A Tale of Chaos and that Darn Lunch Box ..

For some reason getting up at 5am to be at work by 7am is far easier than having a day off and doing kindy drop off by 8.30am. I hate kindy drop off with a vengeance. In fact, I hate everything about getting ready for kindy. I can meet a deadline on an important job at work with less stress than I can prepare a ‘school house’ lunch box. Seriously.

Since when did putting together a kindy/school lunch box become so complicated?

Since I had the fussiest child on earth.

Does anyone else add fruit to a school lunch box for show knowing full well that said child will not touch, let alone eat it? No? Let’s be honest here! I have to do batches of stewed apples on weekends to disguise into weetbix in order to get fruit in these boys. C has always had a strange phobia of touching some textures of foods (namely fruit and vegetables – convenient?) so disguising has become part of my repertoire. School house lunches on the other hand are a bit of a nightmare for me with a child who only really likes white foods. Bread (plain, no butter or any other spread/filling must go anywhere near it), rolls (as above), biscuits (must be baked to avoid any ‘may contain peanuts’ warnings which is fine but means many a late night panic of baking before a kindy day and then there is the big question of how many biscuits are acceptable a day when it is all they will probably eat?), chips (plain, usually come home untouched and soggy). I then find myself topping up with things that look good but will be uneaten for the most part (sweetcorn fritters, potatoes cubed and seasoned, even pizza!). Why I go to so much effort when I know he won’t touch them is beyond me (ok, maybe because I hope that one day he might try it and surprise me but mostly because I can’t exactly send him off with three slices of plain bread and 5 biscuits).

This does not go unnoticed by the kindy teachers who have approached me with concern at how little he eats. So stress #1 leads to stress #2 – drop off. For some unknown reason I can never get them out the door in time. The juggling act of getting them up, dressed, fed and out the door just continually turns to chaos. Then juggling two children into the building and dragging the kicking and screaming two year old out of the sand pit and back out the door while the three year old is standing there saying ‘Ok mum, BYE now’ in a ‘please hurry up you are cramping my style’ tone of voice, is just the icing on the cake. And yet all the other mums (and dads) look so relaxed while I feel like I have run a marathon. I come home literally exhausted and it’s not even 9am.

Am I the only one out there or is this a universal problem that we are all just good at disguising?

Wobbly Bits

I spent a bit of time pondering whether to share this. But it is too good not to write down so I decided to take the leap and let people have a giggle at my expense.

Because I work I have my showers in the morning (by morning I am talking 5am morning, too early to be up morning, go back to bed morning) and my boys very rarely see me get dressed (in other words, to see me without clothes is something completely foreign). It was not something I set out to hide, it is just the way it is.

The other night C was in my bed (yes, I know, he should have been in his but ya know, that’s how we roll) when I was getting into my pajamas and he looks up at me and says ‘Mummy, you are all wobbly!’. Amused I pointed at my tummy and said ‘This?’ and he says ‘No, those!‘ pointing upwards ‘Those mummy, they are all wobbly, you’re all wobbly!’. I immediately started laughing (and I admit it, I was secretly relieved that he wasn’t talking about my stomach which has seen better days) and I went and told my husband. When I came back C says to me sadly ‘I’m sorry mummy, I was only telling the truth’. Bless. Definitely gave me my giggle for the evening!


Children are strange creatures. Cohen has always been behind with his speech and worried me silly. He’s on a publicly funded waiting list for speech therapy but in the last few months has come in leaps and bounds and I wonder where he even picks up his words! Like, where did he learn ‘parrot’? I would be far more inclined to say bird but right now everything that flies is a parrot. A mouse is a snail. Logical? He can count to 20 and recognise numbers and he is the most polite little boy ever.

‘Cohen, it’s nap time!’

‘No thanks mummy, thanks anyway but no thank you!’

What do you even say to that? You can’t say ‘No, don’t be naughty’ because he is so polite in saying no! Everything is thank you, no thank you, you’re welcome. I’m very proud of these manners!

He is also very caring. I have been sick with an awful head cold this week and he has a very caring nature so he has been looking after me. I was lying on the couch and he got me a blanket and put it over me, tucking my feet under the blanket too ‘All better!’ he says. Then he gets his foam couch and puts that on me too. Then the bean bag. Then a pillow pet. Then a few soft toys and a few more pillows. ‘There you go, all better now mummy!’. Uh huh, a mountain on me so I couldn’t move. Child logic!

I love it so much being able to communicate with him and have babbling conversations. Finley is well ahead of himself and joins in by repeating everything. It’s just gorgeous and probably why the anniversary of my mums death this year passed without any tears. I think I am moving on. I think I have stopped pining. I think my life is full. What a great feeling!

My Big Boy Turns THREE!

From this:


To this:


How did that even happen?! My gorgeous wee man turned 3 on Friday. We had a fabulous day out with him visiting our local museum and the token trip to McDonalds for a Happy Meal before him and I caught the train home so he could go on the ‘big train’ for the very first time. We then had a very small gathering on Sunday to celebrate. This kid amazes me every day. He has had a slower start than most on the speech front and is currently on the waiting list for speech therapy. This has been a source of some stress for me as I worry about him not fitting in with other kids and falling behind on his milestones. When it’s your first child it is so so soo hard not to compare them to other kids their age and I am incredibly guilty of doing this. Cohen isn’t like his little brother who is boy through and through, rough and tumble and tough and BOY. He on the other hand, is a sensitive and sweet wee man, somewhat of an old soul, very caring and loving and affectionate. He started kindy a few weeks ago and has come in leaps and bounds in speech and confidence ever since and I just adore having little conversations with him now, he has started developing a passion for reading and I just couldn’t be any prouder of how far he has come and the rate to which he is getting there.

What’s the old adage? Good things take time.

That they do.

Insomnia, toddler style

Three year old’s are crafty little buggers. Unlike a baby who will cry when they wake up in the night, a three year old will get themselves up, open the door and sneak around the house, often unseen and unheard. Last night for example. Again, he sneaks in and gets my iPhone. I think I am actually going to have to hide it from him a little more stringently, these kids are way too technologically advanced and smart for their own good! I am constantly amazed by just how easily he finds his way around my phone. Daily I have a new ringtone and message tones, it’s like a lucky dip, you just never know what you’re gonna get! Downside is I also get a timer going off in the early hours of the morning (designed to give you a heart attack) or alarms being switched off so you don’t get up in time, much like the other morning when Finley was the one keeping us awake all night. Clearly I need to get stricter with the access he has to my phone and not just leave it lying around where it finds its way into little hands.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.

Last night. I went to bed and Hayden stayed up as he wasn’t tired. This often happens and then he falls asleep on the couch and never even makes it to bed. I sensed Cohen come in around midnight and it wasn’t until I got whacked in the head with said phone at 1am that I realised what the sneaky little tyke was up to. He hadn’t been allowed my phone that evening (amid tears and tantrums) so he had obviously decided to do sleuth styles to get the opportunity to play on it. Obviously I took it off him and told him to go back to bed. Off he trots and I went back to sleep. Wake up lying on my phone. Look at the time – 2.09am. Think I better go get the husband to bed. Go in the lounge and there sits my son on the couch happily watching cartoons! Sneaky little bugger hadn’t gone back to bed at all but gone into the lounge and switched on the TV coercing Hayden to go to his cartoons channel (who in his defence claimed that Cohen was so awake that he thought it must be morning). For at least 2 hours he had been up and about doing his own thing unbeknownst to us! Someone is going to be a very tired little boy today.

Anyone else have themselves one of these?