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I am currently on hold with centrelink with an estimated wait time more than 30 mins according to the robot lady that runs the place. So I think to myself what can I get done in that time?

I have already watched an episode of franklin (yes the baby is napping, so I forgot to change the channels, there is nothing wrong with kids shows, yeah ok maybe you have a point). Now I’m going to attempt to do something productive. Well sort of, blogging isn’t really classified as something productive in this house.

Speaking of unproductive, I was thinking (on the loo, as you do) about all the excuses people use to get out of things. I even tried to use an excuse for not actually making the call to centrelink (ps. I love me some Mozart as I blog. Could they not link to a radio station?), my excuse was I was napping. Except then I realized that 10.30 am is a bit early to nap, so I got up off my butt and made the call.

Back to the excuses. Day off work? Get out of meeting someone? Avoid time with parents? Reasons to say no to the ugly guy? Ways to sound less lame if the thing your trying to get out of is way cool, like sky diving or holidaying in thailand or eating donuts. We’ve all used them, no one can say they haven’t made up a white lie at lease once in their life. (Hold music is still playing on my phone through the speaker).

Get out of work with out question excuses:

  • gastro – classic, spewing or pooing no one wants to know
  • migraine – everyone knows they screw up your whole body and the day before line of ‘oh I think I feel a migraine coming on- boom, day off.
  • hurt my foot, ankle, leg, arm whilst playing (insert sport here) – bit harder depending on where you work, but throw in a ‘I’ve got an appointment with the physio today because last time I hurt it I was off work for weeks’ and your boss will be so grateful that it wasn’t serious he will forget that you had to take a day off.

More ways to get out of things instead of saying ‘I don’t want to’ or ‘I can’t afford it’ or other less cool things:

  • sorry (hang on I think the baby just woke up…      … false alarm) I have a rent inspection that day
  • the car is getting serviced, I’ve got no transport
  • the plane has been delayed
  • the baby is sick
  • I’m waiting on a (insert tradesman here) to come but you know what they are like, always running late.

Reasons for running late:

  • traffic was attrocious
  • its the babies fault
  • its aidans fault (not my excuse clearly)
  • had to get fuel (not watch the last 10 mins of days of our lives- DONT JUDGE)
  • we stopped to help someone that had broken down
  • I was on hold to freaking centrelink for a gazillion hours (31.49 mins now….)
  • didn’t get much sleep last night because the baby is teething
  • I forgot (insert something vital to running of your day)
  • I got the call up for big brother, but I had to turn it down because the last season was sooooooooo crap
  • my good friend Oprah called with an emergency, I couldn’t let her choose her favorite things in that state
  • I was grooming my pet poodle for the dog show tomorrow night. hes in the running for first place you know
  • I had to watch the extremely long bat man movie, just so I could find out how long I can hold off going to the loo for
  • I got stuck singing ‘the song that never ends’ to the baby
  • I had to tweet Kim Kardashian about the fact that she got pregnant before Klhoe. I mean, HOW RUDE!
  • I was instagramming the 17 meals I made with Jamie Oliver and just lost track of time

So we are at 38 mins now…… The baby is due to wake up any minute, and of course I have tried to get this done while she was asleep so she doesn’t get all cranky because I’m on the phone and she’s not allowed to touch it. She has just reached the age of ‘I’m not eating that, I want what you have in your hand, dont even try and make me eat it, I’ll scream the house down, no the water wont distract me….’.

Crap she just woke up

CRAP THEY PICKED UP!

After 39.48 mins. It took me precisely 2.24 mins to ask my question and then I was done.

Crap, better get the baby.

Much love peeps xxx

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Ughhhhhhhhh

I was super proud when we weaned tiny human back at 7/8 months. Before we had kids I had already formulated the opinion that dummies weren’t a necessity. Flash forward to tiny human at day three of life in our atmosphere, one tired mamma and one not sleeping baby fighting each other to not be the first to cry. The loveliest nurse points out that she’s a sucker. Her velociraptor tendencies had made nursing painful and I had to pump. Poor thing just wanted the comfort (well then, don’t go for meat on your first meal crazy babe). So we tried the dummy. It was a god send. And I hate myself for thinking otherwise back when I was with out child.

Indi only needed her dummy to get herself to sleep. She didn’t need it to calm down or for teething. I could pop that dummy in her mouth and she would drop her head to my shoulder and be ready for bed. When we got back from our holiday to bali we knew it was time. She was still a chilled out little babe, and we wanted to wean her before she became attached to it. And we did, with relatively no hassle at all. We were shocked at the ease of it all.

Then came the teeth. You all know I’m not a fan of the teething devil (evil little snot it is). We had months of teething symptoms with no signs of movement on the teeth front. Then bang! At she reached nine months and started screaming in her sleep. She was restless and nothing could soothe her. She was starting to walk so we were allowing for some lack of sleep. Its understandable that babes are restless when they are starting to develop. But this was so out of character. So we tried the dummy, thinking just once cant hurt. Automatic relief for tiny human. It is so hard to deny your little ones the things that gives them comfort, when you see the pain fade and they physically relax. You just want to help, so you give in. And give in we did.

Now at 10 months she has 5 teeth and looks like two more are on their way. It seems the dummy was needed for a reason. She will chew on the dummy for about 10 mins, then shes out to it. For the night. Most of the time I find it on the floor, thrown out of the cot at some stage through out the night.

Friday night we decided it was time to wean again. Stupidest idea ever. The kid is now attached. Saturday night she was cranky and grizzling and crying on and off for an hour. We would go in and calm her down, settle her if we could them try to put her down again. She would just work herself up and cry again. That is until she threw up. BAD MAMMA! Yeah, so if the fact that there is food stains all over the baby, her sleeping bag, her pajamas and the white (who buys white for babies anyway) sheets was not bad enough, the guilt of being the reason she puked certainly made me mother of the year material. I automatically caved. I got upset, made a giant fuss, cuddled and rocked and consoled (perhaps someone should have done that to me?). I snuggled with her on the couch, gave her the dummy then put her back in her bed to sleep. If you were wondering – everything in that last sentence is wrong according to the research.

So here we are are the starting point again. This time equip with a bit more research and preparing for the worlds biggest shit storm (Oh didn’t I tell you? Indi can chuck tanties now. When she cranks up you sure as hell know about it). I don’t know if we will be strong enough to tackle this over christmas, give me strength if we do. But before she turns 1 on the 10th of February, as the spaghetti monster as my witness I will have her weaned (unless another 5 teeth decide they want to all come out at the same time, then in that case I’ll just give her a handful of dummies, leave her with aidan and book myself a trip to bali for three weeks). Wish us luck.

Much love peeps xxx

I sometimes go overboard on my gift giving. By sometimes I mean always. I love buying presents for all the people I love, and even some of the people I don’t love so much. I just love picking a fabulous present, going overboard on the wrapping and then forcing them to open in front of me so that I can see their reaction. Perhaps I’ve lost the real ‘Christmas spirit’ but its these things that make Christmas special to me.

This year we have a baby, and we are saving for a house. So crazy Cassie and her Christmas spending need to be boxed away for future Christmas’s to come, and the new smart thinking, money savvy Cassie is replacing her for a while (just FYI money savvy is a new feature, there is still a few kinks on that one).

After a year of attempting crafting projects with a success rate that is relatively higher than the failure rate, I have decided to try a ‘do it yourself’ approach to gift giving. While you might be impressed at my statement, I promise you its not all roses and lollipops. Its quite the opposite.

If you can imagine a craft room, with shelves of bits and bobs spread about, a sewing machine surrounded by bright fabrics, and a bench top with assorted glues and ribbons, then there is no way your anywhere near what I’m working with. So far I have attempted working on the dining table (next to indi’s food spread everywhere), on the kitchen bench (near shopping and mail and fruit bowls and dishes), in the sun room on an outdoor couch (coated in cat hair), on the bricks in the back courtyard (with every single ant in Perth at the time) and on the lounge room floor (in order to watch tv as I was working). The whole DIY thing for presents is fine if its just one or two things that you need to make, but I may or may not have about 8 craft projects on the go. I intend to craft some frugal Christmas spirit for each one of my presents this year. It.is.killing.me.

A normal present, you chose it, you buy it, you wrap it, you give it. Dumb arse here hasn’t chosen craft projects that are simple – no that would be too easy. It took me about two weeks to chase around to all the right stores to find all the bits and bobs I needed to even start. Stupid? Yep, I’m certainly don’t have the smarts on this one.

I will show off all my hard work once the gifts have been received. I’m actually a little proud of what we’ve been doing. Most of them have been inspired by Pinterest. If I hadn’t found that incredibly addictive website I’m pretty sure I’d have brought all my presents online, they would be wrapped by now and all my spare time would be spent watching tv and drinking wine. Unfortunately that is not the case. Its ok wine, I miss you too.

If your doing a ‘DIY’ Christmas I am sending you lots of love and calming crafty vibes.

Much love peeps xxx

 

 

Life has started to really catch me off guard in the last couple of years. I think perhaps I’ve been living in my own bubble. All the bad stuff happened to other people, it would feel like I watching the world ‘flow’ from inside my bubble. It protected me and the people around me.

But my bubble popped. And the bad stuff infiltrated. Life and shit really happens.

Sunday morning was the most recent bubble pop.

I woke from the first uninterrupted sleep in over three weeks. I even said that to Aidan before he got up. I began to drift back off to sleep as he went to wake the baby up (she’s a morning sleeper, and I’m damn proud of it). Then came the pop. Shock coating his voice, Aidan announces our car has been stolen. From our driveway.

I don’t even remember how I got to the door, I just know my heart was in my throat. The back sliding door was wide open. They had been in the house. THEY HAD BEEN IN MY HOUSE. Shit, the baby, THE BABY. She hadn’t made a sound all night, SHIT. I burst in to her room. Poor Indi was not impressed. She momentarily turned into a thirteen year old. She glared at me, grizzled and then rolled her head into the mattress to avoid the light getting into her eyes. Phewwwww. Thank goodness she was ok.

But my car. The car we’d only had for 3 and a half months. With the car seat and the pram in it. The car that we searched for months to find. It was gone. And they had been inside. Every time I thought about it I felt sick. Sick to my stomach. I wanted to run away from the house. Either run or clean. But I couldn’t, no car meant no way of leaving and the police had to go through the house before I could clean. I just felt sick.

For one whole day I kept watch at the window hoping my car would miraculously drive itself back home. I would scan car parks and I even did a drive by around my neighborhood. My heart did not slow down at all. I wore a layer of dread for 12 long hours (I also wore my pj’s for that length of time too, hey! don’t judge me, my car was stolen).

The police didn’t come. We waited all day, with the back door open, with that constant sick feeling. Until we got a call saying our car had been found. No notable damage and all the baby stuff was still there. We started breathing again.

There’s still stuff that needs to be sorted and we wont get the car back for a day or so. I will not drive that car until its been detailed and checked over. It needs to be shiny and new, then I might consider taking Indi out in it. We are still slightly bitter, but the anger has subsided and for now the relief is enough.

Biggest lesson from this? Be prepared for your bubble to pop. Life has an ace card and it gets played when you least expect it. Oh, and make sure you always have hard liquor in the house. When some dickhead steals your car for a joy ride, you will need it.

Lock up and stay safe. Much love peeps xxx

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