Letter to Bobbin - six months

Hey there baby girl,

You are six months old. SIX! Wowzers.

You have been up to so much this last month: you're commando crawling all the place but still hit and miss (much more miss) on your knees, and you've figured out how to sit up and play with toys as opposed to going to grab a toy and falling over.

If I had to describe your personality in one word, it would be Feisty. Yes, with a capital F. You sure do know what you want and make it known when things aren't going your way. You are such a happy baby, always smiling... until someone takes a toy off you.

Lately, when I try to put you in the pram to go for a walk or the car seat, you scream like a banshee. You hate to be restrained in any way, probably because you wriggle constantly. For the first minute in a seat you squirm and arch your back so I can't buckle you in, and then, when you realize I'm not actually leaving you settle down and grab your toes/Sophie the giraffe/the wrong end of the dummy and all is right again. I know you like to be worn, but c'mon, girl, I need a break sometimes.

I'm fascinated by the sounds you are making lately. Lots of consonants that your brother did not make for a loooong time. You say Dada quite a bit, but never in context, so we aren't actually counting it as a first word yet.

You've been having a few tastes of food and haven't been very impressed with anything other than bread, rusks, apple chunks and carrot sticks. I mooshed you up some goodies and I swear you gave me the evil eye.

You are a social butterfly and have the ability to make everyone feel so loved. If anyone pays attention to you, you lunge towards them, making your intention to cuddle them unmistakeable. Be they friends, family or even strangers that decide to say hello to you. Sometimes you'll lunge to one, turn around and see me, lunge back, see them, lunge back, see me, lunge back and so on. It is hilarious.

We hit a momentous milestone on Saturday - our first time apart for more than a half an hour. Mama went off to present for the Australian Writers' Centre (which I rocked, by the way) and you hung out with your Dad and brother for a few hours before meeting me for lunch, then hanging with the boys again for another few hours. You refused to take the bottle which was not the most fun for your Dad, but he's awesome and just gave you lots of cuddles until you could have some milky cuddles with me. 

The other day you went to yet another blog event, this time the ProBlogger mini event. You were fabulous, and barely made any fuss. You did, however, do a giant poo when the room was quiet and almost everyone heard. I don't think Darren Rowse heard though, so he would have just seen the back half of the room trying to stifle laughs and hoping his fly wasn't down. Sorry, Darren.

You continue to light the room and make everyone who meets you smile, especially me. Here's to another awesome six months.

Love, Mama xxx

Spendahoozens

I have my Spendahoozens on. I've been wearing them a lot lately. What are Spendahoozens? Well, I'm glad you asked (although you didn't really because there is a giant image up there, but I'll explain anyway):

In my family, whenever we go on a bit of a spending spree, we say we're wearing our Spendahoozens. You pop down the shops for milk and end up with a shirt, a kettle, a toy car and some weird decorative owl thing because it was gorgeous and 10% off. Shit you don't really need but get anyway. Or sometimes it is stuff you need, but those Spendahoozens aren't as fun.

My Spendahoozens have been on almost 24/7 lately. Fabulously they don't need washing since they're imaginary. Also, they make my ass look great.

I've bought a new (to me) pram (which was actually the wrong pram so now I've gone and bought another one and am selling the original), a nappy bag that I've lusted after for years, an outdoor setting, some play food for the kids, you name it. I don't actually have an income, so this is stuff that I really can't afford to be just buying because PRETTY! And yet here I am. Spendahoozens.

The wearing of Spendahoozens was precipitated by a sudden onset of Affluenza. I've never really had lots of lovely things in a lovely house that feels like mine *cue violins* so now that I do have this gorgeous house with beautiful floors that beg to be rolled on in the nikky naaa, I want the things in it to be faaaaabulous. Affluenza is serious. It kills. OK so maybe not, but still, how much of a wanker am I now? I get a new floor and all of a sudden I want a new lounge suite and dining table to go on it. I annoy myself. People are starving in the world and I'm buying shit I don't need.

I've always been the bargain girl. My clothes are from suburban department stores, not boutiques. My kids dress almost exclusively in hand me downs and I buy toys off Gumtree. I'm a regular at the Op Shops and I wait for sales for everything. We buy food in bulk and meal plan to prevent waste and therefore save money. But, a shiny new bag I'll just buy right now because SHINY NEW BAG!!!

This recent phenomena has come as a shock to many, not least of which, my wallet. My new pink  wallet. As it takes a battering I'm left wondering why I have this sudden urge to spend all the money I (don't) have. Now there's probably a tad of anxiety behind it, but I really think that the Spendahoozens are out in force because compared to dropping $100K+ on an extension and renovation, a $350 second hand pram seems pretty reasonable, really. And that $50 wooden play food set? Chump change.

I need to curb this spending ASAP. Is there an Affluenza vaccine? A trip to Africa perhaps? Help me stop!!!

Do you have Spendahoozens?

The Quiet Blogger and the Anxious Social Butterfly

The quiet blogger? Well that seems like a bit of an oxymoron. Can quiet and blogger even be used in the same sentence without setting in to motion a sad, slow, social media death? Let's see, shall we?

I'm quiet right now in my online space. I'm scribbling drafts but not hitting publish. I'm uploading a few pictures and statuses to Facebook but I've practically forgotten what Twitter is. And I don't apologize.

I took on "slow blogging" when Bobbin was born because PRIORITIES. But that word could very easily be swapped out for renovations, stress, PND, anxiety, life and even meh sometimes. But if I say priorities it makes me look better.

I do miss this little community, though. I miss the purging of thoughts. And I miss reading the anecdotes you share.

As an extrovert, I need to be around people and usually, whenever I'm feeling depressed or anxious I retreat in to a shell, let the real world go by without me and tuck myself in to this virtual space where it is safe and warm and there is Buzzfeed. I always feel worse but the effort to actually get out there and do something about it has seemed too great. Plus, ya know, Buzzfeed.

This time though, getting out and being with people is almost at the top of my priority list because the knock on effect is beneficial for all of us, though perhaps not for my waist line. Coffee date, anyone? So I find myself with play dates, morning teas, girls nights and meetings coming out my ears. And I'm loving it. I'm anxious as all hell, with nails bitten down to the nubs, but a full social calendar. The anxious and socially awkward social butterfly. Who knew?!

With the added OMG PEOPLE WILL JUDGE ME that comes with going out (yes, even with my friends because I'm loopy and lacking confidence and LOVE ME, DAMMIT!), and staying "in character" (read: in clothes that aren't jimjams) for so many hours a day, by the time I come home I am utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally.

When I finish putting the kids to bed, organizing the next days activities and have a shower, I'm so far past knackered that I have sore, swollen feet that I swear are just one hot day away from being cankles. On the few nights I feel like I have an iota of energy left, my old friend OCD gatecrashes my party and I must clean ALL TEH THINGS.

So this corner of the Blogosphere is quiet as my priorities shift and my life settles. And that is OK. A few years ago the lack of a new post would have had me sweating, but now, it feels good. It feels right to step back a little. I'm still here, just breathing, getting my shit together and trying to be a better person.

A letter to Tricky - on your first day of school

Hey Tricks!

Schoooooooooooooooooool! Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

You were beyond excited to be starting kindy today - so much so that getting you to stand still for a photo was almost impossible. You have asked how many sleeps until school starts at least fifteen times a day since December and announced it proudly over the phone to your Aunty Penny and Aunty Steffi when you called them this morning.

We went to an orientation day at the end of last year and you got in there and actually played. A year ago you wouldn't have left my side at all. You were still timid and reserved, not talking to the other kids, but you spoke to the teachers and you played right next to the other kids. When everyone sat on the mat and you followed the instructions it was so cute. When you raised your hand with your finger pointing to the sky I melted in to a giant puddle right there and then. All the cute! But I didn't know how you'd go when I left.

I labeled all your things, including the things it turns out I wasn't meant to label, because I'm a bit in to that sort of thing. Labels these days are just so freakin' cool, miles ahead of the biro on a piece of paper sticky taped to the side. Yours have jungle animals on them and I considered buying a set for myself and just labeling all my things, too. I also contacted your scrap book because contacting rocks my (labeled) socks.

Today you excitedly walked with me to school while your grandparents watched Bobbin. That way I could give you all my attention at such a special time. You were a bit shy but warmed up quickly and jumped straight in to doing jigsaw puzzles. You are a legend at jigsaw puzzles. When it was time for you to sit on the mat to officially start the day you gave me a hug and a kiss, I told you I was proud of you and that I'd be back to pick you up before 3pm. With that you spun around and looked at the teacher... that was it. No tears. No tantrums. No begging for me to stay. Dude, you absolutely rocked it.

When I came to pick you up, there you were sitting on the mat with your bag and hat, ready to go and the biggest smile on your face. You have not stopped talking about all the things you did, the kids you met, the toys you played with and the "racing track - a 'Hot Wheels' racing track, mum" you painted.

I am loving watching you come out of your shell, little guy, and it is so nice that now other people can see you for who you are - a funny, cheeky boy with an answer for everything! I am so proud of you.

Have a great year, mate, I love you.

Mama xxx