in the right direction.

See what I did there?

It should also be recorded that tonight we had homemade pumpkin soup and I didn't eat any bread. That's right.  No bread.  I deserve a fucking medal.  Obviously I've lost 35kg already...

Mushroom and I continue to butt heads as whilst I wouldn't say he is a badly behaved child, I'm struggling to keep my temper when I have to repeat myself 17000 times. And I know that yelling doesn't solve anything but it actually feels like the only time he'll listen!

We had a little chat this afternoon and I apologised for being cranky and yelling and he apologised for not listening, but let's be honest, it'll stay in his brain for 2 seconds and he'll be back to ignoring me again.  I think it's more about not wanting to do what I'm asking him and being totally distracted by everything around him... like his father.  I did tell him that life is mostly just doing things that you don't want to do and he looked at me with his cute little face and said I don't wanna do that life.  I may have been shook.... What is it about 5 years old being so profound?

And yes I just said shook.  Total trendite.

Telling me that I'm wrong... again!
He's also an insufferable know it all which drives me absolutely bonkers.  I have this disorder where I can't just let people be wrong and feel that I have to correct them (sorry Tara!) but Mushroom literally yells at me and argues his totally incorrect point.  I could let it go but clearly I'm right and he's wrong and that will never ever happen in this universe.  I mean honestly, pick your battles Jess, but I just can't seem to let the little turd have the last word.

Obviously we both need to do some work in these areas but he needs to start paying attention and listening so he can set a better example for his sister as she's always copying him.... Speaking of Molly, let's talk about her for a second because at present it's like this:

"OH MY GOD Molly!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Molly has morphed into total toddler terror!!  Mushroom was bad, but I'm pretty sure Molly has him trumped. I don't remember him being this turd-like.  The Santa parade was at Willows yesterday and I just couldn't bring myself to take the kids because trying to deal with her in those crowds was just too much for this Mama to handle!

Her latest MO is getting all the tea towels out of the drawer and draping them over things saying "BANKET" (blanket).  Apparently the coffee table, step stool, and a half eaten apple need a blanket.   I didn't even know that owned that many tea towels!

I have given up tidying after her as she's a bloody tornado.  There are tea towels everywhere.  And lego.  She loves Mushroom's lego, especially the little lego men. She likes taking their hats/helmets/hair off and putting them back on.  Cute but standing on a tiny lego space helmet is not fucking cute, let me tell you.

"Mushroom, can you please pick up all this lego?"
"It wasn't me, it was Molly!"
"I know, but I asked you to do it..." and then I whisper to myself, "as if she's going to clean it up FFS!"
Who could stay mad
at that face? 

Molly has also taken to throwing food all over the floor.  Every. Single. Meal.  We eat outside on the patio alot now because at least the birds will come and clean that up.  I can't even deal.  I find bits of food EVERYWHERE.

"Please stop doing that Molly, please don't throw food on the floor. Food is for eating, if you don't want it, please put it on your plate.  Please Molly, PUHLEASE!"

And then she takes my request, processes it, looks at my face, takes her food, swings her tiny arm and throws that shit on the fucking floor. And then she laughs in my face.

BISH!!!!

She finds Max's markers and draws on the floor, our bed, the chairs, the bloody WALLS (they're washable but so not the fucking point)!
Bedroom carpet - defaced

"Molly, floors are not for drawing.  Walls are not for drawing.  Mummy and Daddy's bed is not for drawing. What do we draw on?"

"Pwaper"

Continues to scribble on pantry cupboard door.

*throws hands in the air*

All she wants to eat at present is cake, strawberries or mango.  I mean, I hear you sista girl, all those things are super delish, but in no way is that a balanced diet.  Of course when I say no she throws herself on the floor and body cries.  You know, the type of crying where your whole body shakes because your life is over.  Because your Mum wouldn't let you eat the second punnet of strawberries that cost her $4.50. I wish I had her problems...

Other news this week, I ordered matching cheesy Christmas outfits for the children, some douche threw a chocolate milk out of the window of his car and it went all over mine, I started researching the possibility of having surgery in Brisbane, Veronica Mars started streaming on Stan today, I finally did the floors but Kmart's mop bucket is total shite, and I have my work Christmas party tomorrow night!  Yeow!

Oh and today marks our 4 year engagement anniversary!  Maybe we'll get married soon!  Can't rush these things....

11 Nov 2017

Weekly Wrap 11/11

As an incentive to try and blog more often, I thought I'd start doing a weekly wrap-up.

I know you're all laughing as my posts are sporadic at best but c'mon, humour me please!  A girl can try.

First, my kids continue to amaze and infuriate me in equal measure.

Mushroom is currently obsessed with his penis and gets it out whenever the mood strikes him.

Which is frequent.

He has just been given a pair of boyleg fancy jocks that have the 'pocket' and he now pokes his penis out of said pocket and waves it in mine and Molly's faces. We are unimpressed. I don't know how many times a week I yell "Please stop playing with your doodle/penis in the (insert common living area name here). If you want to play with it, please go to your room!"

My neighbours love me.

On Tuesday evening he managed to lock us out of the house and I had to turn the gas off at the wall and wait for Juffin to get home and break in. I was a bad mother and called him an idiot.  I apologised afterwards but shit, I was frickin mad!  I still feel bad.  Hashtag Mum Guilt.

Classy cup ladies
Tuesday was a bit of a crappy day with GP visit. oppressive heat and manic children.  Hence my crankiness at Mushroom for locking us out.  I also repeatedly tell both my children to stop playing with doors and they never fucking listen.  So, you know, yelling "I told you to stop playing with that damn door and now we're locked outside, idiot" was bound to happen.

It wasn't a totally shitty day, I spent the afternoon with my lovely GF watching the Cup and eating yummy food.  It was good but next time we think we'll ditch the bloody kids and go somewhere air conditioned where we don't have to cook OR clean up... Too much noise and not enough bubbles!

Mushroom graduated from Kindergarten in the most ridiculous and amazing graduation ceremony ever.  I know that my parents generation think it's absurd, as do I, but fuck it's funny and the kids looked adorable in their tiny hats.  Cute!!

Molly has had yellow snot pouring from her nose all week and now looks like she's been on a 5 day coke bender.  She's scabby, and grumpy and honestly, I feel like the terrible two's have already arrived and I don't know if I can live through this shit again!  She is already throwing herself on the floor and yells "NO WAY" whenever I ask her a question or offer her a food she doesn't like.  Which is anything that isn't cake. She's already dictating to me what she will and won't wear ("NO WAY") and says things like "Mummy farty" and runs away.

If you don't laugh you'll cry.

I attempted to braid her hair for the first time yesterday and I described it on facebook as 'trying to wrestle an octopus with fluff for tentacles'.  Her hair fell out within in the hour because it really is, just fluff.

Juffin was recovering from tonsillitis and/or the flu aka I'm dying, please fawn over me endlessly.  I'm a bitch and not at all sympathetic so was mostly just annoyed that I had to do all the washing up as well as the cooking which is crap.  He seems to have recovered but one can never be too sure re relapse.

I made a particularly good batch of Zucchini Slice which lasted the entire week, rearranged my baking shelf and gave it a good wipe out, ordered groceries, finished my bookclub book, got a Strand walk in and a playdate and got the enrolment forms for Mushroom's OSHC sent off.  I also scored a fancy hair curler on Gumtree for $25 and have been spending lots of time in the bathroom damaging my already colour-damaged hair beyond repair.  Huzzah!

I have 4 loads of clean washing piled up in the lounge room ready to fold and my floors haven't been mopped in 10 days as my mop bucket died and I kept forgetting to buy another one.  I might have to do something about these things tomorrow...

AND today, whilst at bookclub, I noticed my first white eyebrow hair in the tea rooms bathroom. I guess the light in my bathroom is shitty and the mirror is too far away but there was, glaring back at me in all it's white shiny glory.

A white eyebrow hair.

I got home this afternoon and promptly took a selfie.

I guess this means that I have white pubes now too... Literally firs thing that popped into my mind after seeing it.

I'm not game to check!

Ps scuse my brows, waxing is low on my list of priorities at the moment!


7 Nov 2017

Update




Following up from today's GP appointment, I have another ovarian cyst.

It's formed on my favourite ovary (sarcasm) lefty loser.  This the same side that I've already had an ovarian cyst removed from in 2014.  At the time they managed to save my ovary but I'm kinda wishing they just took it now, however, I may not have had Molly so silver linings and all that jazz. 

I lost my left fallopian tube in an ectopic pregnancy the following year in 2015. So lefty loser is kinda just hanging out over there.  Like the loser it is. 

Due to my cyst being complex and nearly 40mm it's causing bullshit and needs to be removed.

Which means more surgery.

I may have had a little cry when I told Juffin because FFS enough already.

Obviously this is shithouse, however, I am grateful that I'm not pregnant.  That I don't have cancer.  That I live in a country where I have access to excellent medical advice and care. That I have been blessed with two beautiful albeit manic children, my partner is a bit great and my family are only a phonecall away.

I know that I'll get through this, like I do with everything else and whilst I'm happy and grateful for all those things, 2017 can still go and suck a big fat dick.

My budget headwear :-)

 Ps Max Dynamite came third so at least I won my $$ back in the Cup today.  Giddy up! 

6 Nov 2017

Shark Week

Disclaimer: If you don't like hearing about women's health issues, then please stop reading right now.  I mention words like vagina and bleeding in the same sentence below so if you're in any way squeamish, kindly piss off.

Last week I had to visit my GP because I had not had my period for two months.

Yes my friends, two months.

That is some scary ass shit.

I'm currently not on any form of contraception.  The mini pill makes me crazy, (I'm not joking, I literally turn into an even crazier, angrier, obnoxious arsehole and I cannot do that to myself or my family), and I'm still tossing up the mirena.  The last six months have not been fun for me and my poor broken body, so the thought of fooling around more just gives me the heebies.  I just wanted my body to have a break for a bit.  Obviously it didn't get the memo because I hadn't menstruated since the end of August.

Since late September I have done six pregnancy tests.  SIX.

When I had to take a day off work last Monday because I had the beginnings of a hormonal migraine and was so bloated and cramped and couldn't get out of bed properly, I thought finally it was on it's way, but alas, still no period by Tuesday morning. I decided it was time to face the music and made a Doctor's appointment.

After doing yet another pregnancy test at the surgery, my GP referred me for a blood test, just to be absolutely sure that I was not pregnant and in the event that my period had still not arrived, a pelvic ultrasound.  Remember this post here, where I waxed lyrical on my love of pelvic ultrasounds... needless to say, I was fucking thrilled.

At this stage I start freaking out that I am actually pregnant.  That seven pregnancy tests are all wrong and somehow, by some of cosmic joke, I've become pregnant and my life is literally over.  Of course I love my kids, but fuck me, I am so done.  Two is my absolute limit.  I have no room left in my heart, or my car, for more children.  And as I'm such a great birther (sarcasm) I'm not sure my body can handle any more drama in that department.

It's the longest 24 hours of my life.

When the GP finally calls to confirm that I am indeed, not pregnant, I almost weep for joy. She says she's never talked to someone who's so happy to NOT be pregnant and she laughs.  I cackle like the crazy person that I am and she tells me to make the ultrasound appointment.

The next day I get a call as they've had an appointment come up that day at 11. I head out, on a work day, to my appointment assuming I will be an hour tops.

Fun fact, your organs are mobile.  They do not just sit still inside your body.  Your uterus for example, moves around in your body.  Yes.  I know.  My mind was also blown.  It did help being told this whilst I had been laying on an uncomfortable trolley with no pants on whilst a woman has a probe in my vagina.  Yes, I have to have the transvaginal ultrasound because my uterus is being uncooperative and they can't get a clear picture of my endometrium.

Yes. You read that correctly, I had a woman, probe my vagina, for almost 30 minutes and Medicare covered it.  There is not enough wine in the world.

I am yet to hear the results of my ultrasound as my follow up GP appointment is tomorrow.

In true Jessica fashion however, my period arrived with a vengeance yesterday morning and I feel thoroughly disgusting.  My back is aching, I have a headache, and it's like a murder scene every time I go to the toilet.

This morning after changing my tampon every hour I gave up and went back to pads.

I know.  It's fucking gross.

And I'm not saying that periods are gross and being a woman is gross, it just feels messy and unpleasant and I haven't had my period for two whole months so it literally IS like a great white has attacked my nether regions and I feel nasty AF.  Why hasn't the human body evolved so women do not have to suffer through having blood come out of their vagina every month for 35+ years?  Like childbirth, it seems archaic and unnecessary!

Hopefully my visit goes well tomorrow... I will keep you posted!

Fake it till you make it!



3 Sep 2017

Truth

People keep asking me how I'm doing.  I lie to them.  I tell them I'm doing just fine.  I feel heaps better.  I am resting lots.

The truth is that for the last two weeks I've been crippled by anxiety attacks which can last for hours and I feel like the world's worst mother and partner.

I'm not sleeping well.  I wake up several times a night in a ball of sweat and nerves.  My legs feel like lead.

I don't know what bought this on. It has come out of nowhere, it didn't start when I left the hospital, it didn't start when my Mum left, it didn't start when Justin started back at work... I have no idea what is going on and to make matters worse, there doesn't appear to be a particular trigger.

I will be ok, watching TV, reading a story to the kids, prepping dinner, reading a book and all of a sudden I'm overcome with a violent urge to vomit.  I get lightheaded, my legs start aching, heat rushes to my face, heart goes like the clackers and I just want to lay on the ground.

Most times I do just that.

Lay on the ground.

I then obsess about how fat I've become, how I don't look after my kids properly, how my house is a mess, how my partner isn't getting enough attention, how I should be back at work already, how I miss having my family close by, how little money we have in the bank, how we'll never own a home, will we ever get married, why don't I talk to my friends anymore, why am I not doing anything with myself except falling apart on the unmopped floor...

I couldn't do my laying down thing as I walking the Strand this morning with my family so I tried to focus on the water and the sky and all the naturey things.  I did my deep breathing and kept putting one foot in front of the other. I have literally felt on edge all day.

I've been in a few social situations since this started and not had it happen either. So it's not the social/people thing.

When I told my GP he recommended that I speak to someone, which obviously I will do, but also reminded me that I've had a tough time with this operation and it's okay to feel overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed is one thing, crippling anxiety is another.

He gave me a script for some valium.

Which I've found not helpful.

So here I am.  Tomorrow I make an appointment to see a psych and hopefully the beginning of really feeling better.

I could go on about a lot of things here but I won't because I don't want to feel judged or have people worrying about me.  I'm actually ok and working on a plan.  I just needed to get it down and out because that's what I do.






25 Aug 2017

Sharing a Room

Just yesterday, the Mushroom announced that he'd like to sleep in the same room as his sister Molly so they both won't get scared.

He's currently going through some stuff.  Spiders, mice, darkness... you name it, he's scared of it.  He has a night light, mouse spray, spider spray, constant reassurance from us that there is no need to be scared of anything that is one hundredth of his size... (don't make me do Math, my head hurts) but you know what the rationale of a 4 year old is like...

Now I can count on one hand, how many nights Molly has woken up in the last month at night and I can count on one finger how many nights that Mushroom has slept in his own bed in the last 8 months.

WTF

I am opposed.  Vehemently.

Juffin thinks it's a good idea so we can turn one room into a play room and we can get all the f-ing toys out of the lounge room.

Between you and I, we know that the statement above will never happen.

So let's go through my reasons for not wanting to do this:

Mushroom has a night light
Molly is still in a cot
Mushroom still needs someone to sit with him when he goes to bed (Yes.  It's fucking ridicuolous.  Don't even get me started!)
Molly is a light sleeper
Mushroom is a nutcase and wakes multiple times at night and creeps into our bed, if we take him back he becomes hysterical and WILL wake another child who would be SOUNDLY SLEEPING in the same room
Molly is a fantastic sleeper and I literally cannot cope with one child in my bed let alone two.  I'm too fat.

Now I don't care that they're opposite sex, they're kids.  I think it's sweet that he wants to share a room with her.  I just don't think that my girl will enjoy having a room-mate.  She's a very independent little thing and I think she likes her own space. She is still breastfed before bed and literally says, nigh night Mummy when we put her down and she rolls over and goes to sleep.

Oh if the first born would do that!  We'd be in HEAVEN!

I guess we could trial it and if it's shit, go back, but will that stuff the good sleeper up forever?  I like my three hours of unbroken sleep!  I need it!!

What's your advice fellow parents?  What would you do?

Their hair is almost exactly the same colour!  





23 Aug 2017

Vibes

A month ago I went in to hospital to have my hernia repaired.

It was supposed to be day surgery but I packed a bag in case.

Juffin would say that I'm a pessimist but I'm actually a realist.  I've been to hospital many times before.

My hernia was much larger than they thought, no shock to me.  I was under for several hours and spent the afternoon feeling pretty fucking miserable in the planned procedure unit... which is not meant for overnight stay but apparently there were no beds. I had two drains because of the hole left behind after they stuffed my bowel and small intestine back where it was supposed to be.

I stayed there for two days.

At this point I would like to make an observation, please be nice to nurses. They're not arseholes sent to fuck with you, they're just doing their damn job and trying to look after you.  Don't be a dick.

I had sporadic phone reception, one book that I'd finished and no TV.  I was literally starting at the walls.  Juffin was busy kid wrangling and because I couldn't really reach anyone, and had no idea how long I would be there, I didn't reach out for entertainment.  It was the longest two days of my life.

Upon my return home, I realised how much fun it is recovering from major surgery with two children who constantly want to be on you and pull the tube that is still hanging out of your guts.

Yes.  I had to go home with a drain.

The following week I start to feel shady as shit.

I spend Tuesday night in a fever soaked delirium whilst also trying to deal with my teething 15 month old.  Life is good..

On Wednesday, the day my Mum arrives, 9 days after operation, the acute care Nurse who's been visiting me at home, tells me that I look like crap and if my temperature doesn't decrease I should go to the hospital.  After midday Juffin tells me it's time after taking my temperature and it's somewhere in the high 37's.  I text Mum and tell her we're going to Emergency and throw a book, nightie and undies in my bag.  Lucky.

In triage my temperature is 38.9.

Time to invest in a new thermometer.

I spend a few hours in ED, then the Short Stay Unit where I go to have a CT scan, then onto SCDU which means something like surgical criticial decisions unit or some such rubbish.  They're not sure if they need to open me back up see....

I'm taken up there pretty late, around 10ish or something, and the old dude they park me next to gets all ornery and keeps yelling out 'NURSE!  KEEP IT DOWN'.  Oh the irony.  He snores and wakes up frequently asking for coffee/orange juice/sandwiches at regular intervals.  He's an arsehole. If I hadn't been feeling so crap, I would have told him to keep it fucking down.

I spend another night in feverish delirium with Doctor's coming to see me as my temperatures spikes again up near the 39 mark.  I have cold sweats and then shiver uncontrollably.  It's pretty rubbish.

The next day I see my lovely surgeon again who asks me what the hell is going on, I joke and tell him he should have done his job properly so I don't have to be there again.  He puts me on hella IV antibiotics and I get the good drugs and am told I don't need to have more surgery, just need to rest, rehydrate and kill all the bad bugs.

I spend the rest of my time up on Surgical Ward One, in, get this, MY OWN FUCKING ROOM.  I was stoked.  The SCDU nurses said it was because I'm such a good patient, but I think it's because that's all they had, see?!  Realist.

I go home five days later, with the drain still in, yes, I hate that fucking drain.  My Mum is here, Juffin is best fiance/baby daddy ever, and my friends and work colleagues have sent flowers, food, chocolate...

Fast forward to today and I'm feeling beyond defeated.

I had my drain out 12 days ago and was feeling pretty good.

Now I'm not.  I went to my GP this morning as my guts has swollen up again and is tender AF, my legs are aching, I feel fatigued, dizzy spells, I'm not sleeping well and get up 4 times a night... things have gone downhill, again. GP recommended another 2 weeks off work and more rest but here's the kicker, Juffin got a job!  Yes!  And we're so fricking excited and proud of him but he starts next week and I can't look after the kids on my own and my MIL is away. I'm working on shuffling things around but he'll have to drop the kids off at daycare at 6.15 as he has to be at work by 7.  

I need to get better.  I'm sick of feeling like crap.  I'm over Juffin having to do everything while I roll around looking on and feeling helpless.  I feel like a useless turd.  This was supposed to be a day procedure and here I am a month later still feeling like absolute shit.  If I watch any more Netflix I will turn into the Cable Guy.  

Look I know I need to put things in perspective and I know that I need to stop feeling so sorry for myself but I'm currently spending most of my time on the couch watching Mad Men or in bed watching Mad Men and I could really do with some good healthy, healing vibes at the moment.  

And cigarettes.

And Canadian Club.

Ok, maybe not the cigarettes but yes to the Canadian Club.

Leaving hospital for the second time...


12 Jul 2017

Hard

What's that song? That saying?  Nobody said life would be easy, but nobody said it'd be this fricking hard either...  have I got that right?  I can't remember.  My brain is addled from lack of sleep, which is not children related for once, but stress induced insomnia.  

I love insomnia. 

Especially stress induced insomnia.  It's awesome.  I feel so well rested and able to face any challenges that life throws at me.... 

Due to circumstances beyond our control, we are now a one income family. 

My income. 

I only work 24 hours a week so there is not much income INCOMING... see what I did there?  

In fact our bills exceed my income so we are officially up shits creek. 

I have cried so many tears in the last three weeks that I've had to increase my water consumption so I don't get dehydrated. 

I fake smile so much that I can't remember how to smile properly and my face hurts.  

When people ask me how I am, I brightly say 'great' through gritted teeth and move on, because they don't really care anyway. 

It's getting really hard to 'be positive' and 'look on the brightside' when bananas are almost $4 a kg and my kids eat 4 kg a week and people complain to me about how expensive the cost of living is these days as they're sipping their $5.50 takeaway latte and I'm nodding along thinking how the fuck am I going to afford to buy food next week? That latte they're drinking is 1.25kg of bananas!  

To make matters worse, or better, I finally have a date for my surgery.  It's the week after next.  Hooray you say, and hooray I say but fuck!  Could the timing be any bloody worse?!    

On one hand, I really need Juffin to be home to look after me so him not working at the moment is a bit great, but on the other, I really need him to find work so we're not destitute and starving! Can you say catch 22?  Truth be told, in my current state, I could serve to starve for a few days, but my kids, my kids don't need to starve at all.  They need their bananas.  For the love of bananas! 

Surgery also requires recovery time. I really need to take the time and heal properly after this surgery. Which means no kid wrangling, washing, driving etc... I literally just have to lay around which is fine for a day or two but when you have small children, supremely difficult but I have never had proper recovery time after any of my multiple operations and I don't want to have a repeat of this shithouse experience.  

On top of all this drama we've been battling snot monster Molly who has started throwing tantrums already and koalas Juffin 24/7 and a defiant, ignorant Mushroom who won't do as he's told or listen to a damn word either of us say.  To counteract said ignorance, I yell, A lot and it seems to fall on even deafer ears and then I get super mad and my head almost explodes.  I must sound like a total psychopath to my neighbours.  Especially when I'm shouting, "get your fingers out of your bum it's not for playing!" at the top of my lungs. Really feeling like a stellar parent when that needs to be said more than one f-ing time.     

This week I've been plagued with the beginnings of a bad cold and I'm thoroughly sick to death of the shitshow that is my life.  My patience has worn so thin that you can actually see through it.  It's almost non-existent.  I will snap at the tiniest thing.  

So please universe. I would actually just really appreciate it if we could just get a break from the bad juju for a little while... say 45 years? That would be fantastic.  

We still have coffee, and that mountain of washing has been folded and put away.  So there.  




5 Jun 2017

36

I'm not a nice person.

Or a very good friend.

I spend a lot of time quietly despising myself for being jealous of my friend's successes.

Don't get me wrong, I know that they worked hard to get where they are, they sacrificed for their success, they toughed it out.

I just can't seem to get over the feeling that I'm woefully inadequate compared to pretty much everyone I know.

This is both depressing, and fucking pathetic.

I spent the better part of last week crying because a) I got my period and that is total and utter shit these days, b) with my period comes hormonal almost migraines which render me angry and drained, and c) I got the email from my online college telling me that time I had to complete my course had expired, and d) I had a birthday coming up and who can be excited about being one year older when they've achieved nothing.

I'm thoroughly sick of myself.

I hate feeling like this and I hate comparing myself to everyone else.

I also hate that I can't seem to do anything about it.

I don't honestly know how to move forward.

I think I've literally felt like this my entire adult life and that's awful.

I spend a lot of time wishing for things to be different but not actually doing anything about it.

It's exhausting.

Maybe I read too many books when I was a kid. My life is certainly not as exciting as Anne Shirley's or Trixie Belden's.  Disney deserves a mention too while we're at it...  And Ann M. Martin circa Babysitters Club fame!

I know that I have absolutely nothing to complain about, I have a great job, friends, supportive family, loving partner, healthy kids, roof over my head... what's wrong with me?!  I'm 36.  I had a fabulous birthday, I was feeling really good and then today, it hit me again.  I just keep thinking that there has to be more... but is there?  Is there more?  Do I need professional help?  How can I break this cycle of self loathing and ineptitude? I feel like I'm letting my family down because I'm constantly thinking that we're doing it wrong.  But we're not... are we?  This is just life right?  It doesn't have to be extraordinary...

First world problems?  Am I right?


36
I don't know what the point of this post is.

Or why I have a blog at all really.

I guess it just makes me feel better to write it all down and overshare on the internet.  Insert grimace face emjoi here.


22 May 2017

Monday Morning

I woke up at 5. That's not a great start.  My alarm goes off at 6.  Which means you pee, and then try to get back to sleep only to doze for what feels like 3 seconds and then the alarm goes off.

I could have easily stayed in bed.

I shower, put coffee on, put make-up on and then I go and get Molly.  This is when it gets fun...

Somewhere between 6.30 and 7.25 my household enters a void of time suckage where literally nothing is achieved and the yelling starts.  I'm yelling, Mushroom's yelling, Molly's yelling.  Juffin's taking his sweet arse time doing his hair or whatever and yelling at Molly to get out of the wet shower stall. Of course I have a full face of make up on and a nightie, because, children.

Between 7.25 and 7.32 there is actual progress and we usually manage to get out the door, fully clothed, children fed, and 15000 bags in tow.

I generally run back because I've forgotten important things like breast pump or coffee.

Today the Mushroom decided to drag his backpack out the door, despite me telling him repeatedly to stop dragging his backpack, and the screen door slammed back on his foot and grazed his heel.

Notice how I used the word grazed.

Because it was a graze.

Mushroom thought his foot had been removed.

Cue hysterical screaming and over the top drama with full body shaking, tears and screaming at high pitch.

At 7.30 in the morning.

And the oscar goes to.....

I am the mean Mummy who ACTUALLY doesn't have time for that bullshit.

Like no time.  We're already late, We're now on the wrong side of 7.35 and time is moving forward at a rapid rate.

I give him a cuddle, make sure there's no blood and then carry on.

Obviously I have not given him enough attention because it's ongoing for OVER 10 MINUTES.

Juffin is cuddling him, blah blah blah.  I tell him to stop it and tell Mushroom to cut it out.  I mean honestly, I'm a bitch.  That much is clear.

By the time I get to daycare drop off it's already 7.50.  I'm so late for work. I send a message saying that I'll be 15 minutes late, because, again, children.

I carry the 15000 bags and the smallest child to the door.  Mushroom is mucking about with his bag and jumper (it's 22c and apparently that warrants wearing a jumper, don't even get me started) Molly smells suspiciously like poo.

I am already late so we do the check in thing and then I change her bum myself.  Because I feel like it's weird to watch someone else change your child's bum.  Unless it's their other parent.

Kiss, cuddle, bye bye.  Over to the pre-prep room. lunch sorted, bag in locker, drink bottle out, hat on, sign the book, walk over to toddler room.. kiss kiss cuddle cuddle, bye bye...

I race back to the car and slump into the drivers seat.  It's 8.04.

Can I go home now?!

Should have known it was going to be bad when this was how we started 

15 May 2017

Remember me?

Hi guys!  Remember me?  I've just been over here trying to cope with the fact that my daughter is now one, and my son goes to school next year.

One!

School!

Where the fuck did the last 5 years go?  I have no clue.  I literally cannot fathom the passage of time.

Things that have happened since I last posted:


  • Juffin got a new job!  Huzzah! 
  • I started a book club
  • Mushroom started eating more vegetables
  • Molly turned 1
  • Nga (my Mum) came to stay 
  • Wine was consumed 
  • Our first family camping trip 
  • Mushroom went back to not eating vegetables
  • I got my hair done
  • I finally had my hospital appointment 

On Mother's Day my MIL took some photo's of us.  She's been begging me for ages and I just hate it.  I hate having my photo taken because in a photo, you can't hide the fact that I'm a whale.  It's a hard pill to swallow.  I mean you know that you're fat, but when you're looking at a photo of yourself and you're literally taken aback by what you're seeing.. I'm just quietly dying a little bit inside.   

So she took some photo's.  I wish I'd known and dressed better, put a nice plain shirt on Mushroom, got Justin in a button down, had Molly in some handmade, but they're not awful.  And while I am not happy with my appearance, I am happy that we are smiling.  I am happy that my kids are laughing and healthy and loved.  And I am happy that we've stuck it out and we're still here, together. 

Us - 2017


 




14 Mar 2017

Fridge

You guys.

My lovely partner, who is always right and so lovely and amazing, doesn't believe that we need a bigger fridge.


Please tell him he's wrong!

Important footnote: we already have a chest freezer not in use. We just need a standalone fridge and we'd be set.

It's hot here. All our sauces and condiments have to go in the fridge.

As does 90% of the fruit and all the vegetables.

All the baking, and bread have to fit too.

And the kids 15 million drink bottles.

Please, convince him. So that way when I win a squillion dollars, I can get a big ass one!

Pps that is my slow cooker bowl full of curried lamb ready to cook all day tomorrow while I'm at work.

I know. I'm fucking organised.

6 Mar 2017

Work Family

Red Velvet
Last week on Thursday I made cupcakes to sell at work.

Things have been tough, but I'm not going to go into details here.  There are people worse off than us and we have enough money to eat and pay our bills and honestly, I'm sick of harping on about it. It was a particularly tight week, we needed the money AND people have been asking for them.

Vanilla with Choc Ganache
So I made cupcakes.  I spent most of Wednesday night creaming things (butter and sugar, not my jeans), using lots of chocolate and butter and sugar and piping mountains of that sugary goodness onto smaller mountains of sugary goodness.

I sold most of them.  The Red Velvet is always super popular and I sold all 24 of those and only came home with 11 vanilla.  I should have just made the vanilla on vanilla like I was going to but I changed my mind at the last minute.

Anyway, I sent out an email to all my work mates thanking them for buying a tasty treat as we had been doing it a bit tough lately.  I only sell the cupcakes for $3 each, so hardly making a fortune, but every cent counts lately and I really do appreciate people spending their hard earned cash on my amateur baking.

Fast forward to today and my Manager came and found me and handed me an envelope.  She said it was just sitting on her desk with my name on it.

I found this inside:


You guys!!  I had tears streaming down my face. And had to steal one of my pod partner's tissues.

The gift card is for $75.  $75!!!

I don't know who gave this to me. They obviously don't want to be found out and I have my suspicions but I may never know.

Here's some truth for you all, it's hard returning to work after maternity leave.  The first time was hard, but I think this was harder.  You're leaving your babe for probably the first time, the logistical nightmare of getting kids (multiple) ready and getting to work on time, and looking like a human being and not a mumzombie.  Coupled with the lack of sleep, expressing breast milk and preparing food for all the family to eat during the day and then dinner when you get home... and that's not counting the actual work!

Your brain just doesn't function properly after you have a baby!  Add a workplace with lots of new faces, people in different roles, changes to processes and procedures and new reports and you just constantly feel a bit awkward, on the outs, like you missed the joke and you're standing on the outside grinning like a moron pretending that you get it.  That's been me at work for the last 6 weeks and working 3 days hasn't helped to alleviate that feeling either.

So whilst this gift card is an amazing gesture in itself, it has also made me feel incredibly loved and appreciated. Like I really am a part of the team. That people really care about what happens to me.

And I'm crying again now so I'm going to wrap it up.

I can't wait to repay the favour and pay this little kindness forward one day soon.

It's been like a big fluffy hug for me today and I so fucking needed it.



28 Feb 2017

Slip

Mushroom slipped over tonight.

On a piece of flat lego.

He howled for at least half an hour and I laughed silently for at least half of that time.  Until I realised that his howling would probably wake his baby sister and then I started hissing at him to stop carrying and be quiet.

Can you say Mother of the Year?

Also, can someone please explain why a four year old boy is moodier and has more attitude than a 14 year old girl?  Always with the dramatics!  He literally threw himself on the floor in a flurry of tears and howled.

I'm in serious trouble.

Unrelated, I hosted a Tupperware Party the other day and if I ever attempt to do that again, please tell me not to.  Stress on a whole other level.

I had so many baking fails. Like three fails, in three hours.  That's unheard of Jessica's kitchen.  So this is my note to self, don't host parties where you do all the food, including making pastry and don't apply for MKR 2018 cos I clearly can't cope with the pressure.

Just don't do it future Jess.

Please share with me your Mother of the Year moments.  I am still laughing as it was so comical watching him slide across the floor and do the splits.  I felt bad for a second but I was shuddering I was trying not to laugh so much.

Please tell me I'm not the only one....

Hey!  I'm super dramatic and insane!
Disclaimer:  The above photo was taken in the carpark at the pool.  I was not driving and taking selfies.

I only do that when the kids aren't in the car.

Just kidding.  I don't selfie in the car.  That's dumb. Don't do it.

13 Feb 2017

Keyboard Warriors

Last week I was privy to another Jess go through some major bullshit online after a media outlet picked up a story about her very young son getting hurt at the playground.

For those who didn't see this on various 'news' pages and the like, you can read one of them here.

Long story short, Jess' poor little boy burnt his feet on the black rubber matting at a local playground, she posted about it to warn other parents of the dangers of said playground and in the interest of helping out other parents.

No, he wasn't wearing shoes. And you can FUCK RIGHT OFF IF YOU ARE THINKING THAT THAT KID SHOULD HAVE BEEN WEARING SHOES.

Yes, children should wear shoes.  We fucking get it.  It's hot, needles, dirt, germs, snakes, cuts... blah blah blah!  Have you got small children?  Do you know how hard it is to get them to keep their bloody shoes on?!  I could NEVER get the Mushroom to keep his shoes on.  Ever!  He would pull them off in the car, as soon as we got to the park, walking around barefoot looking like an urchin all the damn time!

Hot tip, as much as we want them to keep their shoes on, kids will take them off at every damn opportunity.  That's not really the point of this post at all.

Hey Jess!  Thanks for info love, hope your little man is okay.

That is literally all that should have been said.

Instead, Jess bore the brunt of some pretty hateful comments via some 'keyboard warriors' who's children have never hurt themselves ever and have the most perfect spawn in existence.

AS IF!

If you feel like it's ok to get on a public page, and vilify another parent, when all they've done is share a warning, then you're not a good parent and you're a pretty shitty human being.

It's all well and good to scroll through your facebook page and roll your eyes, gasp, shake your head at someone's post, BUT it's quite another to stop, phrase a comment, type that comment and hit post to page.  And that's just your friends posts!  I rarely post on a public page, and even then, it's generally to share knowledge or love, not berate a total stranger and tell them what a shit parent they are. What a crappy thing to do!  If you do that shit, stop now!  Shame on you!  There are real people behind those stories and they're probably feeling shit enough as a parent without you piling on and making it worse.

I don't know Jess personally.  She is a friend of a friend.  She's also a shit-hot Mum and has an amazing facebook and insta feed that she shares with her sister Kellie.  You can find them on facebook here https://www.facebook.com/omgimthatmum/ and instagram here https://www.instagram.com/omgimthatmum/?hl=en  Go and give them some love!

Mum's, parents, we need to keep it real.  We have it hard enough, and we need to stop hating on each other and just accept that we are all in this together.  Thank people for the warnings, lend support, give constructive advice.  Don't judge, don't hate, and if you wouldn't say something to someone's face, don't say it online!!

Totally unrelated, here's a pic of my son as the Mona Lisa because lols...

6 Feb 2017

Working Mum

It's amazing how you just fall back into the swing of things.

Work, kids, housework... I'll give you one guess which of those three is lagging behind?  It's not work or kids.

I'm actually feeling pretty proud of myself.  I haven't been late to work once, I've gotten dinner on the table by 6.30 every night, I'm not buying coffee everyday. It's been ok so far, but I tell you what, the level of organisation is making me feel a bit nutso.

I hate being organised.  I'm a bit of a chaotic person.  I'm messy.  Cluttered.  Not dirty, just beautiful disarray.  Being a mother has forced me to pull my shit together.  I am up at 6 most mornings, breastfeeding a baby, showering and getting ready for work, then putting food in the slow cooker for dinner that night.  If the kids aren't awake by 7, Juffin wakes them up and gets them sorted with breakfast while I put my make-up on.  I can't go to work without make-up on. I literally can't.

I pack two lunchboxes the night before.  Lunchbox fillers include oat biscuits, banana bread or muffins, leftover pizza, sausage rolls, cheese, yoghurt, corn cobs, beetroot, olives, ham and cheese sandwiches, vegemite crackers, rice snacks, hummus, and fruit.  Most of the above is homemade.

I then organise Molly's milk.  She doesn't drink much during the day, thank goodness, so I can get away with sending 300mls of breast milk separated into 3 bottles.  I send a spare just in case,  I pump at work and in the evening just before bed.  Last week I donated 2 litres of breast milk to a lady who's baby has ties and won't feed properly.  I couldn't fit anymore in my freezer.

I take meat out for dinner the next day tidy up the lunchbox filling mess.  I also get some snacks together for myself to take to work.

I fold and snap nappies together and make sure I have enough for the day at daycare.  I pack a minimum of 10 nappies, even though they will probably only use 4 or 5.  You never know with babies. I check that she has enough wipes and bum cream and put an extra wetbag in just case.

I check Mushroom's bag and make sure he has his hat, sunscreen and shoes.

I wash and fill all the kids drink bottles, 7489 and counting, and put them in the fridge.

I then sit down to watch TV whilst I fold the washing.

Before bed, around 10.30, I pump and chat to my friends on facebook.  I finish pumping and wash up the rest of the dishes and put powder in the dishwasher.  I find Juffin in his study and say goodnight.

In bed I chat to my friends on messenger until I realise it's nearly 11 and my eyes are falling out of my head.  I turn the light off and settle down to sleep.

Just as I'm drifting off Molly starts squawking and Juffin goes in to try and settle her.  I always lay awake waiting for her to be quiet before I can go to sleep.  Sometimes it doesn't happen.  Like last night, I was up with her until after 1.  She wasn't having a bar of Daddy at all.

When I finally crawl back into bed I am exhausted.  Juffin tries to cuddle me but I'm too tired to move.

5 hours later I get up and do it all over again...  and I only work 2.5 days.

I salute you working Mums.  You are all fucking awesome and you deserve a pat on the back.

I'll also give a shout out to my Juffin, a man who walks in the door after a long, hot day, and is often greeted by an angry Mum who's had enough.  Thank you for working hard, thank you for trying, and thank you for never uttering a word of complaint.

Such a goodlooking bunch!

23 Jan 2017

Return

This morning I returned to work.

I spent the better part of my weekend baking, cooking, cleaning, washing, folding, ironing labels, pumping milk and getting organised.

I even pre-packed the slow cooker and put it in the fridge so all I had to do was put it in the case and turn it on.

Of course, because that's how these things work, at 11pm, just as I was crawling into bed, my daughter wakes up.

At first it's a little mewling here and there and then she's quiet.  We think that she's just having a yell and has gone back to sleep when the full blown screaming starts.  And I mean screaming.  Miss Molly has inherited Mum's lungs.

Juffin goes in and sees if he can settle her with a cuddle and a song.

Yes, he sings to her, I don't know what he sings but it works, most of the time.

Anyway, she settles quickly and goes back to sleep.  I go back to bed and try and relax, mentally running through all the things that I have to do in the morning to get to work on time.

The screaming starts again, she has realised Dad has gone.

He tries again but she's all worked up now and is not having a bar of it.

I go in.  I sing, I cuddle, I bum pat and hum, I lay on the floor next to her cot.

The crying continues.

It's now after midnight.

Administer paracetamol.

Juffin takes over again and I go back to bed and lay down but who can sleep with a baby screaming?

At 1am I go in and feed her so we can all get some bloody rest.  Boob and babies usually equals sleep but in this case it's not happening.  At 1.30 I give up.

She is fed, she is dry, she is loved, she is a shit and she needs to go the fuck to sleep.

I walk out and shut the door.

Screaming continues for another 15 minutes before Juffin can't take it any longer and he goes back in.  Exhausted I fall asleep.  It's after 2.

I have no idea what time Juffin finally gets into bed because I wake with a start to sun streaming in on my face and freaking out that my alarm has stopped working.  Alas it's only 5.  Unfortunately I then just lay there, unable to go back to sleep for fear I won't wake up in time to get myself and the kids ready for work and daycare.

So my first day back.  I have maybe 3.5-4 hours sleep.  My makeup melts off before I even get out the door, Mushroom is attempting world record as slowest shoe putterer on-nerer and Molly won't co-operate with nappy cream application and/or nappy snapping.

I am yelling, it's 7.50 and I wanted to be leaving by this time.  Kids don't care.  I throw my work clothes on and I herd slowest small human alive into vehicle and then load the 17000 bags that contain the necessary items to get my kids through the day and we get in the car.

Sweat is dripping off my face and I make it to the roundabout before I realise that I've left my glasses behind and I can't be staring at a computer screen all day with no glasses.  I have to go back to get them.  I turn around and burn back to the house.

"Why are we going back home Mummy?"

"Because I'm a fucking idiot" I grunt under my breath.

"What Mummy?  What you say?"

"Mummy forgot her glasses darling. I just have to go back and get my bloody glasses.."

I locate glasses.  As I'm rushing around my tummy grumbles and I find that my toast is still sitting on the bench uneaten so I grab that and I also spy my coffee.

Coffee that has not yet been consumed.

That's why my brain isn't working. Not enough caffeine. The 3.5 hours sleep has nothing to do with it....

Here's where I would talk about dropping my daughter off at daycare for the first time but I may cry.  So I won't.  I really wanted to find my girl a small family daycare, just like I did for Mushroom, but it just didn't happen. I couldn't find anywhere close enough and driving all the way across town and doing a separate drop off with Mushroom wouldn't work.

I'm not saying that the centre is bad, it's just not what I would have preferred for my baby girl.

Anyway we survived, she survived, she slept, she ate, she cried.  I got blisters because I haven't worn shoes in so long...

Our little bubble has burst and on Wednesday we do it all again...

We're not tired.  Sleep is for the weak!





16 Jan 2017

Bananas

Remember when you were a kid and you felt sick and your Mum would say have a glass of water and eat a banana?

I don't have to do that in this house because you know what guys?  I spent 20 fucking dollars on bananas in the last 10 days.  TWENTY DOLLARS!!  ON BANANAS!

I know when my kids are sick because they WON'T eat a banana.  If my kids won't eat a banana, then they're on their death bed.

My son and daughter will literally inhale bananas.  I've never seen food disappear so quickly.  If I didn't supervise and limit the banana consumption, it would be 4 or 5 a day, each, easy, I shit you not.

I have to buy bananas 2.5kg at a time... Massive bloody bunches of the things. The one's that don't get hoovered up in 2 seconds flat turn into Banana Muffins or Banana Bread, or Banana Oat Cookies... or Banana fucking smoothies.

And you know what?  As a result of all the banana eating, I fucking hate bananas.  I'm sick to death of them.  I can barely stand the smell of banana baked products anymore and I've had enough of making them.  I have been baking some sort of banana product every week for 3.5 years.  I don't need a recipe anymore.  And now Molly loves them too so I'm destined to bake banana products forever more.

There is no point to this post.

Obviously.

I just wanted to voice my disgust with all things banana related.

Ugh.

Baby Banana Monster



8 Jan 2017

Another Year

Happy New Year to one and all!  Another year is over, where did the time go?  I was going to post about how shit it's been, but ya'll have read my blog, so you know that the shift from one to two children has not been easy for me.

Well that's not entirely true, to be fair on Molly, I honestly don't think that the addition of her to our family has made life that much harder.  It's the financial issues that we have faced this year and the stress that comes with not knowing how you're going to pay your bills and afford to feed your family, that's what has made 2016 particularly hard.  It's sadly all consuming but we are still very lucky.  We both still have work and a roof over our head thanks to my very, very, understanding and generous parents and help from our families.

I have learnt so much about myself in the last 12 months.  One of the biggest realisations is that I don't handle stress well.  I cry. A lot.  And I eat.  I also lash out at my partner more than what's fair and try to blame him for all that's wrong with the world.  I don't sleep enough and I lay awake tying myself in knots worrying about things I can't change until the baby wakes up.  I don't look after myself and spend way too many hours on my smartphone comparing my life to everyone else's and wishing I hadn't eaten that second muffin.

None of this is healthy, I know.  It's like I've been in some sort of holding pattern waiting for something to happen, but reality has hit.  I'm back at work on the 23rd.  Yep.  Work.

I am scared to put my uniform on because let's be honest, it probably won't fit.  Sausage Jess it will have to be.  I have tried exercising but when you can feel your stomach popping in and out of a hole whenever you bend at the waist, you don't really want to continue.  I should probably curb the eating and I WILL try.  Try being the operative word.

It's been a mad rush this week but I've organised for Molly to go to the same centre as Mushroom.  I tried in vain to find family daycare for her, and came up short.  I'm not willing to travel 20+km when I'm only a 7 min drive away from my office now.  At least this way they're both across the road and I can duck in when needed.  I've been expressing quite regularly so have quite a good freezer stash of breast milk going... I'm a bit nervous.  I'll be honest.  Molly hates being away from me and whenever she has spent time with my MIL she cries the whole time and sleeps 20 mins at most.  Fingers crossed for a smooth transition...

Assisting with my good moods has been the addition of agonising pain leading up to and during my period which is only since having Molly. I don't think the hernia is helping but I'm pretty sure this is just the way my body is going to be now. This week I was in so much agony I could barely get out of bed.  Breast feeding means I can't take much in the way of pain relief so I feel really excellent. Endometriosis is super fun.  My Doctor has recommended a mirena but I'm nervous due to the mental factor and I already have issues controlling my emotions.  I was hoping that Juffin would get the snip and we'd be all good but due to my ongoing issues with my girly bits it seems like I may have to get the mirena so my pain and other symptoms settle down.  Being a girl is awesome... not!

So I want this year to be different.  I have tried to be positive and active but my body hasn't been co-operating.  I don't have new year's resolutions but there are a few changes that I want to make in 2017.  I'm hoping that these changes will help me cope with things a little better and be happier within myself
  • Spend less time on social media and more time connecting with friends and family in real life and on the phone. 
  • Spend more time outside 
  • Incorporate patience into my life, particularly with my kids and my partner, as I seem to have patience everywhere else but at home.  
  • Be kind to myself
  • Do more good deeds 
  • Start reading books again 
And, last but not least, I hope to blog more!  Sharing my blog with you, and sharing in this way in general is so cathartic.  It makes me feel less alone.  Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and shared my blog over the last year and beyond.  It means the world.  It really does.  

 Hopefully more of this in 2017!