Things I said that I deserved a punch in the head for.... A tribute to Mothers Day

As Mothers Day fast approaches, the following statements were my pearls of wisdom prior to having kids....


I'm never giving my future child junk food. I could make a much better "Happy meal" at home.

I am going to take my baby with me everywhere. I'll strap them onto my chest and we will travel the world. We will be best friends.

I think I could probably home school my kids... they will be geniuses.

My kids won't be "Like That".

Being at home with the baby will be easy, I can study and start a whole new career.

I will make sure my child has started an instrument at 3. Its very good for their future development.

Treat them like adults, take them to fancy restaurants and cultural events and they will learn to behave correctly in these places.

I don't see how there can be that much difference between a cloth nappy and Huggies?

I dont think time out is necessary, surely you can just calm them down and explain?



BWHHAAAHAHAHAA.... aw I crack myself up.....

Reality was a very different thing. I honestly felt like I needed a standing ovation, trophy and a friggen scratch and sniff sticker every time we all left the house not covered in food /snot, with brushed teeth and pants.

There was a time, shortly after birth, alone in the dark pit of the very very early morning... when I realised just what a twat I had been.

If you haven't had kids yet but think you will... Shut up, just shut up and to all the Parents, Here is a trophy and applause!

Don't steal imaginary Unicorns

What would you say to your childless self to prepare you for parenthood?

What piece of advice do you wish you had received, before the baby bomb hit?

and "Don't do it" doesn't count ok?

I have a couple of stories that best some up my parenting experience.

After giving birth to Leah (number 1 girl). We left the hospital, Dave was driving. Well he was trying. He was going so slowly and being so careful, like 45 kms. I think he may have even yelled out the window a couple times "I have my baby in the car!!!" to annoyed people flying past. The Dad responsibility hit him all at once, while driving. I was heart warmed and amused all at once. He now drives like he's trying to claim pole position, so it didn't last all that long.


Fast foward a couple of years and I stink. That sickly foul smell of baby vomit. It's on me somewhere, but I can't find the source. I've changed clothes, but it didn't help. Crap I need a shower. I put a 2 month old Brianna into the baby jail (playpen) for her own safety and protection from the craziness that is toddler Leah. I barricade Leah in the lounge room so she can't destroy more of the house. I jump in the shower for 5 minutes.
I come out of the shower to find Leah dropping steak knives onto her baby sisters head. Somehow she had escaped the barricade, opened a child proofed draw in the kitchen and decided to "give" them to her baby sister. I still stunk.


Another time, I was ready to go out with Mum, I didn't smell, I was wearing actual clothes and I think I may have even brushed my hair, so winning. Mum notices I have a brown mark on my hand. She points it out a little warily, asking "what is that???". "Im not sure....." I said and I licked it... 
"Oh, its cool, its vegemite".  Mum was looking at me horrified... "But what if it hadn't been???????". 

Mums of toddlers, Just. Don't. Care. 

Now that I've covered the gross part.

I think this next story is the best for explaining the futility and powerlessness that parenting can sometimes be.

The girls are about 6 and 7. They are screaming and crying, a full on fight. "What is it??" "whats the matter?" I enquire. 
Brianna, sobbing, says  "Leah, stole my imaginary unicorn and now I don't have one".   20 minutes, I tried to explain that she can have whatever imaginary things she wants. But No, she wanted that one....
How do you fix that? I was done. So, done. I made Leah give it back and told her off for stealing the imaginary Unicorn.

As they get older, it is easier sometimes. I can sit down and drink a coffee while observing them playing, hell, we travelled around the world with them and only had a couple of hair raising incidents and not too many "Please adopt my children" moments. 
But the problems we do have are bigger. We no longer have tantrums over which dress to wear, we have instead "Mum am I fat?" or "Why are people mean to me" or "Why can't I keep up with the rest of the class? Im so stupid", "Why did Vovo die?". These are less immediate but scarier problems, a kiss and cuddle doesn't fix this.

So what would I say to the clean smelling, bright eyed past me?

"Don't lick your hand woman...It could have been poo!"

Do you even lift??

Pretty much my whole body is a collection of muscles that need work. Some more than others. So, Ive decided to start on one area in particular.

It is possible to work and tone these muscles using weights.

"So what?"you say? ... No this blog is not turning into a fit bunnies account of her own arse in various stages of roundness. Its worse.

I am talking about my pelvic floor. 
For the most part, I am a proud owner of my girlie parts and its not a big deal, really, until I decide I need to jump, skip or go for a jog.

For all the male readers that I may have somehow attracted to my blog and who have now realised that I am talking about "girlie bits", it's ok, It's funny.

So, one late night, I read an article about "that kind" of weight lifting to help train and tone those muscles.

Obviously, you can't just attach your nearest dumb bell on a string a walk around. So I order the beginners kit, sneakily, and hope that Dave doesn't ask what the extra $$ on the credit card were.

He did. I watched as the potential, hopeful gleam in his eye turn into absolute, belly clutching, roll on the floor laughter. Followed by cheeky questions about "How buff is it going to get?" and future texts asking if "I even lift?".

So, its early days. I can't exactly hop on the scales to track progress. But its the easiest work out Ive ever had to do and gives a whole new meaning to working out.


I'm blushing and already wondering if I will have the guts to publish this... If you ever actually read this particular post, than cheers to you in partaking in my overshare.

And heres to "Buff Vags" everywhere.

P.S If you're a little nuts like me and in the same boat, contact me and I can let you know the brand.