Give A Single Girl a Break Already

My dear facebook friends may find this somewhat familiar:

"Valentines Day advertisments, common give a single girl a break already." 26th Jan 2011 8:36am

Yes I am a young mother with a child but sometimes the consistancy of ones schedule does not distract from the single most romantic day of the year. Oh please! Do I have to hear about it?

Everyday I am reminded that I am single. I am not complaining about that - well just yet anyway. The pangs grab at the heart strings every Thursday night at about 1030pm when Im lying in bed trying to dose off and the neighbours start taking their bins to the footpath... "Doh! I've forgotten them again!" I jump up out of bed fumble for shoes, grab the rubbish, unlock the doors and trudge rather conspicuously (and how could you not) to the footpath with my extra loud wheelie bins. I loathe taking out the bins. It was never a chore I volunteered when I wasn't single.

All this week William and I have been down with the flu. I've been diagnosed by a male friend with the "girl flu" as opposed to the "man flu" that he contracted a few weeks back and I have at times lived up to having the "girl flu". Lying on the lounge all day, texting and facebooking friends in between visits to the bathroom and tending to my ill little mite, boredom and self pity often reared its ugly head.

"I'm bored... I'm tired... I'm sick... I miss you... I want a cuddle... You live too far away... When can you come and visit?... I'm being a sook... Can you talk to me for a little while longer?... Call me... What are you doing now?... and now? "

A confident and otherwise competent young woman was brought to her knees by the "girl flu" and the need to depend on someone else was almost at a peak. And then come the advertisement.... "Lovers and romantics, come and have your candlelit dinner..." BLAH Blah. I don't really know how it went- I tuned out. But if you have single friends out there this Valentines Day, please be considerate of them. It is a lonely dull and sometimes sad day of the year, where the need for a life partner or even a little excitement in ones life is often under the spotlight...

Don't worry about me though, I'll be fine. I'm over my weak moment and the "girl flu" is subsiding. My Valentines Day will be filled with William, the Love of my Life and I wont even notice the day tick over... (stop sniggering, I'm allowed to think Positive!)

Happy Aussie Day Everyone!

My day began with a wake up call from Will, “Mumma!” He was standing at the baby security gate holding bear and his dummy (affectionately called Num-num). “Num-num, Bear. Num-num, Bear!” His unique way of saying he wants to jump into Mummy’s bed.

“Happy Australia Day my beautiful little Tacka!” I tell him as I lift him over my head and tackle him with plenty of giggles down onto the big bed. “What are we going to do today? Lets go and get you decked out.” I dress Will in Green and Gold in the hope to find some cheap and tacky Aussie merchandise at the shops so my little boy can be a walking patriotic mascot- at least for a day!

As it happens I left my run a little late. Yesterday we were both down for a day with a tummy bug and didn't venture off our respective sofas. Today I tried all the major outlets, children's stores and junk shops. Nothing. What I was faced with at every shop was hordes of shoppers decked from head to toe in Aussie Day merchandise. When I was young I used to think it was tacky. This year I beamed with pride.

Aussies are a unique bunch of people. We are hard when we need to be and soft enough to appreciate the small things. We have a collective sense of humour unlike any other. We have a spirit within us that enables us to stand with pride and say “She'll be right mate,” But accept help from our friends at the same time. I am so proud of our country today. I am so proud to be Australian and when I look down at my little boy and his big grin I am proud to be raising my own little Aussie.

 

Happy Australia Day!

Another Great Aussie Day Post by a new blogger, Check it out

http://maninagreenshirt.blogspot.com/



It must be Quicky Thursday!!!

Just a follow up on on my previous blog post, "Sometimes I Wonder Should I Really Teach Him That". Today When I was picking Will up from daycare he found a naked male baby doll.
"Mumma, Mumma!" He grabbed my shirt and pulled me over to where the doll was laying in the playground. "Doodle!"
"Yes honey, the bubby has a doodle."
"Doodle, doodle, DOOdle, DOODLE!" He started shouting at the top of his voice.

"Well he's good with his anatomy!" His carer tells me with a huge smirk.
"My best friend told me I'd have issues with him yelling this out at day care." I tell her.
"Don't worry all the little girls were looking at it and didn't know what it was but William put them straight and told them what they were looking at!"

Am I Really Wearing Pants?

I cant sleep so I resort to my computer....

I turn it on and there on the screen in front of me is the desktop background picture of a group of people in my courtyard. The group consists of 6 adults and 6 children including Will. They are all happy and smiling back at me as I snap pics on the camera trying to capture the special memory of the day they changed my life.

My alarm clock was set for 730 but once again Will preceded it and today I didn't mind. I was waking up after a very late night/early morning drinking wine and gossiping with a good friend. I was still a bit buzzed from my great night, but wary that the 3 bottles we shared might have in some way altered my ability to get up. 745Am I was out of bed and playing with William in his room. I took off his soiled nappy to find a sore angry rash and jumped in the shower while he laughed naked at me through the screen. My phone rang as I washed shampoo out of my hair and again a second time as I just finished with the conditioner. I jumped out and returned my dad's calls promptly. I assured him I would feed the dog while he was away for the weekend and dimly heard a knocking from downstairs. Its too early for Toni my neighbour with the playdate arrangements, surely I'm hearing things. Knock, Knock, knock! I wasn't hearing things.

Hair matted and dripping wet, I stumble quickly over the obstacles, re-assess the towel I'm barely wearing and looking precariously over the balcony. “Hello?” My visitor takes a few steps back and looks up at me laughing hysterically.

“Oh, I've gotten you out of the shower!" She laughs.

“I'll be right down Lyn!” I didn’t know that a few short hours later I would be taking a picture in the courtyard with that same smile beaming back at me.

I throw on a bra and shirt and a pair of shorts. No time for knickers or a comb through the hair. I scoop up Will who’s wearing a T-shirt and nothing else. His nudey run in full swing!

I open up the door to that big bright smile and a “I'm here today because I have a team of people with me and we're going to backyard blitz your yard...”

      Is she for real!

      Is this a joke!

      Am I on camera?

      Don't cry!

      I've been set up!

      How many people are there?

      I haven’t done my hair!

      Will's doodle is hanging out from under his shirt!

      Why didn’t I put pants on Will?

      Am I wearing pants?

I check to make sure I wearing pants about the same time that I decide Lyn is definitely serious. A thousand things run through my head. Don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry! How big is a “team” of people? Pants woman, pants!

Ten minutes later its full-steam ahead. Weeds are being pulled, leaves swept into piles and taken to the green waste. 15 minutes and the leaf blower is out, the courtyard is almost empty. The high pressure water hose is next. Then as if by army, person after person begin to carry in the tools of the makeover. Planter boxes, a sandpit for Will, bags of soil, fertiliser, sand and mulch, a two seater table and chairs set, watering can, hose, herbs, tomato plants and strawberries...

Sometimes I still check to see if I’m not wearing pants and it was in fact all a dream. I never believed that things like that would ever happen to someone like me. The overwhelming sense of gratitude towards my friends and all the effort that went in behind the scenes is just incredible. Today I went to Lyn and Scott's church, the place where it all began. Last Sunday, Scott put the call out for my cause and everyone chipped in to donate their time, money, prayers and possessions. Many of these people I had never met and I'm sure there are some that I still haven't. I stood in front of the congregation and tried to express just how special their “Random Act of Kindness” was to William and I. I said a few words and stumbled over others but I don’t know if anyone will truly know how much yesterday actually meant to me. I cant help but think: This is what it's all about!

This is what Christianity and Community should be about and I am the blessed person on the receiving end. How do you repay such a kindness and express such a gratitude?

Well until I think of something better my answer will just have to be that William loves his sandpit and his new- beaut yard that he can actually ride his trike around in. In his own unique way he appreciates what others have done for him. I sit at my new table and grin at my new plants and feel the outdoors seeping into my skin while I watch Will smile and squeal with delight. Its already changing our lifestyle and I’ve got my very own heroes to thank!

Sometimes I Wonder Should I Really Teach Him That

As a first time mother of a cheeky boy from a cheeky mother (did you get that??)... I get such delight teaching William so many bold and forward “tricks”. I know that he's not a performing seal, but when he's about to do something audacious he pauses and looks around engaging his audience for maximum impact. How on earth do children learn such traits... (Stop pointing at me!).

I am a very proud mother and when Will warms up his audience I cant help but be drawn in with the rest of the crowd. We're currently working on a “body builder” routine. Mum, (that’s me) kicks it off: “Will show us your guns!” And William promptly and rigidly pumps his fist in the air trying to bulge out his biceps and includes one of his famous effort grunts for maximum attention.

“Rahhhh” I continue showing him how to go to the next pose, “The Crab,” by bending at the waist, arms down and slightly bent, pumping his fists and hands almost together in front of his waist. All the time my dad is hysterical with laughter!!!

My dad, however, does not get let off the hook either! My dad is a committee member/volunteer/frequent patron to the local Bowling Club, (i.e. Club containing oldies in whites on immaculate green grass rolling black 'bowls'- not 'balls' - to a tiny white 'jack'. It does not include ten pins!). Will knows all the regular members and walks in giving everyone 'High fives' until he reaches our regular table; or if Dad is working he runs from the car, through the carpark, around a corner, up a ramp through the lobby to the office where my dad works and perches himself up at the computer. 'Click click click!' He knows how to use the computer mouse too. He clinks glasses, calls out “cheers” and puts his drink back down on a coaster. Will knows how to get past the TAB counter and through the auditorium to the snooker room at the back of the club.

My personal favourite and funniest 'learning experience' for my poor little William (if I'm allowed to call it that) has been the body building poses but my proudest is our car dancing. I'm coming out of the closet when I tell you all, (my thousands of followers *snort*), that I'm a huge car dancing/singing addict. This addiction has come from my inability to dance on my two left feet and sadly my tone deaf affliction that I was diagnosed with at birth! To compensate for these unfortunate disabilities I have learnt to dance and sing loudly behind the wheel and since William is almost always my passenger, he comes along for the ride.

Shortly before Christmas I was pumping out the Powderfinger hit 'Burn Your Name' and driving around town with the windows down, sun pouring in, wind in our hair. I feel like sighing and kicking back at the thought! Will's ringlets are getting longer and the wind almost always blows his hair into his eyes and he puts his hand on his head as a counteraction. I was in the middle of a dance action I like to call “boxing shoulders” inspired from a step in Zumba. My shoulders were going from side to side and my free arm was up in front of my body in a kind of defensive move that a boxer might use. “I want every single soul to know,” Im warbling full of enthuasium. I check in the review mirror to see if Will is holding onto his hair. Instead I see a little face full with smiles and hands out in front doing rolly-polly's with his wrists and bopping up and down to the beat... “That I love you for what you are” I try to sing in an uneven tone. Will catches me watching him in the rear view mirror and flashes a big smile that I interpret as: “look Mummy I can car dance too!”. Ever since then I notice if I sing loudly enough the bopping and hand actions return with as much enthusiasm as I give it myself!

My little boy flexes his guns, clinks glasses in a toast and car dances with Mummy and I couldnt be prouder.

Happy New Year

Due to popular demand, The Little Boy With The Blue Bear will be returning to regular post from the 7th January. Thank you to all my Follower and readers and a Happy New Year to you all.

Our Playgroup Is Awesome

I just seen the funniest advertisement for a new sitcom. A bunch of mothers sitting around in a sort of playgroup vibe, babies on their lap and singing... Watch the Video on YouTube by clicking here...

This is how it goes...

Alright Mummy's let me hear you this time

(Singing)

The people on the bus go up and down

Up and down

Up and down

The people on the bus go up and down

accountability-central.com

All over Town

A man and a baby girl are sitting too, they aren't singing.

We don't know this song.

She just got out of prison.

The prison bus had bars on the windows

And if the people got up they got shot.

They got shot,

They got shot....

Laughs! Ok now you really have a good insight into my twisted sense of humour.

The reason this caught my attention is because Will and I had been to playgroup recently. Our playgroup doesn't have a baby just released from prison, well that I know of. I'm sure if we did they would be very welcome, however.

playgroupplanner.yolasite.com

The first few weeks of playgroup were more like an exploration of the surroundings for William. He was up running around circling the group of mums and bubs, climbing on the stage and weaving in and out of the rows of chairs to get to the lady operating the powerpoint presentation of songs. He wasn't very interested in singing, clapping and dancing. I felt slightly disappointed that we weren't joining in the circle.

Now that we've been going for a while he's started to settle down and we get more group time with everyone else. Will absolutely loves this time of week. He gets excited when I tell him we're going to dance, he's just learnt was dancing is in the last few months. His style of dancing is swaying from side to side and lifting his arms up alternately which was originally “The Monkey” that his Pa had taught him.

Last week we had the 'Circus Theme'. Our fantastic organiser had put a huge round colourful tent canopy on the ground and we sat around it, danced along the edges and tight-rope walked over a rope on the top. I made clown costumes for Will and his little friend. They had floppy little happy pants that had shoulder-straps so they were kind of like overalls. I dressed Will in a green checked shirt, painted lipstick on his nose and cheeks and sprayed his hair red. My friend made the bow ties and the two boys were set. Very cute little clowns

(Clown costume will not upload. 

Check next time to see if the picture is here)

The advantages of playgroup for us is huge.

*William and I get to interact with each other in a creative environment

*I have an outlet to socialise with others in the same stage of life, going through the same milestones, achievements and hardships

*William can learn to interact with other children and respond to other adults

*I am able to make ties to the community and feel as though I am part of a group

*Will gets to run around and stretch his legs in a big hall and play with things that we don't have at home

* I can watch William developing in a way that you don't get to witness while he is at daycare

* I get to sing and dance and look completely ridiculous and it's expected of me

* Its cheap and people only go who want to be there so its a really friendly place to be

And most importantly we have volunteers that make awesome cuppa’s and snacks.

How Now Brown Bovine!

Growing up in a family where I spent all my time with my two wild, rowdy Brothers, swearing became ingrained in my everyday language. As a child/adolescent it was a defence mechanism against bullying and made me appear tougher then I was. As an adult I realise how vulgar I sometimes sound when I forget to make a conscious effort not to use inappropriate language.

The reason I am making such an effort is because I don’t want my son to grow up with the same attitude to language. During work hours and when I'm with my son it becomes easy to not use bad language, it with other adults in social surrounds when I forget to be “proper”.

The issue can sometimes be, what do I replace -bleep- with. Because the “f”, “c”, “s”, and “p” words are so ingrained in my make-up, my vocabulary has become limited and I'm left looking like I'm trying to be overly politically correct, which is something I've never really been "into". Here, I'll try a few to clarify my point.

How, now, brown BOVINE

It's really, PLASMA AND BLOOD CELLS, hot today

Don't be a COPULATING RECTUM SPHINCTER

She's always such a FEMALE PUPPYDOG to her husband but he is also guilty of being a SILLY PORK SAUSAGE to her.

The two consenting adults were …. PLAYING CHECKERS..?

I mean how far exactly do you take it. My hedging, describing words have always been creative. But lately I've been getting more and more creative...

“SWISH SWASH FLUFFIN BUCKET!”

“CRACKEN- SNAFFLE- BACK!”

“CRUDIE-SLAV!”

“FLOSH- LA-KOFF”

Anyone close at the time would be mistaken in thinking that I am studying some sort of foreign language. I've been told it takes 21 days to break a habit. We'll see how it goes.

Halloween, Such A Douche!

Halloween such a douche. Halloween first entered my life 2 years ago. As an Australian, Halloween is not really celebrated like it is in America. A little girl and her parents knocked on my door and yelled “Trick or Treat!” I felt really bad that this little girl would leave my house empty handed. I scrounged around for a packet of fruity Mentos that I knew was hidden in the bottom of my hand bag for a sugary hit during my pregnancy. The little girl still did not seem impressed with my effort.

This year I was prepared. I brought 3 packets of cheap sugary treats and put them in a mixing bowl. There are a lot of kids in my neighbour hood and out of them all I had 8 knock on the door and only one bothered to go to any effort. Lipstick was smeared over her face in an attempt at fake vampire blood. She helped herself to the bowl and between her and her brother, that was a third of the bowl gone.

The thrill of my night was being able to update my facebook status to say that a stranger was handing out candy to little kids, “yep that's happening in my house,” I wrote. Even that felt lame. So although Halloween is a huge thing in America here in Australia it has been adopted as a huge candy hunt for kids who don’t even bother to put in effort. My cousin in a town 400km's away was dissapointed that those who come to his house trick or treating in costumes chose costumes that were not scarey or frightening in any form. Superman turned up, "Argh, watch out or Superman might save the world from imminent destruction". Nightmare-ish!

Why did I participate? Well it's simple really. I live near the “cheaper” end of town. (I'm not really being politically correct, I just don’t want to put myself down too much, by association.) I was scared that if I didn't give out free candy then the kids would throw eggs at my house, toilet paper my car or blow up my mail box. And did it work? Well everything appears intact. Maybe coincidence? Maybe not?

Apologies to the People

Its been a week since my last post. William is still laughing at his "pop-offs" and entertaining himself and everyone around him with his increased amusement at his bodily noises... 

The week in short: hectic!

Our week begins Monday. Up, shower, breakfast, clean the house, clean someone elses house, lunch, put will to bed and do some sewing. Sew, sew, sew. I make two clown costumes for the Mainly Music Circus theme day. Will gets up, visit a friend and her kids. Continue tweaking coustumes. Dinner, bed.

This is exactly how I look While I sew

Tuesday: Up, shower, breakfast. Dress Will in his costume. Drive to Tuncurry, pick up friend, arrive at Mainly Music. Sing, Dance, Play, Coffee. Visit Pa at work, visit Nan at home. Lunch. Put Will to bed. Washing, folding, sweeping, cleaning. Will wakes up. Visit another friend with her new little Bubba. Home, dinner, bed.

Wednesday: Up, shower, breakfast, pack bags for work and school. Phone Call. Dad taken to hospital in ambulance. Crud. Take Will to school. More phone calls. Crud. Work, crud. Dad is ok and comes home. Finish work. Phew. Pick up Will and visit Dad. Home, dinner, shower, bed. 

Pretty Please can you turn the siren on

Thursday: Up, shower, breakfast. Go the school, wait for the photographer. Play with Will. Photographer's late. Watch Will play and call work. Photos done in 20 secs. Work. Pick up Will. Go to the Mall. Will's school wins a competition for $3000. Jump up and down histerically. Throw Will in the photo. Buy a beer. Drink a Beer. Dinner with my parents. Home, bed.

Our Cheque was Bigger than his..

Friday: Up at midnight. Bed. Up at 12:30, bed. Up at 2am, bed. Up at 2:15am, bed. Up at 2:30am, get Will a bottle, bed. Up at 3am, change Will's nappy, bed. Up at 3:15am, put Will in my bed, bed. Up at 4:30, change another nappy, give Will panadol, bed. Up at 5:30 am, Will goes back into the cot, bed. Phone call 920am, crud slept in, get out of bed. Shower, breakfast, take Will to school. R.T.A organise car registration. Work, yawn, coffee. Get Will, visit Dad. Home, Dinner, NCIS, Blog post and Go Girls (the best thing to ever come out off New Zealand.

Mummy I'm having nightmares

Hmmmm, almost forgot to breathe this week.