Children's Books

Does your child like books? Ever since E was born Teach and I have made an effort to read him a book every day to introduce him to the wonderful worlds stories create. More than anything it's also a very affordable form of entertainment, easily transportable and always crowd pleasing.

Spot books are his favourite, but Grug is up there as a strong contender as the bedtime book.

Today, while visiting the State Library, E found Dig Dig Digging, a book that combines his love of stories, bright colours and TRUCKS! Now the word truck is in capitals because as soon as his little eyes landed on the cover he squealed with delight, as if to say 'Oh My God....Twwwucks!'

Teach and I were in fits of laughter because we'd never heard anything like it. How could I resist such a sensational sound? I bought it instantly of course (spoiling him much?) and it's now been read close to 10 times in the space of half an hour. Obviously, the more convincing the sound effects, the more times you have to read the book. But that's OK with me. I couldn't think of a better way to spend time with E than reading a book that makes him laugh and come back for story time with Mumma and Dadda day after day. 

Which books do you read for your children? Is there one in particular you can't live without?

When Underwear Is Overdone

‘What size are you?’ the helpful sales assistant asked me. 

‘Um, 12 something,’ I said in reply hoping the woman could read my mind and know instinctively what I meant by ‘something’ so I didn't have to admit my small boob size out loud. To a stranger.  

‘You look like a B, but you could be an C,’ she said staring directly at my breasts as if her eyes could weigh and measure them in one scan. 

Ha! I laughed heartily on the inside. C. I wish! And with that, Roxy signalled for me to raise my arms so she could measure the circumference of my chest and back including Thelma and Louise – which, after 15 months of breastfeeding, look like two droopy, pitiful dog ears. 

‘Yes. 12B it is,’ she declared triumphantly with herself.

There I was, in a self-imposed hell, with my new friend Roxy at David Jones attempting to purchase a bra. I didn't care which bra, just as long as it wasn't covered in mould from breast milk stains and sagging at the nipples. 

You see, it has been close to two years since my last bra purchase as I have lived every day in the same three maternity bras. One black, one white and one flesh-coloured, all bought on the same day when I was approximately 5 months pregnant with E and growing at a speed of knots. 

I was so desperate to buy anything that fit and wouldn’t make me scream in pain with each body movement, so I selected three of the ugliest bras you could find and have worn them everyday since. Their mission: Satisfactorily accomplished. Now it's time for the bin.

Gee, I feel like a young child kneeling before you in a confessional, but it’s true. Two years! I can’t remember the last time I felt the silky touch of a La Perla undergarment between my fingertips as I daydreamed I could afford such an item on the way to the Bonds section. 

And why stop there, while down here helplessly in front of you, dear reader, I may as well admit it’s also been close to three years since I bought a pair of knickers. GASP!! Please don't tell anyone. 

But I wonder, is an admission of that magnitude as bad as revealing that I don’t brush my teeth before bed or I use the last of the toilet paper and don’t replace the roll? Apparently so.

A few of my girlfriends think not buying new underwear – bra, knickers or the like – every month or two should be punishable by law. And here’s why:

Friend A: ‘Eeeew! How do you respect yourself if you don’t buy new underwear every so often? Just buy a new pair with your weekly shop at Woolworths.’ 

Friend B (after she composed herself from the shock): ‘Are you serious? Doesn’t new underwear help you feel special for those moments?’  

Friend C (my personal favourite): ‘Do they offer any support or suck you in like they should?’ 

My response to all of them was the same, “I haven’t bothered to think about it while I’ve been playing Mum. It never crossed my mind that I should buy new underwear.” Obviously, that is, until now. 

One morning as I was getting dressed for work, I looked at my underwear draw with new eyes – or should that be with my Mummy eyes removed – and suddenly everything I owned seemed old, out-dated and plain daggy. 

Now E is down to one breastfeed a day and I’m planning to return to a routine that semi-resembles a life I once knew, and for some reason, underwear has become my clothing du jour to celebrate said transition.  

 

Now, while I’m not the kinda girl who spends $50 on one pair of briefs only to hand wash them and lay them on a towel in the shade to dry (who could be bothered?!), I will purchase several bras and pants of the same style and colour if I find they not only fit well, but will potentially last forever. I’ve even been known (to myself) to purchase designer underwear on sale if the tag reads: Machine Wash With Like Colours. Jackpot! 

But that was another life. This past year and a half I have been quite content sitting around the house in my granny undies. And who seriously cares if I do? Side note: perhaps this is another reason why I haven’t headed back to the lingerie section for some time? That and I’ve felt like Brittany Spears on hiatus of late (i.e. all junk food and no exercise or personal grooming of any kind). 

But that day, before work, a wave of embarrassment came over me and I headed to DJs on my lunch break.

“Try these on, and this and... this,” Roxy said handing me 4 different bras, French panties and a lacy camisole. 

I told Roxy I had run out of time and promised I’d be back the following day to buy the items she selected for me. I smiled, handed back the garments and left. 

I hated lying to my new friend, especially one who had supported me so nicely for those past few minutes, but she knew without saying a word, that all I wanted was a t-shirt bra and some comfy knickers to keep me going. She smiled back at me, knowing only too well I was headed for Target.   

She was right! Now I am the proud owner of more new underwear than I could have hoped for in DJs and I won’t need to go back until E’s at school. That’s 4 years away. Score! 

Image: Model Eva Herzigova in that Wonderbra Ad

Jewellery: Chelsea de Luca

Jewellery has always been one of those personal style pieces I admire on others but can never muster the courage to wear myself. Sure I have the standard gold hoop earrings, one or two silver rings I can't live without and a little silver cuff I wear every now and then, but nothing that really stands out as a piece de resistance from my jewellery box.

Women who adorne statement necklaces, bold earrings and eye catching rings with a certain irrevence, are a wonder to me. You know the pieces I mean - exquisite jewels the size of the Hope Diamond wrapped in diamonds, pearls or even industrial metal dripping from ears, neck lines, wrists and sometimes barely staying on fingers because of its weight.

Yep, some chicks just have that incredible knack of pulling off statement pieces with a magnificent style and confidence that I find myself saying, 'I wish I could wear that.'

This happened again while browsing at Chelsea de Luca, a Brisbane jewellery designer who creates amazing one-off pieces that I have fallen a little bit in love with. Each design evokes classic old world charm with specific vintage inspired pieces. Sprinkled with Swarovski crystals and unique embellishments, you are sure to find a piece that will make any outfit sparkle. 

After some time in her flagship store on James Street, I had to be escorted from the building before I started to cry...it was all too beautiful for words - not to mention the pain I wanted to inflict on my credit card!

But would I wear it? Absolutey! For unique creations such as these, I would step out of my comfort zone and risk looking like a crazy old bag lady wearing everything she owns. Why? Well, I'm a little bit obsessed! Who wouldn't be? It's heaven sent!

Image: Chelsea de Luca

Havagdweekend

It was such a magnificent winter's day in Brisbane today (24 degrees!) that I can't wait to get out and about this weekend with my two favourite boys and enjoy the city's many outdoor offerings, including a little fresh fruit shopping at the West End Markets and a beverage or two at the Brisbane Powerhouse. 

If you're in Brisbane too and have a child (or know someone with children) under 8 years of age, I highly recommend visiting QPAC's Out of the Box Festival. My sister in-law and I took E this morning and had a great time (watch out for that post coming soon).

Kids can read books, hear stories, watch plays, walk through a Sticky Maze, bend and breathe at Baby Yoga, get moving to music and just have fun. The best part? Because the festival is designed for little ones, the wise crew from QPAC have provided Mums and Dads several Pram Stations where you can park your stroller for free if you don't need it between tents. Love that!!

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. Whatever you're doing. Here's a few things to help kick it off:

30 Days of Grateful

A Trio of Tales

Missed Hamish and Andy's Euro Gap Year premiere last night? See it here.

Grrrrr! I know a little boy who would love this.

Daddy, Buy Me a Pony

Decorate with JT. Seriously!

One Yummy Mummy and her adorable baby boy

Image from here

James Street - Brisbane's Shopping Mecca

Grab the girls for a day on James Street

“Shall we do EP first or S&B?” I asked my girlfriend as we pulled up in the car.

“Oooh...tough one. Let’s start at Sass & Bide, grab a coffee and then make our way up to Easton Pearson,” she replied. Deal! 

My faithful shopping companion and I had arrived for a day of retail therapy on James Street, Brisbane’s stylish oasis for Fashionistas, Fashion Die-Hards and us, the Fashion Wannabes. 

Located in Fortitude Valley on the north side of the CBD, James Street is the Queensland capital’s equivalent to Sydney’s Oxford Street and Chapel Street in Melbourne, and today it was our playground. Yippee!

As we entered the double-glass doors of Sass & Bide (Cnr James & Doggett St) we realised we might need more than a coffee to keep us going, because our arms were full of goodies and we’d only just started.

After deciding on a bright orange statement necklace (her) and a stunning ruby red Tee (me) we picked up two espressos to go from Jamie’s (Cnr James & Robertson St) and headed straight to James Lane (65 James Street), an enclave of boutiques alongside the main street. 

Made up of FrockShop (the online store’s first Australian retail space), Jules & Roc, Vanguard Design Boutique, Nat-Sui Shoes and many others, James Lane is a style hub in its own right.  It’s also home to Paul Hunt, a Brisbane couture label gaining international attention for its bridal gowns.

Taking full advantage of the buzz of caffeine, we crossed the road to try-on jeans in French Connection (50 James Street), embellished skirts at Easton Pearson (60 James Street) and amazing dresses in Kisses (50 James Street) - a much-loved boutique dedicated to offering a range of gorgeous women’s fashion including Collette Dinnigan, Paige and Josh Goot.

Remembering I had to pick up a birthday present for my Mum, I turned back towards Libertine Parfumerie (181 Robertson Street), a Parisian inspired boutique for world-class fragrances, while my fashion-savvy friend continued her way up James Street to drool over the shoes in Gary Castles Sydney (73 James Street) and admire one-off samples in Leona Edmiston Vintage (60 James Street entry via Arthur Street). 

Apart from the international designers and leading Australian labels (think Witchery, Mimco, Scanlon and Theodore, ksubi, Alexis Dawn etc...) that make up the fashion landscape of James Street, the area originally found success in the 90s as a place for well-to-do locals to purchase luxury home wares and see independent films at the cinema.

Today, the shopping hub offers visitors a skilful mix of food providores, independent art galleries, spa retreats, award-winning restaurants, and of course, fabulous fashion. But it was a satisfying glass of Sauvignon-Blanc at Cru Bar & Cellar (22 James Street) that provided well deserved respite for two shopping-tragics at the end of a very fashionable day.

“So, same time next week for the other half of the street?” I asked. “Absolutely, I’ll drink to that!”  

Image provided by Tourism Queensland

Sleeping Beauty: One Tired Parent Gets Sleep

Holy schmoly it's been three (yes 3!!) weeks since this Mumma put her child back to sleep without the helpful aid of Thelma and Louise, aka Mummy's Milk Bar, aka Mrs Funbags, aka Mole Hills formerly known as Mountains.

You read that correctly my dear readers, I haven't breastfed E back to sleep in three weeks and we are on track to achieve a solid 12 hours sleep - Teach and me that is!

You're all well aware of the trials and tribulations Teach and I have gone through in the past 12 months. Sleepless nights. Constant waking. Not to mention one attempt after another to cut the apron strings, give a little tough love and teach E to sleep without my help. Pffft! Silly me for trying, right? Why would E want to learn how to sleep when he had access to the 24hr Milk Bar with no running tab! It's every man's dream.

Oh, yeah! We were rockin' and rollin' all night long, hoppin' and boppin' and singin' a song. Only after weeks on end of rockin' every half hour, this Little Mumma and her Big Boppa needed to hang up their dancin' shoes and pack away E's party supplies.

But I was petrified. How on earth do I make the change? Can I stop feeding E at night immediately or do I wind it back slowly? How do I know he'll be OK?

I couldn't read any more books telling me what works for other Mothers. I appreciated hearing the various case studies, but I desperately need to talk to someone about my situation and gain tailored advice. So I contacted Jo Ryan from BabyBliss for a half hour telephone consultation and hung up feeling empowered, confident and committed to making a change.

Teach and I discussed what Jo recommended and both felt it was the best thing to do for all of us. Before we put it in motion, we told E.

I don't know why I felt this part of the process was important, but Teach and I agreed that we should prepare him as well as we could. He understands other topics we talk about like birds, cars and books so why wouldn't he comprehend that Mumma wasn't going to bring Thelma and Louise out at night anymore? I wrote down Jo's advice and over several nights (between the half hour wakes) he would hear that the end was nigh but everything would be OK. 

E took to the changes like Russell Brand takes to a pretty blonde girl. Very quickly and with 100% enthusiasm.

On the first night he obviously vented his anger and frustration, but we made our way through it and surprisingly had a good night sleep - at least four consecutive hours. Bliss!

From that moment we haven't looked back. But don't hate me just yet, E will still wake once or twice at random times during the evening, but who doesn't? It's almost as if he wakes to make sure we know he's there, then he rolls over and promptly returns to sleep like the amazing little man that he is.

Woo Hoo!! Three weeks and counting. I can feel a girls night coming on!

In all seriousness, our sincerest thanks to Jo for her support, guidance and encouragment. We couldn't have done it with out her.

Tattoos

Do you have a tattoo? It seems so many people have at least one these days I think I'm starting a trend NOT having one.

Tattoos have never concerned me. You have one? Great. You don't? Whatever. I truly believe it's each to their own if you decide to ink up or not. Despite not having one myself, I've always admired them.

They can be tasteful, artistic, sweet (see image above) and very creative. I know one certain gentleman (knickname sounds like Beach) who has two. One on his left shoulder blade and one on his upper right arm. Both of them are very symbolic to him and tell a story from a time in his life. I admire his conviction and genuine desire to communicate that way, but a tattoo one me? I'm not sure.

From footballers wearing sleeves of them, to celebrities inking their necks, shoulders, feet, back and (insert body part here), you can't swing an iPhone without it hitting someone with a tattoo. Therefore I wonder, do tattoos have the same edge and rebellion associated to them as they once did?

As my 30th birthday approached...*cough*... a few years ago, I considered offering my wrist to a tattoo artist to symbolise the start of a new era. I also asked Teach if I should get a tattoo to mark the birth of our son 12 months later. His response was simple yet effective; "If you really wanted one you would have one by now. Don't get one because you think you should. It has to be for the right reason and suit your life. You can't wash it off."

So true. So I didn't.

Have you got a tattoo?

Image: Pinterest

10 Phrases To Live By

With the washing-up done, floor vaccumed, clothes washed and beds made, I'm staring at my computer screen trawling through a never ending supply of inspirational blogs daydreaming of the life I wish I could create for myself. Then I came across this fabulous post and decided it was time to Be My Own Hero!

To capture the spirit of the moment and share my motivation with you (and perhaps inspire a little courageousness of your own) here are ten fabulous phrases I love and hope to live by:

1. Follow your passion. It knows where you should go. 

2. You have to put something out there to get something back. 

3. Make your own path.

4. Build your days around what is important to you.

5. Ignore doubters, even when they're in your own head.

6. Collect experiences, not things.

7. Look at your goals everyday.

8. Nourish your mind and body.

9. Never top learning and experimenting.

10. Everything you want and need is up to you to make it happen.

Motivation was found in this Manifesto.

Happy 1st Birthday Mummies!

A little over one year ago I decided to take the plunge and join a Mother's Group. You might remember the high levels of anxiety I felt before I finally signed up to a group. Convinced I'd have to suffer through hours of sipping green-tea infusions, always having to dress in my Sunday finest and wear a full face of make-up just to join the ladies at the park, I was a nervous wreck by the time I made it to our first play-date.

Ok, so I might have sipped a few Flat Whites here and there (c'mon I love my coffee!) but overall I've had a delightful time getting to know approximately 35 other Mummies, watch our children develop and revisit places in Brisbane I'd forgotten existed since the day a small child was born, promptly attached itself to my breasts and called the shots in my life henceforth. 

To celebrate our special milestone and give ourselves a little pat on the back for surviving one year, we recently got together for a BBQ lunch and drinks in the park. Despite the rain, a great afternoon was had by all.

 

 

Here's to another year! 

Are you busy?

How busy are you? Please select from the following:

A) I don't have enough time to scratch myself.
B) I might be able to juggle one more ball in the air but only on a Sunday between 9am and 9.15am.
C) Pffft! Busy? You don't know the meaning of the word. I've been busy since I screamed my way out of my Mother's womb!
D) Yeah man, I'm like busy just being, you know.
E) Don't ask me to do another thing!

My answer? F. None of the above! I'm not that busy. It's a fact. I have many things to do in one day but I get it done. No questions or complaints. Why? Should I be more busy?

I realised how non-busy I am while watching those delightful (read: annoying but I couldn't be bothered turning over) infommercials on morning TV. In the space of 30 minutes I was told, not once, but three times how my life is totally out-of-control busy. 

According to the big-smiling, big-teethed, big-haired people on these ads, I am so 'time-poor', 'under pressure' and 'extremely' busy that I simply CAN NOT live without a steam mop, a juicer, a metal object that moves furniture 'effortlessly' and a ladder that bends 10 ways. Gosh! I knew something was missing in my life but I had no idea it was a ladder that could easily reach from my car to the obscure corner kitchen cabinet via the washing machine. How stupid of me! I must buy one instantly.

But then, I put my credit card down and thought, am I really that busy or do I just think I am because that's what I have been programed to think?

I'm not arguing that people can't be busy. I know much better than to do that, plus I've seen the effects stress from a busy life can have on someone. I simply want to ask the question, haven't we always been busy?

I'm sure my Grandfather was busy in 1960 raising a family of seven, working full-time and managing it all as a widow. But did anyone stop to tell him how busy he was? No! He got on with it. And so do we.  The only difference today is we have more handy 'time-saving' tools to help us navigate from one busy appointment to another.

Yes, the invention of the Internet, mobile phones, laptops (insert all technological advancements from the past decade here) and a plethora of household appliances have all made a valuable contribution to society, not to mention the way we live, but that's the way the world has always been. It has developed, evolved and changed because man (by that I mean the human race) is intelligent and wants to engage in new and exciting pastimes. 

Did we all become busier with the invention of the wheel? Did we suddenly lose our ability to be organised and time-savvy when we introduced phones in to our homes? Gee... thanks for that Mr Bell! Telephones are such a pain in the ass and add so much more to my busy day! Let's not mention back in those days you had to be connected by an operator - imagine the time that would've taken. Now we push a button or just say the person's name and they are called instantly.

I don't believe I am any busier than my grandfather was, but our lives are made up of different priorities, priorities that we place a certain level of value on once we decide if it is worthy of our time.

For exmaple, if I didn't believe going to the park with E was valuable I wouldn't put the time in to doing it. If I didn't value the creative freedom and pleasure writing this blog brings me I wouldn't find time in my 'busy' day to work on it.

No matter what you do with your life, it is my belief that if you find some level of value, pleasure or meaning from that task - you will find the time to do it. Busy or not.

The more we're told how doomed we are because we are all so inexcusably time-poor,  I feel like we may as well all pack up and head for the hills now and make time slow down. Just imagine the fury hell will unleash on us when we do all...Eek!...run out of time!! (A concept best left to someone far more superior than I to discuss. Stehpen Fry perhaps?)

Needless to say, after half an hour of hearing how I had to change my life because I am so busy, I felt compelled to yell at the idiot promising 'instant results' with his Fat Blaster Powder, 'I'm NOT busy! I'm lazy, sleep deprived and emotionally exhausted you moron!' Now that's a sales pitch I'd love to see on morning TV.

Image sourced from here.