28.2.11
Happy anniversary
To my very best friend who makes me laugh, tolerates my cleaning frenzies and continues to surprise, support and inspire me. I love you to smithereens. Happy anniversary.
27.2.11
Speedy weekends
24.2.11
21.2.11
Wee little chuckles
20.2.11
Tickling the ivories
Wow, what a weekend! Check out the amazing breakfast Maisie's papa cooked for me yesterday. Delicious corn fritters with an avocado and coriander salsa. And this was just a little something to get us energised for the very BIG present pour moi. Yep, a HUGE present, one that requires its very own truck to deliver and possibly requires its very own room in the new house...a spanking brand new piano. Soooooooo excited...What a thoughtful and generous husband I have. The piano is on layby and ready to be delivered whenever we move. Actually, I'm not sure if I actually gave an update, but the Year of the House has started in earnest. We have listed the house for sale in April and the tidy-up has commenced. I'm dreading the cleaning required for the open for inspections, but hell it's only four weeks of pain. Four weeks closer to getting my piano. Ahh, the piano..
14.2.11
A Day in the Life
Wake up happy, squealing while 'talking' to toys. Quickly turn from smiling to grumpy because breakfast has not been served. Eat breakfast and smear porridge all over hair and furniture.
Commence morning checklist:
- Remove all books, newspapers, magazines, phones and remote controls from the coffee table
- Extract all dvds from the TV cabinet and spread over floor
- Commence play with aforementioned items, drooling on disks, tearing up pages of newspapers and magazines and getting face and hands covered in newspaper print
- Explore house for prohibited items...mum's glasses, mum's lightbulb collection, expensive books
- Grunt excessively while filling nappy
- Optional extras: Vomit on the floor and commando crawl across the mess, smearing it into the carpet. Attempt to stand without holding onto anything, then fall, knock head and cry. Possible repetition of previous item.
Nap. Wake happy and 'talk' to toys. Eat toast and smear vegemite over clothing and general vicinity. Commence day's activities.
A good day: Go to the shops (bonus points if this involves sitting in a shopping trolley). Meet up with mum's friends and gawk at people in a cafe for an extended period. Swim lesson, bike ride or lay under a tree on a windy day. Point out "dada" to any person who rides a bike, motorbike or wears a suit. Watch dogs.
A bad day: Watch mum try to clean the house, do gardening or generally catchup on emails or the blog. Listen to mum talk incessantly on the phone. (Ways to thwart aforementioned activities include consistent whingeing, crawling behind mum crying "mama", "mama", "mama" ad nauseam. If that fails, cry loudly and allow snot to escape down face).
Commence evening checklist:
- Latch on to mum's clothing as she attempts to prepare your dinner
- Smear pumpkin, broccoli, pasta or other such dinner delicacy over the vicinity paying particular attention to up nostrils and over hair
- Sit at window awaiting dad's return
- Splash majority of bath water over either parent and on floor
- Crawl all over couch and parents speaking gibberish for up to an hour
- Listen intently to book while attempting to rip pages
- Scream blue murder when either parent attempts to put you to bed. (Continue screaming for up to 40 minutes with additional emphasis obtained by standing up in the cot).
- Sleep through until morning and start again
9.2.11
Kidding around
I never thought I'd complain about not having time to do mundane things like cleaning the house, but this week I've endured a crying, snotty child latched to my foot...leg...hip...I just want to vacuum, is that asking too much? The poor little tacker is teething and as soon as she senses a hint of me moving more than an inch from her, the tears start flooding, along with the snot, down her puffy little face. If I persevere and try to engage in anything as self-indulgent as cooking her dinner, she sniffles and wails after me leaving a snot stream on the floorboards in her wake. The good news is she loves getting out in the car and cycling along in her little bike seat, so the house is a mess, as am I, but at least she's not crying. One such adventure this week was to the Collingwood Children's Farm where Maisie tried to kill the baby goats with her version of gentle patting.
3.2.11
Peggy
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