Archive for the ‘housework’ Category

I think I might have found my motivation?!

Yep, I think I may have just stumbled upon it! And of course it is in the least likely place.

This morning I got up early.

Now my son is a nightowl so I am not going to tell you our definition of early, it would just be cruel. But I am up and about while he is still splayed out taking up 3/4 of a queen sized bed (as only babies toddlers all children can)

But anyway…I’m up. My husband is thrilled to not be the only ‘creature’ prowling round the house at this hour (the dog is still asleep too!) I have eaten breakfast, (which in itself is a small miracle), the swim bag is packed, my week is planned, folding has been done, clothes have been taken off the line. So far I have done more this morning than I have the entire weekend 🙂

And I think I like it.

I too am a nightowl, I would much prefer to be up into the wee hours of the morning and then get a sleep in the next day. But my life with a toddler doesn’t seem to work that way. I used to be able to get all the household jobs done when my husband and I were home from work, after dinner and a bit of relaxing. Now, by the time my lovely husband walks through the door, I am hanging out for my ‘shift’ to finish, so I can have some time to myself. And after the little sample of me time, there is no way I want to get up and start housework. I pretend I will, but it never happens.

But today is a bright and shiny new day! I have even had time to write about it! So I want to know…am I the first person who has made this brilliant discovery? Where and when are you motivated? Do you think I can keep it up? And please, if you do this, please tell me I can sleep in on the weekends?…

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13 Little Luxuries

  1. A long, hot shower.
  2. Sweet, fresh grapes.
  3. Buying a block of the good Swiss chocolate.
  4. Wearing perfume.
  5. Sitting still and watching my children play together.
  6. Sleep for longer than a 3 hour stretch.
  7. Having the house all to myself for half an hour.
  8. A trip to the library.
  9. Not cooking dinner.
  10. Filing and painting my fingernails.
  11. Getting my family all dressed up to go out.
  12. Buying fabulous fabrics and imagining what to make with them.
  13. Slipping off baby girl’s mattress and sinking into my new mattress and feeling my whole body relax.

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others’ comments. It’s easy, and fun!

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13 Milestones of Parenting

”thursday-13″

1. The Emergency Shower…

Yelling “Come here quickly and take your clothes off!” to my husband and watching his face as he realised that it was never going to mean what it used to mean…now it meant getting in the shower to wash our son down after a ‘poo-nami’

2. The Poo Scoop…

Along the same vein as number 1. The horror of realising that your child has ‘number two-ed’ in the bath and the best way to get rid of it is to scoop it straight into the toilet with a bare hand. (Please note: My husband is very open to suggestions of better ways to deal with this situation)

3. The ‘Burmuda Triangle’…

Formally known as ‘the car’, the day you realise that toys, half eaten biscuits and odd shoes have all become part of the Burmuda Triangle in the footwell. Perhaps that’s where all the odd socks are too…

4. The Family Bed…

Anyone who tells you sleeping with a baby will kill any chance of romance needs to think outside of the box. While I know it’s not for everyone, there is nothing so special to my husband and I as waking up to our son’s big morning grin stretching across his face as he sees his favourite people.

5. The Public Tantrum Solidarity Nod…

Ok, I admit it. I used to be one of ‘those’ people in the shopping centre who always thought there must be a better way to deal with tantruming children. Now, I don’t pretend to know what parents should do…I just give a sympathetic nod of solidarity. There but for the Grace of God I go!

6. Time Share Toileting…

The day I left work to begin maternity leave I assured my boss that I would never, under any circumstances, allow a child into the toilet while I was in there. Two weeks later I was eating my words as I sat on the toilet, breastfeeding my baby. Ah, it begins…

Flash forward a year and we are still time sharing the toilet, only now my little boy sits on his potty and sings, until it’s time to press the button, clearly one of the favourite parts of his day. How can I deny him this very special treat?

7. The Public Stripdown…

This may occur if you unwittingly decide to try on clothes in a small change room with a gap underneath the door. Unfortunate timing may mean that your child crawls underneath and you find yourself with a major dilemma…the unwilling nudie run to retrieve them, or the child on the loose. Now I understand why people use strollers.

8. Those first few words…

They give everything away about your family. Smidge’s are:

“Tiggle tiggle” (tickle, tickle)

“Oooh look!” (along with pointing finger, which translates as “Mummy, tell me all about that!!”)

“Pat, pat, pat”

“Kiss Daddy, kiss Daddy”

“Blab-blab” (the new name for the dog. She even comes when called this)

And of course “Ooooh, gentle!”

9. The Mini-Me…

This is the day that you flashback to your childhood, when your own child does something so totally you that the last 25 years just drop away and you are the little boy laying on the rumpus room floor driving a Matchbox car back and forth as you rest your head on your outstretched arm. Grandparents love seeing these ones!

10. The “Oh no, why did I teach him that” moment…

The other day my son lifted his shirt, and with a look of surprise in his eyes, poked himself in the belly button. At that moment, without a single thought in my head. I made a raspberry sound. And now our life will never be the same… Every day since I have woken to the lifting of my shirt, the poke in the belly button and that sound, followed by a hysterical laugh and then the same process repeated on Daddy, then himself, then me again. And 13 month old children apparently have no sense of when and where it is appropriate to lift up your Mum’s shirt.

11. The joy of Christmas…

It’s back. The feeling of anticipation…the endless wait…the magic! It’s all back. Last year Smidge was just 4 months old and I had spent most of the last 6 weeks in and out of hospital, so the magic wasn’t as strong as it already is this year. I love that Christmas is the time of year where anything is possible, that wishes really can come true.

12. The Mummy Lioness within…

I expect every Mum will know what I mean by this one. The day that you have to protect your child. It doesn’t matter that you are the least confrontational person, or have never defended yourself.

I experienced my first Lioness moment the other day when I saw 2 older children hitting my son on the back as he climbed out of a ball pit. I looked around for their Mums, but seeing no-one, knew it was up to me. I calmly picked him up out of their reach and said “Oh dear, we can’t hit babies, we pat them gently” and stroked his back. The little boy repeated “Pat bubba, gentle” And I felt proud of myself. Because as much as I would have liked to freak right out on those rough kids, I know that a Mummy Lioness treats other kids the way that she would like other people to treat hers.

13. Falling in love all over again…

While I sit here, trying to think of a last milestone, my husbands voice drifts up the hallway. He is reading Smidge a story as he puts him to bed. Every few pages I hear a yawn- Daddy’s, not Smidge’s. Even though he has had a long day at work, he still has time to give me a break, time for his little boy who he adores and who adores him so much. And so, even though our life has become all about our son, we have these precious moments where I fall in love with my husband all over again.

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others’ comments. It’s easy, and fun!

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My daughter is teaching me housework

I’m a terrible housekeeper.  Really, really bad, I hover on the edge of unhygienic (and probably slip over).

You see, it didn’t use to matter.  I was at work all day, so at most there’d be books lying around everywhere.  I had half a dozen work outfits and they’d get washed on the weekend.  If I didn’t put them away, it didn’t really matter because there weren’t that many.  The biggest problem was dishes, and even for them I was only using a breakfast bowl, a plate and a pot or two, so they didn’t really build up that badly.

Now I’m at home with two active little people.  We have a sandpit and big yard, they love love love craft, gluing, stickers, playdough.  So our floor isn’t just gritty, it has the potential to stick to you semi-permanently.  We have enough toys to fill one of those superstores and they both adore books, balls, lego and dolls.  The big one strips off at any excuse and refuses to put the same clothes back on, so there are little trails of clothes all over the house.  We use cloth nappies, although the little one is toilet training so that’s easing off.  And dishes!  They must eat every 2 hours and big girl insists on all ingredients being separate.  And baby girl is quite insistent about what she wants to have, it can take a few goes for Mum to work it out and get it right.  Plus they love cooking, and we bake or make something like playdough 4 or 5 times a week.  So our house is a disaster area.

My husband tries.  He has a bit of a plastic addiction, we have boxes and baskets in all shapes and sizes.  We have recycled yoghurt and icecream containers and little drawers to hold the crayons and glitter glues and stickytapes and stamps and My Little Ponies and playdough cutters and pompoms and dress-ups and shoes and hats and threading gear and pretend cooking equipment and balloons and cars and magnets and all the rest of it.  And I do try to enforce things going away before the next thing comes out.  But over the week it builds up until the edges of the floor are filled with little tiny bits and pieces and the middle is gritty as you step over the doll beds and trains.

So we have a kitchen timer and we do 10 minute clean-ups, and my eldest daughter and I have a deal – if I tell her to put things away, she’s allowed to tell me the same.

For the first time in my life, I’m hanging clothes up as soon as I take them off.  I’m putting my shoes away when I get home.  I’m putting my books back on the bookshelf and only have one (or two :D) out at a time. I’m vacuuming regularly and cleaning the bathroom every week.  I still don’t make the bed, but seeing that hiding under the covers is such a cool game I don’t see that happening any time soon.  I can understand all the things my mother used to say to me when I was growing up, and now I can see there’s a point to them.  Just give my toddlers a few more years and they’ll have me ready to move out by myself.