Uh Huh

Yesterday I left it late to go and grab some fruit and vegetables. I've not discovered anyone really close to our new abode to buy really good produce, so I venture back to my old stomping ground - where everyone knows my name, but Ted Danson isn't around.

We quickly did the rounds of the butcher, the fruit and veg, and then drove to the supermarket. We were doing really well, whizzing around the aisles, Tiny clutching her 'things to pay for' tightly, Matt met us and the four of us traversed the supermarket together. How's that for solidarity?

We got to the check out and Tiny - out of the blue - starts saying top-of-lungs "You're 'gina. You're 'gina." Not just a couple of times. Not even quietly. But chanting it. TOP OF LUNGS. I don't know who was more embarrassed. Matt tried to change the subject and try to refocus Tiny on her new hair bands - NEW HAIR BANDS! The teenage checkout dude didn't make eye contact and scanned us through super fast. I took Tiny out of the trolley and sent her off to look at some 'flowlas' that were conveniently at her height. I was waiting for the reprise of "You're 'gina, you're 'gina," but it passed. Thank goodness. I need one of those trumpet mutes for Tiny to shove in her mouth whenever she feels the need to become a tiny chorister.

Despite how publically humiliating it is, it's a small (tiny) improvement on her standard: "I love you Mum" she tilts her head - then - "Mum... You're poo!"

Ah sweet toddlers.

Making Music. But at 10:14pm.

Tiny (aka The Boss) is up to her old tricks again and is enjoying late nights. I've pretty well given up on her day sleeps because at least if she skips a day sleep, she goes to sleep sort of early. Sort of.

She was so insanely tired today (and to be frank, so am I, no stamina post-wedding) I coaxed her into sleepytime.

And now we're paying for it because she's banging on drums, playing the xylophone and won't stay in her bed.

On the upside, when she WAS sleeping today, I managed to tick off lots of things on my to-do list.

When Tiny stays up late and drives me a little bit bananas she acts as the ultimate contraception.

Bowerbirds

I have a bowerbird in my midst.

Tiny, while not prone to blue objects, seems to gather any random things that take her fancy - and particularly pink things, and totes them around in any old bag she can find (Kinokuniya, brown paper bags - whatever, she's not racist when it comes to bags).

While riding her 'motorbike' around at the park, she insisted on taking the bag, which was laden with booty, around. Despite the fact it set her back enormously, she still soldiered on, dragging that darn bag around the track - and no matter what would not hand it over to her Mama.

If I ever need to find something that's gone missing, I know where to go. To date this has included:

- iPhone

- iPod

- mobile

- pink pen

- small tissue packets (she REALLY loves these)

- pink lip gloss

(Please no one ever tell Tiny about my bin, because I fear she'll follow in my footsteps and there'll be even less room in our house).

image via

Tiny World Of Pain

Tiny just poured a whole glass of water on our bed.

Tiny just used my special face cream (that was almost brand new) on her feet.

Tiny just let the rabbit out and then sprinkled hay everywhere including all over her freshly moisturised hands.

As her piece de resistance, she poured popcorn all over the Doctor's bed.

All I can say is, thank goodness I don't use La Prairie.

The Littlest Reader

My littlest reader is big into doggie books. Anything with a puppy gets her seal of approval. It is for this reason that Lynley Dodd is an author/illustrator who is well-stocked in our home. Who can go past the sublime images coupled with the fast paced rythmic verse? I love reading these books out loud, they're fun for the reader and the read-ee.

The Doctor is increasingly into longer books, which is fun, each night we curl up in bed together and read for as long as he can keep his eyes open.

I read this awesome article (via the super fantastic Roxy Marj) in the NY Times about a single father reading with his daughter. It's heart-warming. It's beautiful. Read it. Read it now. Drop everything (well not the baby if you're holding one), but DO bookmark it and read it.

Life Buoys? SOS!

Seriously kids, Tiny is completing doing my head in, flipping flap jacks with my brain, making risotto with my mind, turning my intelligence to squid soup.

First we started off with another 12:30am call out. This time Matt had fallen fast asleep so it was me to fend for myself. Darn it. That Tiny sure knows how to screech.

And this morning she rose at the very novel time of 8:30am. Novel for her. Nightmare for the Doctor and I who were attempting to leave the house at 9am sharp.

Thankfully I had to be elsewhere but a babysitter was coming to look after Tiny.

30 minutes after I had left Tiny with the babysitter I receive a text message saying: She's having a massive tantrum. She won't stop crying.

Hey lady - I'm paying YOU to deal with the tantrums. YOU deal with it. Ok not really, but I what am I going to do when I am on the opposite side of the city?

And so it is, tonight, after two million tantrums and the subsequent realisation that the terrible twos really do exist, and they are alive, and very, very well, I find myself perusing photos of Tiny when she was really tiny and only had eyes for her mama. And wasn't scaling the side of her cot. And head butting the floor. And scratching my face. And screeching 'not yours' at me.

Tired? You bet your bottom bippy.

PS - that photo down there is NOT me with a goat. We don't have a goat (and I don't own any scrunchies - PHEW!), but we do have a psycho rabbit.

In The Know:: Nappy Goo

Tiny gets the worst nappy rash I have ever seen. No matter the frequency of the nappy changes, if she's not well, then she'll get nappy rash. And it's so bad she arcs her back, clamps her legs together and cries 'no, no stop it' when you're trying to wipe her little bot bot, even if it's just water and cotton pads.

Luckily my sister's friend, Lindy, is in the know. She's come to the rescue with Nappy-Goo. Developed and formulated by the Pharmacy Department at the Royal Children's Hospital Melbourne, it's a thick, soothing cream to help prevent, manage and treat nappy rash.

Nappy-Goo contains Zinc oxide, Hamamelis water (witch hazel water), and Melaleuca oil (tea tree oil) to provide a soothing cream with mildly astringent and antiseptic properties that can help to prevent, manage and treat nappy rash. It smells pretty damn good too.

Here's a list of Nappy-Goo stockists around Australia.

I think it would make a swell inclusion in a new baby gift too. Well.. Not just the cream, but as part of a wee hamper.

Poo-casso

Chris Olifi's elephant poo paintings via

We are going through a transition here at PMM HQ. Tiny is letting us know she's around. With. A. Vengeance.

She's been throwing huge tantrums on a daily, let's say hourly basis, and really putting us through our paces.

Is there any downtime?

Currently no. She's been night waking as well which is driving us bonkers. I'm thinking of enlisting her early. Is that wrong?

Additionally to all the tantie-pantsing she's been banging on with, she refuses to wear clothes. As soon as we dress her (if we can dress her), she freaks out and takes everything off. Including her nappy.

This weekend this has resulted in:

- poo on the couch cushion

- me picking her up and smelling the distinct whiff of an incontinent old vagrant, only to realise that she's wee-d all over her bed

- a distinct wee puddle on the carpet

- a very distinct stain on the carpet on Matt's side of the bedroom where he's tried to scrub out her poo-tacular adventures

- the piece de resistance? Matt letting me know that while I was out galavanting with girlfriends, she'd very kindly done some poo paintings in her bed and really worked that pooint into the blanket and actually all the bedding. Phew. Must book in more outings with the gal pals. Narrowly avoided cleaning that up.

Mean Mama has now started rekindling the love of onesies. They are few and far between in size 2. Any other options friends?

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.

Danger Mouse

Remember that show from when you were small? Amazing! Astounding! Danger Mouse! What kind of mouse couldn't be cool wearing an eye patch?

Well today my cheeky little mouse decided to be Danger Mouse. Tiny has taken to, with great aplomb, going into rooms and closing doors. She thinks it's a super great joke. This morning she was in the bathroom, and was calling out, 'til her Mama dutifully rescued her.

Shortly after she went into her room. Disappeared for a while, didn't she? Uh-huh.

Then she started calling out sounding a little distressed. Fear not, I wasn't far away. She was testing out her independence. I knew she'd closed her bedroom door and snuck in there to get into mischief. Hand on the door knob, turn, and the door does not open. What does one do in this situation? Just what does one do? Try the door knob again. No cigar. Clearly the door knob has fallen off (as it has become prone to do) and now I can't open it. Ergh.

Start breathing a little heavier. What to do, what to do. Window is closed. Not skinny enough to slide down a small space between staircase and room. Thankfully at this time my father-in-law walked in.

I had by this called Matt (on the phone) and subsequently hung up on him when my FIL walked in. I cried out for help.

He came to the rescue with a hammer and smashed a window to release Tiny. Phew. We smashed the window MacGyver stylie. (Did you watch Lawrence Leung 'Choose Your Own Adventure' on the ABC? GOLD!)

Tiny's foray into locking herself into rooms. Hmm. That's certainly not the injection of excitement I've been looking for.

PS - I quit my sewing classes today. Ole!

Kiddie Craft:: It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

We've been doing a little 'therapeutic' crafting around here. A little Christmas kiddie craft. I grabbed a few things at the craft store, in a blaze of popping ears and a toddler talking a million miles an hour, even though I couldn't hear a thing.

A few things. A few sparkly things. I felt a little bamboozled. I always do when I'm faced with so many options. I was a bit unsure that the Doctor had the fine motor skills for this one. But to my pleasant surprise, it was a good crafting activity for concentration and to sit side-by-side and craft and chat. Nice.

Sparkly disco Christmas trees.

The Doctor's tree is the one with the large sequins. You can cover a lot of ground with those sequins, which I think for a three and a half year old is very attractive. Plus, it was a lot less fiddly than the small stars. He did start with stars, then went with the sequins.

But fear not. I don't decorate 'til December. So while we're in the throes of making decorations, they're not out yet. I'm not living in a department store.

Hoppo Bumpo Is My Homegirl

So last night was the first night of the rest of my life. Or at least, the first night of sewing classes. Either way, I was nervous, as I am when I start something new, butterflies brewing in my stomach, it felt like first-day-of-school jitters!

I arrived at 7pm with a young girl, her mother and her brother. She would have been around 16. I realised then that the night ahead could be filled with teenie boppers, and I decided right then and there that I was just going to deal with being an almost 30 year old novice sewer. I had to be ok with it.

Then a couple of women my age turned up. Phew! I didn't have to pretend I knew who the Jonas Brothers were. Or what shade of chapstick I was going to wear so it didn't clash with my braces. Or who I was going to pash at the back of the school oval the next day, like, like, ok? Something like that.

I pulled out my pattern (big ups to Hoppo Bumpo who hooked me up with the right pattern - Simplicity 8493 - kids pjs - awwww yeah!). Thank goodness for this recommendation. Hoppo Bumpo is the goods. This pattern was right up my alley - and a good starting point. The Doctor and I had fun choosing some fabrics (though where I'm more prone to spots and yachts, he's more prone to diggers and dumptrucks - yikes!). We settled on a selection with the pattern in my hot little hand.

Back to the class - it was when I was cutting out my pattern that I decided that I was going to ask questions. Loads of questions. I wasn't to care if people ogled me thinking 'jeepers' this kidult is only just learning to sew' - nope. Not me. I was above that. I was starting out. I had let it be known. I've revved a sewing machine to sew myself some scrunchies back in the day, but that's the extent of it. Ok, ok, I'll confess again - my sister used to do my school sewing projects when she came home from uni, ok?

So pattern cut, fabric cut. Pants sewn, pants overlocked, and the teacher tells me that next week I will be finishing the pjs altogether. A little disappointing for The Doctor who thought he was getting them today (though I gently tried to warn him that mummy was wearing an L-plate for a reason). He also tried to tell me that he should come with me to sewing. And when that wasn't working, he told me that 'Daddy and I can be your teachers mummy, you don't have to go.'

Yes.. And how would that be for my mental health. Not so good. But sewing class - awww yeah, strictly for the hardcore. And Hoppo Bumpo is my homegirl.

Remember?

While there are some things I love about the *new* Sesame Street would it be awfully bad of me to admit, I long for the familiarity of the old... The Doctor doesn't even watch the new style Sesame Street. In fact, he avoids it, while I sit and look at it, and watch for a trace of what I knew. But there's Trash Gordon (seriously - Gordon went from shopkeeper to playing Trash Gordon in tights?!), Maria and a few others, but meh, so what.

So it was a happy piece of nostalgia when I found this...

Remember?

Tonight Is The Night

Firstly, it's garbage night and the feeling's right, yes it's garbage night... Will it be trash or treasure tonight? Oooh I am rubbing my hands together in anticipation. Gloves and torch are at the ready! I never got around to showing you this little item I picked out of the bin on one of my missions. It's German, ja? I've still not even opened it, but the packaging is pretty super..

The above video is dedicated to my bin. Yes, yes it is. Please watch it. Love it. Play it loud and proud. Look at Kenny Rogers then. Now look at Kenny Rogers (scroll down to number 10). What the heck was this man thinking? He looked like a nice dude before, I liked his wrinkles. He looked a little like Santa. Now, not so much - he doesn't even look like Kenny Rogers!

Anyway, enough of that tangent. We're getting ready to Postman Pat. Though I am a little worried (oh the pressure!) that we're going to disappoint. Never fear, we'll forge forward and do what we can do.

It's our third wedding anniversary next week. Wracking my brains for a small gift idea. It's leather. Whip suggestions need not apply! I'm thinking leather photo frame. Anyone seen any nice ones lately?

Kiddie Craft:: Spring Lambs

Because we're housebound (it's even hotter today) we're doing a minimally messy kiddie craft activity today.

When I think Spring time, I think flowers, butterflies, bees all a-buzzing, sunshine, the promise of Summer, and baby animals. Cute, fluffy, baby, snooky, snuggly baby animals. Who doesn't love a baby animal (and I'm not talking Suze deMarchi)?

So I came up with this genius idea. Well I am sure it's not new. In fact I know it's not a new idea. This is another of those fail-safe craft activities to do with the smalls.

Spring lambs. Just the name excites me. I love baby lambs. So cute. So clumsy. So fragile. So we set to making some. I googled lamb stencils and found a couple of different ones. I set about printing them out (which took longer than the whole crafting experience itself). The Doctor (my son who calls himself Dr. Sanchez will from herein be referred to as The Doctor) organised the cotton balls. I organised the glue and paint brushes and we set to.

If I had an artistic bone I would have drawn my own lamb and bypassed the printing experience. There's a special note in that for crafty mamas. Save yourself from wrangling the printer. Draw your own I say!

I usually don't really give The Doctor strict instructions. I let him see what I am doing, and he can either do the same, or something similar. No hard and fast rules.

But for this one, well, perhaps I should have set some more guidelines. This was the end result. Enter the Spring lamb. So woolly it can't see whether it's Arthur or Martha. Poor baby lamb.

So Tired Sunday: Then There Was One

damien hirst's shark - a little different to our fish breeding program

We had a busy Sunday which was a happy, happy thing because I got to see my nephews and brother-in-law who I haven't seen in over a year. Particularly great because they got to meet their newest cousin, and we all got to kick back with a delicious lunch by my sister and other bro-in-law. Good times.

Previously on pottymouthmama I had mentioned our silverfish dying. Well would you believe we saw another two fatalities over the weekend and now there's just one lonely little fish left? It may have had something to do with the fact that Matt walked in when our son was tipping the fish from one bowl to another, rather excitedly. I don't think goldfish do that particularly often in the wild, hence their rapid demise. And today I see one of our snails is floating on the surface of the water. This pet-owning thing is not going well for us.

As a conclusion to the original silver fish that has left us to go swimming in greater waters - I must concur with a number of commenters. I think the other fish must have eaten him. You've no idea how much that disgusts me. It's almost as bad as the mice we had to breed in Year 7, our mummy mouse birthed a whopping 13 babies and ate seven of them. I can't ever imagine eating my own children, but hey - different strokes for different folks.

In other news, Emily from the delightfully effervescent and beautifully-hued sugar & meringue tagged me. Here's the lowdown on how to play:

1) Link to the person who tagged you

2) Mention the rules

3) Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about yourself

4) Tag six other bloggers by linking to them

5) Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they’ve been tagged

Here are my six reasonably quirky and yet boring (quirky and boring - wowsers, I thought these things were mutually exclusive) things about moi:

* During Year 12 I got my Dad to tape each of the episodes of Australia's Most Wanted so I wouldn't miss it. I loved that show. I have some freaky fascination with crime shows. CSI - the original is my favourite. I even have a special CSI dance I do while the show theme music is running, much to the amusement of my husband.

* I am ridiculously terrified of spiders. I need to get over it, I know. But they seem to follow me. It all started when I was nine and had a life size poster of Elle MacPherson in my bedroom. I thought my sisters had played a prank on me and put a fake spider in my room. I went to pick it up and just as I went to grab it, the damn hairy thing moved. I didn't sleep in my bedroom for two nights after that. Following that they were in the car above my head. Then in some tracksuit pants my sister borrowed from me. I clearly remember lying on my bed when she came in to borrow them. She wondered what was in them, thought it was the drawstring and flicked out a ginormous huntsman. We squealed like piglets. Dad had to come and rescue us. See a pattern here? Spiders terrify me.

* During my pre-labour with my son I walked 2 kms to the supermarket. I was in denial and HAD to go to Coles to pick up my supplies to make labour aid (which subsequently exploded all over my foot in my sister's car on the way to the birth centre). I picked up Sex and the City DVDs on the way home while experiencing intermittent contractions and grimacing at the man serving me who said a little too cheerily "See you on Sunday" - all the while thinking, no, no you won't because you have no idea, but I AM HAVING A BABY RIGHT NOW! PS - I never even drank the damn labour aid.

* When I am nervous I get a rash all over my decolletage and it creeps up my face. Same happens when I drink vodka.

* I hate shoe shopping. I am probably the only woman in the history of mankind to ever say that. I have size 11/12 feet. It doesn't help when I ask for my size shoe and the shop assistant comes back and says, "No I don't have that size, but I've got an 8 or a 9." Well that's really useful, I'll just go either a) dislocate my toes, or bind them and shove those suckers on my feet, or b) chop off my toes.

* I ran away from university when I was 19. I asked this guy who lived in the same building as me to drive me to the train station and to not tell anyone where I had gone. I have no idea for the need for such secrecy, but I went home to my parents and knew I'd never go back to that university. A few days later the RA of the university campus accommodation rang up and asked my parents if they knew where I had gone. Of course they knew, I was at home in my old bedroom. Some people told me I'd regret it. I didn't. I've never looked back.

And six bloggers that I think should step up to bat for the boring yet quirky tagging?

- Hugo & Elsa (Michelle is living my dream life in Tasmania)

- Che & Fidel

- Hoppo Bumpo

- Paper Dolls for Boys (Tracey - I know you have more of this)

- ChoccyBangles

- bugandpop

Play if you want to. Come on. You know you want to.

Kiddie Craft:: Spring-time Butterflies

I know you already know how to make these. I'm safely assuming this because everyone at some stage in their childhood has made these deliciously easy, and utterly satisfying butterflies. Yesterday we spent the good part of an hour squishing them out to discover new breeds of the pretties.

All you need:

- paint (non-toxic)

- spoons so the little one can dollop on big fat, shiny globs of paint

- lotsa lotsa paper

- fingers for squishing out the butterflies

I trust you don't need instructions. Wing it. Pun absolutely and definitely intended. If you do need instructions, email me. I'll craft some up for you. Boom! Boom! Pun really ridiculously intended again. Sorry. Tough crowd tonight.

Superheroes

In some crazy attempt to steer my son onto another interest other than trains, even if it's just for a fleeting moment, I've told him I am going to make him a superhero cape.

I told him on the drive up to Tamworth, to which he replied, "That's a good idea". Or something to that effect.

So while I was home I went to Spotlight. I think they must seriously have a mega-store because I could have got lost in there for days, happily, alas I had to get home for lunch and a visit from my grandmother. There are so many goodies to pick up there, it's sometimes difficult to stay focussed, but you'd be proud, I stayed on target.

This is what I've hunted and gathered to transform my son from train driver into superhero. What Superhero doesn't like a bit of bling? Keeps them looking schmick as they cruise through the air at high altitude. Think it can be done? Gosh I hope so for all of our sakes (otherwise you'll get some very funny after shots after I've had a go!). Luckily my sewing classes start in approximately three weeks, but I'll be darned if this isn't just the ticket to stretch my sewing know-how beforehand and show myself I can sew, even if it is wonky and wobbly and all of that. At least it will be made with a whole lotta love. Or even better, I will look for a simple tutorial.. Yes indeedy! If you know of one that's uber simple, can you let me know? Muchos grazias!

Edit: My good friend Google and I just found one here if anyone wants to create a cape too.

PS - If you were the Anonymous commenter (and we all know how much we love Anonymous when they have an acerbic tongue) who commented please send me your address. I have a Lucky Door Prize for you. As the winner of my Lucky Door Prize I'd love to send you a brand spankin' Webster dictionary, so that next time you comment, you can ensure your comment is spelt correctly. Because there's nothing more embarrassing than cussing on the mike when you can't spell the word, is there??

We're Back

So we're back in Old Sydney town. What an anti-climax. We're back so we can put our noses to the grindstone and hit reality hard. Pooh to that I say. I wish my whole life was one big holiday.

I had such a wonderful time being at home. Nothing beats being at home I say.

So I promised I would show you the remainder of my thrifting finds. Well there's too numerous to mention, to the point where Matt has said I am going to have to open a shop and sell my goodies because it's getting kind of ridiculous. But in a good way ridiculous...

I've exorcised most of the mothballs and now the goodies are into the ironing pile.. Except my ironing board broke the other day (and let me tell you, it wasn't from overuse, that's for shizzle), and then I went to buy a new one and almost had a coronary at how expensive a good one is.

I digress dear reader.

So thrifty-licious, here goes... Check out those chestnuts. The ladies at the op-shop were even kind enough to give me discounts ('cause you need a discount when something is marked 30c - please note, I tried to dissuade them from this but they wouldn't have a bar of it).

My little guy is already planning our next trip to Tamworth. He digs hanging out with my parents. Mum keeps him busy in the garden, playing trains and my Dad reads him stories and rumbles with him. As well as the next trip, he's also planning the next one after that, and then the one after that. He told me so as I was tucking him into bed.

What We're Doing Today

It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. The spiders are where they should be - anywhere but close to me. The babies are cooing. The toddlers are toddling. Isn't Spring the bomb?

Today we're outside. Lapping up the sunshine. Letting the warmth warm up our spirits. We're building cubbyhouses out of old sheets, having a tea party. Loving the sunshine! Happy weekends ahoy!