Quarter Centch..

Well, its everybody's worst nightmare. Turning another year older! Today I hit the big 2,5. I was impressed when I woke up this morning that I hadn't sprouted any grey hairs or developed any wrinkles overnight, so thats a win!

Today has made me nostalgic. Thinking about how simple life used to be when I was younger. Realising that what I thought was difficult or hard was a mere bump in the road on my journey to adulthood. I had no cares, no bills, no debts and nobody depended on me. The thought of being an adult excited me, and I wished my years away counting down the days till I officially became one. Then, on my 20th birthday, I actually cried because I wasn't going to be a teenager anymore. The realisation that I really had to grow up.

My day started with the most lovely 6am wake up call from my darling beautiful boy. In he raced, telling me "suns up mummy you have to wake up". I have told him that when the sun goes to be then he needs to go to bed and he is only allowed to wake up when the sun comes up. I managed to grab him and put him under the dooner with me. We lay there and cuddled and talked for a good half an hour. It was total bliss. I asked him if he knew what today was. He replied "its mummy's birthday!!". He then proceeded to tell me that he was going to eat all of my cake and I wasn't going to have any. Ever the charmer my boy!

After his swimming lessons today, I had promised that we would go and have a nice lunch together to celebrate my day. That was until he cried - no wait, he screamed - for me the entire swimming lesson. I decided he must have been tired and that we would skip lunch and head home for a sleep. I had prepped the stuff to make up some sushi I just needed to stop in somewhere to find an avocado on the way home. Rookie error. It was the shopping experience from hell. After fighting and debating with him the reasons as to why we didn't need to play on every game machine or ride we walked past into the supermarket I ended up dragging him in kicking and screaming. Finally I managed to locate the avocados, with the feral protesting in-tow, only to discover that they were not ripe and completely inedible.  Just my luck!

Next mission was to remove said feral from supermarket. After throwing himself on the floor, refusing to leave I had no other option but to pick him up and throw him over my shoulder and carry him kicking and screaming out the door. I noticed several women of various ages frowning in disapproval at my parenting skills. I would have loved nothing more that to give them a spray as I walked past, but today is my birthday and I was determined to not let them or my feral almost-three-year-old ruin my day.

To top off my day, after arriving home and trying desperately to read him a story to put him to sleep, he kicked me in the stomach and punched me in the eye. Now I'm sitting on the couch watching Twilight and eating frozen yoghurt, waiting ever-so-patiently for my man to come home from work so that I can open my presents. They better be bloody good, just quietly!! Then I'm going to find the energy to hit the gym before I induce myself into a food coma from dinner. I plan to live a little, eat a lot and probably make myself spew on my birthday. Sounds like it could turn into a peachy little day, minus this morning saga! Bottoms up peeps xx

Resolutions...

Well here we are! 2013 who would have thunk it? We survived the End of the World, Christmas and New Year and are now all have bills coming out of our rear-ends. Merry fucking Christmas everyone!

With the new year comes a whole bucket load full of resolutions. So far, my biggest resolution was to complete what was on the list from last year; be healthy, exercise more, eat less sugar, save money, travel, be happy.

I started my year hung-over as shit, broke, and lying around the house for 3 days watching every season of Friday Night Lights and eating every take-away under the sun- WIN! You go girl! (Please note I was childless for 5 nights - this isn't a regular occurrence with child present!!) So with the feeling of inadequacy, fatness and brokeness I began my resolution on Monday 7th January. Insurance bill paid, and half of my credit card debt cleared things were starting to look up. I had money in the bank from work (well enough to buy groceries.. sigh) and I was keen as a bean to get back into the grind of my fitness routine. I'd also started a "detox" diet on the Sunday, so I was feeling pretty good. Still feeling great and going strong, minus the night where I lost my shit and ate half a cherry ripe.. My bad. I figure cherries are fruit, coconut is good for you and chocolate is dairy so I was just fulfilling my daily requirements from food table....

Another thing on the to-do list for this year was get a REAL tan - without the cancer. I'm white. Not just white, I'm practically see-through. Vampire-borderline-albino white. The sun literally hates me. Or visa versa. We're working on our relationship slowly, and after 4 days of trying my very hardest to go brown I'm proud to announce I'm a whole shade darker than I was on Sunday. Off-white with a touch of pink I'd call it.. To make matters worse, my son has also been spending time in the sun frolicking in our povo blow up pool in the nude, lathered in sunscreen and only for half the amount of time I have been trying and he has developed this beautiful golden sun-kissed look. Very frustrating for us albinos who have been slaving it out in the scorching conditions to get one shade of darkness.. So as I sit here typing, I've also applied a very light layer of self tanner to try and make myself look like I actually have been in the sun. Slightly cheating, yes, but when you look good you feel good so a little fake tan never hurt anyone. Unless your Lindsay Lohan, stay away from it honey.

Saving money is the pits!! I have 2 weddings to travel to this year, a trip to America to fund and a possible trip to Thailand, and hopefully a shopping trip to Melbourne. Im also saving for a boob job, nose job, teeth job, and liposuction.. Just gamon. But serious... So far, all this whole "saving money" resolution has done is made my online shopping addicition worse. I can't stop myself. I want everything. Shoes, clothes, jewellery! Gimme gimme.. Note to Josh Goot here - please be less expensive, I love you and want all of you but you are so far out of reach it makes me sick. The same goes for Tony Bianco, Maurie and Eve, Balmain, Sass and Bide, Bassike, Viktoria and Woods and Isabel Mirant - to name a few. I'm sure I've spelt a couple of those wrong, but if I could actually afford for you to be hanging in my wardrobe I'd probably know how you were spelt.. Think about that!

Final resolution is to blog more. I have lots to say.. But my baby is calling and I need to get my white ass to the gym, and to the supermarket to get food - wouldn't it be nice if food was free! Then I could spend that weekly $400 on clothes, not food. So today was short and sweet.. Love to all, just wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten about me! Keep up with the resolutions, next year you will have wished you started today..

And so this is Christmas!

Well here we are, December 2012. Only 15 days till the world ends. Hopefully we make it to Christmas!! I've spent too much money this year to be happy about dying a slow and miserable death because the world decides to destroy itself. So world, if you could at least hold off until December 26th that would be appreciated.. K thanks.

Anyway, it's Christmas!!! Hands down my most favourite time of year. I live for this shit. I'm talking Christmas floor mats, tea towels and even oven mitts, its decorations galore. My house could pass as the North Pole, minus the fact its literally a sauna in here and roughly around the 700 degree Celsius mark - with the aircons on.

Each year I tell myself I'm going to budget. I got this. Saving dollars yeah right. I am that big kid in the toy shop. I want it all. And most of the time I buy it all too. Now my credit card is about to spontaneously combust from over-use and its only 2 months old. Cue delivery of rates, electricity bill and gas bill. Merry effing Christmas Megan!

So this year Miss Organisation decided to put on a Christmas toy lay-by to be picked up on Dec 1st from KMart. ROOKIE ERROR. I fought every man, woman, dog and child through the decorations isle at the cheap shop (Scrooge I know) and then again at the lay-by counter. Luckily I had my mumma on deck to help with the kidlet and thank goodness for Donut King who can keep my childs mouth quiet with a big fat choc coated donut for 10 minutes. We conquered that shopping centre in record time. Well I did while mother dealt with kid. Amen sista! And as if I hadn't had enough of the hustle and bustle and complete and utter ignorance of people, I decided to take Cooper to see Santa a few days later.

I thought this year was going to be a good one. Cooper had told me on several occasions he wanted to see Santa and give him a big kiss and hug. Sweet, we're totally good this year. Waiting in line for half an hour it was finally our turn. Thats when Cooper decided that he actually wasn't going to go near Santa. Too late kid, it's now or never! After some idiocy on my behalf trying to get him to firstly take his hands off his ears and onto his knee, my next task was getting him to smile. I ended up paying $20 for a photo of Santa with Cooper sitting 30cm away with the biggest frown on his face. Thanks kid. Sorry family, thats all you get this year! Only two paragraphs ago I was saying how much I loved Christmas. I still do! Not including people in shopping centres and Santa photos. That still counts right?

No but seriously, I'm completely in love with buying presents. I love how it makes me feel and I love when people are surprised and thankful for the gift I've meticulously bought. And the fact that I get presents too is a pretty good excuse to be totally in love with this time of year. I love the fruit, lychees and plums yum yum! I love the food, rumballs, short bread and chocolate coated almonds get in my belly. I can almost foresee the scales on December 27th growing legs and running away at the sight of me approaching. Sigh!

So with magic elf and glass of milk in hand, I must turn in for the night. All this Christmas talk has worn me out. I need sleep, I am half way through the dreaded task of present wrapping. 7 meters of paper and 2 whole rolls of sticky tape down and I'm only half way there. Oh and just incase the fat man himself is reading this, this year I'd love some more perfume - Viktor Rolf Flower Bomb, a facial, a massage and some vouchers to clothes stores would be greatly appreciated. Or anything involving red wine and chocolate. I promise I've been a good girl this year, and I'm working on the swear words. Promise!

As I call it a night I'll leave you with a little something I read earlier that I'm sure all of you can definitely relate to:

"Dear Santa,
This year for Christmas I'd like a fat bank account and a skinny body. Lets not get the two mixed up like you did last year. "

A new form of contraception

Well who would have thought I'd have something to post about not even 24 hrs after my debut. The powers at be are definitely punishing me for what I posted about pregnancy and motherhood. Up at eff-off o'clock with Cooper cleaning up vomit from him and his bed. FYI spaghetti bol and 2 sipper cups of milk pre-bed on a gastro stomach does not make for a pretty picture, or smell for that matter. So mother off the year, cleaned him up and put him in bed with us because I was too lazy to change his bed, only for him them to throw up all over my side of the bed and naturally all over the only part of the sheets and dooner that were not covered with a towel or rags. I managed to rid the sheets of the chunks and drown it in fabric mist to make-do for Zach (my partner) for the night. I inevitably had to set up camp for Coop and myself in the lounge room. Of course, the sleep fairy decided I was done for the night and eventually I mustered enough energy to re-make Coopers bed. And finally after a few hours of staring at the ceiling I drifted off. Only to be woken again by a barking dog who was lucky she survived what was left of the night and then woken again at 4.30am when Zach got up for work.

So here I am, 3.5 hours of sleep under my belt and two full loads of washing vomit off sheets and towels and one very sick little man later. I still have another full load, I've just run out of room to hang it all. Ah the joys! But in all seriousness, it is a horrible feeling not being able to do anything to help your child when sickness takes hold. Feeling completely useless and being able to offer nothing but a hug, a kiss and reassuring words tugs heavily at any parents heart strings.

Which brings me to my next point. A few people commented on my first post that I have now offered the world a new form of contraception! It was not my intention to scare anybody off parenthood. But if I'm doing the world a favour and making people think twice before they "do it" then so be it. Being a parent is not something for the feint-hearted or weak-stomached. It takes time, effort, lots of money and plenty of patience. Don't let my stories of a terrible pregnancy and vomit and poo deter you from the amazingness of children. It really is my greatest accomplishment in life and I wouldn't change it for the world. Except maybe make the actual pregnancy all sunshine loppypops and glowing-goodness like its portrayed! I can't wait to do it all again, stretch-marks, morning sickness, childbirth, leaking over-inflamed nipples and sleep deprived nights and lets not fail to mention the hormones, dirty nappies and tantrums. The end result and good times far out-weigh the bad stuff. But dear god please let my next offspring be a girl. A pretty, dainty, flower-loving girl that can sit still and be quiet for 5 minutes without destroying my entire house, getting dirty or swinging from the ceiling fan if they are left alone for 10 seconds. Please and thanks.

Take One...

8.50pm on a Tuesday night and I'm actually sitting down writing my first ever blog post. This is something I've been wanting to do for a while now, something suggested to me by a friend after reading my facebook status updates, right back when I was enduring what felt like possibly the longest and worst pregnancy in the history of childbearing.. So that was probably getting onto 3 years ago now!

That's one thing about me. I'm consistently late, with everything. I'm late to work, late to lunches, late to dinners. I'm the person that's flying through the door to an appointment I've known about for weeks and the friend that is never reliable to be at that place we agreed to meet at that specific time. I like to think of it as "always late but worth the wait!" It's not my fault I swear, I've always been late my whole life. And no matter how early I wake up, or how early I leave the house or how prepared I am the night before I'm just always late..  Its something I have just gotten worse with (or better at, depending how you look at it) since having my son. No matter how hard I try, just getting from inside the house and into the car of a morning takes half an hour. I have no idea where the time goes in that half an hour and what one would think would be such a simple task, getting oneself and a 2.5 year old into the car in a mere 10 metre walk, proves time and time again to be a constant battle against the clock. It's something I'm working on, its been a work in progress for almost 25 years now, but I will get there one day.

About the only thing I have ever been early for is my due date for Cooper (my sons) birth. And that couldn't have come quick enough! I remember begging the Obstetrician to 'cut this blood-sucking monster out of me' somewhere around the 12 week mark. That was right at the point where it felt like I'd endured a lifetime of staring at the white porcelain of my toilet bowl and not being able to keep down one little tiny insignificant crumb of food. The stupid thing was I actually wanted it! I did it to myself and there was no turning back. Ok I obviously didn't do "it" to myself with some immaculate conception thing - but you get my drift! Luckily the morning sickness stopped and for a week or two I was actually enjoying being pregnant. Hell yeh I can do this! Nek minnit (sorry, had to do it!) you develop that awkward tummy where people are thinking "she's either put on weight or she is totes up the duff". Thanks to my father, most of Townsville already knew I was expecting. He announced it to the world when I was only 5 weeks. It was like 4TO broadcast it in their hourly news read. Thanks JG. Anyway, back to the part where your stomach gets bigger and you don't fit anything. Cue hormones. And wow maternity clothes suck! Someone needs to sort that to aid in decreasing the amount of hormonal bitches from mentally breaking down every time they try to find an outfit to fit over the ever-growing bump. That bump that literally sucks the life out of you while its in there and for the next 2.5 years (that's all I'm up to I'm sure it lasts until they leave home) the least they could do is invent something decent and not ridiculously over-priced to dress in!

Anyway continuing on with pregnancy, next came the nightmares, the sciatica pain, the middle-of-the-night cramps and the indigestion. Yay for being pregnant! Damn you Miranda Kerr and Giselle Bundchen (thats spelt wrong I know) for tricking every man and woman with-out child into thinking that pregnancy is glamorous. (Thanks to Fergie I can spell that word no problems!) Don't get me wrong. I love being a mum. My boy means the world to me and I can't imagine ever being without him. Its nice to give him up for a night or two to let my hair down, but I miss him crazy when he is gone.

So in closing, I wanted to create this blog to deliver a some-what humorous insight into life with kids. Its probably going to step well and truly over the lines of whats appropriate and whats not. Its also probably going to ruffle a few feathers, but it's me and it's my take on mother-hood. If you don't like it don't read it. I don't want people to comment and pass judgement on my abilities as a person and a mother. The intention is to make light of what seems like impossible situations and hopefully bring some enjoyment to the people reading it. Every day is a learning experience with children, for both them and us, and if one person out there can appreciate and empathise with my experiences and laugh about it then my mission is complete.

Finally, (I'm almost done I swear) just a note to child services incase they were planning on knocking on my door. I'm not the worlds worst mum, I'm sure there is way worse than me. I love my kid, he gets chocolate when he's good, and when I need him to shut up for 5 mins. I try my hardest to do the best for him even if that means he survives off chicken nuggets and chips, or macaroni and cheese (easy mac) for dinners (thats all he will eat!). And sometimes he might not go to bed till 8.30pm because it takes me that long to get my shit together. But I love him and he is alive and healthy and happy. I think I must be doing something right there.

Until next time, a little e-card that I'm sure most of my mumma friends can appreciate!