Too Much Fun Can Be Bad For Your Sanity

The last few weeks we have had far too many of these kinds of incidents happening, both at home and when out and about. Skye has seemed highly strung, anxious and difficult. Constantly. It has made the whole family feel tense and frustrated and honestly it has not been fun to live with. It had reached the point where I was wondering if this was more than just a phase, I was beginning to wonder if there was some kind of behavioural issue we needed to identify.

Really I just needed some kind of validation it wasn't my crap parenting. 

I wanted to be able to say "It's not me, it's you". 

Going on holidays... so hard.

I mean really what is Skye's problem? She gets to do a lot of fun things. In between Preschool and swimming lessons and weekly visits from my mum there are regular play dates with friends and trips to the beach, we make play dough and cookies, we read stories and dance along with Giggle and Hoot.

Living the dream if you ask me.

Catching big fish... so hard.

But sometimes there can be too much of a good thing. 

Hey Mum, Can You Do This?

You know what I think the worst thing about being 3 is? It's not the constant talking, or the selective day sleeps or even the epic meltdowns. That shit I can handle. What I can't handle is the silliness. The general hell for leather flibitty jibbityness that goes on from the moment Skye's eyes are open to the moment her head hits the pillow. I know I should be enjoying her excited enthusiasm but honestly it's just bloody exhausting! 

                              

      

And dangerous.

Welcome To The Danger Zone

Right now, Hayden is in that blissful stage where he is beginning to become his own little person, but has no strong views on anything. He is still yet to crawl (although I feel my days of being able to say this are numbered), he can sit on his own, feed himself pieces of food, he laughs and giggles and squeals with excitement. He sleeps. A lot. He is all-in-all a content, joyful, loving little bundle of baby boy.

This makes him dangerous.

His sweet, snuggly, chubby deliciousness is an assault on my measured and practical decision that there will be no more babies for Casa De Bond.

Welcome to the Danger Zone. 

The time when routine and predictability begins to emerge, when sleeping through is a consistent and reliable notion, when you can see a real excitement for the world around them in their eyes and your days are filled with a steady stream of 'firsts'.  The time when I am so enamoured by their squishy, smiley newness that I don't want it to end!

Cluck.

This was never part of the plan. The plan was to have two children, feel blessed and enjoy a life of regular sized cars and separate bedrooms and a balanced parent to child ratio. Aside from the whole pesky pregnancy and birth bit there is the patience factor. Something both myself and Mr Bond are quite lacking in. 

I know my limits and I know I have reached them.

But then this happens.

And this.

And then there is a little bit of this.

Suddenly the plan seems a little flawed.

Why can't he just stay this size forever?!? Is that too much to ask?

When I first held Hayden I was sure that our family was complete, my work was done, there was no need to ask for anything more. I still feel that way, but all this cute stuff is wearing me down. Selective memory is starting to kick in and all the hard stuff seems a little less hard. He didn't wake up THAT much, my nipples weren't THAT cracked, Skye didn't take THAT long to adjust. 

Honestly, the bullshit we tell ourselves.

Ask me now I feel about the matter 12 months from now when Skye will be getting ready to start big school and Hayden is heading into the terrible two's. It's highly likely I will laugh hysterically at the mere notion of more babies.

I just have to get through the Danger Zone.

Pray for me.

Err, not you Hayden, that's not helping.

Goodbye Little Home

I've made my fair share of complaints about our home since starting this blog. The lack of space, the too close for comfort neighbours, and of course, my total disdain for my kitchen. But now that it is time for us to move on to bigger and better things I can't help but feel a little sentimental. There are a lot of wonderful memories in this home. 

Our first home. 

Before

After

Writers Block? No, Just Clingy Toddler.

So many posts, so little brain capacity. That's whats happening around here right now. I have roughly four half written posts waiting for me to make sense of them but every time I sit down to finish one my brain goes into sleep mode. 


So I give up and watch Real Housewives, or Jersey Shore (because that won't kill my brain cells).


The only thing that is really going through my head lately is Skye's voice, in various states of whine. 


The joys of a toddler going through a clingy phase.


She has had them before and no doubt will have them again. Generally they coincide with a new tooth and since she still has a couple of molars to come through, I suspect that is probably the cause. But my God, Skye seems to have found a whole new level of demanding this week after insisting that she shower with me while I tried to wash my hair. 


Not such a big deal except that she wanted me to hold her the whole time. 14kgs of slippery toddler and shampoo are not a good combination. 


Mr Bond is away for work again which means there is no one to share the load. Not that it would help anyway, Skye wouldn't even let Gran get her out of the car this week because 'mum do it'. 


Actually I think 'mum do it', would have to be the sentence of the week.


Skye, can you put your shorts on? 'Mum do it.'


Mr Bond tries to get Skye out of her cot in the morning 'Mum do it.'


Skye, can you take your socks off? 'Mum do it.'


Skye, who's turn is it to take you to bed? 'Mum do it.'


Mr Bond tries to assist by running the bath 'Mum do it.'


I know I am good, but I am positive other people are just as capable of these menial tasks as I am. 


It's starting to impact on my ability to retain anything for more than two minutes. Real conversations with adults see me drifting off mid-sentence, asking the same question over and over, or just forgetting what I was about to say because Skye requires me to pick her up.


I don't generally like to indulge her too much during these clingy phases, but I just don't have the mental capacity to think long term about my actions. I didn't even realise I was already wearing the pair of earrings I just spent half an hour searching for this morning so I doubt I am capable of proactive parenting.


Sigh.


Here's hoping the teeth come through soon and I can stop writing rubbish posts like this!

Is There Ever Any Satisfaction With Now?

In my short time being a mum I have found that no matter what age your child is, people are always commenting on what lay ahead. Any remark you may make regarding your child’s behaviour or developmental milestone’s is met with some variation of “that’s nothing, wait until they are xxx, then you will be in trouble”. I find it frustrating that they seem unable to simply celebrate or in some cases sympathise with the situation we are living right at that moment. When I was enjoying the thrill of seeing Skye crawling for the first time, I didn’t want to be deflated by someone saying “it won’t be long now and she will be running around” as if the crawling itself was not enough. When I was up through the night with Skye cutting her first teeth, the last thing I wanted to hear was how horrific the molars will be. It wasn’t that I was in denial of the future, but the stages come so quickly already, the thought of what would be happening 6 – 12 months from now was more than I could cope with. Having said that, I am guilty of it too, but I still don’t understand why we do it. Is it because people want to shift the focus onto themselves and their own expert opinions? Is it just human nature to drive a child’s development? Or is it a reflection of the instant gratification culture we now live in? No matter what the case may be, it seems that right now is never good enough.

Being Polite and Acquiring Ugly Things

Fighting the clutter is a constant battle for many of us, no matter how regularly we do the big clean out, the ‘stuff’ just continues to creep in. The new stuff isn’t what I have trouble getting rid of though, it’s the older stuff that has been hanging around for years, not being used but can’t be disposed of because of the obligational attachment. Case in point is a dinner set that has been passed down to me. It has been sitting in the same box in the top of my wardrobe for the last 6 years, in fact this week was the first time I have even looked at it since I first received it. The whole set is in excellent condition but it is a brown floral 70’s nightmare and I quite simply can’t imagine myself ever using it.

Almost this ugly Image Source

10 Things I Forgot I Hated About Summer

Summer is my favourite season, why wouldn’t it be? The sun shines, the days are long, the beautiful scent of jasmine lingers in the air and somehow, beer just tastes so much better on a hot day. But no sooner does the weather start to heat up and I suddenly remember that there are a few things about summer that I am less than crazy about.

Wackydoo–Someone’s Turning 2!

With Skye’s 2nd birthday only a matter of weeks away we are deciding what kind of celebrations we want to have. The only thing is, does anyone really care when you turn 2? With all the fuss and fanfare that is a 1st birthday party I wonder whether it is actually necessary to do that again and who will really benefit from it if we do? Lets face it, the 1st birthday party is more of a pat on the back to the parents for surviving the first year, Skye wouldn’t have known that all those people were there for her, or what turning 1 even meant. There was only 2 people there that were even close to her age group so its not like she spent the afternoon running around the backyard and bouncing around on a jumping castle, she wasn’t even walking yet! I don’t think her experience 1 year on will be all that different.

Today I Love Being A Mother

I am looking around my house right now and there is a mountain of things I should be doing, but rather than worrying about the dishes in the sink or piles of washing on my bed I just want to savour the contentment I am feeling right now and share with you what it is I love about being able to be at home with Skye. This morning was a pretty typical Monday morning for us, I intentionally have no planned activities on a Monday because it gives Skye and me a chance to reset the routine after the excitement of the weekend and I try to get on top of the admin and cleaning for the week. Today since it was so hot the last thing I felt like doing was standing at a sink of hot water so I took Skye out into the garden for a play on her slippery dip and her current favourite toy – a storage box half full of water.

Having a Baby Ruined The Fantasy

I’m not talking about bedroom fantasy’s, well, not unless like me your bedroom fantasy is to have a Walk In Robe concealed behind your bedhead and some kind of ensuite (any kind will do!). See I am realising that since having Skye my priorities have changed so much that even when I fantasise about my dream house, I am conscious of baby-proofing and stair gates. Once upon a time my dream home looked like this:

The Wannabe Smacker

I started writing this post before I knew “The Slap” was going to air and I actually didn’t watch it so I am not going to say anything on the matter of slapping other people’s children other than to state that I do not in any way condone an adult raising their hand to another person’s child. I also have no issue with the length of time a mother breastfeeds their child. Right, now that we have that out of the way I can get on with my actual post for today.

In my know it all, I have all the answers pre-children life I was certain that smacking would form part of how we would discipline our children. Luke and I have always felt that being smacked during our childhood did not have an adverse effect on us and in fact we believe it was a crucial part of us learning the respect that we both still have for our parents. There was a clear hierarchy within the family unit and while I would never say that my parents were strict, I knew that their decision was final and it was not open for debate.

When Routine Becomes A Rut

I love a good routine, I like knowing what to expect and working to a plan. Once we established a routine for Skye I felt much more at ease because I knew what was suppose to be happening and when. Without routine and plans, I miss things, like paying the car insurance, or booking Bundy’s annual shots and this stresses me out. I am happiest when I have my whole week laid out so I can see where I am going long before I am suppose to be there. I don’t mind being busy, as long as I have booked it in, in fact, the busier the better. But what happens when your routine just becomes a rut?

When Did I Become A Grown Up???

I have had a rather unsettling revelation this week – apparently I am a grown up now. What gave it away you ask? No, not the fact that I will 30 soon, or that I have a mortgage or even that I have a child for that matter. The realisation came following a meeting with the bank to discuss Income Protection and Life Insurance which lead to the suggestion that Luke and I should have a Solicitor and (gulp) the writing of our Will’s. These things have been so far down on my list of priorities that they had never even rated a mention.

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Procrastinating

I was writing this post about how I am procrastinating about a specific issue, but I wrote the title, then faffed around for another 10 minutes before starting. Maybe I just have a short attention span… more likely I am totally avoiding the issue.

I have a phone call to make, it is long overdue and has been on my to-do list for months but I have managed to put it off with a million reasons for why I haven’t just done it already. Maybe like the no excuses To-Do list if I tell all of you I will actually do it.

 

When The Universe Speaks–Listen!

This week I have been a little consumed with the prospect of finding a newer and bigger house for us to stretch out in. Luke and I regularly check what houses have come up for sale in our area but often the homes that appeal are way above our budget because they come with the bonus of being waterfront (ahhh, someday…). Usually the ones in a more realistic price bracket are little improvement on what we already have, or are so old they would take too much time and money to reach their potential. We live in an area that was mostly holiday homes when the suburb was first established and as such there are very few homes available that offer more than 3 bedrooms unless they are one of the mansions built along the waterfront when people were able to take advantage of cheaper land prices (bastards). While we were checking out the listings over the weekend Luke pointed out a property that seemed to tick all the boxes and then some, so I called the agent and arranged a time to view the house, and that’s when I should have started listening to the signs…

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I Am A Bad Friend

I am a bad friend, and I feel awful about it. I have no excuses other than I am slack and have the brain capacity of a goldfish so I tend to forget things as soon as I see something shiny, or you pour me a glass of wine. A couple of months ago it was birthday party central in our group and we seemed to have a gathering of some kind (sometimes more) every weekend. Here I was merrily dancing on stages and high fiving people in expensive restaurants and all the while I had forgotten about another friend who had invited me to her 30th birthday that same weekend.

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Why Daddy’s Always Get To Be The Nice Guy

Over the weekend we had the chance to get outside and enjoy the beautiful weather. For the first time in many weeks we didn’t have to go anywhere, no one was sick or injured and it wasn’t raining miserable weather. With Luke being away all week I have noticed we are all making the most of our time together, more so than we do when we see each other daily. Saturday we had hoped to spend the day on the boat and have a picnic on one of the nearby islands but it was still a little cold for that. Since nanny had come over to visit we decided we should still take the boat out even just for a little while. Nanny had a great time showing Skye how to fish even though we didn’t manage to catch a single thing.

Listography–Things I’d Change About Myself

The lovely Kate at Kate Takes 5 is asking us to look inwardly this week and list a few things that we would like to change about ourselves. She hasn’t made it easy either, she has specifically instructed us to not focus on physical appearance but rather examine some of our perceived personality flaws. As I read through her list I realised that I probably would have listed these things too especially to be more affectionate and more patient, but lucky for you it turns out I have quite a few things that could use a little work…

Who Is She Trying to Impress Part 4

Following on from the insightful and thought provoking posts by Gemma at My Big Nutshell and Daisy at Daisy Roo and Two this week I wanted to share my own experiences of taking on too much and not knowing when to ask for help. As Daisy said, the concept of motherhood as a sacrifice is fairly common even though she herself does not see it that way. I sometimes feel I have sacrificed a few of the things that I once thought defined me, but each day I discover new rewards for the things I gave up. I know there are times when I resented having to be the responsible one while those around me continued to live their lives seemingly unaffected by my shift in priorities. But like anything, with time comes confidence and through this confidence I have been able to embrace being a mum.