When tiny human hurts herself she gets more upset that she has to stop what she was doing than for fact that she is in pain.
Nappy change time is now known as ‘rollover and run away butt naked, make mum chase me around with a nappy, stand up on something dangerous to give mum a chance to put nappy on, drop to the ground to show her that I’m in charge, crawl over to something else, stand again, let mum do up one side of the nappy, attempt to get away, do a double pike with a twist landing in a arabesque position, allow mum to finish putting the nappy on’ time.
The mail man, the garbage man, the delivery man – pretty much anyone who comes to visit that we don’t know ALWAYS comes when the baby is asleep and ALWAYS makes a racket. Despite the fact that I know nothing could wake Indi up if she’s already asleep, I find myself getting super pissed and threatening to beat the crap out of the the noisey bastards.
I want chocolate cake, for breakfast, everyday.
I think there is a ghost in our house. Indi always seems to be distracted by something that isn’t actually there. But this ghost must be hilarious, because she looses it giggling (which actually sounds more life a snuffly puppy at times). I think it might be my dad. I’d like that.
I hate curbside pick up. I’m pretty sure its the reason some butt hole broke into my house and stole my car. Curbside pick up gives a bunch of people from god knows where a reason to hang out in your neighborhood after dark. Now I’m not judging those who ‘vintage shop’ from the curbside. I think up-cycling somebodies pre loved goods is the best form of recycling. I have scored some sweet pieces from the verge boutique. I am just unlucky enough to be living close to a few wanky areas in Perth. Fancy area means fancy goods, fancy goods means more traffic, more traffic means increased chance of not so fabulous people hanging outside my house. Thankfully it will be gone soon. And then, I can sleep soundly.
White is officially not in season for 8 1/2 month olds. Watermelon, strawberry, spaghetti bog, casserole, sweet potato, stewed apples, blueberries, pumpkin – pretty much all foods have the ability to tie dye the shit out of a perfectly clean white onesie. Napisan is a house essential on a meal to meal basis.
I am ocd when it comes to toys. They need to be in a particular area in the lounge room. If indi pulls her books down, I’m more than happy to put the books back on the shelf. If she rips a magazine into pieces, I’ll put those pieces in the bin straight away. I like all the baby stuff in the car to be in its place. Its this staying at home business it makes me crazy neat freak.
Having not worked in a year, I’m shitting myself about going back to work. Shitting myself about making a call about going back to work. Terrified of being shit at what I considered myself to be bloody good at. Finding child care, organizing times, finding a balance, missing out on milestones, allowing someone else to get to know my baby, being behind on curriculum advances, new routines, making the sacrifices – its all freaking me out. How do mums do this? I need a pep talk people.
Is there anything more fabulous than fresh sheets?
It has been 11 months with out my Dad. My chest hurts just typing that.
Aidan is currently completing his final electrical exam. He started his apprenticeship when I completed my degree. Pretty dang proud of the boy. Only one more day.
Thats my brain. Sorry its boring as hell.
Much love peeps xxx