The amazing 2’s xxx

I hear people refer to the terrible two’s a lot when it comes to toddlers. Now I’m not saying that there aren’t days that my child doesn’t push me to the brink of insanity or a nervous breakdown but the episodes are thankfully relatively short and don’t happen every day. I lovingly refer to LMM as going through the amazing 2’s.

I wake up every morning happy and ready to see what my little munchkin is going to say or do next. It also helps when I see her little face inches from me smiling and saying “good morning mummy” or “morning mummy can I have a bottle?” or “Mummy can I pwease watch cartoons?” always with a little sleepy grin on her face and having the most amazing little smell coming from her – until she shoves her bum in my face and says “take my nappy off please”. Generally there is a period in-between waking up and having to get to work that pushes me to the edge of despair – but directly after that I’m back to being happy and ready to see what awesomeness LMM will bring to my day.

I know that there are those out of you that are saying there is no way you wake up every morning happy and there certainly is no way that your child fills you with joy, happiness and laughter every day but I’m really sorry its true. I’m not writing this to make my life sound perfect because it certainly isn’t and my child and I certainly aren’t perfect either but I genuinely am happy every day and my daughter fills me with joy and happiness and laughter every day – even with her mini meltdown’s.

Each day is like a little mystery bag of laughter, smiles and you are one crazy little girl.

LMM turns 3 in September so I’ve especially found the last four months particularly eventful. The things coming out her mouth amaze me, surprise me, make me wonder how a two-year old has even thought of it, and on the odd occasion horrifies me like the time she heard the word for fucks sake on T.V and confidently turned around to me and said for fucks sake mummy (from that moment on only G rated is allowed in the house until she is asleep.)

I remember when I was pregnant a friend of mine said to me – When they’re a baby they’re cute, and then they turn one and they are cuter and then they get to two and three it just gets beyond cute. I thought to myself damn how do you get cuter than a baby……well now that I have a two-year old I totally get what he was saying. I’m not sure how much more cuteness I can take or I might explode.

In the last few months LMM has started singing show tunes like: tomorrow from Annie, songs from the Lion King and Frozen. She has also started quoting random sayings from movies into every day life – like the time we were in the car and I said something to her and she said Hakuna Matata mummy… well I’ll be damned you cheeky little minx 🙂

Some of LMM’s most classic quotes to come out her mouth are:

  • You have a big bum mummy and I have a little bum – well I never!
  • Don’t speak to me like that mummy – after I told her not to stand so close to the microwave while waiting for her bottle
  • You’re not my best friend any more mummy – After I wouldn’t let her watch cartoons in bed (that one broke my heart, but not as much as…..)
  • You’re not my best friend and I don’t love you – I took the high road and said “well that’s ok, I still love you and your still my best friend”
  • Don’t look at me while I’m on the toilet – but insists that I stay in the toilet with her to talk to her
  • May I please ask you a question mummy – then continues on by not asking a question but having a random conversation with me
  • Of course you can mummy, when I asked her if i could have a taste of her ice cream.

LMM and I were in Melbourne just recently and myself, LMM and grandma all shared a bed (you have to get mummy/grandma cuddle times in when you live in Perth), my mum and I were fascinated by the little conversations and thoughts going through her little mind. She chatted about her chocolate birthday cake, her pink peppa pink party, she named all the friends she had invited to her party all the while asking me little questions and asking if grandma was still awake.

Being a working mum the best time of the day for me is picking LMM up from daycare. The smile that lights up her face when she sees me makes the most awful or hardest days vanish away in a milli second. She is the light of my life and my rainbow on a rainy day. Then there is that hour before bed where everything else is put aside and she is like the devil incarnate put on earth to test and torture me…then she falls asleep after reading books and cuddle and kisses and I love you and she is an angel once more – who needs to go to an amusement park when you have a 2 year old – it’s a constant roller coaster ride.

I can’t wait to see what amazing things LMM does when she turns 3, although I’m not looking forward to the equally impressive tantrums and meltdown that I’m assuming will come with all the added 3 year old cuteness xxx

Strong and Indepent xx

Ever since LMM was at an age where she could communicate with me I’ve given her choices; nothing crazy just little things like: Do you want a big bottle or a little bottle? Do you want it hot or cold? What fruit would you like to buy?…You get the idea. My partner used to say to ‘me why do you give her choices?’ She’s a child just give her what she’s going to get.

Here’s the thing though, 2 years on and her daddy is now saying wow she really knows what she want’s and I can’t believe how easily she makes decisions. I think that is so amazing Aileen.

The thing is, as much as I love that my daughter is strong and independent and is able to tell me exactly what she wants there are times that it makes my life difficult….Like in the morning when I’m trying to get us ready for work and daycare. On these days I turn away and hold my breath and say “Aileen, you created this little girl, you gave her the freedom to make choices and know what she wants…now suck it up and get on with it.”

Easier said than done when your little munchkin loves to sleep in till 8-8.30 and your meant to leave for work/daycare at 9.30. LMM get’s up announces that she wants a bottle for breakfast, can she please watch cartoons but wants you to pause the cartoons so she can come with you while you get her the said bottle.

Fast forward to half and hour later, you’ve got yourself dressed and bags packed and ready to go but madam Magoo wants to-put her own socks on, and her own undies, and her own pants oh and she also wants to brush her own hair and teeth and don’t forget my vitamins mum. These are the mornings that I think… what have I created. To be honest even then that’s not really true, any other time of the day I have not a problem that she wants to do everything herself. I’ve alway encouraged LMM to learn to do things and try to do things herself.

But oh how the mornings are the bane of my existence!!!

Other than that though I’ve purposely given LMM choices and I’ve always shown her how to do anything that she shows an interest in learning. Why? Well, first because my mum always did the same with me and secondly because LMM has the capacity to learn and make choices. I’m hoping that as she grows up she can make her own decisions and not be swayed by peer group pressure or other people around her. She can stand confidently by her convictions and her choices and say NO when she doesn’t want to do something.

I like that LMM asks me “can I do that?” or “show me mummy?” I also love that when I give her a choice she confidently tells me what she wants. I hope that as the years go on she grows into a confident young woman that doesn’t need to rely on anyone else to make decisions or choices for her, or can make the choice between right or wrong because she’s been given the opportunity to have a voice that is valued and heard and her decisions are respected.

In the meantime I wish there was a little pause button for days I need to get to work on time xx

Every minute of every day xx

I read a blog on Facebook recently, where the woman blogger wrote “any woman that say’s they love being a mother every moment of every day is lying.” Well as a rule I don’t usually respond or comment on other people’s opinions, but on this one I’m going to make an exception.

I do love being a mother every minute of every day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks of the year. Oh and I’m not LYING!

Now I’m not saying that being a mother is easy every minute of every day, because let’s face it, it’s not. There are days I’m exhausted as I drop my daughter off at daycare and then trudge my way to the car to go to work and it’s only 9.30am – days like this I sigh and put on my big girl panties and say to myself “go on, get on with it.”

What gets me through my day as I sit at my desk is the tiny little person waiting for me to pick her up from daycare. That is one of the best parts of my day. When I see her little face smile at me as she catches a glimpse of me from whatever toy she’s playing with my heart melts and no matter how tired I am or how busy a day I’ve had everything is better. I love being a mum to this little girl every second of every day!

I know that not every woman finds being a mother the easiest or most natural thing in the world and babies and children sure don’t come with an instruction manual, but just because there are women out there that feel as if they don’t love being a mother all the time and perhaps in some cases not at all, no one should push that feeling onto the women who do love being mums and feel that they are pretty damn good at it.

Being a mother is a privilege; we get to do something with our bodies that is a pure miracle. We grow a life; a tiny little human who depends on us for everything. There is no purer form of love than that you get from your child, how could you not love this little person every second of every day. A child’s love is unconditional they love you no matter what. That love should be reciprocated ten times over.

There have been days since my daughter turned two that I haven’t particularly liked her very much. When she turned two it’s like a little naughty switch turned on automatically. There was a day this week that she pushed me and pushed me all day and her nana as well. It got to 10pm and the little brat was still going. I just wanted her to go to sleep so I could sit down for five minutes. No I definitely didn’t like her very much that day, but I still loved her throughout it all. Every second of her terrible two, brattish behaviour!

Being a mother is not always easy, it’s challenging at times and exhausting a lot of the time but the rewards you get in return far outweigh any of this. So just to make it clear one last time with the love that my daughter gives me every day there is no other outcome for me……I love my child every moment of every day xx

Average every day mum xx

I was chatting to some of the younger staff at work the other day about Instagram and I was boasting that I had just hit 150 followers – pat on the back for me I was thinking! I was quickly re buffed from one of the young boys who said I’m on 720 followers (all right now, no need to show off, let a woman have her moment.) Curiously, I asked how does one get so many followers on Instagram? I was quickly educated that it’s all about the hashtag, the more popular the hashtag you use the wider audience you get. For likes it’s also about the time you post your picture. Quite frankly it sounds a little scary for my liking – like a pass for any Joe blow to stalk you – but if it’s all about the followers who am I to argue?

One of the young boys said “you should check out this mum that’s from Australia, she’s just an average mum and wife with two kids, she has 4 million followers and Instagram pays her over a million dollars a year.” Quickly I counted up in my head how many more followers I would need to get Instagram to pay me to take random pictures of me and my life. I thought if an average Aussie mum of two can do it surely I can too? If this was a game show this is where the buzzer would come in. Ba Baaang you’re so wrong your out!!

Now really the fault is mine. I should have been clued into that something was off when I had two young men under the age of 25 tell me to check out this average Aussie mum of two – who isn’t a celebrity by the way (which is I think on reflection what they were referring to as the average part, I hope) but is pretty. Alas, I was naïve and after finding this average mum of two on Instagram quickly put aside any hope of Instagram paying this average mother of one a dime let alone over a million dollars. What shot out in front of me was a beautifully coiffed Barbie doll. Big lips, blonde hair, big lashes, great body, Kardashian arse and a set of boobies to match, teeny tiny waist, perfectly manicured nails, big eyes, fully tanned and the nicest gym gear I had ever seen (my poor grotty mis-matched gym gear is hanging its head in shame right now.) Gorgeous yes, average Aussie mother…..no.

When I got home I curiously picked up my phone and looked this woman up on Instagram again. I started scrolling through her pictures and was confronted with one perfect image after another. Always perfectly made up, posing either on her own or with her kids or husband. I got to one picture that showed her standing at her kitchen bench, once again in great gym gear, (I think she might be endorsing the gym gear as well as the protein shake she had in her hand) perfectly made up with her new baby in one arm and a protein shake in the other with the caption “Multi tasking at it’s finest.” With this I laughed and thought to myself “oh my god these poor boys are in for such a shock if they think this is what an average woman with kids is like”. What they are more likely to get is the scene that played out in my house on Monday morning.

Picture this for a moment (let’s pretend I thought to upload it to Instagram). My daughter and I both in mis-matched flannel Pj’s, LMM with Paw Patrol top and Sophia bottoms and me with Betty Boop bottoms and a fluffy jumper with a big love heart on it curtosy of the wee wee’s my daughter decided to do over the two of us while watching frozen the night before. LMM and I both sporting matching birds nests (hair that she has unfortunately inherited from me) at the back of our heads. LMM has snot dripping down her nose and I am sporting lovely panda eyes, as I couldn’t be bothered taking off my mascara the night before. Besides the fact that I’m holding a toddler in lieu of a baby and a cup of tea instead of a protein shake, I’m going to say that while we are both multi tasking I would definitely be considered the average woman not the other way round.

I kept flicking through the images one after another; there was a picture of her inside a gorgeous designer car, as clean as a whistle compared to the likes of my car that hasn’t seen the inside of a car wash in the two years since my daughter was born. Neither has the inside been cleaned in as long. Needless to say at this point it would be easier for me to buy a new car rather than try to salvage this one. There are numerous photos of the mum with her kids wearing white – hands up to her, I can’t wear white any more and I rarely leave my house without some evidence of LMM’s existence on me.

Next I came across a picture of the so-called average mum of two sitting with her kids on the bed in front of the T.V while wearing what I am assuming is either the smallest undies or bathers bottoms I’ve ever seen or a pair of really small hot pants. Either way the image shows the mum sporting very small white bottoms, her flat stomach and her legs (with not one hair in sight) stretched out on her bed with her kids next to her (not one toy or chip in anywhere with the caption ‘my kinda Netflix and chill.’ Once again I had a laugh, thought of the reality that may one day present itself to the young boys from this generation of the ‘perfect Instagram pic’ or my favourite ‘snap chat’, as I re-capped on how I relaxed with my daughter on Sunday. I’ve been told that they could possibly be the ugliest tracksuits pants ever to be brought into this world. I don’t care; I love them and yes perhaps the bottoms do hang so far down my arse it looks like I’m 100 and in need of a butt lift. They also look like a family of mice have made a meal from them (but they do cover the patches of leg hairs I’ve missed in my haste to get out the shower) and perhaps my jumper is 20 years old and is now held toghethr at the arms with safety pins; but I’m comfy and I’m watching movies with my sick daughter who is equally dressed to impress while watching netlfix with her odd socks, christmas pj bottoms and her anna and else pj top on. While we watched netflix I sat with a towl on the chair underneath my daughter as she has decided after being fully toilet trained for the last 6 months to regress and wee herself while being comfy on the living room chair watching her artoons (catoons for those of you unfamiliar with toodler talk.)

Now let me clear something up for any of you who are thinking…..She is just jealous – because I’m not. I can admire a gorgeous woman for what she is, and there is more to this woman as well than just false lashes and a great tan. She is into fitness and trains hard for the body she has, she has her own website where she sells her fitness routine and what she eats online. She is working hard for what she gets from her association with Instagram and other companies that she plugs on her Instagram account and more power to her I say. She can give her family a comfortable life; there would be a lot of people out there who probably wish that they could do the same. I am merely amused that young boys are thinking that this is average, that this is what all woman look like before or after kids. That when they settle down their wife is going to awalk around being a perfectly coiffed barbie doll. When more likely than not the reality of what they will get is a woman who looks like she’s been rolled in last nights makeup, loves wearing her comfiest daggiest and ugliest clothes while lounging round the house (braless) and a child who wants to run roung in the nude which is the reason why they have a cold in the first place!

This woman has created a very very successful business for herself. Her full time job is to promote herself wether through her Instagram account or website or by advertising products she’s endorsing on these platforms as well. What she doesn’t represent though and this is what scares me for my daughter In the future is the average Australian woman or an average woman at all in fact. So all I can say is good luck to all the young men out there on finding your average everyday barbie doll – oh I mean woman!

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Clear to the foggy eye!

Standing Bleary eyed in front of the fridge at 3.30am with a screaming child in my arms in pain and wanting relief I fumble for the panadol and nurophen bottles. With eyes squinting and glasses cleary not working I struggle to double check the measurements of the dose I’m meant to give LMM. 

Now don’t get me wrong in the two years since LMM was born I’ve had to give her nurophen and panadol before and even though I know the dosage like the back of my hand relegiously I double check the dosage before I give her any medication. You just can’t be too careful when it comes to giving any medication to your little one.

Now at the best of times it’s hard to read the mls to be given and how often to give it but when you wear glasses like I do and your tired and it’s 3.30am it is quite frankly impossible to read the instructions.

Here I am standing in front of the fridge with LMM screaming in my arms and all I can think is for f’s sake why don’t they make the writing on the instruction section larger. 

The instructions on the bottles are so small it amazes me that people with perfect vision can read them let alone the visually challenged like myself. When it comes to giving medications to our precious little ones I have come to the conclusion that pharmaceutical companies should make it as visible and clear as possible so that there is no room for error and so that it could be seen by even the most visually of challenged people or just saying from the other side of the room (just to play it safe!) xx

Time xx

Once upon a time back in the day’s when the only person I had to care for was myself I was an extremely organised person. Everyone got a birthday card and present on time, I called my family and friends more than once every three months, my house was clean and tidy, everything on my to do list got done in a timely manner and I was extremely well-groomed and presented.

Fast forward to today and I buy birthday cards and presents weeks ahead of time; yet sometimes they make it a day or two late, on occasion they are a couple of weeks late or months later I find the birthday card somewhere that I don’t remember putting it; so obviously someone didn’t receive their birthday card (apologies to whoever that is by the way.)

When it comes to phoning family and friends well it’s not that I don’t want to talk to them but by the time I’ve gotten up, dressed, fed and organised LMM and I for the day and fed the dog, we are leaving for daycare. Once I’m at work my day is crazy and I don’t stop until I leave to go home where I race home at 4.30pm to cook dinner as it’s easier to do it without a little appendage hanging from one of my limbs. Then it’s 5.15pm time to pick up my shadow. We come home, eat dinner, shower, get into jammies, read a book and then it’s bottle time and asleep by 8.30pm  – sometimes, dare I say it 9pm!!!! I blink and my day is gone I haven’t had a chance to call anyone, returned any missed calls or most of the time responded to messages. Two or three months go by and i finally speak to someone lest they forget about me – I’m sorry, Aileen who? I don’t know anyone by that name!

Now when it comes to my house – back in days gone by I was almost OCD. My house was so clean and  tidy. Everything had a home, every cupboard was spotless and neat, my DVD’s where in alphabetical order, clothes colour coordinated and so on and so forth. My home at all times could have been used as a display home not a thing was out-of-place. Well that ship has sailed, and it has sunk like the titanic to the bottom of the ocean. Perhaps I am over exaggerating a little. I have a cleaner come in once a fortnight so at least I know my house is clean. Tidy, well the rooms we don’t use are spotless at all times (lol) Our bedroom, the laundry, the kitchen and the living room get a tidy once a week usually on a Sunday. Any OCD tendencies I had are gone as is my alphabeticalised DVD collection!

I admire the women out there that work, have a family of more than one child and still keep a clean house and who have dinners pre made for the week and who are organised. I mean that sincerely and with the slightest bit of envy.

My to do list is getting so long I would at this point need to hire a personal assistant just to help me get back on track. Each day something gets added to my to do list and each week i may if I’m really lucky cross one thing of it. By the time I deal with LMM who takes up 60%- 70% of my time, work, groceries, attending to the needs of the house hold there isn’t enough time for my to do list let alone time to do anything for myself.

So I guess you can imagine what I’m going to say next. There isn’t time any more for the way I used to look after myself. No more facials, no more hair masks, I am maintained enough on the outside so as not to frighten people away.

I’ve been thinking a lot about time recently; how I need more time in the day, the week and the year, what am i doing with my time? How can i better use my time?  What great things will I accomplish with the time I have left? At the rate I’m going will I accomplish great things with my life?????

I’m hoping that as LMM gets a little bit older and doesn’t want to be near her mummy at all times I might get back to resembling that organised woman again. But then I had someone say to me “It just gets worse as they get older, play dates, dancing, swimming, school sports, parties…..Well, I don’t really have anything to add to that one, maybe when my daughter turns 18 I’ll start to resemble the organised woman I once was – I hate to see what my to do list will look like by then! xx

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Me, myself and I xx

Recently I’ve been reading some great blogs written by women who are very raw, honest and truthful. They haven’t been afraid to share their story however ugly, taboo or terrible it may sound. Which got me thinking about my own blog and my own writing and in some ways this led me to start thinking about my every day life.

You see I’ve always liked to think that as I’ve grown older I’ve become more honest with myself and with others, that I tell it like it is no holds barred. Don’t get me wrong I’m not nasty – except for the time I told this guy my partner knew that “no I don’t like you actually” after he came out and said to me “you don’t like me do you?” Well he asked the question I just supplied the answer, even if I could have maybe sugar coated it a little. Which really brings me to my point that I have always thought I am straightforward and say it like it is.

It turns out I’m not quite like that 100% of the time. I’ve realised that if I’m telling a story about a passing stranger or an acquaintance, or saying something to them I am honest, brutally honest to the point of seeming harsh. But if it’s someone I know, love or care about there are a lot of stories I don’t tell and a lot of things I don’t say, or things I sugar coat.

When I’m thinking about stories for my blog I come up with about 2 or 3 stories a day but I quickly shelf them when I’ve done the following inner monologue: will someone think I’m writing about them, will I upset someone, will someone get offended, will someone get angry and so on and so forth. By the time I’ve done this I have vittoed a dozen stories which recently has lead me to a point where I haven’t written anything on my blog. Even if I want to write a story about myself or my daughter I don’t (or I’m careful with what I write when I do)  in case someone might think it has anything to do with them or I’m trying to make a point or get something across, when really it might just be a story about me or LMM that I want to share for myself.

In some respects I’ve lost my voice, hidden under a veil of fear, fear that if confronted I would have to confront the person before me, even if the answer is  “no the story has nothing to do with you” or “I’m sorry you feel that way I didn’t write it to upset you” – would they always wander if I was telling the truth? So I stay silent and have less and less to write about which isn’t why I started my blog in the first place. It was to share my thoughts and feelings and stories and to have a voice, to be heard by others instead of keeping it just within  the confines of my mind.

Its sad really to realise not only do you hold back in a blog that you write for fun, but when you start looking at things a little closer your holding back on saying the things you want to in every day life. From fear of confrontation and the consequences of what you have to say may bring, especially when it envolves those you love and care about. 

Even as I write this I’m thinking who’s going to come to me and say are you writing about me? Are there things that your not saying to me that you want to say but you don’t know how? When in this case in this blog the  answer is no the story isn’t about you and no there’s nothing I want or need to say to you right now. It’s just a blog about me, no one else.

So making this miraculous discovery about myself will I find my voice? Will I say what I have to say and write what I want to write? Instead of analysing every story before I even think about writing it, carefully hand picking a subject that won’t relate to anyone. I would like to hope that reading some of these women’s blogs and their own truth they tell will inspire me and give me the strength I’ve misplaced to tell my own truth and really what is just my version of a story that could be told in many different ways by many different voices.

So, here’s to writing the stories we want to tell and saying the things we want to say without fear and a running inner monologue putting you off xx

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Protect, Love, Cherish

I look at my daughter as she lies on the couch asleep next to me and the love I feel for her knows no bounds. The need to protect her from the evils in the world consume my daily thoughts and makes me want to cherish her all the more.

It is inconceivable to me that there is anyone that can hurt a child. The innocence that they have when they look at you and smile or laugh or cry is something that no one has the right to take away – yet it happens every second of every day. There is some monster out there that feels the need to extinguish the flame of light that only a child has.

More and more over the last couple of months as I hear one story after another of men and women abusing children, murdering children or neglecting children it fills me with anguish and makes me hold my daughter all the more tightly. But it also does something else to me; it makes me feel fear. Fear that while in my hands my child will never be anything but loved, protected and cherished there are those that live out there in my child’s world that would mean to cause her harm.

There is already so much that can affect a child’s life and make it difficult – Be it poor health, poverty, disability or any other manner of things. Why are there those that prey on the innocence of a child. A child that has no means to fight back, to speak up for itself, to be heard. A child who only wants to be loved, protected, to feel safe and secure. Brutal monsters that deserve the worst punishment that could be placed upon anyone. The weakness that must be inside them as a human to show such brutality to a child that cannot defend itself or fight back.

My heart is filled with love and sorrow for any child that is wronged by those that should be protecting them. I say this because as far as I’m concerned whether a child is yours or not we all have an obligation to love, protect and cherish every child born into this world. I sometimes wish that I could take in every child that needs it, or lock up any person that could potentially cause harm to a child. If only we had the ability to be able to pick them out; if only we could get rid of them before they have the chance to hurt a child. If only I knew with 100% certainty that without me or her daddy near her my daughter would be safe.

I know that there will be those out there that will say there are reasons why people do what they do to children. Listen you don’t need to tell me I did sociology and psychology at university. I’ve read all the theory and psychology on people that commit violent crimes against children. However none of that even registers on your brain once you have a child. All of a sudden every child is your child. I can’t even watch a baby cry on T.V anymore without the tears streaming down my eyes and that’s just make believe. My heart shatters into a million pieces when I hear or read real life stories of the things that are done to children.

My daughter is a spoilt, loved and fiercely protected little Madame. I only wish that every child had her life. That’s why if I’m out and I meet a child I try to make them smile or laugh. You never know if that’s the only kindness they’ve been shown that day. Every time you get the chance to cuddle a child, or show them kindness or make them laugh or stop it from crying or make a positive change in its life take it. The child may not be yours but surely a child can’t be shown too much kindness and love. As you read the horrific stories that are recorded daily let’s try and make a difference in as many children’s lives as we can.

After all children bring so much joy to our lives. The wonder that they have for the world around them, the way that small things make them happy and the strangest things keep them occupied. The pure innocence that is a child as they go about their day to day lives and look up at those they trust. They find curiosity in everyday life and laugh at….well anything. Not a bad bone lies within their little bodies. Only within the bodies of man does there lie evil and the ability to do harm to those that cannot protect and defend themselves.

My heart goes out to all the children that never got the chance to grow at the hands of those that shouldn’t be allowed to go on.

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Mine xx

Little Miss M has entered into a new phase of being a toddler the everything is mine phase. It seems to have happened suddenly, one minute her favourite word is “no, no, no, no, no,” now it’s MINE (said while she crosses her arms in front of her and twists her body for added emphasis.)

Over the course of the last few weeks I find it funnier and funnier what gets added to her ‘Mine’ list:

  • When I get handed the receipt for her Christmas toy’s lay-by – MINE – honestly you can have that one if you want, it saves me paying it off!
  • The tea towel daddy is using to wipe his hands on while having pizza – MINE! 
  • Mummy’s phone and iPad at the same time – MINE.
  • Mummy’s bowl of Nutrigrain, even though LMM has her own cereal – MOINE (she had a wee accent going on while saying that one!)
  • As I go to open up her sippy cup for her to drink out of – MINE.
  • All  her books on her bookshelf that she has thrown into a big pile in the middle of the room – MINE.
  • The puppy – MIIIIINNNNNEEEEE.
  • The slide at the park – MINE  as she puts her hand up to a little girl and tries to stop her from coming near the slide (apologies to the little girl ensue with an added “she’s just learning to share I’m sorry.”) – luckily the little girl nodded in acknowledgement sort of saying hey it’s ok I understand I’m a big girl now!
  • My lip glosses plastered all over her face while she tries to hide them from me  – MINE, MINE,  MINE, MINE, MINE….. She really didn’t want to give up those Lip glosses.

Obviously I’ve started to teach LMM not everything is hers and that she has to share, but I’m sorry underneath I’m smiling and I’m laughing because well quite frankly it’s cute , adorable and just so comical.

I can’t wait to see what she adds to her MINE  list next xx

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Monday Girl xx

I’m a Monday girl.

A Monday girl sounds a little something like this:

* As I stuff a Chocolate chip muffin into my mouth – “I really need to cut out junk food – I’ll start on Monday”
* As I force the last bit of chicken Vindaloo down my throat – “On Monday I really have to start making healthier food choices.”
* While sitting at the drive-through at McDonald’s – “Seriously this isn’t funny any more on Monday I really need to go on a diet”
* “Right that’s it on Monday I’m going to change my lifestyle start eating properly and exercise,” (this is said at the café down the street today while ordering a bacon and egg sandwich and a cup of tea) my friend that’s with me say’s “but it’s Monday today” – “well I know that but it seems silly to start tomorrow now!”

Or……

* As I sit on the couch with LMM watching frozen, eating a bag of Buttered Popcorn – “I’m going to start exercising on Monday”
* At 3am while on my laptop, after I’ve just complained to my partner how tired I am – “On Monday I’m going to start going to bed at a reasonable hour and stop staying up so late”
* I’m going to get my self super organised on Monday ready for the week ahead (ha, ha, ha)

On Monday is my mantra, I really need to change that……Maybe I’ll start on Monday!

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