Working it Out

In no particular order, here are some things I've learned this year since becoming a 'working Mum'*: Getting out of bed at 5.35am means that I've slept in, and am already running late. Separation anxiety peaks around 10-15months of age. I found this out, of course, only after we had started barely-10-months-old Angus in daycare. … Continue reading Working it Out

Advertisements

Guiding Hand

"Back when Angus was still Cletus the Foetus, my dreams for his future were modest: Captain of the Wallabies, Australian Prime Minister, and a Nobel prize of some description..."

Song of our Leprechaun

"Our little boy is learning to talk. To Andy's joy and my chagrin, "Dad" was the first word Angus formed. I was slightly mollified when "Mum" was second on the list, albeit quite a few weeks later. And then Andy and I found ourselves both being called Mum and Dad interchangeably - I'm proud that my son refuses to pander to gender stereotypes..."

First Tooth

As I dropped Angus off at the gym creche this morning, I was excited to tell the minder, "I just noticed downstairs - Angus has cut a tooth this morning!" The minder gives me a look, and replies, "That tooth was there when you dropped him off yesterday..."   #parentfail #thetoothhurts 

Our first splash…

Today was the day of our very first baby swim class. I've always loved swimming myself and, back in my oh-so-innocent, didn't-know-that-motherhood-is-nothing-but-work-work-work days, I had a few 'warm and fuzzies' daydreaming about how lovely it would be...

💩💩 This shit ain’t bananas 💩💩

Shout out to my lovely cleaner who didn't bat an eyelid yesterday as I ran around shirtless, clutching a naked Angus, inside and outside of the house, with poo smeared across my arm. "Just let me know if I need to go back over and clean anything again." #justanotherthursday #theladyisagem #howmuchpoocanonelittlebodyhold

Two Tales of a Morning

The following passages are true, unedited excerpts taken directly from the daily journals of Bec and Angus. For clarity, Angus's entries are presented in blue italics while Bec's remain in plain font (Angus won the coin toss)...

Sleeping in the Guano

"...Clearly, so many of us parents, new and experienced, are being driven a little north of bat-shit crazy in our quest for the holy grail - a baby that achieves the quantity and quality of sleep it needs, while we also get the quantity and quality of sleep we need..."

Let Sleeping Baby Lie

...Before Angus commenced his roll down my Fallopian tube, my personal exposure to infants had been quite minimal. Mostly, it was limited to politely refusing when parents asked whether I wanted to hold their baby...

💖 💖 Thank you, Angus 💖 💖

...I don't have too many qualms now about heading out the door in clothes I've slept in, clothes spattered with spit up (wet or dried, neither fazes me) or sans a skerrick of make-up. Really, the general public should just be thankful that I make the effort to put a bra and underwear on...

Java, java, java!

I have been sitting in this cafe for 90 minutes now, I'm reaching the end of my third mug of coffee and I don't intend to leave any time soon. My little beast is, finally, sleeping soundly and I would rather burst my bladder than disturb his slumber...

Won’t Somebody Think of the Children? 

Andy and I are finding out just how hard it is to give all of your children equal affection and attention, all of the time. Especially when one of them demands your input into every mouthful, your assistance with cleaning up every excretion, and relies on you as his primary mode of transport.

Jabbity jab jabs

... Nope. I was as cool and as clinically objective as Dr Cucumber. Son, if it hurts then that's just the needles doing their job. Short term pain for long term gain. Get a cup of cement, Master Angus, and harden up...

Genetics

On the fact that Angus looks so much more like Andy and his family, than me and mine: Andy: "I'm glad that I married such a genetically recessive woman."