Opinion · Parenting · Personal

The True Cost of Parenting

The True Cost of Parenting

Some friends of mine and Husband’s are expecting their first child at the beginning of next year, and they had us over for dinner at the weekend. We were going through the usual baby-related chit-chat (and I swear, I have tried to lay off of baby-talk as I know it’s maddening for a Mum-to-be to have the same conversation with every single person she speaks to) and we got to the subject of shopping. Or more accurately what they were planning to buy, to prepare for their new arrival.

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Parenting · Personal

No Kids Allowed?

No Kids Allowed?

Okay, anyone who is of faint-heart may want to turn away now. Because I have something to say, and it may not be pretty or delicate. It’s something I feel strongly about and if this turns into a rant, don’t blame me, you were warned!

I would really, really like to know; why do people have children if they don’t like spending time with them? I was reading a post from a fellow blogger this morning, where she talks about taking her family on a skiing holiday, and one of her friends told her that with the day care and classes for kids, she’d barely have to see her kids whilst away. As you’ll see if you read the original post, Mediocre Mum had no intention of palming her kids off to strangers for the whole holiday, but the fact that it was said, so out of hand, like children are just accessories, dragged out when we need them, kind of got on my nerves.

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Parenting

What Makes Kids ‘Fussy Eaters’?

What Makes Kids ‘Fussy Eaters’?

I was just standing at the kitchen sink, doing the washing up (I do most of my best thinking whilst washing dishes!), and I was marvelling at how diverse Sausage is when it comes to her eating habits, compared to a lot of kids her age who are super fussy eaters. This week alone, she’s eaten a chicken biryani, a homemade lasagna, a three-bean stew and a roast dinner, including carrots, greens and baby sprouts, not to mention a whole punnet of strawberries and half a bunch of grapes.

It got me to wondering how many other two-and-a-bit year olds eat as well as Sausage does, is she unique in this, or are others so willing to try new things?

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Parenting · Personal

An Ode to Winter

An ode to winter

Photo by Tim Gouw

When I was younger, if you’d have asked me what my favourite season was, my answer, without hesitation, would have been summer. I loved summer, I felt it was my season. I loved the heat, I’d be delirious with excitement when the longer nights set in. I was born in June, a true summer baby. When I first started living with Husband, I’d drag him out on twilight walks to sit in the local public gardens, just so I could soak up the balmy evenings.

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Uncategorized

What’s in a name?

What's in a name?

When I was pregnant with Sausage, I think I drove my husband a little bit mental with the name-choosing process. I pretty much ruled out any name which already belonged to anyone I had ever known, save for the potential of naming her after a relative. I also ruled out any names which gave her ridiculous initials, rhymed with anything which could be used against her (probably from years of being called Jayne the Pain/Bane/Drain by idiots with limited wit) or belonged to a celebrity who I found objectionable. I also ruled out any names which I felt may be prohibitive to her as an adult. Nobody wants to be treated by a Doctor or represented by a Lawyer with an overly twee name like Precious, surely?!

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Opinion · Personal

Facebook is Making Me Die Inside

I have a bit of a Facebook problem. I spend far too much time checking my Facebook, time when I should be, you know, parenting Sausage or doing housework or something. I’m more than happy to admit that my main motivation for having a Facebook page is my innate nosiness. I love to look at other people’s pictures, read snippets of what’s going on in their lives.

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Personal

My Overactive Guilt Gland

Guilt

I should probably have been born a Catholic.

Nah, screw that, I’m far too lethargic/apathetic to remember to pray all the time and go to church every week.

But I do have a guilt complex of which a Catholic would be proud.

I feel guilty about EVERYTHING.

You know when you eat a can of baked beans? If I leave even one bean in the can when I empty it into the saucepan (oh alright, microwave dish, I’m not shit-hot enough at being a wife and mother to use metal saucepans to heat things in. But I digress…) I feel actually properly guilty about leaving that one bean, alone. Alone and unable to fulfill its life purpose as a baked bean, which is to be eaten by my child.

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Humour · Parenting

Things You Never Think About…Until You Become a Parent

Things You Never Think About…Until You Become a Parent
  • Note to self; I must remember that Sausage has been eating lumps of red Play Doh, before I change her nappy and panic about all the red bits in her poo.
  • Hmm, I wonder if there’s a more practical way to deal with an attached child than to have them actually sitting on your lap while you pee?
  • Oh, wow, she moved over a bit, that means I now have FOUR WHOLE INCHES of my kingsize bed, all to myself!
  • I wonder if I can cut her hair/fingernails/toenails while she’s asleep, so I can avoid being kicked in the teeth/stabbed?
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