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