Why a 'bathroom break' is a luxury, not a right...

30 In the olden days -- you know, before my name ceased to be "Nicole" and morphed into "muuuuuuum" I recall a friend telling me she was so busy with her baby she didn't get to go to the bathroom.

Say what?

I mean, a bathroom break takes an average of 32 seconds, right? Surely one could not be so entirely consumed with their baby that they could not take a brief interlude to go to the bathroom whenever the need struck.... could they?

And of course once I had a baby of my own I understood. Or I thought I did. But yesterday I got a reality check and realised I knew nothing about estimating the damage that can be done in the time it takes for one little bathroom-break.

Folks, yesterday I got punkd! By my own son!

I left my children in the general vicinity of the kitchen and was in the bathroom for no longer than 30 seconds. As I wandered out, my daughter was screaming "muuuum! Bubby's got the butter!"

YOU THINK?

why bathroom breaks are a luxury, not a right...

30 seconds, folks!

Sonny was 'doing his hair' with 'product'... which is fine except that I prefer to use it on my toast rather than as a styling tool... With no idea what to do first and butter spreading its way throughout my house I scraped scooped up said child and plonked him in the highchair.

You can see by the pictorial evidence above how excited sonny-boy was to be in the highchair at this point. But let me show you again :

Yep. You're seeing that, I'm sure.

But what you can't see is just how excited I was to be home alone in this situation. Super, super excited.  Especially because I had nothing else to do at the time..... natch.

After snapping a few shots as 'evidence' I rang husband to enquire as to his whereabouts. Saturday is a work day and I knew it would be borderline home-time. By some stroke of good fortune, husband was two minutes away. Which is just as well because sonny might well have spent the whole night in the highchair until I found backup.

Oh, this will be a story for the 21st.

And a valuable lesson has been learnt:

1. Never EVER leave sonny unattended for any reason. Ever. At all.
2. Never EVER leave any dairy product unattended for any reason. Ever. At all.
3. Never EVER go to the bathroom while sonny is awake without tethering him to the bedpost first. Ever. At all.

What valuable lesson have YOU learnt of late? Oh do share, how can I share all the 'fun' to myself?

Party Pooper

It's the weekend... you've been invited to a good friend's child's 2nd birthday party. It's in a smallish apartment, and you really don't know anyone else there apart from the host. There are other small children there too, of course. They are playing happily with the little plastic trikes and toys and their parents mingle comfortably with wine glasses in hand.

Your 18 month old son barrels into the scene and within minutes has tipped a bowl of crisps over the carpet, had a screaming temper fit on the floor and scratched a large gash in the face of a little toddler girl you have never before met because she was playing in the little car he decides he wants for himself.

Do you,

(a) Shout and scream at your toddler;
(b) Smack his bottom;
(c) Apologise profusely to host and parents and carry screaming toddler out of apartment for time out, or
(d) Do nothing?

I took the (c) option but it felt hollow. How do you explain to someone you have never met that your child really is a beautiful little boy with no intentional malice when they have just scratched a chunk out of their precious little girl's face?

The mother didn't say a word as I attempted an apology, just gave me a half glance and requested Detol from the host and my friend to attempt to repair the damage. Detol, like my child has rabies.

But I couldn't judge her. I know would have done the same. I would have been horrified if the shoe were on the other foot. And, before Elliott, when it was just Fern (who at three has never scratched anyone in her life), I would have cast immediate judgement at the parents of such a child for 'allowing' such inappropriate behaviour.

But now I am the parent of such a child. And I was mortified. Embarrassed. Horrified, actually. And, as a room full of people watched with interest to see my reaction to this spectacle I wanted to crawl into a hole and quite literally die.

Folks, I did not raise my children to be violent. I hate violence. I can't even watch a movie with any violence in it without leaving the room. I do believe in discipline, but I am at a loss for how to discipline an 18 month old child, and teach him that this behaviour is not appropriate. Elliott is an energetic, vivacious, otherwise adorable and loveable little person who - in social situations - does not understand the difference between right and wrong.

Any advice you can offer will be gratefully accepted; what do YOU do when your child behaves inappropriately in public? What do you do when your child smacks another child? And how do you deter such behaviour in the first instance? Please tell me I am not the only one who has had this experience and that it is not my dreadful parenting that has made my child this way?! xx

The next Cadel Evans and Anna Meares

Yesterday evening, the kids astounded me with their fearless abandon as they catapulted down the hill to the side of my house on their little plastic trikes (and hands-down my pick for the best $25 you can spend on a toy for your child). The result? Quite hilarious. I simply can't resist showing this little video with you... I laughed so hard I almost wet my pants. I hope you will too!

Happy hump day...

Happiness Is...

Happiness is... a slice of chocolate cake.

...its the simple things, folks. Im so glad I have my little Elliott to remind me of this. 

What is making YOU happy today?

Workin' 9-5!

Today, I packed two little lunch boxes and sent two little kiddies off to preschool. One of them, for the very first time. Yes, folks. little wee Elliott Daniel has been sent to school where (hopefully) the teachers will sort him out!

Kidding. Sort of :)

I won't lie... I needed backup in the drop-off process and dragged my husband along for moral support... I cried more than one tear I must confess. The idea of sending one's baby off to school and the actual PRACTICE are two very different things. My littlest child has never been minded by anyone other than family and then pretty rarely. It breaks my heart just a little bit to have condemned him to a day inside a room with a bunch of other kids he's never met, a strange bed and hours and hours without his (sniff) mummy.

But maybe

hopefully

he'll love it.

Fern does, and barely says goodbye before she skips off to play with the boys. hmmmm. But of course Elliott is not Fern.

I've been putting this off and pretending I can work with the kids at home. But I can't, really. And so it was time. Because mummy. needs. a. work. day.

So now (for the first time in three years) I get a whole day, seven precious hours in which to ensconce myself in my little studio.

A WORK day, peeps.

I feel like I need a whole new corporate wardrobe! Heels! Lipstick!

I've settled for a pair of shorts, a tank, my havaianas and a swipe of lipgloss. But that'll do!

Am I allowed out for a lunch break?

my darling boy on his first day of preschool.... I whipped him up that linen bag you see on the ground last night using a pillow case and some scraps of fabric!

ps. Much thanks for the advice to yesterday's article . Some great tips I'll be trying out - thank you thank you! xxx

How do you solve a problem like Maria?

Newsflash!

Boys are different from girls!

Well, what-do-ya know...

You all know I have a pigeon pair: One golden-haired, blue-eyed just-turned-three year old princess two weeks out of the terrible-twos (progress: we've only had 2370 tantrums this last fortnight, aren't the three's so much more pleasant!) and a sandy-haired, greeny-brown eyed sonny boy who is a year and a halfish now and - well - a species unto himself.

Folks, it's sonny-boy I want to talk about today. And, if you have a sonny-boy, I need your help. Your advice. And.... perhaps your shoulder?

Oh, I love the boy. Love 'im to bits. Would leap in front of a bus for him...

But sonny-boy is a climber. An adventurer. A discoverer. He likes to be dirty. Smelly. Wet. He likes to eat... and eat. And eat some more. He's Curious George, he is. A cat with 9 lives. Like most boys, I can only imagine.

All this I can handle.

What I can't handle is coming out in the morning, to find my 17 month-old son sitting up on top of the kitchen bench with a packet of popcorn kernels in his paw, flinging them wildly about with joyous abandon. Have you any idea just how far a packet of popcorn kernels can spread throughout your house?

At every opportunity, my son climbs up on the kitchen table. He then makes his way across and pulls himself onto the kitchen bench when he can reap unfathomable havoc.

But no sooner have I dragged out the (overflowing) Dyson to vacuum up popcorn than I turn around to find my son with the box of Rice Bubbles. If you can imagine what a packet of popcorn looks like on your floor... can you also imagine a family-pack of Rice Bubbles?

How do you discipline such a child? At 16 months, he certainly doesn't understand the concept of a 'naughty corner'. That would involve sitting still. Saying a firm 'no' just gets me a cheeky smile before he goes right back to whatever it is he is doing. A smack on the posterior earns me a laugh. The kid LAUGHS at me for smacking his bottom! So what do you do??

These days, I must be merticulous about closing the door to the bathroom. But my son waits for my daughter to climb up on the toddler-seat and if I'm out of earshot, heaven help me. It is not unusual for me to come in from hanging out the washing or some such, to hear the sounds of splashing coming from the toilet. My son can be found brandishing the toilet-brush like a sword, stabbing it with wilful abandon into the toilet. Or worse, dipping his hands into the toilet like its his own personal swimming pool. More often than not, I find an entire roll of toilet paper, soggy and unravelled all over the floor. And if Fern has not quite managed to - ahem - flush her business down the loo, the outcome can be catastrophic. On one particular occasion, the damage caused by hurricane Elliott in the toilet was so widespread and intimidating, I got stuck in the shower for three quarters of an hour with both kids, praying my husband would return home from work to rescue us. It took two adults to clean up on that particular occasion, and its not an isolated incident.

My son also takes a penchant to the garbage bin. He likes to play with the contents he finds inside. Use it as his own personal pantry if he has a rumbly tummy.

My son likes to eat dog biscuits.

It can take two adults just to change one nappy.

He will not watch the telly. Or read a book. Or play with toys for longer than 5 seconds. How do you therefore entertain such a child?

Help, peeps! I need your taming-tips. What do you do with a jumping-jellybean with more energy than a firework and the ability to scale tall buildings in a single bound?

Here's an hour in the life of me with my son. Needless to say, I rarely have the opportunity to get bored. I swear, this path of destruction all occurred in the space of one hour (yes, I keep liquor in the bottom cupboard. Yes, in 17 years I'll be asking for trouble):

SOS!!

Look Who's Walking Now?

So... last week I believe I may have voiced my concern re: boy-o's wanton ambivalence toward the practice of getting about on two, rather than four limbs. And I really was concerned.

Turns out I needn't have been.

Yesterday, my son stood up and took five steps.

No fanfare. No fuss. Like he's been doing it all along. And perhaps -- just like that character Andy in Little Britain - you know, the one meant to be a quadriplegic in a wheelchair, who can leap out and swim the English channel when his carer's back is turned... perhaps my son has been practicing when my back is turned, secretly laughing behind his grubby little hand all the while I carry him about when he should.have.been.walking.

No matter.

Boy-o is officially on the move.

And about time, too!

 xx

He who will not walk.

"Boy-o does not walk.

Well, to be fair he does, but only if he's holding onto something. Like my finger. Or the furniture.

But most of the time, he's content to crawl.

And the irony is not lost on me that at six months, I was bragging my head off to anyone who would listen (including you -- sorry, folks!) that my son would be walking within weeks! At six months, my son was crawling. Standing before seven months.

Surely - surely walking would be the next logical step?

It appears not.

Boy-o, as it turns out, is an incredibly efficient crawler. He's fast. I (who was once the Nunawading Little Athletics under-sevens champion - I'm just saying) once got down and raced him just to see how good he really is. He beat me to the line with no sweat at all.


Fast.

Worriedly, I asked a doctor as his 12-month weigh-in (disguised as an immunisation) whether it was normal not to be walking. My daughter-o didn't crawl til 9 months and even SHE was walking by 13 months.

The Doctor smiled indulgently and told me no, there was nothing wrong with his legs and no, I probably didn't need intervention. Yet.

When Elliott was 10 months old I went to get a skin-cancer check (gotta be careful!) and something the nurse said has stuck with me.

Upon witnessing my son tear his way across the surgery on his hands and knees in half a second flat to grab the scalpel placed seemingly out of his chubby-baby-pawed-reach, she said "you know, I bet your little boy will be a late walker".

"Why do you say that?" I said.

"Because look how good he is at crawling", she said. "He has no need to walk."

And at the time, I took little stock.

But now, Im sitting up and taking notice. Because unfortunately there seems to be little Elliott can't do that he could do if he was walking: He climbs up and down stairs and onto the lounge and our bed and can get out of the bath if he desires. He can make his way out of the house and up the stairs and over the grass and into the cubby before I even notice he's missing!

No folks, my son has decided he has no desire or need to walk.

And so he doesn't.

Why should he? He knows if he stands holding onto my knees screaming up at me he'll get picked up... sooner or later. Little bugger. And crawling is so easy to him. Walking is scary apparently -- and he hasn't quite worked out that you can bend your legs when you take steps. He prefers to walk stiff as a board with one paw wrapped firmly around your finger for support. I mean, how much support can you get from one finger?! But the second you let that finger, BAM! He hits the deck in a panic.

At what point should I be worried? He's only 14 months now, but will my son be crawling into University lectures if I don't intervene... ?

I'd love your own experiences on this -- when did your child walk and were you worried about it? Am I going to be laughing at myself worrying about this in 3 months time?!!? Do share! xx

Elliott and Dan. Not walking. Not a problem!

A 1st Birthday 'Teddy Bear's Picnic!'

A few weeks ago, my darling, honeycomb-breathed, sometimes-cranky-pants son turned one. And what better a way to celebrate... than with a Teddy Bear's Picnic? My son Elliott was given a flat-out bear the day he was born which lay inside his capsule with him in the hospital and then in his cot when we came home thereafter. It has been in his arms ever since. I've talked about these miracle bears before, here and here but really they are worth their weight in gold. Or have been for us, anyway. And so. A tribute to Elli-Boo's love for his teddy it was!

then...

... and now

We held it up at Dan's parents' property because they could clean up afterward it is huge, beautiful, filled with flowers and animals and is altogether the perfect place for mums and dads to relax in the knowledge their children could run madly-about filled with cake and not do any damage!

Everyone was to bring a teddy-bear... of course! I wanted a picture of all the kids nestled on the picnic blankets holding their teddies but um, what was I thinking?! Good luck with that!

my dad...

We held the entire party outside which could have gone either way - but fortunately we were blessed with fine weather! Instead of running back and forth to the oven, we bought a big pile of pizza bases from a supplier and used an outdoor pizza oven to feed the masses. Worked a treat except that my poor mother in law and husband were stuck in front of a pizza oven all afternoon!

There were other party treats, of course...

Prior to the party, I whipped up an outdoor kids teepee and stuck it out in the middle of the grass with picnic blankets, a vintage cane pram, some cushions and lots of teddy bears, of course! There was also a $12 catarpillar tunnel which of course was a complete hit -- much more so than the tent I laboured over for days!!

The birthday boy
Before the party, I made Elliott a little "Scrabble tile" tee that read "Elliott Daniel is One" (forgot to get a good pic of this, oooops.) I also made matching father-son teddy-bear bow ties! Unfortunately, the birthday boy was a little out of sorts and was not up for family portraiture... this is the best I've got that can show you his costume!

Some of The little stuff
Just because clearly I had too much time on my hands, I bought some wooden teddy bear shapes I found in Spotlight for a few $$, attached some bamboo skewers and painted them with chalkboard paint. I then stuck them in paper cups and drew little messages for the kids on them for the party...

The kids loved the 'decorate a cupcake' stand...

I stuck some little yellow teddy puffy-bits I found at a craft store on some party hats...

Wondering what to do with all those 'monthly pic' pics you take? Well, I had mine all printed out and then laminated them, stringing them up like bunting at the party!

I hired a face-painter just for the fun of it... Elliott got a little teddy-bear drawn on his cheek but it only lasted about 5 minutes... oh well.

I bought some brown noodle-boxes and filled them with tiny-teddies biscuits (of course!), a few lollies and a couple of gimmicky-toys... ran out of inspiration (and time!) on the party boxes, folks! I printed a picture of Elliott and stuck it onto the front then tied the boxes with red grosgrain ribbon...

The cake
I had our friends from Bremen Patisserie make a large, flat teddy bear out of cake to look like Elli's flat-out bear. I think they did a really good job! On it, I added a string of cake-bunting I made and handstamped with Elliott's name from a tutorial I found here. I also made some 3D chocolate teddy bears, which you can just make out in front of the cake and which didn't quite pan out -- mine didn't quite look like the ones I saw on Etsy when I bought the instructions! Still, I added them and tied some red ribbon around their necks... surprisingly, the kids loved them and gobbled them up before I had a chance to tell them that fondant does not taste quite as good as it looks! The cake was yum. Well, that's the word on the street, anyhow. My son liked it, clearly. As did the other kids. But after the party, the family border-collie thought she would have a go, too and made short work of what was left! Doh...

elli and Auntie Louise, who flew in from Brisbane just to surprise me. And I was surprised!

Some random beautiful images that captured the day:

I hope you enjoyed Elliott's first birthday party..... x