A Tiny Recap

 One day not long ago I said to Matt that I was looking forward to Tiny starting school. For the simple reason that we would no longer have a tussle over what she will wear that morning. Nevermind the fact I'll be a sobbing mess, rueing the day my baby went off to school.

The truth is, I am not looking forward to Tiny starting school. Everyone knows that as soon as small children start school, it fast tracks them to growing up even quicker.

I need to have another baby.

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Tiny lay in bed with me the other morning, curled up in my arms. I was sleep drunk and just wanted to snooze, despite the incessant shrill of my alarm telling me otherwise. Tiny rolled over and told me my breath was stinky.

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On Thursday Tiny and I went to see the Doctor at his school as part of Education Week. Tiny sat on my lap throughout the very long concert, then told me she wanted to whisper in my ear. I leant forward, "Mum, your breath smells."

It's love. And halitosis.

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Friday is the day Tiny goes to the new daycare/preschool thing. I have been in strong denial that she even goes there. This morning she cried and cried because she didn't want to go. I held my wee one in my arms and told her it was just for a short time, and that she'd have fun.

During the day I thought of her, me at work, her at a new place full of new faces. I tried to call to check on her but no one answered.

Matt texted me later that afternoon to say he had picked Tiny up. She'd even told him she'd had a fun day.

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This makes me think I have bad breath. I hate bad breath. Moving forward I will not breath on anyone.

Guilty. As Charged.

Firstly, I want you to read this. Then come back over here and rejoin me. OK? Yes. Very good. 


With a very heavy heart, I must say, I do do some of those things. 


I hate that I do those things. I am mortified that I do those things. It's terrible I do those things. 


So today I am starting a new life. A fresh new page of my life. And I've sort of sampled this life previously - I've got a taste for it. I've voluntarily left technology turned off. Let my phone run out of batteries. And it feels SO good to not be switched on and available to the world all the time. 


It feels so refreshing to not be a slave to the ping of my phone.
To turn off - and not feel this creeping sense of - sheesh, I can not be in this moment. 
And it's good for my family. 
It's good for my family to have sacred time with me. Sacred family time. 


Do you do that? Or do you suffer FOMO? Because if you suffer FOMO, then just wean yourself off. Because really, all you're missing out on is finding out what someone's having for lunch, what they just bought (yawn), or how fabulous they are. 


And while you're at it, check out this thoughtful post from one of my favourite bloggers, Checks and Spots. 




image via this Etsy shop - phone is available for sale. And you can totes interact with your kids with this phone.

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day mamas!


I hope everyone enjoys a cold cup of tea in bed, some lukewarm toast, and my favourite - the hand-made cards. They melt my little heart. Every. Single. Time. 


I'm hoping for snuggles in bed, sticky kisses and a very low-key day. 


Have a wonderful day - see you on the flip-side, and hope the sun is beating down on your back. 


And a very special Happy Mother's Day to my beautiful Mum. She's taught me so much, loved me so much and supported me so much, if I can be half of what she is, I will be a good woman! 


very cool and cute card from Wit & Whistle

Over at JustB - Curse of the Yummy Mummy

Please join me over on JustB today - I'm talking about the curse of the yummy mummy.

Come over and play. Please.


image of an original yummy mummy via The Seattle Times

Home Is A Salve

Going home this weekend was exactly the tonic I needed.


To hit that open road and get the hell out of Sydney.


The world knows I needed it. I felt lighter getting out of this city. To escape the traffic, the crowds, the noise. I could list endlessly why I needed to get out of Sydney. I'm no longer in love with this city. I feel like it's over between us.


It's not you Sydney. It's me. Actually Sydney - it is you. You've changed. And I don't think I like you anymore.


Going home, feeling my way through familiar spaces, slowing down, feeling the grass underfoot. I got to spend quality time with my babies. Although it's a bittersweet thing, this slowing down. Because when you slow down, you get to know what you miss out on. Everything must be photographed, documented, because who knows when you'll get to do it again? And then by documenting everything, you miss out on being in that very moment.  It's almost a paradox. 


It's most definitely bittersweet - and the only cure is to book in more holidays to look forward to. I'm looking forward to the June school holidays. Busting out of the city again to enjoy more time with my parents and my wee babes, and more time for living. 


Tiny clung on to me this morning as I was about to walk out the door to work. She didn't want me to go. I didn't want to go.


That wasn't bittersweet. It was just bitter. 

Guest Post: With Nat Kringoudis

Today on PottyMouthMama I have a guest post - which is not something I ordinarily do. But during the four years I have been blogging, I have had the great fortune of meeting some truly inspiring women. Women that I wanted to share with the rest of the world. To shout about from the rooftops. 

Well this is my rooftop, and today Nat Kringoudis is guest posting. Nat is the brains and the beauty behind The Pagoda Tree and Fertile Body, Heart & Soul. 

I've known Nat for over two years. She's the type of woman who very politely takes life by the scruff of its neck - and makes it better. That means it's positive and bright. I can't say enough good things about Nat - she's like a bright nurturing beacon of light.  

Nat juggles her incredibly busy work life with life as the mum of two gloriously beautiful babes. The below post has been written by Nat. 

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This time last year, I fell pregnant. Something many women find themselves doing at some point in their life, but equally it's no mean feat.   As a natural fertility specialist, I know that some women’s journeys to pregnancy can be more difficult than other women's. Another thing I know is babies.  I know how to make them, I know how to keep them in until they are well baked and then I know how to get them out when my patients are ready to have their babies. I practice this everyday in my clinic.

However nine months later, I was in for a shock when I experienced nothing short of a horrendous 18 hour labour, drug free (just saying), which ended in an emergency c-section.  Again, something I know many women have been through, but certainly not something I would have chosen if I had been given an option.  This birth didn't go to my plan. I couldn't control it. This took some coming to terms with. It was a good lesson for me as a health professional, not one I wanted to have to learn but I took it on board. 

Just as the dust was settling and I was finally getting my life back into gear post cesarean and I was coming out of the haze of new mum-hood, I got a phone call that would change our family's life. My son was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis (CF).  I can’t remember much from that day. This was not how I'd envisaged this working out for us.

As a health educator and blogger, I’m yet to share my story on the world wide web.  Now a few months have passed, I've got more of our story to tell. Initially I was wary to share.  I wanted others to see my son Geordie for who he is rather than 'Geordie with CF'. You see, we very quickly learnt that people don’t know anything good in regards to CF. They know that people with CF suffer, they are sick and in the past they very often died at a young age. I also wanted the chance to prove to people (and perhaps even to myself) that that would not be my son's experience.  I needed time to show others (and again, prove to myself) that I could hopefully keep him well.  Not to be delusional about the reality of CF, I realised the challenges that the future would hold for us, but I would use all my might to scurry through every crevice of my brain and use all the tools I had.  The 11 years I devoted to studying health care was for a cause.  It seems, thisis what I had studied for.

I’m no stranger to CF. My best friend of 20 years has a son with CF. Two best friends, two boys with CF – what are the chances?  This question I have asked myself a thousand times.  What arethe chances?  With 3000 people living in Australia with CF, how is it that my high school bestie and I could both find ourselves here?  Most people's reaction is – ‘you’re so lucky you have each other.’  I agree, whilst I am so lucky to have her - this reality has been the hardest thing to come to terms with because the biggest risk to a child with CF, is actually being around another child with CF.   It means that our two sons shouldn’t really play together.   How do we do play dates?  How do I cope with limited time together?  I’m still learning to come to terms with it and it’s hard.  Really hard.  What about our dreams of taking them on a flight together to Disney land?   

 The first few weeks left my heart dark and heavy, like somebody had dropped a blanket over it.  Every time I felt like I had my head around it, I’d be punched in the face again as if somebody was saying “oh no you don’t – get back to feeling sorry for yourself.”  Thing is – that ain’t me.  Soon after, I couldn’t face it any longer.  I took charge and I took it real good.  We had to move on and get going with the job of making sure Geordie is a healthy boy.  

See, Geordie picked the right family or should I say, he was given to us as a gift.  Whatever way you look at it, I had lessons to learn and still do.  I learnt I’m a control freak – yup!  Who knew, right?  Granted, he has a bloody determined mother with a head harder than rodeo bull and a really level headed easy-going daddy.  He’s way lucky.  He also has a sister with a love for him that is larger than life itself.

Prior to having children, I would wonder what they were going to look and be like.  Every parent dreams of their ‘perfect’ child, or rather, they want their child to be perfect.  When I received the CF news there was a moment where all of this ‘what about...’ flashed in front of me like a broken neon sign that is shorting out.  I thought to myself  ‘this isn’t what I imagined, somebody let me out of this silly dream.’   When Geordie was diagnosed, so many messages streamed through saying “I’m so sorry to hear about Geordie” like he was gone and we were in mourning – and this broke my heart to say the least.  Reality was, there was nothing to be ‘sorry’ about (and I know these messages were sent with the best intentions), he was still Geordie and frankly nothing about him had changed.  I took it upon myself to make sure people understood the positives, that there was hope and that my Geordie had a big, bright future.  I understood that people didn’t quite know what to say to us, and that sometimes, silence is ok.  That’s a big deal coming from this chatterbox.  We didn’t need words, we just needed to know that we had support – thankfully, we had plenty of that. 

We’ve been lucky.  Geordie is going great guns.  He’s gaining weight at a rapid rate, and he is well, and this alone lifts the weight off my shoulders (not literally!).   Research in CF has come along in leaps and bounds and the future looks so bright for kids with CF. The big thing with CF is that you don’t know what you’ve been dealt.  Nobody can tell you how ‘well’ or ‘sick’ your child will be, and there are so many factors that go in the mix – genetics, environment, lifestyle and luck I’m sure.  The things I can’t control – I’m letting go of, but those that I can I’m going all the way.  I’m blessed with knowledge and I’m blessed with my perfect son.  I truly feel lucky.

Someday we will all go to Disney land – it might be on separate flights, but we will get there and we will have the time of our lives, together.  Geordie has already taught me that life is for the living – we will be making every day count for the rest of our long, long lives.
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Nat is currently finishing work on her upcoming e-book on priming your body for fertility, with tips and tricks for a wellness overhaul, including over 25 recipes for building a fertile body. I'll keep you posted when it comes out.

image: the beautiful image of Nat with baby Geordie is courtesy of Nat

Dangerous Kids VS Bubble Wrapped Cloistered Kids

Do you let your kids do dangerous things? Me? Nope. Not really. Which is a shame really. It is. They live this cloistered life where they don't get to experience life's heady ups and it's way down downs. 


While my kids don't live a dangerous life, I do try and invest in them a sense of independence. I think independence in children is an absolutely positive thing. It's what you want. Well it's what I want anyhow. 


I lived a childhood where we tore up the streets riding our bikes 'round and 'round, through church yards, up and down gravel roads. We walked to the local BP station for mixed lollies. We walked bare foot through grass. We got sunburnt. I jumped into the pool. Mum had to fish me out. We lit fire crackers. We made bonfires. We made teepees out of sticks. I jumped into the pool. Mum had to fish a blue-faced me out. We drove through my grandparent's paddocks, me sitting on Gramps' knee steering. I got rose thorns in my fingers. I trod on bindis. I trod on prickles. I trod on bees. I trod on a nail. Yes. I trod on a lot. That's what happens when you have big feet like me. 


We had cats, dogs, rabbits, lambs, birds, fish and chickens for pets. Life was good. Life was full. And Mum and Dad cast out a net for us to catch our own experiences. 


And then I look at my children's experiences. They don't really play out on the street with the other kids. Society has in a way wrapped them up in bubble-wrap and cloistered our kids. We're raising a generation of kids that are bubble-wrapped. Heck, all the playgrounds these days are safety-conscious they've removed the fun from it. Where's the sense of adventure? 


One of my friends posted this TED Talk on their Facebook page (thanks to whoever that was) and I became inspired. 


I'm inspired to let my children experience more. I want them to play with fire - but with boundaries. I want them to pull things apart. I'm going to let my kids use knives. I'm going to give my kids tools to experience life to a fuller capacity. They can throw spears too - just not sure where we're going to do that. 


If for one thing alone, watching this has added a new dimension to my parenting. I want my kids to live a colourful and rich childhood. A pocket-knife is now on my shopping list for the Doctor's birthday.

Toothless

The Doctor has lost his second top tooth over the weekend.

As he noted, it's the first tooth he's lost at home, all the others have fallen out at school - and only one made it home.

Not to worry. I wasn't pinning all my hopes and dreams on those lost teeth.

The Tooth Fairy came and went, and now he's checking his other teeth for wobblies - the Tooth Fairy is a lucrative deal.

It dawned on me today how big my boy is growing. He'll be seven before too long, which means I've been a mama for just as long.

There's the revelation that old people are right. The older you get, the quicker the time seems to pass. I can remember clutching that newborn to my chest after two hours of pushing.

This Is Not A Celebrity Blog

But I just had to share this shot of Beyonce. Her first outing since having Blue.

AYE CARUMBA!

Now that is one hot dang mama.

Working. And What Does This Mean?

I've been giving it much consideration lately - I was formerly a stay at home mum (SAHM) - and found it immensely tiring, but in the same breath - immensely satisfying. You got to see the outcome of what you put in, and, for me, that was my proudest achievement. Daily you reaped rewards in the form of sticky cuddles, sloppy, wet kisses, and the pinnacle of parenting - high-fiving after mastering potty training. It was full of daily simple pleasures, and sometimes it was mundane, but mostly it was full to the brim of a gentle kind of happiness.

When Matt and I decided to switch things around so he could finish his studies, I returned to the paid workforce. I had been freelancing for five years, which was getting more and more tricky with two small kids, but it had its rewards too. But it was inconsistent, so I started looking around.

I went back to the coalface, working 4 days a week, and have been there now for 18 months. It's not been an easy transition either. I am riddled by mother's guilt. I always feel like I am missing out. I always feel like my kids are missing out on their mama.

Work is satisfying and exciting, and of course there's the thrill of hitting targets and weekly wins, I get to utilise my years of experience, but it's definitely not the same as parenting.

Sure there are tantrums. Arguments. Petty office politics. But on the flipside, I do get to go to the toilet cubicle solo.

I race hither and thither so I can be doing my job to the best of my abilities, and race home so I can spend as much time as possible with my smalls.

And recently, it made me think:

What do other mums think?

Is it more important to work in a job that stretches your brain (in a good way), and let's you blossom professionally?

or

Is it more important to have a flexible job?

And

Is it possible to have both? Or is brain-stretching distinctly separate to flexibility?

I'm undecided.

PS - I don't know why I felt the need to post a picture of Tootsie. I just did. I love Tootsie. I just can't even rationalise why I put that picture there.

Let's Discuss: Breastfeeding

image source: Daughter of the Sun

I posted this photo on my Facebook page tonight. And it created much debate. And then it got deleted.

I am only hazarding a guess that someone found it offensive, flagged it, and Zuckerberg pulled it down. Ripped it straight off my PMM wall - blu tac and all, took all the comments and *POOF* it's gone.

It might not be everyone's style of breastfeeding, but I think it's pretty rad. If I could headstand, starkers, I'd be doing it in a flash.

Bon appetit baby. Bon appetit.

Movie Review:: Rango

A couple of weeks ago I convinced the smalls they wanted to see Rango. Tiny was pretty keen - the Doctor, notsomuch. He needed a lot of convincing.

But we watched it - a couple of times. Who could resist a film starring Johnny Depp? Clearly, not I. Who could resist a film about a chameleon starring in a Western? Clearly, not I.

One of my favourite scenes - without giving too much away - is where he sheds his skin. If you've seen Rango, you may know this scene, he kind of freezes, and the skin cracks off. Exactly how my eye feels. Like a lizard shedding its skin.

But in the interests of reviewing this fairly, I'll review as two different people. The (wo)man in the mirror. And the (wo)man not in the mirror.

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1st review: from a mother of a 3.5 year old and a 6 year old

Finally a cool & quirky film with an all-star cast. I like Shrek, Cat In the Hat and all those others as much as every other person, but Rango is a bit different. Johnny Depp. Isla Fisher. Johnny Depp.

BUT Rango has some pretty serious, pretty dark undertones. The content is pretty heavy for a small person. There are some sinister characters - which - well so are there in real life, but these are condensed.

It's also violent. Gun-slinging, down and dirty Western style.

Both the smalls were a bit scared at one stage, and I had to stay planted firmly on the couch with them.

So as far as kids movies go, it was good, but be prepared, it's a bit scary. A bit dark. A bit sinister. But with a happy ending.

Now Tiny is obsessed with lizards and they're all called Rango.

3 stars

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2nd review: as a 32 year old woman

Well HELL-O Johnny Depp as a Hawaiian-shirt wearing chameleon. Hello Isla Fisher as a bug-eyed lizard.

Hello beautiful animation and quirky-cool storyline.

Couldn't fault it. Loved it. Funny. Fast paced. Laugh out loud humour. And I really did laugh out loud.

Well worth watching. A couple of times. It's a delightful movie with a moral. Yep.

4 stars

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There ends my DVD review. Have you seen Rango? What did you think?

Bribery & Parenting 101

I've taken to bribing the smalls to do mundane everyday things that they're just not that into.

1. Like brushing teeth. A couple of weeks ago I introduced "The Toothbrushing Time Trials" in preparation for "The Toothbrushing Olympics". The smalls don't know that they are the only competitors - and quite frankly, they don't need to know. But heck. This idea works a charm. I get Matt's iPhone, prep the stopwatch and BOOM! Two minutes of teeth brushing bliss for both of them. No wrangling with Tiny. No whinging. No lightweight brushing.

Gold star to mama.

2. In the interests of keeping the peace, Matt has decided to keep the smalls bathing separately. But I can't be bothered waiting for two rounds of bath-times, so I've been bribing them to get into the bath with a squirt each of this Imperial Leather Foamburst. Have you seen this? It's lush! Like washing myself with rich shaving cream, well that's the consistency. And the smalls - it gets them every time! Boom! Straight into the bath.

Gold star to mama.

3. When the smalls aren't asking for food, I feed them. A snack bowl full of celery, grape tomatoes, carrot sticks, whatever's on hand. Those smalls don't see me coming. Sneaking vegetables into them. Making them less fractious before dinner time. I swoop in there like a secret vegetable avenger.

Gold star to mama.

4. The Doctor came home from school upset. He needed some coaxing, but finally told me that someone had punched him in the tummy. Again. And that because I had drawn a love heart on his yoghurt, half the class laughed at him and made fun of him - and the poor little dude, he cried. The worst thing? I've always put hearts on his lunchbox - because I LOVE him - and that morning, I had thought, hmm, maybe I shouldn't. Then I thought - shucks, he's in Kindergarten. He's six. It's ok! It's love! Wrong mama. Wrong. So I wrote a little note to his teacher to let her know. He came home triumphant. Everyone in the class HAD to come to school with hearts and love notes from their parents in their lunchboxes. How cute is that? And the puncher. He got reprimanded very swiftly. School is the HARD YARDS!

Gold stars all 'round.

And here ends my bribery & parenting and ranting 101.

Image is Tiny looking scary.