Have a laugh on me

We're not all in the same boat, some of us struggle to even get in the boat!


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It’s time re-discover my old mates – Willpower and Motivation.

It’s funny when I look at this pic I can’t believe a wee babe was in there waiting to hatch! (No.3 was born 2.5 weeks after this was taken).

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I’ve just realised that I need to make my body my temple – instead of using it as a work horse.

I need to make sure I’m putting in enough of the good stuff in, a little of the not so good stuff in, and just a teeny bit of the really bad stuff, (eg plonk, choc and caffeine)

This isn’t going to be an easy road but it’s one I’m slowing leaning towards, especially as my babes grow and I can’t say “Oh I just had a baby”. That was like more than a year ago! (yet the pain of childbirth seems still so fresh in my mind)

But my biggest battle is finding my two old friends – willpower and motivation.

I had a great connection with them before kids, and I know I have to re-kindle the relationship.

I know I can – I just have to figure out how!


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Mums and bums

I’m super lucky to have a mum who lives a few hours away and visits when she can.
When she is here my life is less hectic, for many reasons.

I love my mum and here’s just a snapshot of why..

* She takes over as official bum wiper when she’s here.

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* She makes the best quiche and always does my dishes.
* We have lots of giggles (and bubbles)
* She pretends the tomato sauce container is farting at the dinner table.
* Despite having three kids herself, she’ll attempt to bounce on the trampoline with kids.
* My plants always get watered and floor always swept, gotta love a Virgo.
* Cuddles and hugs are in abundance when she’s here.
* I can shower without an audience.
* If I’m super cranky and bossy still loves me.

Mwah mumma!


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Don’t call my daughter stinky!

I promised myself a wouldn’t be a helicopter mum – circling my offspring like they’re prey, keeping a close eye on their every move.

But if you call my girl stinky, me and my tuck-shop arms will come flapping in your direction.

It’s not the act of name calling in itself, because let’s face it every kid does it – it’s the fact the name calling was constant and it made her not want to go to daycare.

I’m not known for my ”thinking before I speak”, and most of the time I call a spade a spade – even if it isn’t. This isn’t always conducive to a amiable outcome.

So when No.1 was visibly upset about the continue name calling I had to have my say. It was in the form of a very long email – written at 4am in the morning after I couldn’t sleep.

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In hindsight the ”Bull in a China shop approach” probably wasn’t the best way to address the issue, but it served as a great lesson for me. A reminder to pull my head in and realise that everyone has a story – and some kids aren’t as lucky as mine in regards to their stable family background.

Needless to say the wee girl in question doesn’t exactly have a charmed home life so was probably acting out for that reason, she also had older siblings who taught her the joys of swearing (which No.1 will probably do to my No.2 and No.3)

Here’s a few extracts of my email – some of which I regret – some I think FIGJAM!!!

“Most days in her class a group of girls tell she is stinky and that she can’t play with them. It’s fine that they don’t want her to play with them as you can’t make children be friends.

“There is no hygiene problem No. 1 is not stinky and I know it’s just a cruel taunt by some clicky group of girls who appear to be allowed to rule the classroom/playground. (FIGJAM)

“We reassure her at home that she is not stinky and to tell a carer. And while she does seem reasonably happy, I’m fearful the constant taunts will whittle her confidence levels down, especially a whole year of them, and in her year before school.

“If you’re constantly being told something, you often end up believing it.”  (FIGJAM)

“Of course I have spoken to her teachers and one of them said ‘well next time I just won’t tell you’ eg when someone says something mean to her.”

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“This is not acceptable and at the time I was tempted to bring it up with you, however, for fear that No.1 would be treated differently by her I did not.

As for addressing the problem, I don’t know if her careers fully understand how devastating it is to know your child is sad because she is told every day she is stinky.

“Each day I drop her off with a heavy heart (and heavy load , thinking, here I am paying to put my child in a place where she is being picked on.

“In fact, most days I hurry to pick her up, despite still having a heavy workload, just in case she is playing by herself or sad.”

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The end result was that my complaint was used as a way to apply for more money for another carer to be placed in the room and help the child and keep an eye on her.

So while maybe I overreacted a little bit – I’m kind of glad I did.

However – I’ve backed off a bit in regards to the school yard taunts and complaints – because like the Husband says – you can’t fight your kids battles.

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 No matter how much you want to!!!!


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Hey idiots, learn how to indicate at a roundabout.

How bloody hard is it to learn how to indicate around and through a roundabout people?!

I’ve had a enough of it and nearly blown a head gasket thinking about it.

Every morning dozens of gumbies fail to indicate properly at the four roundabouts I have to go through to get to the supermarket and pre-school.

Most idiots drivers have their right indicator on when they are driving straight through a roundabout, making me think they are going to proceed around it – BUT NO!!

They then drive straight through without turning on their left indicator to let me know they are exiting the roundabout.

 

Even my children now know how to indicate properly – we practice with matchbox cars.

 

IT DRIVES ME BATTY!!! The old joke ”did you win your licence in a cornflakes packet” doesn’t ever cover the stupidity I see every day.

These drivers obviously bribed or slept with their instructors to get a licence or they are missing a chromosome. Either that or they are inherently lazy f$%ers who don’t give a crap about other drivers.

Here’s the facts about roundabouts off the Department of Transport and Main Roads:

 

Turns that occur at roundabouts can be described by imagining the roundabout to be a clock face.

 

Any turn that exits the roundabout before 12 o’clock can be considered a left turn. Any turn that exits after 12 o’clock can be considered a right turn.

 

For those people who can’t read or understand simple instructions – here’s a visual.

DO NOT INDICATE RIGHT AT A ROUNDABOUT IF YOU’RE GOING STRAIGHT THRU!!!!

Learn it and use it people and please share with every other Queenslander because I’ll soon have to start taking matter into my own hands.

And in the words of Dr David Banna (aka the Incredible Hunk)  ”You won’t like me when I’m angry”.

That is all.

 


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I’ve got the guilts

So after ranting and raving about my crazy day I feel bad.

I have an amazing husband who is the best dad ever, and although he only has 1 day off a week, he has spent it with his kids – being superdad! (he did watch motosport for half the arvo, but you can’t win them all)

This afternoon I have been showered with cuddles, kisses and tickles. In fact I’ve been playing ”dino mum” for half the afternoon.

My pigsty of a house is also immaculate thanks to a team effort (and a few bribes) which means tomorrow will be a much happier day for all.

So this is more like an ‘I’m very grateful for my lot’ post, despite the fact it seems all I do is moan.

Which is also pretty much on the money.

 

 


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Just leave me alone

DISCLAIMER – I really do love my children – the love I have for them takes my breath away.
 
But today I just want them all to leave me alone.
 
If I have to stop one more fight, change one more nappy, empty the potty for the 8th time, wipe another bum, or get more EAT EAT EAT for No.2 – my head is going to explode.
 
This house is stocked from head to toe with cars, lego, half-nude Barbies, cars, My Little Ponies, games, cars, tractors, dinosaurs, tents, cars, books – but all my children want is me.
 
I’ve tried telling them that “I’m not here” today but they didn’t fall for it.
 
Sometimes they can tell when I’m completely worn down and are smart enough to play on it. They know I’ll say yes to anything to keep the peace.
 
“Yes you can have an ice cream for breakfast but finish your lollipop first” (this was a day I wasn’t particularly proud of).
 
And there is nowhere to hide in my house. Not even the walk-in robe is safe because they can reach the door handles.
 
The next house we live in I’m going to put swipe cards on each door, like a hotel. That will slow them down.
 
The only room with a lock on it is our bathroom and I’m not that desperate – yet!
 
And in a moment of weakness yesterday I promised face painting and am now being nagged every minute to do it.
 
No.3 has been body slamming into me for the past 10 minutes, having just learned how to do this from No.2.
 
In addition to having three noisy, cheeky, needy kids, every room of my house has been trashed and I’m trying to muster up the energy and motivation to do it. The thing is, once it’s clean and tidy it reverts to a trash heap within hours. But I’m one of these people that get a feeling of euphoria once my house is immaculate. Sad but true.
 
And all I can hear is the sound of an annoying ride-on toy that the Husband just fixed for No.3.
 
I’m off the bathroom.


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Who’d be a nanny in New York? – me.

Being a nanny isn’t an easy gig, but the best part about it is you can give the kids back at the end of the day.

Last week’s report of the woman who killed two of the three children she was ”mummy” to have instilled fear in the hearts of all those who have a nanny, particularly those in New York.

When I was 20 I boarded a big jet plane to work as a nanny in New York. It was before, during and after the Sept 11 attacks so the immigrations laws weren’t so restrictive back then. I was allowed to stay for 3 months legally – but ended up living there on and off for three or so years.

As a nanny you are an instant mother to kids you’ve never meet before. And not having a background in childcare or teaching (I studied media, communications and journalism in fact) I found it quite challenging at times.

I managed to get the first two kids I cared for onside reasonably quickly by acting funny and making them laugh, but from memory it was bloody hard work trying to negotiate with a 2 and 4-year-old.

But I knew that at 6.45pm I would be relinquished of my duties and then I was out the door, to the gym, visits friends, shopping or hiding out in my room, hoping they wouldn’t come and find me.

Don’t get me wrong I loved those kids but it’s only now as a mother that I can see the HUGE responsibility bestowed upon me.

I had a fantastic network of friends who were nannies nearby, mostly other Kiwis, we had a reputation in the US for being some of the best workers and carers.

We also knew how to party hard and as often as we could. We were in New York and the world was our oyster!

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That’s me on the left in a little red racy number – and two of my high school friends, who were also nannies in NY.  They stayed and worked there for much longer, found gorgeous Irish men and married them and now have children of their own!

Life was just one big party really, but I still had to be mindful that Monday morning I was ”mum” again – and being a mum with a hangover ain’t pretty. ( I can speak from experience, in fact right now I’m suffering from a sore head after more than few reds with my BFF, totally worth it!).

The second family I worked for were just awesome, they had met late in life and left it too late to have children so they adopted Zachary. They loved him so much and wanted to spend every second they weren’t working with him.

As soon as they got home from work I was off duty no matter the time, this was not like my first nanny job where I was a mum from 6.45am to 6.46pm – regardless of who was home.

Everyone parents differently but I found it heartbreaking trying to explain to young kids they couldn’t go play with mummy because she was having ‘mummy time’.

But I bonded with Zack and Angel, the gorgeous golden retriever, and she pretty much became the other child I cared for and loved. Another very important life lesson learned here, owning a dog is pretty much the same as having a child, well responsibility wise.

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Because he was an only child I played with him a lot when he wasn’t at school. But not because I was paid (very well) to – but because he was a smart cookie, cute and very loving.

I also cried for him when kids were mean to him at school because he was slightly eccentric, highly intelligent and never stopped talking about dinosaurs, of which he knew every one of their names and how to pronounce them at just 7 years old.

I started to realise what being a nanny was all about, I was partying less (no hang on that’s not true) – but I felt more connected to Zack and would have done anything for him.

And that is what being a nanny is all about.

Being there to protect a small, innocent, defenseless child – and I get the goosebumps when I even start to think about those poor babies that were hurt by the person they trusted the most after their parents, their nanny.

As a person I pride myself on being able to put myself in other people’s shoes, I think it makes me a better person.

However, since becoming a mother I make a point of NOT putting myself in the shoes of mums who have had something horrific happen to their children. I consider myself a pretty strong person but it’s not something I even want to fathom.

This is not to say my heart doesn’t break for them – it does – but I can’t take it on board, call it my coping mechanism.

As for all those nannies in New York, I really feel for them. Life’s about to get much harder for them, and for some maybe it should.

Then again I also feel for the mums who have to leave their babies with someone they think they know and hope they’ll be loved, cared for and made to laugh every day.

But how well can you really know someone?