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
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Screw you David Koch and your silly outdated ideals.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
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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.
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?
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.

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.
Sunday, 13 March 2011
Sew Hot Right Now

Friday, 21 January 2011
MirKerr Makes Me Purr

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

Friday, 10 December 2010
Christmas Babies

Wednesday, 15 September 2010
New Teeth!


Monday, 22 March 2010
The Village People

Wednesday, 26 August 2009
Grubby Bubby:: Momspit Giveaway

The Smallest Stitches

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!
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, 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





