Totally lame and pathetic, but today has been busier than planned.
She says, like that's different to any other day.
So in a complete cop-out, I'm reposting the blog I wrote this time last year.
Last year, when I was carrying my little peanut safe inside, enduring the 6 weeks of pre-labour and starting to wonder just why I thought I was up for this gig in the first place...
Enjoy and apologies,
Happy Monday!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
LAUNDRY - MUNDANE AND YET IT CONSUMES ME
There are a few things a
SAHM (Stay At Home Mum for those not up with the latest acronyms) should be
able to do.
1.
Whip up a
microwave brownie without taking a single step because your human has
permanently attached him or herself to your legs. (I’ve got some awesome matrix
moves down as I arch back, brownie in one hand and open the microwave door with
my nose).
2.
Get
weetbix-cement out of the ridges in the table (such a bad idea to let Q feed
herself, but her independent streak and 8 teeth by 6 months really work against
me).
3.
Do
laundry. And not just do the laundry. Do it successfully. ie things are clean
after you’ve washed them.
This is not the case with
yours truly, and it’s actually starting to get to me. Worse still is that all
Q’s clothes are second-hand and came to us in pristine condition. No chance
I’ll be passing them on again.
How embarrassing.
Q’s a bit rough on clothes
I’ll admit, but I spray, I scrub, I soak, I leave them to stew for a day or
two, I even tried a warm wash and still some of the stains remain.
This is not rocket science.
This is something most people do at least once a day. All over the world. And
some people don’t even have washing machines.
What am I doing wrong?
Why won’t these stains
disappear?
And why do I care?
Because I see it as a reflection on me as a mother that’s
why.
How pathetic.
When is this mother’s guilt
going to subside?
Oh never, I hear you say.
Wait till you do something really dastardly like send her to school with the wrong
type of socks.
At least now she’s too
young to know people tut-tut me as they pass us by. Silently observing my child’s
dusty knees, grass-stained top and dirt-mired pants.
Still, it’s a tough battle
to wage.
| In that case...I'm the supermum |
Lazy parenting versus
extreme cleanliness.
I suspect the two are
mutually exclusive.
And so, I fear that nothing
much will change.
Now excuse me while I go
and hang out my third load of washing.
Is there such a thing as a clean
stain???
POPUP RESTAURANT, THE BEAN, ROZELLE
Last night The Bean in Rozelle held their first dinner and it was a delicious lettuce soup on arrival, champagne popping, hazelnut parfait with salted caramel sold-out success!
Next dinner is Thursday 20th of October and it's already filling up fast.
I don't think the new menu is up on the website yet, but Gregory has been plotting and planning it for weeks.
I know it involves lavender, prawns, edible flowers and meringue.
But not necessarily all together.
I hope.
I'm a little biased since I married the bloke, but he does know how to turn out a delish dish.
Hope you can join him.
Next dinner is Thursday 20th of October and it's already filling up fast.
I don't think the new menu is up on the website yet, but Gregory has been plotting and planning it for weeks.
I know it involves lavender, prawns, edible flowers and meringue.
But not necessarily all together.
I hope.
I'm a little biased since I married the bloke, but he does know how to turn out a delish dish.
Hope you can join him.
Labels:
POPUP RESTAURANT,
SYDNEY RESTAURANTS,
THE BEAN
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
SYDNEY MORNING HERALD PUBLISHES MY TRIFLE RANT
All self respecting dessert lovers hate trifle, and my little rant about it is today's Heckler in the Sydney Morning Herald
Very exciting indeed!
Very exciting indeed!
Labels:
MISCELLANEOUS,
SYDNEY MORNING HERALD,
WRITING
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
CAR TUNE-UPS FOR MOTHER'S BODIES - COULD IT WORK?
‘I want to lose 13 kilos,’
says my friend the other day.
‘Wow. That’s a lot,’ I
reply. ‘You’ll be really skinny.’
‘I know. I want people to
look at me and wonder if I’m sick.’
Please take this statement
in the vein it was intended.
This is coming from the
mother of a ten month old who is determined to rid herself of the few pesky
kilos desperate to remain friends with her waistline.
It’s amazing how attached
they can get. Friends for 9 months and they think you want to be friends
forever.
Of course sometimes you
encourage them, by your breastfeeding-induced addiction to all things carby,
starchy (and come 3pm) sugary, but it’s not a genuine bid for friendship. It’s
a fickle one. Like so many you see in the playground depending on who’s got the
latest cool toy.
Except extra kilos are not
a toy. Even if your husband calls them love handles.
(Although if he’s got half
a brain in his head he won’t).
Some mothers breastfeed the
weight away, others stress it out. Yet more walk it off with hours of
incidental exercise otherwise known as ‘the desperate attempt to tire your
child out’.
Whatever way you do it, the
unfortunate truth is that while you may eventually breakup with those extra 13
kilos, your body will still never ever be the same again.
You grew a human inside you.
And then you got it out, one way or another.
Imagine pulling the engine
of a car out through its chassis.
Would you not expect a few
things to get rearranged in the process?
Muscle separation…hip
rotation…scar tissue (or scare tissue as I think it should be called).
Bugger the thirteen kilos,
I need a total realignment.
Wheels, bonnet, gear box
and all.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
LAZY PARENTING - IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?
Parenting is surrounded by
buzzwords these days.
Honestly, if you saw an ad
looking for a kid in the Herald, you wouldn’t apply for quids.
It’d read something like
this:
Seeking young human.
Primary care from external source accepted, but ability to grasp concept of
self-sufficiency highly desired.
Must be capable across a
range of disciplines including independent play, structured learning, language
recognition and development, child socialisation and more.
It's all a touch much for this mama.
And yet still I get caught
up amongst it, fretting I’m not exposing my child to a wide enough range of
influences and experiences.
‘Am I doing enough?’ I
ponder aloud to my father the other day as we watch Q entertain herself with
the recycling box. ‘Should I be obsessively trying to get her to clap? It was a
milestone months ago but Q is yet to show any interest in it, or sit still long
enough for me to show her how.’
‘Imagine if everything she
knows is because it was shown to her,’ replies my ever sensible father. ‘What about
discovery? I prefer things to be caught not taught.’
Caught not taught.
I like it.
Caught not taught.
Discover don’t dictate.
Or as some people would no
doubt call it…
Lazy parenting.
If you’re down with this
method, read on.
If not, better scurry off to enrol your super-human in a cross-stitch
course taught in Indonesian, squashed in between learning to swim and music appreciation class.
·
supervised play –
throw your kid in the pram, stop off for the ever important takeaway coffee,
meet likeminded primary carers in the park, turf the kids onto the grass and
let ‘em have at it. Bonus points if you don’t stop them eating dirt. Because if
that’s not an excellent way to discover the distinct lack of nutritional value
in soil well then, I don’t know what is.
·
child socialisation –
aka hang out with your family and get them to watch Q while you take advantage
of having two arms and make yourself a cup of tea.
·
Independent play –
plonk ‘em in the middle of the floor and see what they do. Bear in mind they’ll
likely ignore the box of toys and head straight for the power cords, vase of
flowers and wine bottles.
·
Language recognition and development – narrate everything with a really bad song. They
don’t care how bad it sounds, and since their language is still developing,
they can’t tell you even if they do.
·
Fine motor skills – dump
out the Tupperware drawer onto the floor while you’re preparing dinner. (Or
making 4 minute microwave brownies, whatever). Add a couple of tins of tuna and
a few saucepan lids to round out the selection and watch ‘em go. No specific
outcomes required.
·
Spatial awareness –
plop them on the ground while you’re hanging out the laundry and time how long
it takes them to find a Slater. Whether or not you let them eat said Slater is
up to you. (See above point about dirt).
Jury is still out as to
whether this laissez-faire attitude works or not.
Get back to me in another
thirty years or so, because really, the measure of your success as a parent is
really not determined until your child becomes an adult themselves.
Oh sure, some kids look
like they’re better on track than others, but whose to say those others aren’t
on their own path of self-discovery.
Forging a brave,
unchartered front, highly intellectualised and thought out, based equal parts on
instinct and laziness and without a single buzzword in sight.
Caught not taught people,
caught not taught.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE
It could have been worse.
Does anyone remember
Pollyanna anymore?
You know, the girl from the
books. She was an orphan I think and went to live with her aunt. Or someone.
Anyway, somewhere in the
town, lived a cranky old woman who was perpetually sick and as
cantankerous as the bedsores she was probably sitting on. Pollyanna, in her
impertinent way, made friends with this lady and introduced her to ‘the glad game’.
‘The glad game ‘is a game
where no matter what the circumstance is, you find a way to be positive about
it.
It’s completely cheesy, but
I have to admit, for many years now, I’ve been playing it too.
I’ve always been a ‘glass
is almost full’ kind of kid; I’m too lazy to be upset, it requires too much
energy.
Here’s how I play the game
with my recent experience…
·
I could
have gotten sick when my mum was teaching and then I wouldn’t have had anyone
to look after Q.
·
My
husband could have been unwilling to move to his in-laws for 6 days so I could
recuperate
·
It could
have been glorious warm spring weather. Rain and cold meant I could lie on the
couch in tracky-dacks and not feel like I was missing out on anything while
simultaneously managing to cover my dreadful, ugly full-body rash.
·
It was
only acute bronchitis. Very close to pneumonia, but it wasn’t. That would have
really sucked.
·
Could have happened right before we were
heading OS in which case I would have had to delay my departure for sure.
See how it works folks?
Suddenly having breathing difficulties, a head to toe magnificently itchy rash
and serious exhaustion doesn’t seem so bad after all!
Try it peeps, see if it
works for you.
Have a great weekend.
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