I gave him one packet of food.
He wants another packet.
I said no.
He said yes.
I said no.
He said he will bite my feet.
I hid my feet.
He said he can wait – feet will have to come out from under the cushion sometime.
I gave him one packet of food.
He wants another packet.
I said no.
He said yes.
I said no.
He said he will bite my feet.
I hid my feet.
He said he can wait – feet will have to come out from under the cushion sometime.
So the kids wanted to be slugs and sit in the car instead of coming in to order their pizzas. Big mistake. HUGE mistake. Designating moi to order on their behalf.
So I did.
And the look on their faces when I told them what I ordered is totally worth it. They are now sitting in the car, glaring at me as I wait in the comfort of the pizza shop.
I told them I opted for the make your own range and have ordered the following 😉
For Tilly: burnt and crispy base, garlic sauce + mayonnaise, with pineapple, olives (extra salty), extra mushrooms and lots of feta and Parmesan cheese for that delicious sweaty feet and vomit aroma.
For Mish: burnt and crispy base, scrambled eggs with pineapple and minced organ meats, smothered in pesto and garnished with chick peas and oysters.
If looks could kill right now 😂😂😂
Seeing as it is Mother’s Day today, I thought it would be fitting to share a speech I had written and delivered at a Womens Expo in October 2013.
Motherhood: Instructions not included.
23 Oct 2013
Good morning. My name is Mrs. Matilda and Hamish’s mum…or Jasmine for short. I was invited today to share my experience as a stay at home mum.
With my youngest ready to start school next year, I have found myself reflecting on the past seven years as a stay at home mum; what I have learnt, and what is yet to come. It is a bittersweet moment for me as I’ve watched my babies grow and start school. At times testing, motherhood is a very rewarding role. You learn to parent as you go along. There will be many a long day and sleepless nights, but all will be worth it in the long run. All your preconceived notions of parenthood will change – just go with the flow.
During my time as a stay at home mum, I have learnt the following:
Despite your mother-in-law informing you after you find out you are pregnant that all her babies were over nine pounds, your obstetrician will only laugh at you when you request to have an epidural eight months in advance…Oh how he laughed…
Pregnancy and baby books are guides only. Your instincts should be listened to always. No one knows your baby better than you.
Celebrity magazines lie! Your abs will not immediately reappear after giving birth. Don’t pack midriff tops in your hospital bag. Embrace the tummy, for it is there for bub to rest on when feeding and cuddling. Enjoy your new baby and please don’t stress about losing the weight.
If your baby is breast fed, don’t stand with them near busty statues or store mannequins. Babies are very opportunistic!
When you become a mum, you will soon learn to understand the meanings of your baby’s and husband’s cries.
Your clothes make the best wipes for little grubby hands and runny noses.
Teething pain can be eased by biting mum, hard.
Sometimes going out can wait, and it is better to have a feed, nappy change and sleep instead. Don’t sweat the small stuff.
I know every word of every song by The Wiggles, and while I felt bad for Sam, I was secretly happy to see Greg return as the Yellow Wiggle.
I can now speak basic Spanish thanks to Dora the Explorer, and if I am ever in doubt, I sing out for map or backpack. Never trust Swiper the Fox. Ever.
Whilst funny at first, blueberries are not meant to be stuck up nostrils.
If it has shelves, it will be climbed.
If it is a drawer, it will be emptied.
If it makes noise and lots of it, then it is the best thing ever. If it is too quiet, whine at mum before crawling off for the pots and pans cupboard.
If something is broken then get mum to fix it. If you broke it, hide it and blame your sibling when mum finds it.
Walls are great for drawing on. When mum gets cranky just remember that everyone’s a critic and go find another crayon.
As a mum you will get to know the staff at the poisons info hotline on a first name basis. And if your toddler finds and eats six herbal kids’ cold and flu tablets, their poop will be fluorescent green for the next week.
Two words: stain remover.
If your toddler has lost their favorite toy, it will be in your handbag. If you have lost your phone, purse or car keys, they will be in the toilet.
When your toddler no longer requires nap time during the day, they handle the change better than mum!
Nudie runs after bath time are a must. For those of you wanting to have a baby, I recommend you try bathing and worming a feral cat whilst wrestling an octopus to get an understanding of what it is like to bathe and clothe a toddler.
Let your toddler dress themselves. Miss-matched socks, shoes, clashing colours and prints with scruffy hair will all make for some great photos to show on their 18th birthday.
You will never know the excitement like that of when your toddler starts using the potty. I would then also liken the nerves of going shopping with a newly potty trained toddler to that of a bomb squad trying to diffuse a bomb. Only a matter of time before an explosion.
Don’t read Roald Dahl’s The Witches to your toddler. They will begin to publicly accuse every elderly lady of being a witch!
Play-doh, dirt, cat food, shoes and foliage from the botanic gardens are all part of the toddlers essential diet.
Cereal tastes better for dinner.
An audience in the bathroom becomes normal.
“Hide and seek is the greatest game!” said no mum ever.
Mum cuddles and kisses fix everything. Stop and listen to what your children are wanting to tell you. If you listen to your children, they will listen to you.
My daughter believes cleaning gives you wrinkles “Mum you clean all the time and you have lots of wrinkles!” Thank you Tilly, I love you too.
After explaining why the boy guinea pigs need to be spayed, my daughter later informed me that when she gets married she will get the vet to spay her husband. So cute…She thinks we are going to let her get married. We’re not even going to let her date!
Little boys are fearless. When the floors are being mopped, it becomes the perfect opportunity to work on some epic parkour moves. You get bonus points if you can get mum to run across the damp tiles to catch you mid-leap.
Cars and dinosaurs take up shelf space in the fridge on hot days.
Broken collar bones heal in about six weeks. This means that in six weeks your son will be back on the trampoline trying to attempt the same somersault dismount that broke his collar bone in the first place!
Fairies are real, and to get rid of monsters under the bed, spray them with water
Patience is a virtue. Eventually you will all get out of the house…once you find your son’s favorite pair of sneakers. In saying that, you start getting everyone ready to go out hours in advance!
Because I said so! Is a legitimate answer to your child’s constant questions.
Mum’s have superior conflict resolution skills, dispensing firm but fair justice. Also known as the “time out chair”.
Thank goodness for the game Angry Birds.
Your children laughing will make you laugh.
You learn to grocery shop like a ninja – quick enough before the kids realize that they have bypassed the toy aisle.
Saturday nights are the best because it is family movie night and camping in the lounge room.
Head lice are annoying, and treating outbreaks with mayonnaise will not only kill the lice but leave you craving for a salad.
White furniture makes parents uneasy. Delicate décor makes parents neurotic!
Be proud when people compliment your child’s good manners. Imagine how proud my husband and I felt when after dinner, both our children went to take their plates to the kitchen…did I mention we were dining at a restaurant?
Seven year old daughters thrive on drama and four year old sons thrive on causing it.
My motherhood motto has become “I don’t negotiate with terrorists”.
And finally…Your babies don’t stay little for long. So cuddle and kiss them often. Play games and laugh. Enjoy being with them. See the world new through their eyes. It goes by so fast. During the testing moments, remind yourself that this to, shall pass. Soon you will find yourself with a child ready to start school, and you will reflect on just how much you have both grown. Every night before you go to sleep, tell them you love them and kiss them good night. Every morning wake them with a kiss and tell them you love them, and just enjoy being a mum.
Thank you for listening.
Every time I have to give Mish his dose of antibiotics I call it Fortnite Juice. He just had another dose…
Me: Cmon buddy! Here it is, Fortnite Juice time!
Mish: Mum. Stop. Stop calling it Fortnite Juice. Call it what it really is.
He opens his mouth and I pop the spoon of peach/orange colour medicine into his mouth.
Me: It’s goblin vomit.
Way before I started this blog, I would post my stories on my personal Facebook page via the Notes application. I have decided that I will share these earlier posts here – one a week. I hope you enjoy!
21 June 2010
Hmmm. Parenting is no easy task and you are often faced with situations which require delicate, yet informative explanations – “cause I said so” does not gel with a three year old and her inquisitive little mind. I was faced with one of those moments the other day and I think I was not too clear on things as you will soon find out…
There is a cute little kid’s show called Charlie and Lola. One of Matilda’s favourite shows, not so for Hamish as there is no monster trucks. This particular episode, Lola had a loose tooth and her big brother Charlie set about explaining the Tooth Fairy. Lola was thrilled about the tooth/money exchange that was to take place, and so was Matilda as she turned to me and proceeded to check her own teeth for gum stability. A “Mum Moment” presented itself, and so I sat on the couch next to her to explain the story. As I opened my mouth, a little light bulb went off and I ran to my room and dug about in my little box of knick knacks where I just so happen to keep my first wisdom tooth in a plastic bio-hazard bag – serious! I returned to Tilly to find her now with one hand in her mouth, the other supporting the wrist and both feet up on either side attempting to get her savings account started. I sat down again and casually waved the bag in front of her eyes. She sat up and squinted at it. “It’s a tooth…my tooth” I explained. Fascinated, her eyes never left it, her little lips had curled back in a somewhat grossed out smile.
I started to explain how the Bank of Tooth Fairy works, that for each tooth that falls out – ON IT’S OWN ACCORD, gets placed under the pillow where the TF collects it, leaving you some money. From the tooth, they make great little portable houses, and despite the GFC, business is booming for TF Home Industries. Matilda asked why I still had my wisdom tooth, and I explained that this one was just for me, and I showed her the upper left side of my mouth from where it was yanked out by the dentist. I explained to her the roots, where the blood went in and how much sits inside the gum. Matilda was fascinated, and what I misinterpreted as excitement – but she was just eager to go to the potty. So with my Mum of the Year badge stuck to the back of my head, I sauntered into the kitchen to my eaves dropping husband. I had done well, we can tick the tooth fairy talk off the list of conversations.
Later that day, Matilda approached me, little hands clasped in front of her, her sweet little smile and crazy baby hair sticking out in all directions. She snuggled up to me on the couch. “Hey mum you know your tooth?” “Hmmmm” “Well can I borrow it to put under my pillow?” “Why?” “I want to buy a rainbow ice cream, but I only have ‘Fairy Money’ (lint from Mike’s belly button) and I need real money”. “Nooooooo. No. Nope. Noo-zaaa. That is mum’s tooth, the tooth fairy can only take YOUR teeth, and sweetie you still have quite some time to go till your baby teeth are ready to jump out”. I gave her a quick hug and she wandered off and Hamish resumed smacking my face with his matchbox car.
Since then, Matilda has come to the conclusion that if she can’t sell her teeth just yet, other things would surely be worth something on the Fairy Property Market and as such I have caught my daughter attempting to sway the TF’s interest with other items. Yesterday afternoon she snuck out of the kitchen, I was hot on her heels catching her out as she placed the organic, free-range egg under her pillow. Other items have been a tub of yogurt, shredded paper, lint, a pair of underwear, Mike’s squadron patches, her brother Hamish, a cat, and a pile of cat hair – all to no avail. In desperation she has taken to asking anyone if their teeth are going to fall out because she really, REALLY needs a rainbow ice cream. I think in lieu of a baby tooth, I am going to loan her my wisdom tooth and let her get that much needed ice cream on Thursday…Job Done!
⚠️ Warning: contains gross stuff! ⚠️
I have spent the past week dealing with a sick hubby, and on Wednesday my son joined the Man-Flu club. I am functioning on very little sleep as I am busy measuring out doses of medicine, making sure they are drinking water, encouraging Mish to eat “just one more spoonful of soup”, and soothing post coughing fits.
I have spent the past week camped out on the tiny couch – giving Mike the comfy bed to rest and recover on, and Mish gets the big couch so I can keep watch over him and have the sick bucket at the ready.
Mish has now reached the coughing up gunk stage of this virus and I have got him into the habit of spitting it up in the sick bucket. Last night he was sleeping better and Mike was not coughing and gakking as much so I decided to take my chances and go back to sleeping in our bed. I brought Mish in too so I could still keep an eye on him. I was looking forward to catching a moment of sleep in a natural sleeping position and not the current position of neck bent at 90 degree angle and legs hanging over the arm of the couch.
Sleeeeeeep! Come at meeeeeee!
Mish was tucked in between Mike and I. I settled down, stretched out and began to finally relax. As I started to drift off, Mish sat up straight, his eyes still closed – he turned and slightly leaned in my direction and he…
Spat. On. Me.
He hocked up a great big ball of phlegm right on my torso. As soon as he had cleared it he laid back down as if nothing had happened. Sound asleep. At first I was in disbelief “did he… did he just spit on me? No! Seriously? He did! Oh gross kid, cmon!!!” I jumped up and looked down at my pyjama top that now had a great big spit wad stuck to it. Through some gymnastic moves and twists I was able to remove the top without getting any of the gunk in my hair or on my face. I changed my top and decided to move Mish to the side of the bed with the bucket next to him.
Through all of this Mike just laid there laughing his head off.
Back in bed I was now pinned between Mike and Mish. I didn’t get any sleep. Mish spread himself out, arms and legs akimbo. Mike used me as a wedge – to prop him in a position on his side, so he wouldn’t roll over. My neck now has a crick in it. Mish somehow managed to drool on my face through the night and Mike kept farting on my right thigh.
I am thinking of booking myself a few nights in a hotel to try and catch up on sleep. Feeling and looking like a zombie 🧟♀️
We are coming up to two months in the new place since moving from Sydney to Brisbane over the Christmas period. And as usual, with a military move, nothing runs smoothly. The prepack and uplift in Sydney was pretty good, and we headed out on the drive up without any dramas. Doctor Who, our now senior guinea pig, survived the drive up and seemed to enjoy it. The kids had fun and it was an easy move up.
The down lift into the new house was quick. By mid afternoon we had all our belongings in and ready for us to start unpacking and sorting. This was the easiest, drama free move we have ever experienced. For me, growing up an Army brat, we had many a move with dramas – car breaking down, interesting accommodation stops (un-flushable poos in toilets, mounds of pubic hair in the shower drains, neighbouring guests playing the Lost Boys soundtrack on repeat as they sat outside and downed can after can of beer – just to mention a few), myself or one of my three brothers getting sick, my mum suffered hyperemesis gravidarum on our posting from Darwin to Sydney – she was so sick in the temporary accommodation in Sydney as we waited for our house to be ready for us to move into.
The first afternoon in the new place we went and picked Ripley and Dwight up from the pet resort where they had been enjoying their own little holiday as the rest of us drove up to Brisbane. Dwight was quite confident exploring the new home, for a cat he is very un-catlike. Ripley lost her cool when she saw her new massive back yard (our place in Sydney had a yard the size of a postage stamp – it was really small). So, to watch her take off and do zoomies around the big space was awesome. She trotted to the back door, tongue hanging out, tail wagging – a very happy German Shephard!
We had the house sorted out quick, and Mike and I were stoked at how smoothly this move had gone and how nicely we were settling into our new place. We had gone out and bought the school supplies, high-fiving each other at how great this was all turning out.
Then Ripley started scratching at her ears. She started shaking her head a lot. Her head then remained tilted. We took her to the vet where it was discovered she had a severe ear infection in both ears that would require her ears to be flushed out and treated. Okay, nothing too major. We booked her in for the day procedure and the week leading up to it she was on a course of steroids to help open her ear canals in preparation for the procedure. The morning of, I took her in and filled out the paperwork. The vet explained exactly what they would be doing and what the after care will be. Easy. They then took her into the surgery to get her ready and I went back home to wait out for the call to say she was ready to come back home. I got the call, but it wasn’t to say she was ready to come home. Whilst cleaning her right ear, the vet found a large haematoma that would require draining. Alright, drain away. Later that evening we were finally able to go and bring her back home. She was groggy but her ears were now clean, and her right ear had a collection of stents in them to help with the draining out of the haematoma. On the way out of the clinic, the nurse gave us a cone to use on Ripley if she started scratching at her ears – we didn’t want her to pop the stitches in her ear.
Turns out Ripley was the best patient; not once did she scratch at her ears. Dwight on the other hand was proving to be the difficult one. He was determined to get at Ripley’s stitched up ear, and this is where we put the cone to good use – not on Ripley, but we placed the cone over Dwight to contain him – stop him from trying to help clean out Ripley’s ears. It worked!
So, a minor blip on the road to settling in. No big deal. We moved onwards. The kids started school, and as expected there were tears and frustration at missing their friends and school from Sydney. To help them adjust, Mike took them over to a co-worker’s place for a swim in their pool and a barbecue lunch. The co-worker’s son is in the same class as Mish, and his daughter was attending the same high school as Tilly. I stayed at home in order to get the school lunch baking done and to catch up on an assignment. I was going to go out later that night to meet some other military wives, hoping to make some new friends.
I missed the dinner.
Instead I was sitting with Tilly and Mish at the ER waiting for Tilly to be seen.
Whilst at the barbecue lunch, Tilly had managed to face plant the pool wall when she swam right into it. When they walked through the door, I was greeted with my daughter sporting a massive purple honker on the middle of her face, followed close behind by Mishy, whose face had been char grilled as a result of not applying sunscreen. As I was grabbing ice packs, slathering aloe gel onto my son’s face, arguing with my daughter that she will be going to the hospital to have her nose checked out, I was gathering my handbag and googling the address of the local hospital. Less than a month in the new place and we were checking out the emergency department.
Diagnosis: Soft tissue damage, and a slightly crooked nose that will need to be checked out by an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist; we were cleared to head back home to rest. She had a night ahead of her of ice packs and Panadol. When we got home, I remembered that she had her school photos coming up that week too. I looked over at her, her mashed up nose, panda eyes, relaxing on the couch watching You Tube. Next to her was Mishy with a painful looking face – shiny from the layers of aloe gel I kept applying to stop his face from cooking.
Two days later, following our trip to the ER for Marcia Brady and El Scorcho, I sat with what was going to be my first of many coffees for the next few weeks, and watched my husband pack his gear into his car and head off on tasking. No sooner had he driven off, Ripley got up and walked over to the dining room and vomited.
Oh boy. Here we go…
I cleaned up the vomit and put Ripley outside where I then watched her. She wandered around the yard and then went and laid down on her bed. Maybe she overindulged in the kitty litter? Whilst she relaxed outside, I got the kids up ready for school. When I returned from school drop-off, I brought Ripley back inside. She seemed flat. Missing hubby? I offered her one of her favourite treats, she turned her head away and rested her chin on her paws. I called her over to the other side of the room and I noticed she seemed really slow to stand. This wasn’t right. I called the vet (who had only a week earlier taken the final stent and stitches from out of Ripley’s inner ear) and I explained what was happening. They booked her in for that afternoon. In the meantime, I washed her mouth out and thinking to myself could it be she has licked a cane toad? She was drinking water, but not enough.
By the time I got her to her appointment, she was flat. The vet was going to take her in for the afternoon and run bloods and to get her on a drip for hydration. Half an hour after admitting her, I got the call to say Ripley had pancreatitis. This is the first (and hopefully now the last) time this has happened, and my head was spinning. Of course, something like this would happen when my husband is interstate and I am in an area I am not familiar with. Ripley ended up spending two days in hospital undergoing treatment. By the Friday evening, despite her latest test showing her pancreas was still giving her grief, she was stable enough to come home for the weekend. She had a pain med patch on her back leg, and she was much brighter and excited to see us and be back at home than she was when we brought her into the clinic on the Wednesday.
My job over the weekend was to keep her fluids up and serve up several small portions of either boiled chicken breast or specialised dry dog food throughout the day and on Monday morning we would be back for another test, and if still positive, we would have to discuss further testing and examination by a specialist. My mind was trying to work out how I would juggle things if I had to drive across through Brisbane to the specialist with the kids in school – would I have to take them out of school for the day because of appointment/driving times being outside of school hours? I played nurse over that weekend, determined to get my best friend better. The thought of not having her kills me, and when she was in hospital, I felt lost without my side pup.
Come the Monday morning, after I got the kids to school, Ripley and I were back at the vet for the next blood test. As I sat and waited for the vet and Ripley to return, my stomach was in knots. She had been doing so well over the weekend, I would be gutted if I couldn’t turn it around for her. Eventually Ripley and her vet returned, and the news was the best – NEGATIVE! We did it! We got her pancreas back down to normal levels. We could go home and get on with things – and with a specially modified diet. That afternoon she came with me to pick the kids up from school so she could give them the good news.
They say things happen in threes. Since moving in we have had ear surgery, busted nose and sunburn (which cleared up without blisters or peeling) and then pancreatitis. The kids and I have been housebound as Ripley recovered from her ear op and then pancreatitis, and the kids from their own injuries. We have not had a chance to get out and explore the area. This last weekend was the first weekend we were able to go out because Ripley was okay. Saturday, we checked out Springfield and enjoyed a nice long lunch, making the most of the slightly cooler weather that has come over. Yesterday (Sunday), we got up early to check out the local show ground market for breakfast and a scout about. The kids were happy to score a collection of 90’s era Yowie figurines. I enjoyed a fantastic coffee and stocked up on some soy melts from Violets Gifts and Treasures – as I type this I have Lolly Shoppe in the burner and the house smells like a candy store.