Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts

Tuesday, 19 May 2015

10 Tomorrow



This time ten years ago I had eaten spaghetti bolognaise after having walked to our local supermarket (over 2kms away) having to stop every few metres due to contractions. 

I had bought the ingredients to make my antenatal teacher's special Labour Aid recipe, hired Sex and the City, snickered when the video shop guy said, see you in two days (thinking - no dude, you won't, I am in labour), and walked home. Gently. Ever so gently. Resting as I went on low fences, breathing. 

I remember Matt returning from work and me wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling comforted he was home, and I was not alone to ride the waves of contractions. 

That day I'd been shopping with my sister, Sarah. I'd bought new bed sheets. 

We were on a crazy tight budget, Matt and I, and buying one new fitted sheet that was on sale had felt like the biggest extravagance. But it did take my mind from those lower back twinges. 

Ten years ago today I went to bed, and in the early hours of the morning - I went in to labour. 

I could barely wait to greet my beloved firstborn.


Friday, 18 January 2013

Koch Needs To Be Quashed

So David Koch doesn't want women to breastfeed in public?

Well you know where I stand when it comes to breastfeeding, if you can - awesome sauce. 


Screw you David Koch and your silly outdated ideals. I'd like to see you sit happily in a toilet cubicle and eat your lunch. And a glass of wine from the urinal?

Oh you want to do share some fiscal forecasts from the comfort of the latrine. Perfect. We can't hear you from the bog. 

If you feel passionate about being able to breastfeed in public, and you're in Sydney - join the revolution. Here's the deets. 

Thursday, 5 April 2012

Guest Post: With Nat Kringoudis


Today on PottyMouthMama I have a guest post - which is not something I ordinarily do. But during the four years I have been blogging, I have had the great fortune of meeting some truly inspiring women. Women that I wanted to share with the rest of the world. To shout about from the rooftops. 
Well this is my rooftop, and today Nat Kringoudis is guest posting. Nat is the brains and the beauty behind The Pagoda Tree and Fertile Body, Heart & Soul. 
I've known Nat for over two years. She's the type of woman who very politely takes life by the scruff of its neck - and makes it better. That means it's positive and bright. I can't say enough good things about Nat - she's like a bright nurturing beacon of light.  
Nat juggles her incredibly busy work life with life as the mum of two gloriously beautiful babes. The below post has been written by Nat. 
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This time last year, I fell pregnant. Something many women find themselves doing at some point in their life, but equally it's no mean feat.   As a natural fertility specialist, I know that some women’s journeys to pregnancy can be more difficult than other women's. Another thing I know is babies.  I know how to make them, I know how to keep them in until they are well baked and then I know how to get them out when my patients are ready to have their babies. I practice this everyday in my clinic.
However nine months later, I was in for a shock when I experienced nothing short of a horrendous 18 hour labour, drug free (just saying), which ended in an emergency c-section.  Again, something I know many women have been through, but certainly not something I would have chosen if I had been given an option.  This birth didn't go to my plan. I couldn't control it. This took some coming to terms with. It was a good lesson for me as a health professional, not one I wanted to have to learn but I took it on board. 
Just as the dust was settling and I was finally getting my life back into gear post cesarean and I was coming out of the haze of new mum-hood, I got a phone call that would change our family's life. My son was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis (CF).  I can’t remember much from that day. This was not how I'd envisaged this working out for us.
As a health educator and blogger, I’m yet to share my story on the world wide web.  Now a few months have passed, I've got more of our story to tell. Initially I was wary to share.  I wanted others to see my son Geordie for who he is rather than 'Geordie with CF'. You see, we very quickly learnt that people don’t know anything good in regards to CF. They know that people with CF suffer, they are sick and in the past they very often died at a young age. I also wanted the chance to prove to people (and perhaps even to myself) that that would not be my son's experience.  I needed time to show others (and again, prove to myself) that I could hopefully keep him well.  Not to be delusional about the reality of CF, I realised the challenges that the future would hold for us, but I would use all my might to scurry through every crevice of my brain and use all the tools I had.  The 11 years I devoted to studying health care was for a cause.  It seems, this is what I had studied for.
I’m no stranger to CF. My best friend of 20 years has a son with CF. Two best friends, two boys with CF – what are the chances?  This question I have asked myself a thousand times.  What are the chances?  With 3000 people living in Australia with CF, how is it that my high school bestie and I could both find ourselves here?  Most people's reaction is – ‘you’re so lucky you have each other.’  I agree, whilst I am so lucky to have her - this reality has been the hardest thing to come to terms with because the biggest risk to a child with CF, is actually being around another child with CF.   It means that our two sons shouldn’t really play together.   How do we do play dates?  How do I cope with limited time together?  I’m still learning to come to terms with it and it’s hard.  Really hard.  What about our dreams of taking them on a flight together to Disney land?   
 The first few weeks left my heart dark and heavy, like somebody had dropped a blanket over it.  Every time I felt like I had my head around it, I’d be punched in the face again as if somebody was saying “oh no you don’t – get back to feeling sorry for yourself.”  Thing is – that ain’t me.  Soon after, I couldn’t face it any longer.  I took charge and I took it real good.  We had to move on and get going with the job of making sure Geordie is a healthy boy.  
See, Geordie picked the right family or should I say, he was given to us as a gift.  Whatever way you look at it, I had lessons to learn and still do.  I learnt I’m a control freak – yup!  Who knew, right?  Granted, he has a bloody determined mother with a head harder than rodeo bull and a really level headed easy-going daddy.  He’s way lucky.  He also has a sister with a love for him that is larger than life itself.
Prior to having children, I would wonder what they were going to look and be like.  Every parent dreams of their ‘perfect’ child, or rather, they want their child to be perfect.  When I received the CF news there was a moment where all of this ‘what about...’ flashed in front of me like a broken neon sign that is shorting out.  I thought to myself  ‘this isn’t what I imagined, somebody let me out of this silly dream.’   When Geordie was diagnosed, so many messages streamed through saying “I’m so sorry to hear about Geordie” like he was gone and we were in mourning – and this broke my heart to say the least.  Reality was, there was nothing to be ‘sorry’ about (and I know these messages were sent with the best intentions), he was still Geordie and frankly nothing about him had changed.  I took it upon myself to make sure people understood the positives, that there was hope and that my Geordie had a big, bright future.  I understood that people didn’t quite know what to say to us, and that sometimes, silence is ok.  That’s a big deal coming from this chatterbox.  We didn’t need words, we just needed to know that we had support – thankfully, we had plenty of that. 
We’ve been lucky.  Geordie is going great guns.  He’s gaining weight at a rapid rate, and he is well, and this alone lifts the weight off my shoulders (not literally!).   Research in CF has come along in leaps and bounds and the future looks so bright for kids with CF. The big thing with CF is that you don’t know what you’ve been dealt.  Nobody can tell you how ‘well’ or ‘sick’ your child will be, and there are so many factors that go in the mix – genetics, environment, lifestyle and luck I’m sure.  The things I can’t control – I’m letting go of, but those that I can I’m going all the way.  I’m blessed with knowledge and I’m blessed with my perfect son.  I truly feel lucky.
Someday we will all go to Disney land – it might be on separate flights, but we will get there and we will have the time of our lives, together.  Geordie has already taught me that life is for the living – we will be making every day count for the rest of our long, long lives.
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Nat is currently finishing work on her upcoming e-book on priming your body for fertility, with tips and tricks for a wellness overhaul, including over 25 recipes for building a fertile body. I'll keep you posted when it comes out.

image: the beautiful image of Nat with baby Geordie is courtesy of Nat

Thursday, 22 March 2012

The Face of Birth





I am really excited to see this documentary ASAP. If you're a long time reader of PMM, you'll know I am very passionate about birth. If you're new to PMM, FYI - I am very passionate about birth.


It features one of my all-time favourites, Sheila Kitzinger. During my pregnancies I read a lot of her books. I love her, she's pragmatic and passionate and just down-to-earth and smart. 


And Michael Odent - the man gives me goosebumps. 


You can read Jodi's post on The Face of Birth here.

Thursday, 26 January 2012

Squishy. Soft. Supple. Boobies



I posted this video a few years ago, but I'm bringing it back. It's one of my favourites to watch over and over.  

Friday, 24 June 2011

Where's Tiny?



Can you spot Tiny amidst the jumble of soft toys, sunglasses and crowns that litter her bed?


Every night, as did the Doctor, she takes a whole bunch of her favourite things. No matter how big or small.


When I went to kiss her good night, at first I struggled to locate her. Ahh, sweet little cuddly Tiny. How I love thee!

Thursday, 19 May 2011

Now We Are Six

This time six years ago I was in pre labour. I walked over a kilometre to the supermarket to buy lemons to make Labouraid. I dropped into the DVD store to hire Sex and the City. I stood next to the rows of DVDs in a contraction and rode out that wave. I walked over a kilometre home, stopping intermittently as the intensity increased. I imagined that small babies head knock-knock-knocking on my cervix. I am the Queen of visualisation, thank you Marie Burrows.

I got home. I squeezed those lemons. I made the Labouraid. I spilt it all over the kitchen floor. Later it would explode over the floor of my sister's car on the ride to the birthing centre. Sorry about that, Choc.

I ate spaghetti bolognaise. I went to bed. I vomited up spaghetti bolognaise. I woke up later. I went into a darkened room. Matt turned the light on. I turned the light off. Matt turned the light on. I turned the light off. I laboured at home. The intensity turned up a notch or two. Matt turned on the light. I turned off the light and screeched "YOU BETTER START ANTICIPATING MY NEEDS!"

Matt called the midwife. The midwife told us to wait. I knew I couldn't wait any longer. Mother's instincts. My sister arrived. We three drove like the clappers at 5am down the highway, to the birthing centre, behind a garbage truck, in half light, into the tunnel, we drove. Every bump I felt as I continued riding those contractions.

We arrived and I tore off my clothes. It was all I could do. I got into that delicious bath. I laboured. We waited. Matt went to sleep. Matt woke up. I got too relaxed and my contractions stopped. I had to get out of the bath. I pushed. Two hours of pushing. I got tired. I screamed "COME ON!" like Lleyton Hewitt. And then I held that wee baby, I held that warm, beautiful, loved baby against my chest. That warmth.

I'd do it all again in a heartbeat for my beautiful soon-to-be six year old. My delightful, talkative, bright six year old.

Tuesday, 19 April 2011

Babies. Babies. Babies.




Well the big news in our house is...

Drum roll please.

Are you excited?

Yes. Yes you are.




Well the big news in our house is... I'm not pregnant.


BUT - I do have four family passes to a preview of BABIES thanks to Madman Entertainment, to give away to four rad people. (Event Cinema Macquarie, Sunday 1st May, 1pm).

A huge success in the US and Europe last year, it's now making its way to our own sunny shores. Directed by award-winning filmmaker Thomas Balmes, and dubbed the cutest film of the year, BABIES follows four babies around the world (Namibia, Mongolia, San Francisco and Tokyo) - from birth to first steps.



If you'd like to win a family pass to sneak all you have to do is comment on this post (25 words or under) and give me a tip on getting Matt to add another baby to our family. Easy az bro! And hey presto.


I'll draw the winner on Thursday at 8pm. Open to Australian readers only (sorry party peeps!).


PS - what the heck is blogger messing with my formatting for? I'm going insane. Slowly, but surely.

Sunday, 13 March 2011

Sew Hot Right Now


Remember when my good friend had her baby months ago? Yes. Well me too. And I am still on the go slow to make her a quilt. Not intentionally slowly, it's just the way I craft. Slow x slow. Slow cubed. Slow to the power of infinity. SLOoOOoooW!

It's pink. And why the heck not? I love pink!
I'm using one of Lisa Tilse's lovely panels in the middle, which I am still working on - it's such a pretty design, Lisa is all sorts of awesome.
Sorry about the crummy quality of the image. It's the best I could do in the time that I had. FORGIVE ME!

Friday, 21 January 2011

MirKerr Makes Me Purr


First of all, forgive me for the ridiculous title of this post. But peeps, it's true. I love this girl. She's a natural beauty. She grew up in a town not far from mine own town. She's a country girl. Us country girls have got to thigh slap together.

She marries Orlando Bloom. Hot. Hot squared when they make a baby. When baby is born = hot cubed.


And then she releases this image as the first of her wee bebe on her blog.

Helloooo Miranda Kerr. Mother and child.


I had a mini-argument with the gals at work about this image. I loved it. They didn't. I think it's delightfully natural. MirKerr looks so at ease. So blissful. And I think it removes some stigma about breastfeeding publically. The gals at work didn't dig on seeing her boobie. I don't find boobies offensive. I love this image. So natural.

Happy Babymoon Miranda and Orlando - and welcome beautiful Flynn.

Tuesday, 28 December 2010

Making Beautiful Babies


I love breaking news ten hours after the news has been broken. It's my thing.

Natalie Portman and Benjamin Millepied. Pregnant and engaged. Holy smokes, SMOKING HOT! That baby is going to be one heck of a looker. Aye aye aye.

Friday, 10 December 2010

Christmas Babies


I have a pre-Christmas baby in the form of Tiny. She was due to arrive on the 28th December, but the sneaky little thing arrived on the 16th instead! Two Tuesdays has a pre-Christmas baby in the form of Little Tuesday.
These Sagittarius girls are spirited and passionate!

Jackie O just gave birth to a wee baby girl.

I wonder what she'll call her. Probably not Kylie.
image via SMH

Wednesday, 15 September 2010

New Teeth!



A few weeks ago I was talking about my wonky, crooked teeth.

The good news is, that this weekend I embarked on a quick fix. I realised my perfect teeth dream.

I can hear you groaning. Worrying - oh no, PMM is a goner.

But fear not friends! I am so pleased with my new fangs, I'll share a new pic of my beautiful new pearly whites.
Not only was this treatment ridiculously swift, it was really cheap - and painless! Howzat!? And as a bonus, Dr. Allen threw in some teeth whitening while we were at it.

Just as an aside, Bonjela have just released a study which puts to bed Robin Barker's (who by the way is ordinarily my sometime homegirl) idea that teething does not cause pain. Robin dear, it does. When my teeth move, they hurt, baby getting new teeth = hurt. My babies had huge sad-ons when they were teething. I don't blame them.
Back to my teeth - if you want pearly whites like mine - and let's face it - who wouldn't head to your local supermarche and buy this. Seriously. Edible dental work? What's not to like?!

Monday, 22 March 2010

The Village People


There's an old African proverb that says 'it takes a village to raise a child'. Hillary Clinton might on occasion get the credit for it, but it's older than that bird.

I've been thinking hard about this saying. But in a general sense - not just for myself, but in this day and age where it's more like com-mutiny than community. I'm not feeling particularly morose, I just wondered, what DOES ONE do when you have no one?

What happens if you don't have actually have a 'village' to help you raise your child?

Or, what if your village doesn't want to help you raise your child? What if your village is too busy with their own life to help? What if helping you raise your children is just not your village people's thing?

Then what?

I remember in the early days, after the birth of the Doctor, the nurses, midwives, Early Childhood nurses all implored how important it is to let people help. But what happens when no one offers to help? Or there's no one to ask/beg for help?

We struggled in the early days, particularly after the birth of the Doctor. I had mastitis just 10 days after giving birth. I wasn't sleeping well. It was a steep learning curve. Whenever I'd hear a peep from my wee babe I would scuttle over. I was a wreck. Couple that with not feeling confident (I remember my first thoughts when carrying the Doctor through the front door for the first time were 'Oh my goodness, we are responsible for this wee darling baby's survival'.)

I didn't have a Mother's Group because I dropped out after just a couple of weeks. Attending was angsty and tedious (not to say I felt confident by myself, but it was all about competing, who knew the most, and the fact that I never really clicked with anyone. I just dreaded it).

To be completely honest, I didn't want to leave the Doctor when I first had him. I hated leaving him. I wanted to be with him. But if I had a village to help me raise my children - then life would have been a whole lot peachier. But I didn't even know my neighbours. And society has evolved in that way so I can pass through weeks, months, years without even saying as much as 'hello' to them.

I often think about my friends who are single parents. I wonder how do they cope when they are exhausted. When they are so fatigued they're snappy and can't swap with someone for a quick cat nap? Parenting is a big enough gig that is sometimes difficult even for two people, let alone winging it solo. This weekend has certainly confirmed that for me. I'm still bone achingly tired and so darn cross. I can't shake it.


So tell me - how do you gather 'round ye olde village people when you need to raise some helpers?

Wednesday, 26 August 2009

Grubby Bubby:: Momspit Giveaway


Do you remember when you were small and your Mum would unwittingly whip out a hankie and daub a little of her saliva onto it and wipe your face? Mums of the world, what the heck were you thinking?! Spit on my face - mmm delicious. And only half the calories.
Mummies, you no longer have to deprive your mouth of your own spit with the invention of Momspit. It's not a sanitiser, it's a no-rinse cleanser to spruce up your smalls when you're out and about. You can use it to clean grubby bubbies while Momspit leaves the skin feeling clean, fresh and smelling divine (check out the scents: Fig & Green Tea, Lemon & White Tea and Unscented). It's the perfect size for nappy bags or the glove box, for mummies on the go.
Good things about Momspit:
- Moisturises like a lotion and absorbs quickly - can make even the toughest milk moustache vamoose
- Alcohol free and biodegradable
- Gentle enough to be used on the face
- Cleans just like soap and water - minus the tap!
- Recyclable and refillable packaging
- No child labour, not tested on animals
- Does not include human saliva (because that is just gross, innit?)
If you'd like to win one of three bottles of Momspit all you have to do is send me a picture of your bubby all grubby (please only one photo and low-res or my computer might have a cardiac). You can include a few words too about how grubby your wee one gets, or maybe you can reminisce about your own mum and her use of spit on your face. Or not.

The Smallest Stitches


Following on from the Stitches & Craft show, I've been busting myself to get cracking on the printed fabric I bought from Lisa Tilse. It's going to be part of a quilt for one of my friend's new babes.

My curse per stitch ratio is particularly high at the moment, quite impressive really. I am quite talented when it comes to getting my floss in a tangle. I would even say I am excelling at tangling it. Maybe I should try embroidering cursive fonts. Get it? Get it?!

Underneath is a vintage tablecloth I found once at a sale. It had already been printed up with the embroidery pattern, but it had never realised it's potential (ie it's never been embroidered), so I've been working on that too.

Friday, 12 June 2009

Small Babes & Runny Noses:: Giveaway

Recently I purged a whole heap of my beauty products. I know what's in some of these products is bad, bad bad, and then some. So I tossed them. The petro-chemicals, parabens, they put in them - wowsers, I don't understand how they manage to get away with it.

Breathe!

I know you probably already know that there are loads of products out there containing petro-chemicals and parabens. Nasty things they are, so it's nice to come across products that steer clear of such things. Particularly when it comes to the smalls.

Since Winter is promptly upon us, here comes cold and flu season. The only thing worse than having a blocked, snuffly nose, is a wee one suffering the same, with very little relief.

Little Innoscents has an easily absorbed vapour balm that brings warmth to the body and helps with breathing and the alleviation of nasal congestion (no more snuffles for your snuggly). It's safe for babies and is fresh and natural - got to be a winner!

Made by a Melbourne mama it's been made with beautiful natural essential oils such as lemon, spearmint, eucalyptus, lavender, peppermint and rosemary, combined with caressing and natural beeswax and shea butter. Mmm, we likey!
There should be a tub in every family medicine cabinet.. A natural organic alternative to Vicks. It contains no turpentine.
I am lucky to be able to give away to five lucky readers a tub of Little Innoscents Vapour Rub Balm (RRP $10.99) and to ONE lucky winner a complete set of the Little Innoscents range (RRP $69).
To enter, visit the Little Innoscents website, then come back and tell me ONE THING that Little Innoscents does not contain... It's very simple my friends. Go forth and conquer!
You have 'til next Friday to enter. Australians only - sorry dudes.

Friday, 5 June 2009

I'm In A Competition: A Relay. By. My. Self.


This thing is tough. I'm throwing water on myself. Puffing. Panting. I'm wearing my tracky daks and feeling like I need to tear them off. I am getting that sweaty (and now you know why there's a sweaty man above - that's what I searched for - but I'm not a man - you know?). I can't even talk. I can't even type. I'm bent over, half breathing, half dying.

Here's the question ladies (and any gents that happen to be innocent bystanders): Is blogging a competitive sport?

I feel like I am back at high school and I am trailing way behind. Let it be known, I never excelled at school sport. In fact, during one PE lesson, we were playing la crosse, I cricked my neck and couldn't continue to play. I told my English teacher that my neck hurt and I felt sick. She thought (well she knew I was such a scammer) that I was just trying to get out of the debate I was involved in. Truth be, as soon as that debate was over, I went home, was promptly booked in to the GP who referred me to the physio, who promptly prescribed me bed rest and Valium. Valium does not equal me faking it methinks. It hurt like heck and my muscles were spasming. The moral here is folks, don't punish the PottyMouth.

Anyway, blogging. Competitive sports. Playing games. Sometimes I feel like, you know, are you guys for real? I mean, anonymous nasty commenters - they're just trying to make themselves feel better by taking an OD of nasssty.

I need to tell you now, I am no good at competitive sports. I played netball when I was younger. I was always muchos taller than the other gals, and always got pulled up because of my height. It caused great frustration. And then I just quit.

So some days are diamonds, some days I think.. Why am I doing this? What is this for? It's like the meaning of life. WHY?

One of my bloggy mates questioned this the other day, and I summed it up for myself. I've got nothing to sell. I blog because I like writing. I love writing in fact. I need my blog as a discipline, otherwise I don't write. That makes for very sad, very savage PMM.

Even if you do have something to sell, doesn't mean it takes anything away from your blog. It's about you writing for you. For the record I was wearing short shorts and my favourite pair of spikes, plus a fluoro pink sweatband.

No matter what, you can't deny, there is competition in the blogging world. I for one have to tell you, I find it a little strange. Everyone has an opinion, it's not a popularity competition peeps. There's room for everyone. Write what you want. Write when you want. Don't worry about whether you have a cheer squad. Don't worry if you don't have the right gear. Just write. Post photos. Talk about your favourite music. If you have an opinion, no matter what it is, someone will dig it, somewhere in the world, someone else feels the same way.

Another reason I blog is because when I had my first child I never joined a Mother's Group. My Mother's Group was hideous. And then some. That too was competitive. I didn't dig on it. I stepped back and stayed at home. I was already insecure. I'd just had a baby at 25. My body had completely changed. My boyfriend (now husband) - what was he thinking of me? I was sleep deprived, cranky, my body had changed, I had changed, we had a baby. There is enough insecurity from the every day without having to survive the petri dish that was the Mother's Group. I am still Mother's Group-less 'til this day. So blogging for me, was kind of like being part of a community, but more so like my own little journal. Something. Just. For. Me.

So sweaty girls. And guys. No need to sweat the small stuff. Blog or no blog. You are loved. By someone somewhere. You are great. You do ace things. Believe it. It's not a race to the finish line.

It's not a competition. It's my blog.

Monday, 13 April 2009

I'm Back. And 20 Kilos Heavier.

Ahhh Easter, how we love you so. If only I wasn't prone to eating so much chocolate. I've finally overdosed and am on the search for anything salty to tame my taste buds. I'm sure though, I'll be ready for more doses of chocolate later in the week (like I need it).

Ahhh Easter, if only you could have given me some self control, rather than chocolate. I'd quite like that. The ability to say, no I couldn't possibly eat my 50th Easter egg. Or no, no, thanks that first piece of Easter cake was delicious, I couldn't possibly go another. Or even, no one glass of wine is plenty for me. If only.

So now our little family is coming down off the chocolate-y high that is Easter. After a wonderful weekend away visiting my family, driving home in the rain, bumper to bumper in traffic, curling towards the city, thoughts turn to normal life, and oh how I pine to escape again, once more out of the city.

Hello egg lovers, how was your Easter?


PS - I do believe I only have 9 (!) entries to the GEORGIE LOVE SUPERSONIC BIRTHDAY GIVEAWAY. Yowsers. Where is everyone? Want to enter? It's super dooper easy. And chances of winning at this stage are ridiculoulsy good. 1 in 3 punters are going to win at this rate. If you know what's good for you, enter now (pictured above is one of the three gorgeous prizes - this one is a ridiculously cute wooden bead bracelet from Dick & Dora)!

Saturday, 24 January 2009

Bathing Al Fresco For Babies Al Dente


My sister gave me this great idea to give the smalls their evening bath outside. This is day two and it's wonderful. Fantastic. Fun. Super cool. Great great great.

We went to Bunnings to make a grand purchase. 'The biggest bucket in the world' for the Doctor to relax in. Well we got a tub - kind of like a kiddie jacuzzi and he digs it. He carried it around the entire time we were there.

Tiny gets the baby bath which she sits in and then sneakily tries to stand in until Matt firmly tells her to sit down. We don't be needing grass stains on her small face now do we?
It's still stinking hot here. 41 stinking degrees today to be precise. I had a great idea to build a snowdome over the top of Sydney. Well I think it's great anyway. I can't stand this darn heat. It stinks.
I can't even bear to cook at the moment, so I'm skiving off with anything I can think of. Tonight BBQ chicken and a salad I whipped up (now that takes talent folks). I am running out of cold meals that the smalls can eat as well. I may have to *gasp* actually cook something this weekend.
And on another front, and purely for posterity I must record here one of my very favourite quotes from the Doctor from this week when I reached over the car seat to get him something:
"You're a good reacher Mum! You have very bendy arms."
Ah yes. I am Gumby hear me roar. Yeah you heard me right, I roar baby. But only on the hottest of days.