Adventures at Knee-High

: barefoot_mummy; May 25th, 9:58

So here I am, tippity-tappity typing away on my brand-new iPad, because some people are awesome. Thankyou, awesome people.

Yesterday, something monumental happened. Did you notice? Did you feel it - something different in the air, perhaps? No?

Okay, I'll give you a hint. Two days ago, I was in my twenties. Today, I'm not.

Any ideas?

So maybe the sun didn't stand still in the sky (maybe it didn't even really bother to make an appearance); maybe a thousand doves didn't soar across the land in the shape of a "30"; maybe there were no amazing clusters of shooting stars lighting up the night sky. But still. I had a nice day with my sweet little family, relaxing and enjoying the well-wishes of an online community of family and friends. And - apart from the moment when I realised that until August I'm a thirty-year-old married to a guy in his mid-twenties, and that was more of a "huh, fancy that" moment than an "eeeeekkk!" moment - I felt good about turning thirty.

Certainly, I still feel like a teenager a little bit. Though I'm playing rollerhockey tomorrow for the first time in twelve years, so maybe then I won't feel quite so young... But I'm still only just getting over the feeling that I'm just playing house, playing "mummies and daddies" with real children. Wanna know a secret? This parenting thing... I'm totally making it up as I go along. (Shhh, don't tell - the People Who Know How To Raise Children Properly will come for me!)

I can still vividly remember being fourteen, and thinking twenty was so grown-up. And thirty? Well, that wasn't even on my radar. If I'd ever stopped to think about thirty, I would have assumed thirty-year-olds all knew exactly what they were doing, all the time. They'd have all the answers; no self-doubt, no insecurities. No making it up as they went along.

Tricksters.

Those people who were thirty when I was fourteen are now forty-six. Maybe they've got all the answers now? I'm guessing probably not. But I'm guessing they're closer to it; just like I'm closer to it now than I was when I was fourteen. I know who I am - still surprise myself fairly often, but it's all becoming clearer. And the answers? I don't have all of them, but I have a lot more than I did. And the ones I don't have, I don't miss - turns out growing up isn't about learning all the answers; it's about learning to be comfortable with making it up as you go along.

I can do that. I've had a whole lot of practice already; guess that's what I've been busy doing between fourteen and thirty. All this experience I've been accruing hasn't given me the answers, but it's made me better at figuring out my own conclusions and wearing them with confidence.

So, I'm not doing the getting-older freakout. I'm embracing this. Hello, thirties. It's nice to meet you. I think we're going to do great things together.

Let's face it : Whatever your age... the best is yet to come.

I Love Taking My Kids to the Supermarket. No, Really.

: barefoot_mummy; May 23rd, 1:30

Just watched this mum talking about supermarket shopping with little kids. She claims to not have tips, but "theories"... her main "theory" is: don't.

I beg to differ. That's all.

I've always shopped with my kids. I can count on one hand the number of times I've done a full weekly grocery shop without a child since Ellie was born. And, 96 times out of 100, I enjoy it. By avoiding taking her small child grocery shopping, a mum misses out on a huge opportunity to teach and bond with her toddler - and the toddler misses out on a huge opportunity to bond with, and learn from, his or her mum.

I'm not qualified to say any of this with any kind of authority. All the experience I have in the world comes from my own two children; I mostly find it pretty easy, and I don't know how much of that is me (in teaching them how to behave, and in the attitude I have of enjoying rather than stressing), or how much of it is them (being mostly good, mostly easygoing kids). Maybe I've been doing something right; maybe I've just been super lucky. I don't have some amazing secret that will revolutionise the shopping-with-kids experiences of mums everywhere. I just have some things that have worked for us.

Which, of course, I'll share.

1. Set yourself up for success.

Don't go when the kids are hungry, or tired, or already grumpy from other battles. This rules out large portions of the day, I know. I used to shop in the afternoons when I just had Ellie - she was freshly up and dressed after a nap, ready to face the rest of the day, grazing on a late lunch in the trolley while I shopped. It worked, except for the whole thing of every other mum and her kids dropping in at that time after the school pick-up. Oh, and I wasn't a huge fan of getting home weary, just in time to start the dinner-making rush.

With a toddler and a baby, I've found our optimum supermarket time is first thing on a Monday morning. I set myself the goal of being at the shops by 10am, with bonus points if we're out of the house by 9:30am. As I've discussed in previous posts, I prepare as much as I can the night before - breakfast things, nappy bag, snacks, muzzles...

I take snacks. Looking at all that food makes me hungry - of course it's going to do the same for a toddler. I'm not giving her a constant stream of snacks to keep her quiet - but if she asks, I've got something on hand. It's only fair.

And for goodness' sake, shop from a list. I grabbed one of those lists supermarkets have that show the order everything is set out in their store, and I used that to set out a master list - it's got everything I might need to buy, listed in order of appearance through the shop, divided into sections (fruit & veg, deli counter, meat, dairy, shelves, baby stuff, laundry, frozen, etc) - so when we get there, I just work my way through the list in order.

Because here's the thing: I find that the less I have to think about grocery shopping while I'm grocery shopping, the more I enjoy having my kids with me while I'm grocery shopping. So, I do my thinking in advance. Meal plans, ordered shopping lists, and all.

2. Enter in a positive mood - manufacture one, if you must.

Seriously, do yourself a favour - don't take your kids into the supermarket if you're already feeling frazzled. Take a minute to rally the troops. Make full use of handy kids' ride-on things, babychino sellers, petshop window puppies, and other such moment-of-peace inducing goodies near the supermarket entrance. It doesn't have to involve some kind of elaborate treat, or even the spending of any money at all, but you do want to get your kids into the best possible mood. Be fun with them. If they've been good for the last four seconds, praise them for it. Stay positive - you're encouraging a positive frame of mind and reinforcing good behaviour. Don't be tempted to give them a pep talk involving a list of all the things they're not to do in there, because (a) you're setting up self-fulfilling low expectations, and (b) you're giving them ideas. Cut it out. They just need to go in focusing on how much Mummy loves it when they're good. And how awesome it is to be spending this time with Mummy.

And don't forget to mentally prepare yourself.

I will not heed the disapproving glances of strangers when my child randomly screams. They do not know my child, they do not know how I'm parenting my child, and their opinion makes no difference to my life. They will move on and be unaffected by this moment; I should do the same.
I will not freak out if my child touches something on a shelf. If a supermarket puts things on shelves within reach of small children, small children will touch those things. The supermarket people surely know this. And meanwhile, my child is exploring and learning about their world.

I will not see this shopping trip as a job I need to get done, but as an expedition we're going on together. I will remember that it is a valuable opportunity to spend time with my children in a unique setting. I will pause to talk to my child when my child wants my attention. I will enjoy my child's company. My child will be good company, and I will laugh aloud when he/she is funny.

You can do it.

3. Share the load, Mr Frodo.

Start in a section your kids might care about. Fruit and veg works for us, because I have a small grocer-in-the-making tagging along. "Ellie, can you find the bananas? Where might they be?" She's a champ when she finds them, it's an easy first task to have some success with, and she starts to wonder what other wonderful delights we might come across on our travels.

Do yourself a favour, though - if you're going to be buying something your child really loves, but you won't be getting to it for a few aisles yet... don't mention it until you're nearly there. Trust me on this. Many's the time, mid-supermarket, when I've started a sentence to Ellie with: "Seriously, if I hear you say 'pony lollies' one more time..."

4. Have a system for dealing with temptations.

I never avoid the confectionary aisle. I never avoid the toy section - in fact, we pause there to browse, just for fun. And then we move on. Because:

"Those things aren't for us." She seems to accept this way more easily than I would ever have expected.

When we're moving away from the toys, or some other area she's particularly interested in, I give her a few moments to prepare before I ask her to come. "Ellie, we're going to keep going really soon, so just get ready." Then, "Okay Ellie, let's go," while already beginning to move off - I find that if I assume she's going to come with me, more often than not she will.

Also, I don't hide from Ellie the fact that I'm getting bananas, or twiggy sticks, or "magic cheese", or any of the other things I think she might start asking for immediately. She does often ask for one of these if she sees it go into the trolley, but it's fine - I have a response that works beautifully, even if I do have to repeat it a few times. Here, say it with me:

"We have to take it to the lady first."

Magic words. She knows she can have a sample, but not yet. I try to be consistent in letting her have a bit of whatever it was after we've paid and walked away from the checkout - it's a treat for being good, sure, but also it's reinforcing the "take it to the lady" message for next time. It works. She hears those words, and until she forgets (because she's 2), she's cool with it.

In fact, knowing she has one of these things coming can help her handle us not getting something else that may have caught her eye. She wants those chips? "But Ellie, you're going to have that banana after we've been to the lady, so you don't need chips." Oh yeah.

5. Notice how fantastic your child can be.

Grocery shopping is a huge opportunity for your child to do wrong. It's also a huge opportunity for them to do right. Notice it. Appreciate it. Love them for it. And let them know.

Sometimes, when we're walking along an aisle, Ellie will say to me, "Mummy, I need to run." And she does need to - it's like a compulsion. You can see it in her. So, as long as it's a reasonably deserted aisle, I say, "Okay, but stop when I tell you to, okay?"

(Questions like that, I expect a "Yes, Mummy," or some similar acknowledgement, before she can move off - just so I know she heard, and she knows she's accountable.)

And she does. Off she dashes, little arms pumping, until she hears, "Ellie... STOP!" Kid's a champ.

Oh, and she's funny. I love getting a twin trolley so she can sit next to Owen and entertain me. My favourite supermarket conversation recently went like this...
Ellie: "Oh, we need those chips."
Me: "Um, I don't think we do, actually."
Ellie: "Sometimes chips are nice for children."
Me: "Know what else is nice for children? Sitting quietly in the trolley and not asking for things."
Ellie: [throws her head back and laughs maniacally] "Oh, that made me laugh!"
Yes. Indeed.

But I also love letting her use her legs. She counts things, and lines things up, and turns things so the labels are at the front, and puts things back in the right spot if they've fallen. If I remember to just relax and let her do her thing, she moves on quite happily, soon enough. If I nag her to hurry up, and let myself start getting stressed, of course she's going to dawdle even more. Like I said: she's 2.

Once, when Ellie was a fair bit littler, I watched her move the number cards along a shelf in the fruit and veg section: a few seconds' work, and watermelons went from $0.69 a kilo to $69 a kilo. I could have worried. I could have told her off. What did I do? Had a giggle and moved casually away. Because come on, that's funny! And besides, if anyone sees watermelon on offer for $69 a kilo and actually believes it to be the correct price... they don't deserve watermelon. So there.

6. The Home Straight, or, Taking It To The Lady.

Job done, right? You've braved the supermarket with your children. You've gone in prepared, both practically and psychologically. You've encouraged them to share in the experience. You've met their social, intellectual and nutritional needs. You've gone through your systematic list, and you've got everything you came for.

Ten points.

Now, for fifty bonus points... survive the checkout.

Here are some things kids love:

waiting.
being next to a huge rack of treats that they're not allowed to have (I mean, "that aren't for them").
being spoken to by over-friendly strangers.
waiting again, while Mum is busy handling all the things they've been wanting for the past half hour.

No, wait... not "love". The other thing.

So, fair enough, checkout time isn't heaps fun. But here are some more dot points, because I've just recently figured out how to do them. These ones are for you - insert them into your brain, replacing your pre-existing thoughts about taking kids through checkouts:

Do not ignore your kids, or get snappy - do not put yourself under pressure to hurry up. You are allowed to be slower than the person behind you would like you to be. Maybe they've had kids, in which case they get it. Maybe they'll have kids one day, in which case they'll get it and feel bad about all the times they judged people like you. Maybe they'll never get it. Who cares? If they're in such a hurry that they can't handle you taking as long as you need to take, they can move to another checkout. Or abandon their shopping and run away. Or whatever. Do not assume they are annoyed - and if they obviously are annoyed, just roll your eyes right back at them and continue with what you're doing. Like all other judgemental passers-by, they will move on. So should you.
If you have small, light, relatively unbreakable items, let your child help you put them on the belt or counter. It's exciting. And it's nice to still be involved.
If the checkout person tries to engage your shy child in an interaction they're not keen on, don't push them to respond just to be polite, but don't excuse them as "shy" either (if they hear you tell people they're shy, they'll think of themselves as "shy" - maybe they are; but this still won't help). It's shopping day - they're having a long, tiring day. Say that, in their defense. It's fair enough.
Do not forget that thing you promised them. You've taken it to the lady (even if the "lady" turned out to be a man) - now it's time to produce the goods.

7. Get outta there, man.

Make grocery shopping the last job on your list. Groceries, checkout, car, home. That's how they need it to go. Remember, even if they seem to have coped really well, it's been overwhelming for them. Don't be tempted to pop in one more shop before you go. Do them (and yourself) a favour: get outta there.

8. Home sweet home.

No one who's just been shopping with small children will pull into their driveway and breathe a thank-goodness-that's-over sigh of relief. Because they're busy mentally preparing for the imminent onslaught: unloading the car of big heavy awkward shopping bags and tired heavy awkward children; getting those tired kids settled in back at home; dealing with toilet emergencies (theirs and yours) and sudden desperate thirsts and babies who need feeding and toddlers who need naps; unpacking all that shopping before it's pilfered by the little gutsies.

Sure, it's an onslaught. Sure, it's exhausting. But then, suddenly, your worn-out children are either asleep or settled in some quiet activity, your kitchen is neatly restocked, your to-do list is temporarily looking pretty satisfied, and the kettle has just boiled.

You did it.

Now, time for a quick Facebook status update to let the whole world know how great your kids are.

puff paint!!!

: barefoot_mummy; May 22nd, 12:55

Just dropping in briefly to share our latest bit of crafting awesomeness, thanks to One Crafty Mumma... We made puff paint!!

Ellie calls it "Huff-and-Puff Paint". Love it.

Wanna know how? Yes, you do.

Dollshouse Mummy and Girl Duck get front row seats.

All you need is:

Some plastic cups or something to hold the paint (it did wash out super-duper easily though, so don't be too worried).
Some little paintbrushes - or cotton buds work just as well!
Cardboard (a chopped-up weetbix box worked for us) - do not use paper. Seriously, just don't.
And equipment-wise, apart from a working microwave, that's pretty much it.

To make the puff paint, just mix:

1 tablespoon of self-raising flour
1 tablespoon of salt
a few drops of food colouring
enough water to make a thin paste

We found it easiest to have a jug of water handy, so we could gradually add water till we reached the right consistency. Too thick, and it's really hard to spread. Too thin, and it's a watery mess. It's easy to adjust as you go with a bit of extra water or flour.

We probably only needed half these quantities - but if you have a more normal attention span, this much will be fine.

Our crafting usually has an audience of small folk. This time she thoughtfully provided seats.

Ta-da!

You're ready to get painting.

That's right - jamas and jeans. Stylin'.
Our favourite setup involves step-ladder, kitchen counter, and in Ellie's case a smock over some kind of half-pjs-half-daytime-clothes combo. (What? We craft early; Ellie getting dressed is usually a work in progress.)

So then when you're done, just pop your artwork in the microwave for 10-30 seconds, until it's all nice and puffy. Ours took roughly 20 seconds, some with thicker bits a few seconds longer.

It will smell like weird old baking in your microwave after. This does go away.

Time for a couple of before-and-afters? Sure.

My first attempt:

Doesn't really do justice to the awesome puffiness. Just trust us - it's pretty puffy.

And Ellie's:

We did another one each, and then we were out of weetbix box (and Ellie was out of attention span).

And no, I do not plan out the spacing of my lettering. Can you tell?

Ellie actually got a really cool effect on her swirly bizzo. Check it out:
sweet textured puff-painty goodness

So, there you have it. Home-made microwaveable puff painting. Whole activity, setup to cleanup, probably took us half an hour, tops; and cleanup consisted of this: throw away three cotton buds, rinse out three jelly cups and a tablespoon, drain a water jug. Because it's not particularly runny paint, we didn't even have any drippage where we'd been working - despite Ellie's habit of gesticulating wildly with a loaded paintbrush / cotton bud / soup spoon / light saber.

Anyway, rain interrupted our skating practice earlier, and it's just stopped raining, so we can't possibly be spending another minute indoors...

We'll catch up later. Go have fun!

Give yourself a break, mama.

: barefoot_mummy; May 18th, 23:58

Okay, days 16-18:
Day 16: Call a friend just to say, "hi, thinking of you."
Day 17: Compliment somebody.
Day 18: Ask someone how they really are.

What a slacko. Busy busy with kid stuff and housey business, not so good at making time for doing other people stuff this week.

So, just to teach me a lesson, I was made the recipient of one of those phone calls. You know, like the one I should have been making this week. And during this phone call, days 16-18 were all neatly ticked off - by someone else. Reminded me how good it feels to get one of those calls. To be told someone's thinking of you. To be complimented on what you're doing. To be asked how you are, and know your answer is actually being heard.

Valuable lesson. I might not have been the one doing these things when I was supposed to this week, but you can bet your sweet bippy (whatever that means) that from now on I'll be more aware of opportunities to be that friend. Because I've been beautifully reminded of how sweet it is.

So, touché, magic May Challenge.

***

Tonight as I was washing the dishes and listening to my lovely people playing together in the lounge, I was having a think. Reflecting on where I'm up to, improvement-wise.

New habits:

I've got the morning routine pretty much figured out. Up, dressed, curtains open, bed made, baby changed and dressed and fed, toddler toileted and dressed, breakfast happening (thankyou, Last Night Me, for setting up), breakfast finished before lunchtime (got tough on Ellie and her dawdling - decided it was time to start Busting Chops), dishes done and kitchen clean... And on with the day.

Throughout the day I'm finding a comfortable balance between keeping on track with my to-do list, and enjoying quality time away from my to-do list. The flow of the day is punctuated by Owen's big nap, lunch, Ellie's nap (which preferably coincides with Owen's secondary nap), and the Daddy's-coming-home-soon rush. I love the Daddy's-coming-home-soon rush. Tidy up, get something dinnerish happening, kettle on, plunger of coffee ready, kids as settled as it's possible to have them at that horrible pre-dinner hour. I'm hardly the perfect 1950s housewife, but I do like the notion of home as haven, refuge, escape from all the crazy out there. And it's a nice wrap-up to the mum-and-kids part of the day - righto, day's activities tidied, evening ready to roll... family time.

And when the evening's drawing to a close, it's becoming almost second nature to glance over my plans for tomorrow, set out the breakfast things (you're welcome, Tomorrow Morning Me), run a last quick tidy-up, and try to be in bed in time to cancel my 11pm "Why are you still up?" reminder alarm.

So, new habits are settling in quite comfortably.

Home progress:

Routines are all coming together nicely, too. I'm aware of the areas that easily re-clutter themselves, and I'm staying on top of them. I've got a sensibly prioritised to-do list, and I'm steadily working my way through it. I've got a system that's ensuring my house stays "clean enough" at all times. (By "clean enough", I mean it's no show home, it's certainly lived in, but I won't panic if you tell me you're dropping around in ten minutes, even if I know you read my blog and are therefore expecting a certain standard of order and cleanliness - because that's roughly what you'll find. See? Clean enough.)

That pesky dining room has been pretty slow going recently, but it's not going backwards.

And I think that leads me to my point for tonight.

How great is it when, at the end of the day, we can look back at all we've achieved that day and feel genuinely satisfied with ourselves?

Sure, you get that feeling on those occasional days when you've been super-focused, super-productive, and the kids have been either (a) freakishly well-behaved, or (b) elsewhere. But what about the other days?

Thinking things over as I scrubbed fish mess from the big frypan, I decided on a standard. If I can get to the end of the day and feel like we've achieved something, moved forward in some way? Awesome. That's what I'm aiming for. And if I get to the end of the day and frankly can't see that I've achieved anything, if from where I'm standing it looks like we're exactly where we were at the start of the day? Content. Because by not moving backwards, I win for another day. Things got grubby; now they're clean again. Things got moved around; now they're tidy. Little people got hungry; I fed them. I'm starting my mornings with a tidy, organised home, so if we're back to that at the end of the day, good on us. There are plenty more days coming when we'll be able to take another step forward; some days are just about holding our ground.

Take heart, busy mamas. Even if you've achieved nothing in your day... you have. You're not who you were this morning, and certainly your kids aren't who they were. Those children of yours have grown, developed, learned. Don't feel like you've taught them anything today? They've been practicing, revisiting lessons of previous days, consolidating.

Look at it like learning to drive. Certainly, you need to have lessons - but not every day. Some days you're just clocking hours, gaining experience, practicing what you know. And that's just as necessary.

If you've spoken a kind word to your child today, you've built just a little more on their certainty of your love for them, and of their value as a person. If your toilet-learning toddler made it to the toilet in time just once today, they've gained a little more confidence in their ability to do the whole toilet thing. If you fed your baby, that little one is now just slightly bigger and slightly stronger than they were yesterday.

Kids grow. For them, the only way is up (if you'll pardon my Yazz). They learn without even trying. Houses, on the other hand, have a tendency to deteriorate. And life, left unchecked, gets out-of-control busy. So. If your house is no worse than it was this morning; if your to-do list is no more full... relax. You've done well. Your kids are fine. In fact, better than fine - they're new and improved, without you even really noticing the upgrade as it happened.

No new achievements today? Big deal. The same old achievements are still achievements. When you're looking back over what you got done, make sure you count everything. Just because you did it all yesterday, and will do it all tomorrow, doesn't mean it doesn't count today.

Oh, and check out those amazing kids of yours. Seriously, aren't they just so impressive? Put down that to-do list right now, and go enjoy them.

And make sure at the end of today, you include that on your list of What I Got Done.

not really bathtime, but playtime; they just happen to come out cleaner.

Booyah.

gratitude, laughter, and other good things

: barefoot_mummy; May 15th, 17:35

(Friday) Day 11: Little fluffy things: cuddle your fur baby today.

Didn't even see my fur baby. But here she is: my Amber - plenty of fur, but not exactly a baby any more, so I've included my baby to cover all bases. One of these, I have cuddled today.

***

(Saturday) Day 12: Best read - indulge in a good book.

Op-shop trip with Mum and baby O. I went for other things, but I canNOT walk past a shelf of bargain books without browsing for way longer than I meant to spend in the entire shop.

$3.99 Jodi Picoult. Can't complain. Can't put it down. Possibly this is to blame for how many days I have to catch up on here...

***

(Sunday) Day 13: Mothers' Day: enjoy a great big cuddle with your loved ones.

My darlings gave me a sleep-in! What a beautiful gift! 8:30am, I was woken by the smiling faces of two very sweet little people, bearing gifts of chocolate and the Hilltop Hoods' new CD. Add to the equation one breakfast-in-bed-bringing husband and one morning spent Not Getting Up, and you've got yourself one happy mama.

Admittedly, part of the reason I wasn't getting up was because my shoulder was still killing me, but still. Spending the morning in bed, reading the aforementioned book... winner.

Oh, and cuddles. Lots of cuddles. Even with a thousand burning knives in my shoulder and a little girl who forgets to be careful on a fairly regular basis, who could help but cuddle those cute little pyjama-clad boncecakes?

***

(Monday) Day 14: Practice gratefulness: it's time to count your blessings, every single one.

I rubbed my hands together with glee at the beginning of this Challenge, when I looked ahead to Day 14 and saw this. I do love to count my blessings.

If you're ever having trouble seeing yours, or are finding them overshadowed by troubles, or hear yourself thinking "If I just had [whatever you think you need], then I'd be happy," here are some thoughts. Not mine, but like mine.

Credits: Handlettering Cite, Amazon vinyl wall lettering, Live Love Laugh Hope blog, The Proper Stranger, and a whole lot of Pinterest.

A sample of what I have to be grateful for...

an eternal home to look forward to.
a wonderful relationship with God today.
an amazing husband who loves me.
two beautiful nutcase children.
a wonderful extended family.
an upbringing full of love.
a wealth of life experiences to shape the way I see the world.
a safe, comfortable home.
a healthy body, despite all the chocolate.

Not to mention the stories I could tell of prayers answered, of miraculous healings, of stress-free provision, of guidance, of lessons gently (and not-so-gently, where necessary) taught.

Truly, I am blessed. There is so much more out there that I could have - but what more could I want?

***

(Tuesday) Day 15: Laugh out loud: share jokes, watch a comedy, or bring out the tickle monster!

We've done plenty of giggling today. After a busy couple of weeks, last night Ellie invited me into her room to play with her dolls' house. Lying there on her floor, holding a small plastic lady who was congratulating her small plastic daughter for weeing in a small plastic toilet, I realised it's been too long since Ellie and I last relaxed and truly spent some time together just freely playing.

So, today was about mending that. We did Playdoh, we did painting (photos coming when our artwork is dry), we did lots of silly messing around.

Tickles? Check. Jokes? Check. Ellie went through her repertoire.

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Interrupting cow.
Interrupting cow who?
[enormous pause]
MOO!!!

We're working on the delivery.

Comedy? Life with these weirdos is one big comedy. I actually found myself laughing out loud at a few old sent messages I found on my phone today...

Bonces never sleep - they jst lay really still with their eyes closed, plotting further mischief.

Ellie's been so funny - bellowing "Nugat-horn!" in her scary voice was my fave. Also "It was on Ambrosius' knee-pot!" & "I did a bogey!" were pretty good. & while I was busy & little boy was in his bouncer, the panic-inducing "I'm standing on baby Owen!" turned out 2 b a false alarm - she meant Ambrosius. Some ppl r so bonce they should come with a warning.

(I should explain - Ambrosius is Ellie's giant stuffed IKEA-dog. And "Nugat-horn" is Ellish for "unicorn".)

Urinated. On. My. Face. News at eleven.

Ellie jst asked Liam 2 sing "the Dreaming Song" - he said he didn't kno it, asked her 2 sing it. Apparently the Dreaming Song goes like this "Open the door... in the wall... Stinky stinky song... Stinky stinky... umbrella..." Love toddler nonsense.

Things u nevr thought u'd say, til u had a toddler, #562: "You can't make music with a chicken nugget."

Haha!! Ellie jst said "Ee-eorr, eee-orr... that's not Eeyore, that's a fire engine!"

Ellie tried on the new pjs - the bottoms r quite baggy & the frills almost completely cover her feet - "I think they're a bit too... pantsy."

Things u nevr thought u'd say, until u had a toddler, #786: "You don't want to get wee on your unicorn."

"I don't yont my breakfast, because it's very... old." [thinks] "When people don't eat their breakfast, they watch Timmy Time, don't they?" [sees my expression] "I will eat my breakfast, of course." Yeah, nice try, pal.

Ellie & I had a big kiss, then Ellie wipes her face & laughs & says "I've got Mummy-face on me!"

Wraps her mat around herself & claims to be a queen. "I've got to go back to my house, with all my... queen...s... They've all got mats." "You're very beautiful, Queen Elanor." [long pause] "Thanks. But I'm just a bit busy... queening."

At the table, Ellie stalling with her dollshouse ppl, doing the voices & everything. Me: "Ellie, eat your breakfast." The mum: "Do you like to eat her breakfast?" The girl: "Um, no thanks, because, my mouth doesn't open."

Things u nevr thought u'd say, until u had a toddler, #869: "Please don't sit on your brother's head. In fact, get your bare bottom away from him."

Thought we'd finally found baby Owen's "full" face - thought it looked a lot like his "pooing" face. Turns out it looks a lot like his "pooing" face because it's not his "full" face, but his "pooing out the leg of my nappy into my highchair and covertly using my feet to smear it everywhere" face. Handy to know. In other news, there was a dead earwig under the highchair seatcover. So, that's been disgusting.

Things u nevr thought u'd say, until u had a toddler, #924: "Alright, alright, I humbly apologise for fraternising with the chipmunk."

Ellie reading a fruit & veg pamphlet to her teddy: "One day, there was a little fing. He had a little eye, and... And, he wanted to play with the carrot, and the munch, and the carrot munch. So [sad voice] he was very sad. And, too, [excited voice] he had an idea. He turned the page, and closed... And that's the end of the story."

The carrot munch, and the doll turning down breakfast because her mouth doesn't open, absolutely Crack. Me. Up. Every time.

So, yes, we've laughed out loud today. Today, and every day.

Another thing to be grateful for.

And, I suspect, a symptom of a grateful heart.

Doing Things I Never Thought I'd Do.

: barefoot_mummy; May 12th, 17:51

Psst! Wanna know a secret? I've recently become aware of something terrifying and wonderful and utterly unexpected: somewhere along the line, I have become...

A Morning Person!!

I know, I was shocked too.

And no, I don't believe it was having kids that turned me into a morning person. Nor was it through some spontaneous decision on my part. Perhaps some kind of combination of factors.

But whether it was divine intervention, or deciding to get up earlier to get a head start before the chaos begins, and then seeing how nice it actually is to be up and about early, or finding and loving the secret hidden bonus of extra hours in my day, or growing into it as I get older, or just the accidental forging of a new habit through enforced early risings... I'm in this, now. And now I know all this golden time is there to be had, I don't see how there can be any going back.

The still quiet of a morning when I actually succeed in rising before my children (who have needed no encouragement to also become morning people)... The gloaty moment of opening the curtains to greet the day and seeing you've beaten the sun to it by a few minutes ("Good morning, sun; nice of you to join us. I've been expecting you.")... The moment when you sit down for a well-earned rest and think over all the things you've achieved today... and then realise it's only 10am...

No going back.

I have always laughed off the very idea of the phrase "morning person" ever applying to me. Spur-of-the-moment, winging it, going with what I'm feeling at the time - that's been my style. Never was a fan of routine, predictability, any of that stuff. Ten years of crazy-roster shift work may have contributed to that, just slightly, perhaps.

And yet, here I am.

Got me thinking. What else have I embraced lately, that I never thought I would? In what other ways am I becoming that ridiculous, smug, organised, "morning person" type? You know, the type who knows what she's doing this whole week (okay, I'm still not thinking too far ahead), and knows how far off upcoming birthdays are and what she's getting for them, and can find things at a moment's notice because she knows where everything is. Yeah. Her.

I'm still not her. But in some ways I'm getting close.

Insights? Sure, here's some.

9 Things I Never Thought I'd Do...:

1. Make my bed daily. Before breakfast.
I know, Mum. Impressive, eh? Turns out the answer to "Why bother, if it's just going to get messed up again?" is "Because it makes the room look so much tidier, and gets you in the right mindset straight away." Seriously, bed made, curtains open - feels better. I get it now.

2. Set out breakfast things the night before.
Had a couple of conversations with people this week about how busy the morning is with a baby and a toddler. They usually wake up together, and Ellie needs to "have a go" on the toilet, and by then Owen's yelling for a feed, and by the time that's done Ellie's getting grumpy because she's hungry... and then I have to sit them together with some shared toys and get breakfast ready before the tiny angry horde of ravenous beasts attacks me. Weetbix, baby muesli, cheerios, my muesli, tea, milk, juice, water, vitamin, banana (sliced for me, chopped for Ellie, mashed for Owen)... Add in a nappy change for Mr Inconvenient Timing, an emergency toilet run with Ellie, a quick reset of Owen, who has a tendency to throw his toys away and then want them... Some streamlining can only help, right? Setting out bowls and cups and cutlery the night before sounds a bit gooby, but man, what a difference it makes. Practically, probably only a little bit. Psychologically, a lot. I'm organised, I'm prepared, I'm on top of things. It's another one of those smug morning moments, where I'm quietly thankful to Last Night Me for her kindness to This Morning Me.

don't panic - just start from the outside...
Good morning, Me. You're welcome.

3. Organise my pantry into baskets and labelled boxes.
Thankyou, Pinterest. There's only so many times you can look at other people's neatly organised cupboards before it starts to look like it might be worth the effort after all. I spent half an hour at IKEA, an afternoon buried in my "pantry" cupboards while Ellie and Owen sorted containers and lids... ta da!!! I can find things in my cupboards! I even have baking things in boxes with the name of the product cut out of the packaging and stuck onto the lid. Cereals, in cereal containers, labelled. I can see what I've got, I can grab things easily, and Ellie can't reach her pony lollies by herself. Everyone's a winner. Well, me. I'm a winner. And you've gotta love not buying things you already had because you didn't know you had them. No more. Which leads me to another relatively new habit...

4. Grocery shop first thing Monday morning.
I used to stumble into the supermarket around mid-afternoon, grimacing at the continual stream of post-school-pickup mums and ratty kids arriving soon after, wondering where all the good fruit and veg was hiding (now I know, cos now it's in my trolley by 10am. Mwahahahaha!), and then rush home to make dinner, feeling like time was always getting away from me. The kids are really good at morning shopping because they're still all bright-eyed and full of breakfast, I can enjoy shopping again because I've got time, and when we get home the bonces are tired and both nap while I put the shopping away. Nice! How do I achieve this early-morning stunt? Well, the next two points certainly help...

5. Meal plan.
I thought I'd hate this. I thought I liked cooking what I felt like on the day. Turns out what I don't like is not knowing what to make when I'm feeling uninspired, finding the meat I need is still in the back of the freezer, and wasting time on multiple trips to the supermarket for the couple of extra things I need to make what I feel like that night. So. Sunday night before bed, when I've got time to think, I plan it. I try to include one slowcooked meal, and one double-quantity meal so I can freeze half for next week. Then I make my list based on what I need, and Bob's your uncle. (Or not. If he is, tell him I said hi.) Our meals are varied, because I plan it that way. There are no more emergency dashes to the supermarket (unless we run out of chocolate). This system is working. Which brings me to my next point...

6. Put systems and routines in place, at all.
I thought this was other people's stuff. But simple things like "shopping bags back by the door after unpacking, back in the car next time you go out" and "pick a bathroom-cleaning day and actually do it, hippy!" are seriously working for me. Oh yes, another thing I Never Thought I'd Do...

7. Post a weekly schedule of chores on my fridge.
It's like magic. Everything gets done. And if I have plans that interfere with me getting something done, that's fine, because I can easily reschedule. You know that mad panic you go into on a Sunday morning when you decide it'd be nice to invite people back for dinner, and then you look at your house? Or when there's a knock at your door, and you have a split second to decide whether to (a) leave them waiting while you fly around the house throwing things in bedrooms and closing the doors, or (b) pretend to be out? No more. Monday is for groceries and bulk cooking of baby food, Tuesday is dusting and big laundry day, Wednesday is (a bit of a day off), Thursday is bathroom cleaning, Friday is catchup and errands day, Saturday is kitchen and vacuuming... And it works. It's all recently cleaned, all the time. Manageable chunks. But also...

8. Be "on duty", housework-wise, at all times.
Instead of doing some work, then switching off, I'm doing little things as I go. I'm in the bathroom anyway, so I'll give the sink area a wipe-down. Job done. I've taken my dishes to the sink, so now while I'm here I'll put away the dry things and wash my dishes. I've invested in two plastic buckets, one for each toy-scattering child, and before each nap or meal or trip to the shops, we throw everything that shouldn't be in the lounge into each kid's bucket and plonk them by their doors, to be sorted either immediately, or straight after the nap/meal/outing. Ellie gets right into it - she's offended if I tidy her things without her help. So: tidy living area, which spills over into tidy bedrooms, and kids learning good habits. Sweet.

"But... but... but..."
So of course Ellie doesn't want to pose holding the bucket. Her excuse: "I'm a girl, and girls don't hold buckets."

teddy-in-a-bucket
Fine. Just the bucket, then.

And keeping it all clean and tidy is so much easier when you...

9. Declutter brutally.
I'm familiar with the decluttering concept. It sounds great. But... those advocates for decluttering clearly don't understand my situation. See, I like all my stuff. I'm not like one of those people who has junk everywhere - I just have a lot of things. Everywhere. Okay, so maybe it's the same. If you find yourself saying "I don't really need to get rid of stuff - I just don't have enough space in my three-bedroom house for... all my... stuff..." (#firstworldproblems, much?), maybe you actually do need to get rid of some stuff. So, valentine's day this year, something snapped behind all that forehead, and I did it. I decluttered. Hello, corner of the bedroom where I couldn't even remember if there was carpet any more. Hello, kitchen shelf. Hello, back of the bathroom cupboard. Hello, dining room. (Okay, I'm still working on that last one. And my bedside table seems to keep restocking itself with book mountains while I'm sleeping. But hey, I'm getting there.) The system of box for Putting Away, box for Donating, box for Rubbish, set a timer, fill 'em and then deal with 'em - it's a good one. Having a hard time not putting everything in the first box, thus relocating your problem instead of fixing it? Look at it this way: the way things are now, are you loving each and every thing you have? Or is the quantity of your stuff interfering with your enjoyment of the quality? Here's some inspiration I've st~~olen~~ gleaned from various internetty resources lately (like this one): Clutter attracts clutter. True. Also: You cannot organize clutter - you can only organize the things you love. Turns out they're right. And I am gradually reclaiming space - and time - back over into the Things I Love category.

Can be done. If I can, anyone can.

Now, you're either reading this as someone who's already way more organised than me, thinking, "Aw, how cute, she's finally growing up and tidying her room." Or you're reading this as someone with fewer than two (sorry husband, three) small, distracting, messy people in your household, thinking, "Seriously, is all of this organisation stuff really necessary? Overreacting much?" Or, you might perhaps be where I was on 13th Feb 2012 - in a house that got messy when you weren't looking, in a life that just snuck (snuck?) from working chaos to things-are-getting-missed chaos, wondering how you're supposed to find a balance between spending valuable time doing what you love (whether that's parenting or something else) and avoiding the path that leads to an invitation onto a future season of Hoarders.

If you fit that last description, take a deep breath, and chill out. On 13th Feb 2012, I was just one day away from Making Some Changes. I didn't even know it. That evening I looked through some things on the net. And possibly stayed up late reading some free samples of home organisation books on my kindle (yep, the first 10% of a book is plenty - if you're a cheapskate like me). And then I slept on it.

I wouldn't say I woke up a different person. But over the next week or so, things changed pretty quickly. You know, cartoon snowball-down-a-hill style; that's me in the middle, mittens and boots sticking out here and there, no choice but to go along for the ride. You want change? You got it. Make a step in the right direction - you might find it's the one that plunges you off the edge of the mountain.

You know. In a good way.

I'd say my biggest changes, besides the use of containers to keep things tidy, have been: having set jobs for each day, having a set routine for mornings, and having a few little touches of preparation set in place the night before. If I treat each evening like preparation for battle, then each morning doesn't have to be a battle. Voila. Valuable time spent doing what I love, with the people I love - and a home that doesn't make me feel the need to hide and pretend to be out if people drop around unexpectedly. And now I'm doing this "morning person" thing, I'll be out of my pyjamas even if you drop around before midday!

I know. Revolutionary.

It's a whole new world.

(My apologies to the Aladdin generation, who will now have that song stuck in their heads for some time.)

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barefoot_mummy

Adventures at Knee-High

A happy gal, her toddler, her baby, & her best friend