Hair Wars (Scunci Girl Giveaway)

Every parent has one task that they dread. And anyone who denies that fact, clearly has a nanny.

It could be cleaning poo-splosions, it could be cleaning vomit - hell, it could be the task of WEARING vomit that makes you want to claw your eyes out.

For me, it's hair.

Miss 4 is just as unimpressed as I am.

Image found here

No amount of cajoling, bribery, soothing sounds of the blue whale will make her sit still. Or stop screaming. I've tried the flip side - saying that I'll shave her bald like her Uncle M, or I'll never brush her hair again and she'll get a giant knot and rats will move in.

Nope, nothing doing.

I used every detangling spray known to man, every detangling shampoo, conditioner, balm, witchdoctor potion and, while they make the process a little easier, it still isn't enough to stop the dramatics entirely.

The most successful combination I've found is a good quality shampoo and conditioner, a fantastic detangling comb, a sturdy paddle brush, and a quality detangling spray. To keep it all together, some tight braiding with snagless hair ties.

With the volume of hair ties that get lost along the way - and the number of hair ties that claimed they were snagless, but the fact that I had to cut them out of Miss 4's hair made me think they were lying - I'm never keen to spend a fortune on them. But at the same time, you want to know you're using something that won't snap at the first sign of some tension.

Enter the battle zone - Scunci Girl hair accessories!

I've used Scunci for quite some time now, and I've always been happy with the cost and the quality. Their snagless hair ties are exactly that - I've never had to carve a Scunci hair tie out of a screaming child's hair.

And the best thing about Scunci? Well, they are generously offering the chance for two Anything Kel readers to win a goodie bag full of their back to school range, including;

Scunci Girl 2pc Brush and Comb Flower Pack

RRP AU$7.95

Scunci Printed Detangling Comb

RRP AU$6.95

Scunci Printed Hand Held Mirror

RRP AU$16.95

Scunci Girl 12pc Enamel Snaps with Glitter Finish

RRP AU$6.95

Scunci Girl 12pc Evolution Elastics with Motif

RRP AU$6.95

Scunci Girl 12pc Spiral Ponytailers

RRP AU$6.95

Scunci Girl 24pc Mini Toweling Pony's

RRP AU$5.95

Scunci Girl 4pc Knotted Hair Wraps

RRP AU$5.95

To be in the running, just leave a comment below with your best hair story and your email address. 

And let's face it, the funnier the better. However, I'll also accept stories of hair brushing trauma - so I know I won't be the only one rolling up to Hairbrushers Anonymous meetings.

For more information on Scunci products, you can visit www.scunci.com.au

Entries close 6pm CST on Sunday 26 January 2014. Winners will be drawn via random.org and notified via email.

Good luck!!

The Acidic Observer, The 'What the Fuck, Universe!?' Edition

This week The Acidic Observer comes courtesy of my own life.

There will be swearing, irrational problem solving and more swearing.

They are 100% First World problems, but they are shitting me to tears so I am going to bitch about them here.

Because if I can't bitch on my own blog, then what the hell is the point??

For starters, Power and Water are on my shit list. They are at an all time high on my shit list, in fact. Why? Well, in my experience, when you send out an amendment to a power bill that shows your bill is well and truly covered and you have a surplus to carry over to the next quarter and then the next week you send those same people an ACCOUNT for $1,300 for the same quarter you just told them was paid for - you're going to end up on someone's shit list.

And, frankly, they should be grateful not to be on my 'hit and run list'.

Then the pool man knocks on the door. He's checked on the leak from the pool pump we were talking about, and it's not the 'o' ring.

No, of course it's not the 'o' ring - why would it be something that could be solved for under $10!

The entire fucking sand filter has split, and to make it even better we can't claim it under the 10 year warranty because the pool and equipment came with the house when we bought it, and the warranty isn't transferable.

Are you shitting me!!? Fine, there's another $1,200.

Although I've been wondering how much it would cost just to fill the stupid thing in. I may have mentioned this solution to The Man...

Finally, I wake up this morning and flick on the news only to find the TV in the lounge room has a massive red strip of pixels down one side of the screen.

Yep - thanks Universe - fuck you too.

On the bright side, this irritating shit happens in 3's, yes? So we're done. For now, at least.

Power and Water seem to want money every 3 months.

Bastards.

We really need to invest in a generator.


 

Where iProducts go to die...(Zimmiz giveaway)

I don't know about you, but we are a household of iAnything addicts.

We have iPhones, iPads, iPods and enough accessories to choke a horse.

Admittedly, our daughter has been assisting us in curbing our iAddiction. By culling our collection.

We lost an iPod touch and an iPhone 4S to the toilet bowl. To Miss 4's credit, she did wrap them in towels to try and save them. Sadly, they had flat lined and no amount of water absorbing material was going to bring them back.

We lost another iPhone to the front stairs, and I lost the rear glass panel on my iPhone to our lounge room floor.

I'm sure we've lost another iPod touch along the way. I think that one succumbed to the asphalt in a carpark.

Our daughter will never be an olympic ball sports player with her butter fingers.

However, in the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that I lost my first iPhone after I left it on the roof of the car and drove off. But I think I was more upset about losing the gorgeous deep red cover than I was the actual phone.

So she's learnt from the best.

This Christmas just gone we were looking into getting a heavy-duty-will-survive-a-nuclear-explosion case for my iPhone since Miss 4 loves playing the games and watching Charlie and Lola episodes on it. We looked at the Otterbox Case, the Lifeproof Case, the Griffin Survivor Case and even one called the 'Mighty Vault'. All heavy duty, all fifty inches thick and all ugly as anything.

Yes, I know, I'm vain - what do I care for the look of it when it's going to mean I can save my phone from certain death?

Well, for starters, none of them came in pink. Or red. So it was a deal breaker from the start.

In the meantime, we did purchase one of the FisherPrice iPhone cases for babies. This was for The JellyBean when she gets a bit older and might be interested in what her sister is doing with anything iRelated. I like that it protects the phone, but Miss 4 has informed me that it's just for babies.

Right-o then.

So when I received an email from Sophie at Polkadot PR regarding Zimmiz^®, I was intrigued.

Zimmiz^® is a new App from Big Foot Toys featuring cute, customisable aliens, and you can bring them to life with the specially-designed plush toy which features a pocket to securely house your iPhone or iPod Touch.

A toy that acts as a phone case* appropriate for children from 4 years? Hello answer to my prayers!! The plush also features poseable arms and antennas with a little sleeve on its back to carry Zimmi^® with.

"Children today gravitate to smart phones and tablets as much as they do their favourite teddy bear," said Rowan Isaacs, Marketing Director and Co-inventor of Zimmiz^®. "Zimmiz^® represents the best of both worlds. It brings play to vivid life - and sets the stage for meaningful and rewarding experiences that go far beyond those of traditional toys."

Miss 4 had a chance to play with the App itself before her plush arrived for a road test. She liked it but, looking back, the interaction was a little restricted compared to what she can do with the plush attached.

Once the plush arrived, it was clear there was no way I was ever going to get my phone back.

Miss 4 loved the transformation from App to interactive toy, and Zimmi^® goes everywhere with us. I'm no longer terrified of her dropping my iPhone on the ground and it smashing into a thousand pieces- the plush holds my phone in there snug as a bug, and it's so padded and squishy I feel like it could fall from the roof of our home and come away unscathed*. I still fear the toilet bowl, but I've been informed that Zimmi^® prefers to wait outside the toilet, so the chances of him suffering an unfortunate flushing are minimal.

I love that Miss 4 has a toy with a wide range of emotions and reactions. Her interactive babies never sleep. They continue to talk, snore or cry unless you rip the batteries out of their backs in a frenzy to get them to shut up! Zimmi^® will go to sleep with the simple motion of closing his/her eyes...or hitting the home key and exiting the App. Yay for Mummy's sanity!!

Zimmiz^® is developed by a team led by David Smith, an animator for the film Happy Feet. And it shows, because the graphics are brilliant.

There are games to play such as 'Zimmiz^® Says' and a memory game, you can customise his face, right down to his birth mark. He laughs when tickled, blows bubbles with chewing gum, burps, almost explodes when you feed him a chilli and, Miss 4's favourite thing of all time, he farts.

He'll also throw up if you give him a whizzee for too long - and then you can either watch it slide down the screen, or wipe it away with a cloth yourself. Miss 4 enjoys both options. I just do my best not to relive my experiences with vomit during my pregnancy with The JellyBean.

Overall Zimmiz^® has been a hit in our household, and if you have a iAnything savvy child in your home that could do with a friend who will sing, choke on his food and forget to cover his mouth when he sneezes then this is the giveaway for you!

I have one Zimmiz^® plush toy to giveaway to the person who has the most hilarious iTragedy. So share your best iAccident involving a mobile phone, tablet, or iPod before 6pm CST on Sunday 6 March and you could be welcoming Zimmiz^® into your home soon! So I can contact you, don't forget to include your email address in your comment entry.

For more information on the App and the plush toy you can visit www.planetzimmi.com, “like” Zimmiz^® at Facebook.com/planetzimmi, follow Zimmiz^® at Twitter.com/planetzimmi or view their YouTube channel at http://www.youtube.com/PlanetZimmi

The Boring Bits

• Giveaway will be open from Tuesday 26 February 2013, and will close at 6pm CST on Sunday 3 March 2013.
• The winner will be determined by me as the most hilarious accident involving a mobile phone, tablet, or iPod.
• I was provided with one Zimmiz^® plush toy for a road test, and a second plush to giveaway.
• The winner will have 24 hours to respond before a new winner is chosen.
• All decisions are final.

* The Zimmiz plush toy is NOT marketed as a phone case, and it should not be relied on as such. The phone case properties are simply my own, personal observation.

The Stepford Tea Party...

I made a friend at pre-school.

I'm not quite sure how it happened - maybe it's because we were both the 'odd one's out'? You know, we look normal and comfortable versus the masses of overdone, made-up super models who swan in to drop their kids off. They are either wearing all white or else they are in the tightest work out gear you could possibly find.

There's no junk in their trunk - unless they had it surgically implanted.

My new friend - let's call her Z - is lovely. She's funny, loud and normal. These are requirements I have for all my friends.

We had our first catch up last week, on valentines day in fact, and we agreed to coffee after drop-off. I was looking forward to diving into a tall cup of Gloria Jeans, but the day before Z text me asking if I would mind catching up at her place.

Sure, no worries - going to her place meant I wasn't required to do any panicky, last minute tidying at 6am. Because regardless of how nice the house might be looking, it's never good enough for visitors unless I've singed my nostril hairs with disinfectant, moments before they arrive.

Drop-off complete, we both packed our smallest children into our respective cars and I agreed to follow her. It was then I started to have a sinking feeling...

Was I completely mental!? I don't really know who this woman is! She could be leading me to a vacant lot in the middle of nowhere to car-jack me and steal my baby! The small child in her car could be a decoy to make me think she's harmless. Should I be texting The Man my location so he can have my lifeless body retrieved? Should I be doing a u-turn right about now to escape? Should I have done that last load of washing before I left the house?

By the time I had every irrational, panicky thought my brain could throw at me, I had followed Z to a perfectly normal suburb and was pulling into a perfectly normal driveway leading to a perfectly normal house.

Great, I thought, she is a murderer. This is all FAR too normal.

And yet, I still got out of the car, and still went inside...ready to swing the nappy bag like a weapon if I had to.

When I got into the dining area I thought I was hallucinating. The spread was unbelievable and I honestly wanted to ask if she was expecting the other Mum's in the street to join us.

Cue worrying thoughts of 'The Stepford Wives'.

Image from Here

Then I realised there were only two tea cups on the table, so clearly it was just us.

She had a solid silver tea set, with a sugar bowl that had sugar CUBES in it. Not just sugar, but sugar CUBES. I'm not sure that I've ever had sugar cubes before because I've never had tea with the bloody Queen!

The tea cups were gorgeous, and immediately I decided when I got home I was going on the T2 website and ordering some of the tea cups I've been coveting for ages. Clearly I am behind the times and needed to get me some sexy tea cups!

Image from T2 website. Z had cups similar to this in blue and green - gorgeous!!

Next thing I knew I was seated comfortably at the table, feeding The Jellybean, and Z enquired if I would like tea or coffee.

Well, it was only 8:45am and I had already reached my stress limit for the day, so coffee was a go! Z whisked my cup away, placed it in the most amazing automatic coffee machine I've seen and pressed a button. A cafe quality cappuccino was delivered to my saucer a moment later and I had to do my best not to try and climb into it like a bath.

While I was trying to wrap my head around the whole tea set up and the logistics of fitting the coffee machine in the nappy bag, Z morphed in to Martha Stewart and red velvet mud cake with a chocolate ganache arrived on the table, aong with fresh scones, whipped cream and jam and some home made bacon and cheese mini quiches.

It was official - she was the LEADER of the Stepford Wives! If she came to my house the best she could have hoped for was a cup of instant with granulated sugar, water poured from the kettle and probably a Tim Tam or maybe a cheese stick if I could track one down.

By that point I was re-evaluating my entire existence as a wife because, clearly, I'm nowhere near having my shit together. 8:45am? Red velvet cake? WTF! If The Man ever found out women like this existed, I'd be traded in like a Model-T Ford for a Ford GT.

It was a sad state of affairs for my new found confidence in the kitchen.

On the upside, it was very apparent that Z wasn't a murderer and her children were, in fact, hers. A massive revelation that meant I could relax and enjoy all the goodies on that table. We were so engrossed in our conversation and the sampling of food that we lost track of time and a 1 hour coffee turned into a 4 hour tea party.

Always a good sign when you're not clock watching.

Overall, I think Z is a keeper.

A Stepford Tea Party keeper, but as long as the red velvet keeps coming, I'm not going to complain. However if the next catch up is at my place, I'm going to need at least a month to prepare.

Growing Pains...

For some inexplicable reason I thought parenting would get easier as my child got older.

I mean, it sounded logical at the time. Babies can't communicate so it can be tough to identify their needs. As they grow, they learn to speak and this cuts down on the time it takes to address an issue and everyone is a lot calmer.

I'll admit that I'm feeling a bit out of my depth with a 4yo. She is so very outspoken, so very playful, so very sulky and so very territorial.

Some days I just don't know where to start - usually because Miss 4 has rolled out of bed with a scowl on her face and I can tell that the day ahead is going to be a challenge that only peanut M&M's will cure. For me, anyway.

I try so hard not to get exasperated with her behaviour when it's not up to scratch. I always kneel eye to eye and keep my voice quiet and calm when she's starting a 'hissy-fit' over something trivial, I always try to diffuse the situation rather than feed into it. I like the idea of having a conversation with her about what she's feeling and why rather than flying off the handle.

Some days this works fine - and other days I might as well be talking to my pillow.

My Mummy friends compare me to a My Little Pony character...Fluttershy...




Family refer to me as a push over. I've been told I'm too soft, and I'll be honest, Miss 4 totally knows it.

I just don't like raising my voice - I don't even like calling out in a crowd to get someone's attention.  It feels abrupt and agressive.

Last week she completely lost it while out and about, after a day of trying moods and constant attempts to 'talk it out'. I knelt down to meet her blue eyes and was determined to deal with this quickly. I did - but the tone that escaped from my lips was a new one. It was most definitely 'straight-forward'. I didn't yell, I didn't intimidate, I didn't humiliate - but it most certainly wasn't the voice I was familiar with.

Somehow my brain switched a gear...

I put my Mummy Pants on...

I found 'The Voice'!!

And just like that Miss 4 stopped the tanty, and listened to what I said.

I don't like to say I was 'assertive', because I always think people use the word 'assertive' to excuse their 'agressive' behaviour. In my book it's the same thing, but one word has been made more politically correct and Human Resources friendly so bullying can still continue when it's convenient.

But that's a whole other issue for another day!

I still came down to meet Miss 4's eyes, I still didn't raise my voice, I was still calm and quiet. But the tone of my voice was different - it was lower, it was stronger and it meant business. Miss 4 looked confused initially, as though she didn't know who she was looking at, but that gave way to acceptance very quickly - she realised I wasn't fluffing around.

I'm not even sure I can describe it  - but when I think back I always think of Barry White.

But, you know, girly.

I keep forgetting that while Miss 4 is learning every day, so am I. I need to accept that this parenting gig is dynamic and always changing - just because I have a handle on it one day doesn't mean that I'll have it all under control the next day. And a bad day doesn't mean I've failed. It means I'm human.

I've pulled my 'Barry White Move' when necessary and it's been quite effective - sometimes Barry has to come back for a repeat performance - and a week on from finding my best move, the need for it is lessening. For that I am grateful. It means I can keep my marshmallow exterior, but I have a chewy caramel centre now - not too hard and not too soft.

Just right for Miss 4 and me.

Filling in the Gaps...

It would seem that Friday is my blogging day. I'm putting it down to being at home and having a lot going on at the moment, rather than being at work and blogging to make the day go faster before my brain starts to leak out of my ears for lack of use.

I have a feeling that this is going to take a lot longer to type out than I planned because I keep rushing to the window every 5 seconds to see of the Australia Post man has arrived with my ASOS order. I may or may not be hysterically excited to have some new clothes.

And speaking of hysterical, since my hysterical post about baby names, things have happened.

Specifically, a miracle has occurred. We have chosen a name for our baby girl!

When The Man got home from Sydney, I may or may not have burst into tears at the sight of him. Miss 3 was attached to him until sleep loosened her grip.

Can you tell we're a household of needy females?? I know, it's tragic - I should be teaching Miss 3 to be independent, how not to need a man in her life, and to change her own spark plugs. The only trouble is that I hate being independent, I absolutely need The Man in my life and I wouldn't know where the hell to find the spark plugs in our car if I had a diagram and the car came fully labeled (despite being the daughter of a mechanic...oh the shame!).

Once Miss 3 was in bed and we had time together, I broached the subject of names again. Before I even had a chance to say that I actually wanted the name we originally chose and I didn't give a rats bum what anyone else thought, The Man piped up with "I don't care what anyone says. It's our daughter and we have chosen her name because we love it. We're not asking for anyone to agree with us, we're asking them to respect that we've chosen a name we think is beautiful and that's all that matters."

I didn't really have anything to add to that verbally. So I just cried a bit more.

The Man understood it was a supportive sob, and with that we had gone back to our original plan and our baby girl will have a name that we chose for her out of love.

And that's the most important thing.

Secondly, further progress has been made on baby's room, with *flushing going on the walls. It's starting to look like a real construction zone - and this makes me happy.

Coat 1 of 3. All 3 coats have since been completed. *Flushing is now a word that I no longer associate specifically with the functions of a toilet.

Despite the out-laws declaring that I am a drama-queen for wanting the room complete 2-3 weeks before bub arrives, the FIL has followed through and the electrician will be here tomorrow! I am so pleased about this fact I don't even have anything snarky to say about it.

On Wednesday I spent far too much time in Bunnings staring at a rainbow-on-crack wall of colour samples. It started out as a fun idea, which soon turned to terror when I realised that I actually had to make a choice.

Anyone who knows me, knows that making a decision is the one thing that will mentally cripple me.

I finally decided it required time to sit down and ponder while Miss 3 had a blast on the indoor playground.

Almost 2 hours later I ended up with 7 samples out of 8 colours I 'narrowed it down' to. I would have had 8 samples, but the last colour didn't come in anything less than 1 litre, and I thought that might be a bit much just to paint a small square.

But can I just ask one thing? SINCE WHEN IS WHITE NOT ACTUALLY WHITE?! Seriously, I've put one of the samples on the wall and it's bloody GREEN people! What is with that? It looked white in the shop. Why is it not white now I get it home?

Top Left Hand Corner - it's GREEN!! Why was it even in the white section!?

I sure as hell don't have this problem when choosing finger paint colours for Miss 3.

In other news Miss 3 is really loving our new lifestyle of doing lots of things together and so am I. I'm constantly in awe at the speed she absorbs everything around her, and I swear her vocabulary is greater than mine!

The only bummer is that she loves to start the day bright and early when The Man leaves for the office. I, on the other hand, am keen to sleep for as long as I can and the getting up early thing just doesn't float my boat.

Sleep is a bit hit and miss at the moment - that elusive comfy position is a bitch to find, but once I get there it's awesome. I just wish it was the same spot every night! I'm a tummy sleeper by nature, and pregnancy is in direct contradiction of this fact.

As a result the nanna nap has made a regular appearance whether I want it or not.

Thank god for the numerous kids channels on Austar. They are a nanna napper's best friends and they also mean the carnage is limited to one area of the house while I'm passed out on the couch. Trouble is, I usually end up 'napping' slightly longer than I plan. And so my eyes suddenly spring open and my brain immediately goes into overdrive...

'Holy crap how long have I slept? Shit, is it dark yet? Oh my god why is it so quiet!? Right, plan of action is to stand up, stumble around and pray you trip over your still alive 3yo. Ready? GO!

Picture Credit: Allie Brosh, Hyperbole and a Half via Google search

Yes, cartoons are awesome, but we know they'll only entertain for so long while you snort and drool in your sleep...even if it is in the same room as said child.

Regardless of how much energy I do or don't have, ironing specifically remains the one task I LOATHE. I've had clean washing piled on a chair in the lounge room for days and I can't find the motivation to iron it. But I'm also attributing this to mental exhaustion as I've been helping my Mum with some of her essays for uni.

Holy freaking shite has it been a long time since I've had to write an essay - let alone write one that makes sense when 95% of my brain cells have abandoned me. And to be honest, I spend most of the time being indignant that all this 'writing an essay like you swallowed a thesaurus' is supposed to make a person a good nurse.

Yeah, because a patient will overlook the fact that you're an arse-hat with no empathy or love for the job if you can swan around and speak like a Professor in arse-hattery.

But sadly my ability to roll my eyes at all the bullshit involved in obtaining a degree is of no assistance. If it was, I'd have a degree in everything.

AND I WOULD RULE THE WORLD!!

Ahem.

Otherwise, we've just been plodding along and making the most of the time Miss 3 and I have left as just the two of us. It involves lots of time in the pool, baking more than I have in my entire life and being far more arty farty than I thought was possible - mixed with a healthy dose of over-attention for the cats, chickens and the general outdoors.

Loving every minute of it. Except when it's 6:30am.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to hover around our front windows in preparation of throwing myself at the first Australia Post truck I see.

Riding in Cars with Boys...

Last night, I hit a new low.

The shame is still imprinted on my brain and I'm not sure I'll ever be able to look my husband in the eye again...or, at least, not until dinner time tonight. Especially if he's cooking.

I had thought the worst of this 24/7 morning sickness was over.

I was wrong.

Terribly, mortifyingly, wrong.

The day had started out badly, with my head in the toilet. This was an omen, and I didn't pay attention...

********************************************************************************

It began as a normal ride home from work. Rather than taking 2 cars, we decided to travel together since The Man was actually going to finish at a reasonable time. It was nice not to have to drive in the peak hour traffic.

Everything was fine - I was checking Twitter and Facebook, catching up on what I had missed throughout the day. Suddenly I paused, as the familiar feeling of queasy churning began. I took deep breaths, I put the air vent on my face for the cool air and I tried to focus on something else.

The rising panic told me I had to find something fast. There was no time for deep breathing and cool air - this was the time for frantic action!

If we had been in my car, there would have been a plastic bag available. There also would have been easily cleaned leather seats. But we were in The Man's car, and the only thing I could find was the cardigan on my lap and everywhere I looked all I could see was Subaru emblazoned, absorbent material laughing in my face.

This was going to be bad.

We were on the highway - nowhere to pull over as we were stuck in the far lane and traffic was bumper to bumper. I could have put my head out the window, but in my panic I know I would have forgotten to turn away from the wind and it would have blown back in my face.

This was going to be traumatic enough without adding that kind of scarring experience to the mix.

I should have thought about the cardigan better. Tried to fashion some sort of cloth 'bucket'. But before I knew it the muscle reflex from hell kicked in and I crammed the cardigan up against my mouth.

And from there the day unravelled at lightening speed.

For a moment I thought perhaps it was just a reflex and nothing came out - until I wondered why I couldn't see through my glasses anymore and why the mess was hovering before my eyes.

Something was dripping down both arms.

Something warm was slowly making its way down my cleavage.

Then another wave came.

Oh, shit.

The Man kept saying "don't panic, it will be okay, don't panic!" over and over. I think this mantra was actually more for his own benefit than mine.

He's not good with vomit.

With every wave it spread further - it sprayed onto the sun visor! If I hadn't been so horrified by what was happening, I probably would have been impressed with the leverage I was achieving with every heave.

I could feel the car moving faster and faster. I think at one point we were air-borne as The Man tried to get us home before it could get worse. I'm not sure how it could have been worse, but it's the thought that counts.

As we screamed into the driveway, of course the heaving finished. Even in my lowest moment the irony was not lost on me. Miserable, fucking, irony.

I stood in the yard, and The Man hosed me down like a prize winning horse that had just vomited all through it's trailer. I am all class, and this day was no different. And it got better once I stripped off to my knickers and bra so I could get into the house without dragging a trail of mess behind me to the shower.

Thank god for high fences and privacy screening.

In the shower I started to scrub. I was only removing stomach contents, but I was trying to scrub away the memories, too. A 'two birds, one stone' scenario. The milk and honey smell was soothing but it took me a moment to gather my thoughts and remember to take my glasses off. Clearly I was so traumatised I decided looking through a veil of my own vomit was perfectly normal.

See, all class.

I emerged from the shower 20 minutes later, red raw from scrubbing. The Man came back upstairs, his hands red raw from scrubbing the terror out of his car.

The car now smells like pine-o-cleen...and a bucket has been installed for future trips. If I'm ever allowed back in the car again.

*********************************************************************************
The Man has a renewed glow about him today.

His macho-ness is proven through his ability to drive his vomit encrusted wife home, hose her down, get her into the shower and then clean his vomit encrusted car - all with minimal fuss and only a few gagging episodes.

Although it did take him a long time to come to bed...

Image from Here

The 'To Do' List...

I'm a planner.

I love lists and calendars and diaries and reminders and pin boards - it has absolutely no effect on my ability to be on time or even be somewhere on the correct day, but I love to feel like I have everything written down and a time line to apply in the forseeable future.

The trouble is, I'm also very impatient. I hate waiting around - I hate waiting to go out somewhere. I always wait to get ready at the last minute so when I'm finished we head straight out the door and we're on our way. Sure, it means I'm always forgetting something, but I don't like butterflies of excitement in my stomach for too long.

Pregnancy, while it's an amazing thing and we have been wanting this second baby for so long, manages to capture everything I dislike about time and planning.

I have to wait 9 whole months to meet this new person. And not knowing its gender means I can't plan as I had hoped to.

It's killing me. I won't deny that I cried a little bit after our scan last week - having to walk away without the magic answer to my burning question was bitterly disappointing. And I only had the luxury of focusing on that one point because everything else with our Jelly Bean is perfect. 10 fingers, 10 toes and a button nose just like its big sister.

Perhaps it's the universe telling me to take a 'chill pill' and stop being so uptight about it all. That having spent the weekend playing memories over and over in my mind, as I drag out the tubs of baby clothes from Miss 3, would have made no difference to my life today. I would still be here at work doing what I'm doing, whether I knew what we're having, or not.

The only thing different would have been this post.

The kicks I'm feeling make me smile, but serve to remind me of everything that we need to do before Jelly Bean arrives. Although I must confess the line between 'need to do' and 'could do but it's not absolutely necessary' is gone blurred, but this is where my love of lists comes in!

In no particular order, I present:

The To Do List

• Conclude the gender debate and ask the Obstetrician to check at our appointment in July!
• Don't get upset if we still can't tell what we're having, just accept that this child will be as stubborn as you are.
• Replace front decking
• Install new gutters
• Pressure clean all decking and oil before the wet season returns
• Finalise Miss 3's enrollment for school (because enrollments for 2014 are already filling fast at the school we've chosen!)
• Replace wall to create 3rd bedroom/study
• Decide on theme for baby's room
• Paint baby's room
• Find wardrobe/chest of drawers for baby's room
• Bring cot and change table upstairs from the store room and re-assemble
• Buy new cot mattress
• Sort through baby clothes from Miss 3 OR buy boys baby clothes
• Wash baby clothes, fold and put away
• Organise bedding for cot
• Finalise lay-by of new pram, capsule, rocker and Miss 3's booster seat
• Make final payment to obstetrician (Sept)
• Finalise tax return for 2011-12 year
• Decide re: maternity leave options from work
• Decide re: maternity options from the Government (i.e. baby bonus or maternity leave scheme?)
• Complete pre-admission paperwork and return it to the hospital
• Finalise meal plan for The Man and Miss 3 while I'm in hospital
• Cook and freeze meals for The Man and Miss 3 for my own peace of mind...

These are the things that linger on my mind the most - the smaller things I'll probably make another list for and fit them in as I go along. Because that's how I roll.

The Man says I'm too uptight about it all, and I know he's right. I doesn't mean I'll change, but I completely understand where he's coming from.

Especially when I'm busy having a panic attack over the fact that our child won't have a room and I'll have to strap it to the fan blades because I'm convinced The Man will be building the new wall on my due date. Conveniently overlooking the fact that the cot could go in our room if necessary - but I'm overly dramatic when it comes to being in a flap.

It's part of my charm.

I'd like to believe I'm not the only obsessive-compulsive, list making, perfectionist, nut-bag in this world. Please share your unhinged moments and we can all read over them with a cup of tea while breathing a sigh of relief that we're not alone...

How to get flowers from work to home with minimal fuss...

Carseats - not just for children...

Reality Blogging

It's back!! YEAH!!

So...this is the result of me tidying the house and letting the Toddler do her own thing...

So the house may have been tidy but our child was now a walking Picasso - but I don't know that Picasso ever used a fine black felt-tip pen.

Needless to say the pen has been put in a place so safe I can't even find it anymore.

The thing that impressed me the most was she didn't get any on her clothes...clever girl knows that if Mummy soaks anything it just doesn't come back from the laundry.

Is there really a good way to say goodbye?

This week one of my colleagues resigned.

She is swanning off to Perth to live a life of luxury with her family. Sigh...I can only dream at this point.

I felt immensely special that she asked me how to write her letter of resignation. It may have only been because we share an office and she couldn't be bothered going out to reception to ask someone else, but I felt special all the same.

And it occurred to me - what is the best resignation letter?

Lately we have been belly-aching about work. Ergo, my suggestion was:

"Dear work,
F*^k off,
Love Colleague"

But it was decided that this may not be appropriate...what if she came back and wanted a job here (insert snorts of laughter)?

Another option...

Again, this may give the wrong impression...no matter how close to the truth it may be.

So we toyed with the idea of letting work down gently.

"Dear work,
You are the light of my life, and you have made my working life so joyful and fulfilling that it makes my husband and children seem almost pointless when I have to return to them. I'm not sure how to tell you this, but I'm leaving. It's not you, it's me. I will always think of you fondly and remember the good times we had, but the time has come for me to move on.
Please don't be sad, we will still be close and you can check on my progress through my Facebook page.
All my love,
Colleague"

But sickly sweet doesn't quite cut it either. And just writing that took 20 minutes between the retching and hysterical mirth it induced in the room.

And so we come to the obvious choice of today's workforce.

TWEET IT!

Wait...work doesn't have Twitter, and we can't access it over our internet connection. Something about social networking sites being blocked...ignore the fact that I'm blogging...

Well, I suppose standard and boring is the best choice, but perhaps we can spice it up a bit?

"Dear work,
It is with regret that I advise my last working day will be 19 November 2010. It has been a pleasure working here, but our family has been given an opportunity elsewhere that we would like to take.
I thank you very much for the turmoil of 2 major resturctures and the fear of redundancy in as many years, and my post-traumatic stress counsellor thanks you for the business. My husband and children thank you for the opportunity to walk on eggshells around me for fear of what might have happened at work to set me off, and hope that you're able to find someone else to mentally cripple quickly and easily.
If the opportunity comes to work with you again, please feel free to pass the opportunity to another unsuspecting fool person to enjoy.
I wish you all the best for your future endeavours to mentally incapacitate the remainder of the workforce.
Kind regards
Colleague

Ah, there we have it.

Now, where's the email for HR??

Friday Fluff

Ah, Friday Fluff. I look forward to you every week.

Not only are you a great excuse to post further pictures of my most amazing little girl, you are also a sign that the week is almost done and I've got some slob time coming up!

WOOHOO for WEEKENDS!

Phone calls to Daddy at work...these make little girls happy

Friday Fluff

Screw you Darwin City Council - give me ONE example of something about your street parking that is so special you think you should slog me $40 for overstaying my welcome??

Seriously - unless you're giving me shares in the fine revenue, this is just demented.

And yes, I think it's disgusting that you've doubled ALL street parking costs. Especially since I nearly got run over by one of your manical parking inspectors on his scooter of death. Obviously in a hurry to fine the next poor, unsuspecting car owner - so much so that pedestrians are just speed humps on legs.

Greed is very unattractive...just so you know.

Friday Fluff

Nutella - Making babies smile since...forever!

Friday Fluff

Cotton buds - I've Checked Mummy, and there's absolutely 200 in here...and did I mention Daddy totally hasn't been watching??

Just hook me up to the jumper leads...I'll take it from here...

I just found a hair. Yeah, I have lots of them on my head and 'down there'. But I found a hair where I really was hoping never to locate one.

(due doomsday music...and pictorial representation...)

Thanks Mr Google!

I mean, I always knew one day it might happen...but I was thinking maybe when I was about 85 and it would simply be that my eyebrows had migrated down my face due to lack of maintenance.

Speaking of which, I should really get mine done...I currently look like I have 2 hamsters living on my face...but I digress...

But to find a hair, that is independant and NOT part of my hamsters - I mean, eyebrows - is just purely unacceptable!

Does this mean that I will now have to ask the beautician to simply lather my face in wax and rip it off, rather than two neat lines above my eyes? Will I have to ask the Guru to share the mirror in the mornings while we shave our chins together? Because that's the kind of bonding experience I was really hoping to avoid with my husband.

I'll just have to skip the precise side of electrolysis and ask them to hook jumper leads onto my love handles and flick the switch. Yes, I may be completely hairless in the end (either from the electrolysis effect or simply the hair being burnt from my body), but a good quality wig these days can look fabulous. And I'd be saving money on the hairdresser having to style and colour my hair AND my chin.

I'll also avoid the danger of trying to shave my legs, shower, fend off 2 hungry cats and a busy toddler and balance all at the same time. It might not sound complicated, but the bruises on my butt and the shaving nicks in my legs would beg to differ.

General consensus is that if you've had a child, you're more likely to find rogue hairs due to hormones. But I haven't been pregnant for 19 months now. Has my rogue hair really been laying dormant for this long and only now decided to break free!? And I thought I was simply meant to get a 'snail trail' and then it all falls out after birth?

I'm not ready to have chin whiskers. I'm not ready to have whiskers of any description, much less those that enter a room and wave to people before I do!

And so, with great trepidation I will now have to enter my bathroom this evening, armed with my trusty tweezers, and rip this bitch out.

And if it has friends...beware...I have access to electricity.

Day of Awesome-ness!!

So today was proof that when a good day arrives, it arrives with it's possie in tow...

Okay, so I was late to work which was a bit of a bummer, but I didn't mind. In fact I hardly gave it a thought! And arriving at work I had to head into a staff meeting. Thankfully I'd brewed coffee at home and had it ready to go. I'm sorry, I can't have a meeting before 10am without copious amounts of coffee. Not if you want a reply that makes sense. Otherwise I'm quite happy to provide you with a load of nonsense about fluffy bunnies when you ask me about the budget ratio of training from 2009 to 2010.

On the bright side the meeting lasted 30 minutes. It was a record I may not live to see again. A bit like Hayley's Comet...and I do believe a small piece of hell froze over this morning as our CEO wrapped it up. Halleleuja.

I powered through work and finally decided to have my lunch break just after 2pm...wandered down to the local cafe and ordered. It was amazing but I scored the last croissant and the last banana caramel muffin. And if you had tried one of these muffins you would know why I would mug an old lady just to get one. Maybe. If she hasn't taken a bite out of it first.

So, ordered, paid and waiting for my toasted croissant to come out. And waiting. And waiting a little bit more. And then some more. And finally a small voice calls over the tables and mentioned something about flaming croissants and would I be interested in a toasted sandwich instead? Hey, why not. As long as it has ham and cheese I'm good to go.

The sandwich arrives, it smells lovely and I happily take it from the waiter. Who then hands me the cost of my croissant back. They refunded me because I had to wait. NICE!! Score $6.50 for me!!

Wandering back to work now with my sandwich, muffin and drink. Delivery person is dropping off some mags to a business. And gives me a free copy!! Woohoo!

Continuing on my way, work for the rest of the day is breezy and then it's hometime.

Earlier in the day I made the decision to temp to see if it helps with our TTC journey. And I managed to find a chemist in Darwin that has the thermometer I'm looking for. Head there after work and grab one so I can start temping in the morning. YEAH! Score one for TTC!!

I managed to contact the Salvo's about the couch we'd like to give them, which was our good deed for the week. It's nice to have one of those every now and then - even if earlier in the week you had no intention of doing anything that would mean you had a couch to give away...until you walked into Le Cornu and decided to pre-spend some of your tax refund!But moving on from that impulse buy...

The inspection of the house we currently rent went very well this morning and hopefully it will be rented out not long after we leave which means it will be easier on our friends. But it also means we can move up settlement on our new home and as a result will be moving in 2 weeks. Which is awesome, if not completely scary with how much packing we have to do between now and then! But completely worth the inevitable packing meltdown (I'm scheduling mine for the day before we move - so nobody call on Sunday 15 August because I'll be crying into boxes).

All in all it's been a fab day - had Chinese for dinner courtesy of the in-laws (YUM!) and am now contentedly thinking of finshing this up and heading for bed.

I sincerely hope my good mood and good luck continue for a while - at least until we've finished moving house! After that, anything goes - and if it's bad, it goes out the door...

Oh Motivation...Wherefore Art Thou?

So I have a lot to do around the house right now. In fact, you might say things have reached a critical point. A point where if I do something about it I will feel really good about myself. Or if I ignore it we will be living in a rubbish tip.

Okay, so maybe not a rubbish tip...but certainly some sort of untidy hole.
Sigh, where are housekeepers when you need 'em? Oh, right, in rich people's homes. Okay, back to reality.

The house is going to be inspected by DHA to see if they want to rent it since we're leaving ('cos we bought our own home! YEAH!) and as a result I am now feeling the development of my alter-ego...

Super-Mario-Cleaning-Nut.

The Guru has to work on Monday, even though it's a public holiday here, so I'll be on my own with the The Toddler. Which is fine...she's actually very good with a duster. Providing I move anything delicate/valuable/breakable/dangerous out of her way.

The Guru says he's glad to be out of the way. Poor guy - he really is helpful around the house but my alter ego seems to find his standards and hers are lightyears apart. It's better for him not to be here. He knows that, I know that and the cat's are planning a day out too so it should all run smoothly.

But why is housework so miserable?? Honestly. When did it become such a pain in the arse? I can recall doing chores for my Mum when I was younger and simply feeling proud of my effort and achievement. Now all I can think is 'Okay, now to stacking the dishwasher...no distractions...I am going to stack the dish...OH! A kitty!!'

I think I would rather pierce my nipples than vacuum right at this moment. Even washing is a misery, and all I have to do is stick it in the machine and walk away!

But I have set myself a goal of getting all the washing done tonight and then tackling the house tomorrow. I just can't be bothered worrying about fans and the like right now...although, if I do those tonight I don't have to do them tomorrow and it's one less chore to think of.

Super-Mario-Cleaning-Nut, welcome to the scene of the crime...we've missed you.

Remembering the good things...

The blog of a fried of mine made me think tonight. She made me think about all the things I have in life and reminded me of all the things I have to be grateful for.

Sure, I whinge that I'm still not pregnant again, and that I'm tired and lacklustre and just feel plain run down. BUT, none of that is a good enough reason to ignore everything I have to be grateful for. And as a result I've decided the I'm going to make a list...

 - I am grateful for The Guru and everything he brings to my life, including the chaos
 - I am grateful for The Toddler and the light she has brought to my soul since she was born. It's indescribable and breathtaking.
 - I am grateful for our god-daughters, Munchkin and Nao. We love them like they were our own and feel very special to have been chosen to be such special people in their lives, and the lives of their Mum and Dad.
 - I am grateful for our parents. Those supportive individuals who have let us make mistakes, helped us pick up the pieces, start again, choose our own path, listened when we whinged about it and cheered/laughed/cried with us through everything.
 - I am grateful to have a home, and a family within that home which would be different without them. Different in a terrible way.
 - I am grateful for our friends who have been steady and just..well...there. You're all amazing.
 - I am grateful that The Toddler has such amazing carers at day care who love her and make her feel safe until I come for her in the afternoon.
 - I am grateful to live in a country where my child has undeniable access to everything she needs, clean water, good food (and even bad!), healthcare, and most importantly, love.
 - I am grateful to be employed and to have a job with people I genuinely love to work with.
 - I am grateful to be sitting here knowing there is food in the cupboard and in the fridge...

Speaking of which - I am grateful to know that there is a Picnic in the Fridge which I can eat...right now if I want to...and that it will be yummy...

So all in all I think I have a lot to remember when I'm having a 'poor me' day - which really shouldn't occur because according to this (and the longer list I have in my head but just don't have the space to type out) I have a great life with plenty to be thankful for.

So let's all have a glass of champagne and toast to remembering the good things...

Insomniacs Anonymous

Well - I thought I would spend the last 15 minutes of my 'awake' time writing this. Because I promised myself that I would find a way to go to bed at a decent hour tonight. And as far as I'm concerned, if that's before midnight then I'm blitzing my bedtime record for this week!

I don't know what's going on - but I can't sleep. I do, eventually, but it's restless and it takes forever for me to doze off. Maybe I have too much rushing around my already full head?

Or maybe at the moment I'm just a product of my environment? My environment being full of upheaval, emotion, frustration, anxiety and exhaustion. And we have so many decisions to make in the next few weeks I just feel like leaving a 'Be Right Back' sign on my life. Or like when the bear starts mauling the handler on a live TV show and the 'Technical Difficulty' screen pops up with the strange lift music. That's exactly where I'm at - I'm experiencing technical difficulties and we will return to our regular programming shortly. In the meantime, please enjoy this fine selection of bagpipe tunes...

I don't feel like running off for any terrible reason - I think I'm just feeling mildly burnt out. And being a bit crispy around the edges is making me a little sensitive to things that wouldn't normally bother me. But that's not surprising, it's a fine example of stress and anxiety. I am proud to be a typical specimen.

But I do want to get my spark back. It's been waning for a little while now and it's starting to be a bit of a downer. I much prefer the fully functioning version of myself. The Lite version of myself is a bit lacklustre.

But it will all be okay. Tomorrow is another day and I can have another crack at getting my shit together. And who knows, maybe I'll find a coin, pick it up and all the day I'll have good luck.