The Accidental Housewife

Autumn leaves

2011-05-22T21:36:00.002+10:00

I raked a pile of jumping leaves in the front yard for Peanut. She didn't have a clue what to do with them. I showed her - right when the neighbours were pulling up into our shared driveway. These things always happen at the worst time. I think I probably blushed about the same colour as the leaves, so I''m hoping me galavanting around wasn't too obvious. Ahem. Anyway...

She soon got the jist of it.

And now, I can't get the kid back inside.

And it's FREEEEZING. Why do kids always seem to have broken thermostats, and be totally immune to cold?

In other news, Bug has discovered her feet. Big news, people, big news. Have a lovely week!

Cooking with kids

2011-05-22T12:56:00.001+10:00

I've been asked to write a monthly article over at An Amazing Child. Please head on over and read my first attempt, then stay and have a look around. It's a great site!

Here's a taste:

Imagine if someone told you that there was a magic pill to help develop your kid's numeracy, literacy and common sense, encourage her to eat her vegies, and give her a sense of achievement all while having quality fun. You'd want to know where to buy it, right? The answer? Your supermarket! Read more here...

Gumboots

2011-04-23T05:00:00.001+10:00

It's not often that you wait for a rainy day when you have a toddler.

Usually rain means long mornings inside trying to come up with another entertaining craft idea or letting the linen cupboard contents be turned into a tent city.

And since we don't live in the tropics anymore, I can't just turf a naked Peanut outside regardless and consider it an extra, warm shower.

After a week of stuck-insided-ness I went out and bought her a pair of gumboots, and promised as soon as the rain eased up she could go and puddle jump. The rain stopped before breakfast one day so here she is, outside, on a freezing morning, blissfully happy in her gumboots and pyjamas.

Jump jump jump!

Chocolate Cake

2011-04-22T17:00:00.002+10:00

I was going to write words...

...but these photos pretty much speak for themselves.

Om nom nom nom

Happy Happy Joy Joy!

2011-04-21T17:00:00.001+10:00

It is a sad fact of our chosen lifestyle that we move often. And this means that we leave friends behind FAR too often.

But (Hooray!) my Best Friend in the Whole Wide World (Alleluia!) is moving from where we lived last year, to where I live this year! Squee!!

Even more exciting, she is bringing down not only Peanut's Best Little Friend in the Whole Wide World, but a brand spankin' new baby!

I can wait to see my friend. Peanut can't wait to see her little friend, and I can't WAIT to meet the baby. Hopefully when my Bug is old enough to know what a friend is, she will choose Baby as her first. Wouldn't that be lovely?

Secret pirates

2011-04-20T17:00:00.000+10:00

The man who does our tax is a pirate.

Not a take-all-our-money pirate of industry, or a burn-extra-CDs techno pirate, but a proper, honest, craggy, eye patch wearing pirate*.

And a few days ago I took Bug and Peanut to the park, and we saw another pirate! A lovely lady had taken the tunic, tights and buckled boots look a step further, and added a low slung belt and hoop earrings.

Clearly there are many secret pirates living amongst us. If there's a club, I want to join!

*he did have some reasonable explanation about glaucoma surgery - I chose to ignore this in my desperate hope that there are, in fact, secret pirate clubs in my city...

Toilet training

2011-04-19T07:30:00.001+10:00

We've been toilet training here in the Accidental house.

We'd been toying with the idea for a couple of months and it was clear that Peanut was ready, but I was dragging the chain. To be honest, I just was a bit overwhelmed by the logistics of balancing toilet training a toddler with the needs of a 4 month old baby who either needs to be fed or tucked into bed seemingly every five minutes.

We had a bit of incidental success earlier in the year, but then Peanut caught the winter lurgy going around and it didn't seem fair to drag her to the bathroom when she could barely get off the couch. Poor baby!

So two weeks ago I bit the bullet and decided to stick to training for Three Whole Weeks.

Week One - Peanut doesn't get it. A trip to the loo results in a tantrum and a floor puddle two minutes later. Mr Awesome sums it up by saying "it's not really toilet training, it's more like just-not-wearing-nappies...." I am very glad we have tiled floors. We spend plenty of time outside, with good reason. I start to bribe her with stickers.

Week Two - Peanut works out what needs to go where. This means regular trips to the loo meet with success, but puddles result if I get distracted... Which I do regularly. Once again I am VERY glad we have tiled floors. Peanut gets so wiggly when she needs to go she loses her words and can't tell me. I get a real, honest to god bruise on my head from beating it against the pantry in frustration. I go out and buy more stickers. And chocolate (for me).

Day One, Week Three - I hear a flush and race to the bathroom, expecting to be missing something expensive or drain-cloggy. Instead, I find Peanut happily completing her business with a massive grin and a huge sense of accomplishment. This feat is repeated twice more the following day. I cover her in stickers and give her my chocolate.

She did it! She's trained! Well done Peanut! Have a sticker...

A new dress

2011-04-18T17:00:00.000+10:00

I'm in desperate need of a new dress. We've moved from the backwater tropics to "big town", and my current clothes just aren't suitable. Who would have thought that an endless array of tshirts, shorts and thongs (the foot kind!) would not be accepted attire everywhere? Never mind the nuances of the weather...

So it's time for a new dress. Unfortunately the realities of two small kids, a hungry husband and one income just don't stretch to couture. So instead I am dressing my blog! It's cheap and changeable, perfect. I hope you grow accustomed to the new look, but prepared for it to change - there is no sign of a real new dress on my horizon!

That bl**dy CHICKEN!!!

2011-01-16T14:11:00.000+11:00

Peanut received a gift from a favourite uncle. She LOVES presents (as most toddlers do) and is capable of playing with a new toy for hours and hours and hours and hours and well, you get the picture. And here's a picture to help you get the picture more clearly:

Yes. It's Elmo. In a chicken suit. And he dances. And he sings, loudly. There is nothing subtle about our friend Elmo. I cannot WAIT until the batteries run out.

Once dear Uncle Dave has his own progeny, I'll be sure to give them an airhorn and a drum kit as soon as they are born. Just you wait, Dave!

Welcome Bug!

2011-01-16T13:38:00.000+11:00

Dear Baby,

our family was pretty full. We had the basics, a husband and wife...

We added a few dogs...

And then a baby...

But we weren't quite done.

And then almost two months ago, in the late evening, we added another baby, you. Our last one, a beautiful little girl. And now our family is complete!

Welcome Bug!

There is no doubt that you and Peanut are sisters.

Peanut left, Bug right

You are adored by her, given hundreds of 'tuddles' a day, and smothered in love. She wipes your face, kisses your hands and gives you her toys. You are a fabulous sleeper, stirring only one a night for a quick feed (we won't count that night after injections, that wasn't your fault little one!)

You took to feeding quickly and painlessly. In fact, other than the copious vomiting at every opportunity, you are pretty much the ideal baby. Thanks Bug, I sincerely appreciate your cooperation.

I think you may stay.

Much love, Mummy.

The New House

2010-10-06T18:31:00.000+11:00

Here's a small preview of the new house.

This is our future street. It's a 40km/h zone, 100m to the park, 200m to the public pool, and 100m to the playgroup hut.

This is the bathroom where I will splash and scrub the kidlets.

This is the backyard where they will play while I hang laundry (and there will be alot!)

This is the fully fenced courtyard where they can ride bikes, paint and play with sand in full view of the kitchen.

I am so excited! Three weeks until moving day...

2010-10-05T22:28:00.000+11:00

When Mr Awesome came home from his long overseas jaunt, we decided that our daughter was so exceptionally wonderful that we should probably try to replicate our achievement as soon as possible. (We are a little biased!) Mr A and I ended up being remarkably successful in our attempt, and two weeks later a second little Miss Accident was growing away happily.

We are expecting her to arrive in about two months, I am so excited! Since Mr A and I are planning to stop at two kids, that means this Christmas will not only be the first Mr A spends with any of his children, but the first he spends with ALL of his children. Hooray!

But before Christmas, we have a fair few things to do... I have to wrap up work, and we have to pack up the house and move all our belongings to a different city. I have to spend three weeks alone looking after our toddler while Mr Awesome finishes up at his work. I have to unpack a house and settle in enough to make a toddler comfortable, until Mr A can come down and help me finish it off. And I have to cross my legs and wait, keeping the next little Miss safe until our family is together again. So gosh, if I'm not up at 2am dealing with my tiny pregnant bladder, I'm up thinking about this stuff. Pointless? Totally. Roll on Christmas!

A quick catch up...

2010-05-03T08:44:00.001+10:00

I've finally come to the conclusion that mothering, full time work, and blogging can't coexist in my universe. Until I am in a position to blog more regularly (and I want to be!) I will just have to be satisfied with a monthly update. So, since it is now May, here is one for March....

In March, Daddy had been home for about two weeks. We were starting to settle in as a family again, and Baby and Daddy had re-bonded and were ecstatic in each other's company.

We spent most weekends doing family things: a trip to the wildlife park:

We walked up my favourite hill:

We went to a very dear friend's wedding and had another very dear friend take a family portrait:

And we had a slightly-belated-but-no-less-important first birthday party:

A girlfriend had my camera for the day and, despite assuring me that it was completely unintentional, the majority of the birthday shots feature either my rear end or a good look down my dress - Mr Awesome thinks the photos are great! This is one of the better ones.

And finally, I couldn't leave without the addition of a gratuitous Archie photo:

Happy March!

The Childcare Debate

2010-05-02T20:46:00.000+10:00

The biggest hurdle for me returning to work was finding a decent childcare spot for baby. Someplace that will love and cherish her almost as much as I do. I thought this was a total pipedream.

Part time work was not an option for me - there has to be someone in the role full time, and there is no one in a similar situation with whom I can job share. This means baby is in care for a minimum of nine hours a day, longer if I get caught up with something urgent and can't get away. That's a minimum total of 45 hours a week, or 52% of her normal waking hours.

It kills me that she will be brought up during her most formative years by someone who isn't her Mummy. What if she isn't loved enough? What if she doesn't receive enough affection? What if there isn't enough guidance and discipline, or even worse, too much? What if she thinks I have deserted her entirely? How do I tell if she likes the food I send? How do I know she is eating enough? What if the carer is the panicking type, and can't manage an emergency? What if a tropical cyclone comes in while I'm at work and sweeps my baby off to Oz? I have lain awake for many nights rolling these questions over like heavy mind stones.

Rack off, lady!

2010-02-03T22:17:00.000+11:00

I don't think anyone should pass judgement on how long mothers choose to breastfeed. It's just one of those personal decisions that is soley between you and your baby.

So I was pretty ticked off when I had a discussion with a woman from work and she chose to adopt an attitude of disbelief that I was still breastfeeding baby when she was a whole eleven months old. I also had the audacity to admit that I would probably still be feeding her in three months. Oh the shame!

I am very comfortable in my decision to keep feeding baby as long as she wants it, as long as it doesn't become wierd. If she is still feeding when she is thinking about going off to uni, I may have let it go on a little too long. But if your baby is still young enough to have her age measured in months and not have it sound silly, she is definitely still young enough to breastfeed!

The woman was tasked with finding people to send away for a kind of jury duty. People were randomly selected and then she had a very specific list of questions to determine our suitability for the role. One of these questions was "Will any member of your family suffer hardship if you are required to be away for the duration of the trial?" When I explained the breastfeeding, she then asked me a whole bunch of really personal, aggressive questions about timings of feeds, and how I manage it with work. She acted like she was trying to catch me out. Seriously, who would lie about something like that on the spur of the moment? It would take me hours to think up an excuse that good! The worst thing was, she has a grown son of her own.

She still has the power to send me away if she chooses to, but I doubt she has factored in my determined streak.

Nine years ago I made the decision to sign my life over to work - they control where I live, who I live with, the type of house I live in, and what state and town I work in, and then they pull me away from these living arrangements for long, relatively unannounced periods. But I never signed over Baby's life. My work was not her decision, and I have a duty to do the best I can to protect her from the upheaval that comes with the job. And I will be damned if I let one judgemental person decide when I stop breastfeeding my child!

So rack off lady, these breasts are not heading west.

Time Management

2010-01-24T11:05:00.001+11:00

“Don’t say you don’t have enough time. You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Michelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson and Albert Einstein”

- H. Jackson Brown

But Helen Keller, Mother Teresa, Michelangeo and da Vinci never married or had kids.

And although Einstein and Jefferson married and had children, Einstein left his to run off with his cousin, and Jefferson had slaves to wash all his progeny's nappies.

So, Mr Brown, although I love your Life's Little Instruction Book, perhaps instructions on how to cook dinner, iron tomorrow's work clothes and put a baby to bed simultaneously would be more useful. Maybe you can write me an instructable.

Kind regards,

TAH

Christmas Fairy

2010-01-01T22:04:00.001+11:00

We had a fabulous Christmas.

I set my mind to it, and made it happen.

There were speedbumps to this fabulosity (is that a word?). There were bound to be - 10 days with the in-laws, a week with my mum, and five seperate flights with a baby, luggage, stroller and portacot in tow. Mixing relatives, especially some as whacky as mine, is always fraught with risk.

I carefully ignored all the problems.

Instead I focused on the good stuff. Trips to the zoo. Trips to the beach. Trips to the park. Shopping. Christmas cake and chocolate. Trips to see Santa.

This was the only photo where Santa had his eyes open and Baby was looking towards the camera. And is this is the best, you can imagine the worst....

I think she looks like a little boy.

Perhaps this should be the Official 2009 Accidental Family Christmas Image instead.

It's very fitting, gracefully capturing the moment of Baby dragging every last thing out of my purse.

Again.

I love it!

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-09T14:24:00.000+11:00

Dear you,

Merry Christmas! Thanks for dropping by, your support and comments during the year have never failed to make me smile.

I will be travelling over Christmas, doing the rounds of Australia visiting family.

Because I will be off having heaps of fun in real life, I will be giving this blog a little break of it's own.

I hope you have a fabulous holiday season. See you in the new year!

Happy Anniversary Mr Accident!

2009-12-07T23:53:00.000+11:00

So, what's a girl to do when her handsome husband is far, far away on their wedding anniversary?

Why, make a husband-on-a-stick, of course.

Just a few minutes with an old picture, a decent colour printer, some cardboard and clear contact paper, tape it onto some old scrap wood and voila - a poor substitute for the real deal!

Baby thought it was pretty funny.

After she had a good look, and checked it really was a picture of her Daddy, she puckered up and practiced her smooching.

Her baby smooches can be a little... enthusiastic. And quite often they involve the occasional tooth mark and a healthy helping of slobber. I was glad I covered the picture in plastic. I think she has been getting kissing tips from the dogs.

Speaking of dogs, someone wasn't too enthusiastic about the new addition to the house.

After a thorough warning bark, and some manly, nervous prancing, Archie gave up and took refuge in the coffee table.

He is a terrible pansy. Not only is he afraid of disembodied owners, but balloons, feather dusters and Christmas lights. It's a hard life for a dog.

My friends threw me a BBQ in honour of the day. Of course I took husband-on-a-stick.

It was in public.

With people we knew walking past.

I propped him up and he watched the whole thing. And I made him kiss me, too. I am actually amazed I have friends who love me regardless of my antics.

These same long suffering friends brought me a massive bunch of beautiful flowers and an awesome present, too. It was a "Meet Me At Mike's" craft book, stuffed full of creative ideas that made me want to make Every Single Thing in the book immediately.

When I opened the book I noticed a lot of post-it notes. One of my friends had gone through the book and tagged all the things she wants as presents from me in the near future. I suspect the gift was not entirely altruistic!

I'm so glad I don't need friends-on-a-stick, too.

Nienie

2009-12-05T22:18:00.002+11:00

In other news, this is by far the most beautiful photo I have seen today. If you don't already read Nienie, drop by. You won't regret it.

Photo from Nienie Dialogues

Fashion folly

2009-12-05T22:02:00.002+11:00

I admit it, I slipped into new mum fashion land. My wardrobe mainly consisted of tshirts, jeans and baggy shorts.

The truth is I had been there for a long while before I was pregnant, too. I spent so much time in a uniform at work that when the weekend finally rolled around I just wanted to be comfortable. I would go into a cheap chain store a couple of times a year and buy a few new tshirts, or replace my jeans when they became too worn, and that was it.

Having so much time off work this year really brought my wardrobe woes into stark relief. It came to a head when I took Baby to a play centre, and was by far the worst dressed person there. I didn't receive any dirty looks but I was thoroughly ignored. (In my defence, I had just been to Bunnings Hardware and lugged dirty bags of sand, and the clientele of the centre that day all seemed to be members of the popped collars and pearls brigade. But still...)

So I cleaned out my wardrobe. I waited until Baby was asleep then tried on every single item of clothing that I owned. I made two piles: flattering, and non flattering. It didn't matter if it was gym gear or a silk dress, if it didn't fit well, or was too worn or stained, it was out. This left me with about three shirts, a dress, my new jeans and a pair of shorts. Since it takes a full day for clothes to dry in this humidity, this was clearly not going to be sufficient!

Having all my clothes laid out also allowed me to take stock of my clothing habits. Although I favour a clean cut, slightly preppy look, this was not reflected in my clothes. I also noticed that I am far more likely to wear out a tshirt than stain or tear it - clearly I could look after my clothes, and the overall shabby look was coming from the cheap fabric, not my garment care.

It only took a couple of hours at the shops to restock my wardrobe. Although it was almost an automatic response to head to the same cheap chain stores and repeat my previous folly, I resisted. The clothes I bought were not expensive in the Gucci / Prada / Ralph sense of the word, but they were not cheap and nasty, either.

I chose a lovely linen shirt that will improve and soften with washing, which is lucky, as I'm sure Baby will take advantage. I also picked out a nice silk shirt. Although this one is hand wash, it is amazingly cool in the tropical heat and actually quite easy to launder - I've already done it twice (thanks Baby!) I added a couple more cotton, collared shirts and a new cotton dress. I tried to pick out clothes that were less casual than a tshirt, but didn't scream "repurposed work wear" and I think I mostly succeeded.

Since the cleanout, I have already noticed the change in people's attitude when they meet me. I didn't change my demeanour in any way, I just changed my clothes. I now get more smiles, more doors opened and more polite responses from shop keepers. I went back to the play centre and people approached me just to chat. A cleaner, neater type of person struck up a conversation with me at Baby Rhyme Time. This could all be a gross coincidence, but I doubt it. I now feel that I portray externally the way I feel inside, and it's a very comfortable feeling. I recommend it!

I'm being followed by a moon shadow

2009-12-02T22:47:00.000+11:00

The moon tonight is fat, heavy and full. It's leering down into the warm tropical night; close enough to reach up and squeeze.

Tonight is a night for gin and tonics with plenty of ice, served in crystal on a wooden verandah. Tonight is a night for skinny dipping in a public pool, and then climbing back over the fence and running home barefoot. Tonight is a night for wading out into the ocean fully clothed in jeans, then lying back and watching the sky.

It's a night for lying on damp sheets with the window shutters open, and listening to the night birds complain about the abnormal light. It's a fine night for taking the dogs out, just to amble slowly along and let them burn off their werewolf induced energy, gamboling by the lake.

But I need to stay home. I need to be sensible. I need to watch over baby, listen for her cries and keep her safe. Because I want her to grow up and create her own memories of full-moon nights, too. I hope they are wonderful.

The Joy of Teleconferencing

2009-11-30T10:22:00.002+11:00

Technology is fabulous.

Technology means a small girl can talk to her Daddy even when he is far away.

And the best thing about teleconferencing?

Pants are entirely optional. No one will ever know...

Why I shouldn't window shop online

2009-11-27T23:11:00.003+11:00

I have a crush.

A hat crush.

Isn't it beautiful?

I would wear this to go to the markets. I would wear it to the pool and while strolling along the shoreline. I am a hat person. It grew on me slowly. It's an occupational hazard.

Here is a picture of a woman (who's not me) wearing it in a colour (that I don't want). And it's still gorgeous (especially since it's not me).

Unfortunately, it's not available from an Australian retailer, and shipping from overseas somehow costs more than the hat itself. So my hat crush will go unrequited. Johnny Depp and this hat have a lot in common.

LOLZ for Kate

2009-11-27T22:36:00.006+11:00

Kate over at 'Killing a fly' asked for lolz.

Here are a couple from the Accidental Household:

Providence

2009-11-25T21:04:00.001+11:00

My friend had a baby a month and a half after I did. She took a little while off work but had to go back, part time, due to her family's financial situation. Things are pretty tight for her family and I try to support her where I can. I helped her develop a budget, I give encouragement when she asks for it, and we only hang out together at places where we can be frugal - think fewer shoppping trips, far more park, swimming and walking dates.

She mentioned the other day that she and her husband are trying for another baby. This is great, exciting news! To be rich in family is clearly so much better than to be rich financially. However, it will be tough for them.

A few nights ago, very late, I had a sudden feeling - it was a drive, a brain wave. It came to me from nowhere. I climbed out of bed, went right to the back of the pantry and pulled out the dusty bottle of pregnancy vitamins that I had consistantly forgotten to take during my pregnancy. I had almost a full jumbo bottle of pills left.

I was meeting my friend the next afternoon, and I took the vitamins to her. I handed them over it like it was no big deal, just threw them into her nappy bag with an "I thought you might be able to use these". I certainly didn't expect her to be as overwhelmed and thankful as she was. It took me totally by surprise.

It turns out she had run out of her pregnancy vitamins the night before, so the next morning she headed straight to the chemist. But she didn't buy any - they were all too expensive for her strict budget. She had stood there in the chemist, struggling with the dilemma of buying sufficient groceries for her family, or baby vitamins for a child not yet conceived. She sensibly picked the food. However, greater forces were at work. Somehow the amazing universe pulled together and made sure she got what she needed. I bet that a healthy baby comes along soon too!

Teddy bear, teddy bear....

2009-11-24T23:17:00.001+11:00

Oh hello there!

My name is Balthasar. (You can call me Balty for short, I'm sure we'll be great friends.)

I will be tucked into a stocking on Christmas eve, to make a little baby girl very happy.

I'm looking foward to it! I dressed up especially. Just look at my snuggly jumper, it has snowflakes, just like my home at the North Pole.

And look at my snuggly hood. It's perfect for keeping my ears warm during sleigh rides with Santa.

I hope it is suitable for my new home in Australia. Tropical Australia. I guess we'll find out....

See you soon Baby!

I should be sleeping

2009-11-23T23:12:00.001+11:00

"I never get enough sleep. I stay up late at night, 'cause I'm Night Guy. Night Guy wants to stay up late. 'What about getting 5 hours sleep?' 'Oh, that's Morning Guy's problem. That's not my problem, I'm Night Guy. I stay up as late as I want.' So when you get up in the morning, you're exhausted, groggy: 'Ooooh I hate that Night Guy!' See, Night Guy always screws Morning Guy. There's nothing Morning Guy can do. The only thing Morning Guy can do is try and oversleep often enough so that Day Guy loses his job and Night Guy has no money to go out anymore."

-Jerry Seinfeld.

This is me, without the going out.

I'm going to bed now.... or I might clean the bathrooms, sew my friends' Christmas presents, wash the dogs, do some laundry, write to my grandpa or surf the net. But I really should go to bed.

A very early Christmas "tree"

2009-11-22T22:59:00.001+11:00

I haven't been feeling very festive.

It's hard being festive when some days you feel like you are the only one hanging out on your branch.

I'm probably missing Mr Accident a little. Probably.

Normally I wouldn't be concerned about Christmas this early but I need to get motivated, and bring a little festive spirit into the Accidental Home. I am planning to make my friends Christmas presents and give them out at the family centre Christmas party in just one week. One week! Oh dear.

It didn't feel right putting up the whole Christmas tree, and with a sucky, energetic, mobile baby it seemed like a doubly bad idea. Instead I dragged half a dead tree home from the scrub near the house, pruned it back and stuck it up with little clear hooks and string. It's well clear of Baby, fills up some serious wall space, and is very low effort. And when Christmas is over? Just rescue the few scant ornaments and drag the rest outside for the gardener to deal with. That is about the maxium effort I am willing to expend on decorating for Christmas, especially this early.

The good news is I am now well on the way with the presents. Here is the prerequisite 'Baby's First Christmas' ornament. It looks a little out of place, but I love it anyway.

There, doesn't that look better?

Mr Bibbity Bobbity Bunny has a bath

2009-11-21T21:35:00.001+11:00

We had an unpleasant incident here today.

This is Mr Bibbity Bobbity Bunny. He is a particular friend of Baby. His little ears are just the right size for grabbing, to drag him along while crawling towards adventure.

His belly is just the right size for two little hands to circle and squeeze. His face is very understanding when there are babbling baby secrets to be told.

Unfortunately, Mr Bibbity Bobbity was a little too adventurous today. He was shown what Baby had for lunch yesterday. A light sponge bath wasn't going to cut it, so he was well and truly washed, and now he is hanging in the laundry looking particularly sorry for himself.

But tomorrow he will be dry and smell like Mrs Gardener's Jasmine and Chamomile, which is a vast improvement on his pungent scent an hour ago. Poor Mr Bibbity Bobbity Bunny.

I won!

2009-11-20T23:43:00.001+11:00

Against *enormous* odds, I won a giveaway over at "Killing a Fly with a Ukulele... is probably the wrong thing to do"! A whole $50 to spend as I like at Buyster Lighting. I didn't even know this online store existed, but they have some nice stuff.

Now the challenge is picking out something that I like, that doesn't have me blowing the budget. Because I do have a very soft spot for Tiffany lamps, like this one.

But I already have a Tiffany table lamp (thanks Mum!) so another would just be greedy. Perhaps a Tiffany floor lap? It would look fabulous beside my favourite reading chair.

But wait, look at this! So cute! So green! Perfect for the jungle themed nursery...

But in the end, I looked in my wallet, counted my pennies, and went with this one:

Sensible. Practical. Flexible. Perfect for the dark dark sewing room. It is actually cute in it's own way - it looks like it has a cheeky personality tucked under it's bonnet.

And since I've given a shameless plug for the Buyster Lighting (my affections are for sale, and at a low low price!) I will now plug Kate's blog, too. Go and pay her a visit, her kids are cute, her dog is naughty, and her adventures make excellent reading.

Go on... I'll be here when you get back.

Hill walking

2009-11-19T22:32:00.002+11:00

There is a massive hill near my house.

(this is not my house)

I try and hill walk every day.

Not necessarily this hill. Sometimes it's just the hill between the bedroom and the kitchen. That can be a big hill some mornings.

Sometimes it's the emotional hill of dropping my beautiful baby at childcare. That's a pretty big hill.

But when I wake up early and fresh enough, and I have time to get up and back down and still beat the tropical heat, I walk this hill.

Baby loves it, I leave her in her pyjamas and she nods off again.

That's me looking all sweaty and red there. That's baby, sleeping like.. a baby. When I'm old and grey I'm going to make her push me up this hill in my wheelchair.

My favourite bit of the whole hill is not the view, although it's spectacular.

It's not the interesting flora or fauna.

It's this bit.

This is where I have a rest on the way up.

Taking the occasional rest is very important, on every hill. Even the bedroom to kitchen ones.

Especially when you didn't realise that the wheels on the stroller were completely flat, and it feels like you've been pushing wet sand uphill. Not that I'd know anything about that. My stroller wheels are always fully pumped. Aren't yours?

Diary of a Mum

2009-11-16T20:26:00.000+11:00

Make baby a tiny fruit salad. Baby eats some fruit salad. Baby gets bored. Baby tries to take spoon. Give baby own spoon. Baby digs into bowl and flicks pawpaw onto my clean shorts. Make mental note to change shorts.

Feed baby more fruit. Baby uses her spoon as a sword and parries every mouthful. Take baby’s spoon. Baby refuses to eat any more fruit. Soft lumps are Too Much Like Hard Work. Baby still hungry. Five minutes until we have to leave.

Get yoghurt. Hide hated cereal in yoghurt as extra iron. Feed baby yoghurt. Baby finds cereal, complains. Feed baby more yoghurt. Baby eats it anyway. Baby is getting tired eyes. Rubs hands from yoghurt covered mouth into eyes and through hair. Baby falls asleep coated in yoghurt. Pick up baby. Knock bowl and get yoghurt on shorts. Underline mental note to change shorts.

Wash sleeping baby. Change sleeping baby’s nappy. Rush sleeping baby out the door, 5 minutes behind time.

Drive to Rhyme Time. Misread the clock, actually one hour early.
Sit in car while baby sleeps. Forgot book, read carseat manual instead. Wish library opened an hour earlier.

Baby wakes up for Rhyme Time. Go inside. Realise I forgot to change shorts and the stains look dodgy. Hold squirming baby on my lap for the hour in an effort to hide shorts. Smile encouragingly as the librarian wrangles 30 toddlers from the Future Soccer Hooligan Development Program.

Best friend arrives. Notices stains in less than a minute. Laughs, compares stains. Mine are newer but larger. Leave Hooligans, get coffee.

Pizza

2009-11-15T21:21:00.000+11:00

Friday night in the Accidental Household is Pizza Night. This usually goes hand in hand with Beer Night!

I have been keeping up the tradition about once a month while Mr Accident has been away, but not necessarily on a friday - I'm lucky if I know exactly what day of the week it is, most of my days seem to run happily together.

I bought a pizza today, one of the frozen, boxed types. It was "Double Beef 'n' Bacon" apparently. But when I read the ingredient list it was a nasty surprise. It started out with flour, water and cheese. Fair enough. But then... what's this? "Manufactured Bacon"? At least it actually contained pork as the main ingredient. As I read further, I passed tomato paste and onions to reach "Manufactured Beef". Oh dear. This contained no beef at all. None. Just thickener, flavour and salt. Yuck! I was rapidly losing my appetite.

Since I am loathe to skip pizza night all together, it looks like I will have to make my own from now on. Any tips are greatly appreciated!

Baby bum

2009-11-15T20:13:00.001+11:00

It took a long while to convince me that cloth nappies would work for my family. I thought of them as smelly, unsanitary, laundry inducing nightmares. I had visions of soaker buckets and leakage. I was so so wrong.

I use peapods, and I love them. They have a waterproof liner attached to a poly lining, and then you stuff a bamboo insert inside. They close with press studs sewn onto the nappy, so they are no harder to put on than a normal disposable. They don't need soaking, I just put them in a lidded bucket and wash them each evening with the daily normal load. Too easy!

The best part is that now my bin isn't full up, and it smells much nicer.

Oh, who am I kidding. The best part is the adorable, massive, cloth baby bum. Look at this!

mmmmm, muffins

2009-11-14T17:09:00.000+11:00

Now that my teeny jeans fit (just thought I'd mention that again...) it means my not-so-teeny jeans don't fit.

In fact, the jeans I bought as skin tight two years ago are now positively loose. They have progressed from "skinny" jeans to the "boyfriend" jeans look. This is fine because I like the casual look, and probably wear it more often than is strictly socially acceptable. However, I also need a decent pair of dark, skinny jeans. It's a wardrobe staple, I'm sure you understand.

So I hustled down to the shops while baby was in daycare (more on that in a later post, probably) and searched out a suitable pair. And while I was there, I met the lady who, in my opinion, is single handedly responsible for every muffin top in Townsville.

For those who don't know, a muffin top is the result of too tight jeans meeting... well, too many muffins, really. Here's an example:

photo by Malingering

Muffin tops are scary. Muffin tops are the result of delusion. Muffin tops should be outlawed - they can make perfectly slim girls look like behemoths just because their jeans are one size too small.

The shop assistant didn't just want to sell me jeans, she wanted me to walk out of that shop with a muffin top, too. She insisted on it. She tried to convince me that the comfortable, flattering pants that I had chosen were a size too large, because they had a teeny little bit of extra space under my bum. Now, I do not have masses of junk in my trunk, but I am certainly not going to aim for a shrink wrapped tush if the cost is a muffin mountain swelling out just two inches away! I know what looks worse.

I shudder to think of how many women this professional jeans-fitter has advised, and how many have fallen for the "one size too small sell down". It must be a lot, because I see them around every day. It can't be sensible for all these girls walking around with their hip joints compressed, and unable to sit down comfortably. I would understand if it made them look better, like high heels, but it seems to be pain with no gain.

So, repeat after me ladies, you might be able to do them up, but it does NOT make them okay. Check the mirror!

Bedroom Makeover Part Two

2009-11-12T21:18:00.000+11:00

Here it is! Finally! Part two of the bedroom makeover, the "after" shots.

Now I'm no Pioneer Dooce Nester blogger, my photos are very very inartistic and don't fully express the way I feel about this room. But stick with me, we'll give it a go anyway!

No, silly, that's the before shot. I didn't spend good time and money aiming for dorm room chic (but that sure is a cute baby).

This is the after shot:

See those big gorgeous pillows? I heart them. Lots. And they were cheeeeeeap - we could have bought the ones with the proper down filling for a kabillion dollars, but since we aren't going to actually sleep on them, just recline gracefully and read, and maybe have a pillow fight or two, we went for the polystuffing option. They still look great though.

And see the pretty lamps?

Ohhh, I LOVE lamp. It took a while to find ones at the right height and price, but Target came through for me.

Finally, here's the bit that was holding up the grand reveal:

A ragamuffin wreath, in the tradition of the Nester's famous ragamuffin garlands. I bought some old shirts from the Salvation Army in the largest sizes I could find (they make huge shirts!) and chopped them up. This was heaps cheaper than buying fabric new, and I didn't have any blue toned material in my stash.

Because I am not very good at slapdash, I tied the different fabrics on in a set pattern, but I did get casual enough to cut very roughly and leave on all the buttons. I think it makes it cuter! It only took an afternoon, including buying the shirts, chopping them all up, making the wreath frame, playing with the baby, tying on the fabric strips, working out how to hang the wreath and heading back out to buy hooks, and then actually putting it all up on the wall.

That's the initial of our surname stuck there in the middle. I think I might pull it back down and paint it white, but I want to live with it in it's natural state for a few days and see if it grows on me. I'm lazy like that.

I am so happy with the new bedroom; it's gone from a place of mild decorative annoyance to a room I really love.

Cranky

2009-11-10T21:54:00.000+11:00

I've got my grumpy pants on today.

Mr Accident has been trying to call me all day.

It's hard for him to get time to talk. He has an important job and he's very busy.

We made a time to talk but he couldn't make it. It wasn't his fault. And so we made another one. And he couldn't make that one either. So we made another....

But he rings up to tell me he doesn't have time to call. I end up sitting here all day waiting, like a fat girl with halitosis on prom night.

And when he does ring, the baby's just nodded off and gets frightened awake. Or I'm juggling nappies at bath time. Or I'm elbow deep in... never mind.

So when he did finally have time to talk, I was so grumpy about not being able to talk to him all day I couldn't even hold up my end of the conversation. And so now I'm even more grumpy. Harrummppff.

Mr Accident, I miss you!

Skinny jeans

2009-11-08T23:36:00.000+11:00

I think every woman probably has a pair of jeans in her cupboard that she would love to fit into again. The pair that looked fabulous and fitted like a glove in uni, before the kids and the husband and the work busyness crept those extra few kilos on behind when you weren't looking.

I have seen bloggers who exhort their minions to throw away those jeans, to free themselves from the emotional baggage tied up in that well tailored, tight, blue denim. I read those posts and liked them at the time, but was not sufficiently convinced (or too lazy) to actually go through my cupboard, dig them out, and tip my hopes and dreams into the charity bin.

Because that's what those jeans were - an aspirational marker. A yardstick to measure my girth. Something to strive for. Even while I was convinced that those buttons would never meet the holes ever again, the distance that I could drag the jeans up my thighs was a more important measure to me than the number on the scales.

Then one day, today, I dragged those jeans out and put them on. And after months of schlepping the baby up and down a hill, eating non-man sized meals, and dedicated breastfeeding, I have done it. I can put those jeans on and pull them right up. I can do up the buttons, all three of them. Sure, I can't sit down in them yet, and my jubbly post baby muffin above the jeans precludes me from ever wearing them in public, but they FIT!

And I am so so glad I kept them.

Super sweet cubby

2009-11-08T23:12:00.000+11:00

I made Soph a super sweet cardboard cubby house.

It has doors to crawl through.

Windows for peek-a-boo.

A little skylight for peeking up at Mummy.

The only problem is, she likes it so much she won't stay still for photos.

Halloween

2009-11-07T22:40:00.000+11:00

I know Halloween is about ghouls and ghosts, skeletons and pumpkins, witches and warlocks.

But that's just so... spooky!

So when the work family centre held a halloween party, I dressed my little petal up appropriately.

She was very patient with me through all the measuring, remeasuring, trying on, rectifying, and measuring again.

And when we finally made it to the party she was very patient when I actually asked her to wear the focus of all that effort.

She only tried to pull it off four times. I'm pretty good at attaching things to heads. Eventually she took the wise path and just gave in.

My pretty little petal.

Next year I'm going to take off the lower three petals and make her into a mouse.

About the bedroom...

2009-11-07T22:37:00.000+11:00

I still haven't finished the bedroom. I want to make a wreath to go above the bed and tie the room together vertically, but the shops here don't sell the ones I want. I do have a cunning plan but it's taking a while.

I will show you when I'm done!

Bedroom Makeover

2009-09-30T18:42:00.000+10:00

Mr Accident and I have worked really hard to make the public areas of our house nice. However, this was at the expense of our bedroom. Sure, we'd bought a comfy bed and good pillows, but the room wasn't... pretty. And because I didn't like it, it was less restful than it could have been.

The decor was kind of college chic - I bought the chipboard 'bedside tables' from Bunnings Warehouse from $10 each, and they have been painted pink then brown then finally blue. Mismatched blue. One is slightly darker than the other!

The lights were a $15 Target buy. Again, they started out as brown, I painted them blue, and did a dodgy hot glue job with raffia string around the shades to hide their colour. This solution only worked from a distance and when the lamps were off. Up close they were a total mess.

In short, pretty much the only cute thing in the photo is the baby!

Luckily, Mr Accident took me shopping when he came home recently on a holiday. We bought some new bedside tables and I have added in new lamps too.

Photos to follow soon!

Gratuitous Archie Photo

2009-09-27T20:01:00.000+10:00

No words can express how I feel about this dog.

Except that sometimes he is my baby, sometimes the red headed step child.

It depends on what he's chewed.

If only he were as smart as he is gorgeous.

Airshow

2009-09-26T17:21:00.001+10:00

It was the Townsville airshow today. Even though they put it at exactly the same time as the grand final (that's AFL, for those outside the loop) there was still a massive turnout. I tried to take of photos of the planes but they are just too darn fast. I managed to get a couple of Bub in her ear phones though, she's a little more static!

We'd tried out the headphones at home and found them to be very tasty.

When we arrived she was a bit unsure at first - wasn't certain that she looked cool enough to be seen in public.

But when little friend had some too...

..well, then she was comfortable enough with her new image to be caught napping. She always sleeps through the good stuff.

Billion dollar planes shooting past at warp speed? Pffffttt, who needs 'em!

A Rant

2009-09-24T13:03:00.000+10:00

Dear 'Acquaintance',

when I went on holidays last week, for five days, I asked you to collect our mail. Not the stuff in the letterbox, as that might overly burden you, but just any packages that arrive at the front door. It was for security - I didn't want passersby to see that red flag of un-occupancy. I didn't even ask you to put out or bring in our bins, even though they were full of rubbish from our party that you attended. Nevertheless, when we arrived home, there were two packages on the front door step and they had been there three days. I forgave you - no big deal.

However, your complete disregard for my needs does not give you the right to invite me over on the premise of a cup of tea, and then launch into house care details for your month long holiday. If you had actually ASKED if I was able to help you out, I would have done it willingly, because your husband is an old friend of our family. But to just assume? The height of rudeness.

And yes, I will collect your mail. And yes, I will bring it inside and place it 'just so' on the kitchen table. And yes, I will feed your ugly fish. And yes, I will put your bins out. And yes, I will bring them back in again. And yes, I will check your fridge for perishables and discard any you may have overlooked. And yes, I will drop by at night occasionally and check your timer lights are working. (That all made me furious enough.)

But calling me from the road and telling me to pick up and pay for your mending. HELL NO!!! I don't care if they DO lose your grotty kid's pants in the mending shop. YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED!!!!

Rant done. Now if only I had the guts to say this to her face....

Dog day afternoon

2009-09-06T16:55:00.000+10:00

Our puppies like to sleep alot.

ALOT.

But what do you do when there are two dogs and only one dog-friendly chair?

It's too hot to snuggle here in the tropics.

They found their own solution.

Bunk beds, puppy style.

Once Archie was surprised and jumped down onto Baya's head. Once.

Painting

2009-08-26T20:29:00.000+10:00

Oh Hai!

I am at Mummy's work.

We are having a Messy Play Day at the Family Centre.

I am doing my best to get very Messy indeed.

I painted my very first picture ever.
My paint matches my pants, for I am a fashionista.

I particularly like using my tummy as the brush.
I hear that's the way Michelangelo did it, too.
Or not.

Messy messy baby

2009-08-15T21:05:00.000+10:00

I swear, she only had this much food on her for a couple of minutes!

Yearbooking

2009-08-13T19:59:00.000+10:00

If you're stuck for something to do...

...and you have a suitable photo...

...Yearbook yourself!

In the 1970's picture, I look alot like my Mum. I actually did graduate highschool in 2000, but I never had hair that pretty!

At the park

2009-08-12T19:56:00.001+10:00

I thought I would share some photos I took in our local park. Townsville in winter is beautiful.

Baby is beautiful too!

Doing words

2009-08-12T08:37:00.000+10:00

Little Jenny Wren wrote a Doing Words post, so I have shamelessly copied her idea (and her words) and used them for my own:

Sewing more bibs for Baby, and trying my hand at applique.

Spending a lot of time waiting to catch Baby, as she practices sitting on her own.

Wiping farex and apple off the highchair, in preparation for the avocado and banana mess of lunch.

Wrapping up a book of our wedding photos to send to my Father in law.

Keeping the dogs off the comfy chair, as they went to the beach yesterday and are still a bit smelly and sandy. They are going to the groomers in an hour.

Feeling sleepy. Baby has changed her sleeping habits and decided to party late last night.

Loving that Mr Accident will be able to be home for my birthday, even if he has to leave again straight afterwards.

And here's another:

Planning to have coffee with my friend this afternoon, in the sunshine by the water.

Shhhhhh.....

2009-08-11T20:29:00.000+10:00

It's afternoon nap time.

The baby is sleeping.

She's far away in baby dream land.

The puppy is sleeping.

He is probably dreaming about chasing moths and chewing expensive things.

But Baya never sleeps.

She has her people to protect.

Investments

2009-08-10T19:17:00.003+10:00

I tried to have a three day weekend without spending. I was thwarted by a Tupperware party.

I'm a sucker for those party plan selling ideas - I feel disgustingly rude if I leave without buying at least ONE thing. After all, the host went to the trouble of putting out all those little cheese squares and slowly warming salami bites. The least I could do is help her earn her 'free' hostess gift, right? And the catalogues are full of shiny, shiny plastic boxes, and they look so useful and after a couple of minutes my steely resolve crumbles.

So I bought these:

Oooh, so pretty. Look at those colours! Marvel at their collapsibility! It's Tupper-love...

So you might ask, being aware of my shiny plastic box weakness, and my no spending attempt, why would I inflict upon myself the test of a Tupperware party? Because I love listening to the sales pitch. Usually delivered over the course of an hour, the professional Tupperware hostess inevitably reaches a point in her sales monologue where she runs out of adjectives. Then she resorts to flowery half truths.... until she finally descends into madness. And that's the fun part.

Could I keep a straight face as she described a $50 can opener as an investment? No, I could not. I snort-laughed like a lady!

Here is the infamous can opener, in all it's expensive, investable glory:

An investment? Really? What's my rate of return, open betroot tins?

To put it in perspective, here is what I prefer to use, price approx $1.50:

And here is what I occasionally fall back on, priced at $0.50:

After pulling myself together I was actually saddened as the other women sat around nodding eagerly, picturing the expensive, shiny plastic can opener on their kitchen benches. Some even bought it.

Sometimes the message of overt consumerism behind the sale of shiny plastic boxes is a little too sobering for the weekend.

2009-08-09T19:55:00.000+10:00

Song for a Fifth Child

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due,
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo.

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew,
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo,
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow,
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

-Ruth Hulburt Hamilton (1958)

With thanks to Kate

Reading

2009-08-09T19:36:00.000+10:00

We're all about reading in the Accidental house.

Looking back over the photos, it looks like we always read in our pyjamas! I think that must just be when I have the camera around though, we do it at random times throughout most days. That's my pyjama clad leg right there:

"Where is the Green Sheep" is a family favourite. Baby has started trying to turn the pages in her board books. She needs lots of help separating them, but is getting pretty good at the actual turning job.

She also likes to bang on the pages to make noise.

And I don't know if she likes this soft book for the story line (there isn't one), the pictures or the taste. But she definitely likes it!

I hope baby keeps enjoying her reading - hopefully it's catching!

2009-08-08T21:47:00.000+10:00

Wow, I have been sorely neglecting this blog. Life just kinda happened, and as a result this blog... well... didn't. And I'm fine with that - life is good, and worth my full attention!

However, in an effort to get back in the saddle, I'll skip most of the talking and just chuck up a couple of photos. And then, tomorrow, maybe I'll post a few more, and see where it leads. Are you in? Here goes...

Baby girl mid roll, still wearing her pyjamas.

The nicest corner of the local park. I love winter in the tropics!

Winter and underachievement

2009-06-27T19:37:00.000+10:00

I met up with a friend from school today. It was hard to believe we have been out of school for almost nine years. If I look back on the months and years individually I have managed to fit plenty in, but I still feel like I'm eighteen on most days. I guess it's always a challenge to notice subtle changes in something you see every day.

We strolled and ate ice cream and drank coffee, and felt very smug about living in the tropics during winter. This is a photo of the water park near my house. It's on the waterfront, and is open and packed with children all year round.

Image by Hector Garcia

The council must have spent a packet doing up 5km of the beach front, but it is now one of the nicest in Australia. Because so many people use it, and always for recreation, it's a really happy social place. I think in our society often people are hesitant to greet and interact with people they don't know outside of the standard social I've-met-you-through-someone-I-know-and-therefore-you-are-prescreened-and-must-be-ok network. The beachfront precinct is a bit of an exception, and I really enjoy spending time there. Usually.

This time the company was excellent but, as is usual when people are catching up after a long time, the conversation inevitably turned to people we know and what they have been doing.

Now, I have been pretty successful in my life so far. I have a great job which I enjoy and perform well, I have a drop dead gorgeous, smart, funny husband, and a beautiful daughter. We are in a strong position financially. We have a nice couch and a big TV. I had a stellar education. I wouldn't change a single decision that I have made so far. Even the ones I regretted at the time taught me things I needed to know and led me to my current position.

But somehow.... when I start hearing that the girls from my school have dashed off to Harvard / Oxford / Cambridge / Yale, completed their postgrad work, and are now highly successful doctors / lawyers / writing for the New York Times / brokering peace deals, it is REALLY HARD to avoid feeling like a major underachiever.

There is only one solution - I need to go hang out at the local mall, compare myself to the food court trolls and boost my self esteem!

Tutu Cute!

2009-06-25T20:53:00.000+10:00

I made a tutu!

Doesn't that fabric just inspire ideas of great sewing triumphs? Thankfully I am fully aware of my limitations and went for the no-sew version.

Many thanks to Plumtickled for the tutorial, it was very educational. I made a few variations, using ribbon as the base so I can tie it around my little girl as she grows. The bow looks cute! Also, I plan to make another, so when she's really grown I can tie the two together and make a larger one.

It took me about an hour to make this one, the next one will be quicker because I stuffed around with the tulle length a bit. I like it really short because it is so fluffy, and it shouldn't restrict her movement as much. I want her to look cute, but still be able to safely climb trees and chase puppies.

Puppies who may also be wearing tutus....

He's such a good sport.

A Fantastic Day

2009-05-27T19:04:00.000+10:00

We had the most wonderful day today. Nothing spectacular happened, but it was a day our whole family enjoyed, and it will be a day I will remember with warm thoughts while Mr Accident and I are apart.

We started out with a HUGE sleep in. Baby snoozed until 7:45 so we did too. Then I left Mr Accident to mind her while I dashed to the shops and did the whole weekly shop in under an hour. It was a bit like a lame game show, "Speed Shopper" maybe? Or "What will Mrs Accident forget in the exhilaration of time pressured shopping?" It was fun to be unencumbered for a little while, and a quick break from baby reminds me how much I miss her when we're apart. I come back refreshed and happy to be a mum again.

Then Mr Accident and I took Bub to Baby Gym. I'm glad he came, I like it when he gets a little insight into our daily activities. I think he enjoyed it, he was willing to stay longer when it came time to leave!

After Gym we dashed into town to a 'Mums and Bubs' movie session and saw Star Trek. I loved it! It might have been because it's the first movie I've seen since Baby was born, but I think the dialogue and characterisations also played a large part. Next week we'll try to see Angels and Demons, since today went so well. It's also a bonus that the tickets are super cheap to these sessions too.

Then it was home for a tasty tasty chicken sandwich (fresh lettuce, BBQ chicken, Spanish onion, avocado, mayonnaise, tomato and salt and pepper on a fresh roll - wow!). We ducked over to a friends house for a cup of tea and a chat, then home again for a quiet late afternoon and rice paper rolls for dinner. Baby was a little gem the whole day, with giggles, great feeds and sleeps at highly appropriate times.

It's a really nice fact that such a simple day can bring so much pleasure.

2009-05-24T19:30:00.000+10:00

I have spent two days holding a grumbling baby and swaying from side to side.
She was off colour and just wanted to suck, but didn't want to actually eat. She wanted to be held, but was unhappy when whoever held her tried to sit down. She fussed and fussed. She was ridiculously tired but too uncomfortable to sleep. She had a temper the length of Vin Diesel's hair. She didn't have any other real symptoms other than her teenage attitude, but something was wrong. My poor little baby. I think it was swine flu.

When I started to take this photo she was smiling!

Baby Gym

2009-05-22T07:39:00.001+10:00

We love baby gym.

We like watching and chewing the maracas, and lying on the parachute.

We wiggle to music

and play on the giant soft tunnels and rollers

and the favourite - scooter boards! Wheeeee!

Sure, you might ask, what's a 14 week old baby need gym for?

Well, she probably doesn't, but as my grandmother says 'the only thing better than a sleeping baby is two sleeping babies'. And baby gym is a guaranteed knock out.

Ode to a trolley boy

2009-05-19T19:36:00.001+10:00

Dear Trolley Boy,

yes you, Roger. The one with the tongue piercing. Did you know I use the supermarket you work at solely because they were smart enough to employ you? Don't worry, it's nothing romantic. I just appreciate the fact that when I arrived in a strange town, 36 weeks pregnant, you were kind enough to materialise by my car right when it was time to return my trolley to the rack. Somehow you understood that the 50 metre walk across the car park in the tropical heat, pushing a dodgy trolley, would probably be too much for me. Hormonal tears were imminent. You appeared, and smiled, and took my trolley. It made my day.

For a few weeks I shopped with my husband in tow and you didn't show up. I didn't really expect it. After all, your job only requires you to return the trolleys from the car park drop rack to the store front. There is no requirement for individual service or even a wayward smile.
But nevertheless, when I finally ventured out alone for the first shop after giving birth, with a five day old baby and an aura of muddled tiredness, you were back. As soon as the last bag was lifted into the boot. I was trying to work out if I should put the baby in the car while I returned the trolley, or schlep her with me in the sun. You appeared again like a fluro-shirted trolley angel and smiled at Baby. It made my day.

Since then, for the last three months you only missed me one day. I felt deserted, a little cheated. I knew you were at work, I'd seen you as I entered the store. You are distinctive, with that fluro vest, big dorky hat and camel back (as Mr Accident says, hydrate or die). Where were you? Had I offended you? Should I have offered more conversation during our brief trolley encounters? Was a smile and heartfelt thanks inadequate? Then I spotted you across the rain soaked car park, helping a woman. Another mother, with two sopping, bedraggled and grumpy kids. You were helping load her shopping into a Jeep Wrangler with no roof. I bet it made her day.

Convergence and Carrot Cake

2009-05-18T19:34:00.000+10:00

Sometimes everything just comes together.

I wanted to make Mr Accident a cake for when he came back from a brief business trip a week ago, but the internet broke and so I couldn't get the recipe, even though I'd already bought all the ingredients...

then he came back and eventually the internet was fixed, but he'd eaten half the supplies...

then I went shopping and suddenly I had all the ingredients, the time and the inclination. So I mixed up a carrot cake, just in time for afternoon tea when my Mum arrived for a long distance visit. (How much am I still loving my KitchenAid Mixer?)

The recipe made so much mix that there was enough for a second cake, which was perfectly timed as a gift for my friend, since she is not only ridiculously, painfully, hormonally pregnant but her oldest baby boy just came down with a bad flu. I gave her the nice one on the left.

Timing is everything.

A day out for a good cause

2009-05-18T08:31:00.000+10:00

Every year in Australia the RSPCA holds the Million Paws Walk to raise money. The idea is to show up with whatever pet you have and join in a mass walk, then enjoy a mildly dodgy sausage sizzle afterwards. The tv ad campaign tries to encourage animal diversity but usually only dogs come, and this year was no different.

Our puppies were very excited about the walk, but stayed reasonably well behaved all morning. We took bub along too (couldn't really leave her home alone!) and she had a fine time too. There was plenty for her to look at and she loves a nice perambulate. We started the walk 5 minutes late because she was finishing a feed and this meant while we caught up we had to negotiate many little 'landmines' along the route.

As dog owners, the conversation always comes up between Mr Accident and I about what if - what would our dogs do when faced with a certain situation? What if our family was threatened? Would the dogs realise and step in? Do the dogs know Baby is part of our family yet? Do they understand what she means to us?

Yesterday we had one of those questions answered in a very nice way. A massive Great Dane wandered over to say hello to our German Shepherd, Baya. They had a nice chat, then the Dane headed towards the pram to meet the baby. Our little Cavalier King Charles, Archie, who was about one tenth of the Dane's weight, manned up and threw himself between the pram and the strange dog. He was obviously very very scared, but was not going to let that giant touch his new little baby. It was very a nice validation of his affection towards us and Bub.

We have already experienced Baya's protective nature. When Archie was a little pup, about 3 months old, he bumbled over to a sausage dog to say hi. The grumpy little wiener whipped around and snapped at my pup, causing him to squeak and tumble backwards. The owner offered a half hearted apology of "Oh, sorry, he doesn't like strange dogs." I was very gracious, and replied "no worries, this will teach him not to be too forward....". While this occurring, Baya had heard the pathetic little puppy squeak from a distance and was powering through the crowd, dragging Mr Accident, surging in to protect her little friend. She arrived over the sausage dog a split second later, growling, teeth bared, and scared the tail off him without a single touch. I said "....and this is his big sister, she doesn't like strange dogs either." The owner was speechless, and kept mumbling "Alsatian.....Alsatian..."

Baya loves her family too.

And really, who could snap at this little fella?

Half a family

2009-05-16T21:17:00.000+10:00

I've mentioned before that Mr Accident and I have jobs that require significant amounts of travel, often at short notice. We knew this when we met, when we married, and when we had little Princess, but now it has become a very immediate concern.

Mr Accident will be leaving in a month for a very long time. He will be away for his birthday, my birthday, Christmas, new years and our baby's first birthday. He will leave when baby is just learning to giggle, occasionally accidentally rolls over and has just discovered she has toes and thinks they are funny. He will come home when she is walking and on solid food.

C'mon Daddy, could you leave this?

I am trying to think of ways to keep Daddy in her mind while he's away. I am planning to take a decent photo and blow it up to life size and keep it where she can see it. Also, I was thinking about keeping a shirt of his so she will remember his scent. I am a little worried that after a while she will think Daddy smells like dust! As a last ditch attempt, if I can convince him, hopefully Mr Accident will acquiesce to will reading some books to her on a video. I think this will be the most effective but it will take some smooth talking on my behalf. He knows those tapes would be dangerous in the wrong hands!

She loves her Daddy, and I know how precious that is. I will be working very hard to keep that.

Grounded

2009-05-05T21:21:00.000+10:00

Sometimes the number and quantity of screens in my house can be a bit overwhelming. There is an ad for a pay TV service on at the moment that lists "chews time" as a positive. It's definitely truthful, but it's actually one of the reasons I don't want to get pay TV. If I can waste so many hours already on the internet and with TV, imagine how many more I would waste if there was actually something on I wanted to watch? Scary!

So today I grounded myself - no TV until the 5pm news. Normally I'd turn it on in the morning for the morning news shows, and then when I turned it off later I would find the house was too quiet, and I would put it back on for company. Yes, I'm fully aware that it's a little sad to count an infomercial for the ab king pro as 'company' but hey, that's the sad truth. It was strange this morning not to turn it on, and I found myself reaching for the remote a couple of times. The upside was, when I was at a loose end, instead of losing hours and growing a fatter rear end, I did things around the house. We now have a clean pantry and fresh banana muffins, I reached the bottom of the laundry pile and everything that's not wet is away, and I went for a walk. And I'm glad I did it. And I won't be watching TV tomorrow either.

But I'm not ready to give up the internet yet!

The walk this afternoon was lovely. Ever since we moved up to the tropics the afternoons have been sticky, still and hot, but today was overcast with a stiff breeze. There were a couple of times where I was battling the wind with the stroller, but it was fun. I don't think baby has really felt wind before today, and she was surprised. She just sat in silence and let it flow over her. I think she enjoyed it too.

That stimulation was probably the reason she had a complete screaming melt down halfway through dinner, and went to sleep an hour earlier than normal.

Visiting

2009-04-29T21:19:00.000+10:00

My little princess and I recently flew down to visit the greats. Our visit was an early mother's day gift from my Mum to my Gran, and it was actually really fun!

I have a beautiful 97 year old grandmother, who has been a graceful and staunch matriarch of my father's family practically for ever. She is slowing up a little now (totally understandably) but she really dug Bub. Bub has just started to garble a little, but usually uses her 'words' to tell me when she is getting tired or on edge, she doesn't vocalise much when she is happy. Nevertheless, when Grandmother had a long chat with her she did her very best to hold up her end of the conversation, with a huge smile the whole time. It was a beautiful, moving moment and I hope I remember it forever. I just wished I had videoed it!

Another great family moment was when my other Gran saw Princess for the first time. Mum stage managed the whole meeting (to a ludicrously annoying degree), but when I stepped out from behind the wall and she spotted Bub and I, the look on Gran's face was fantastic. I was a little worried it would be too much for her, but she was over the shock and wanting a hug in no time.

I am so glad I overcame my nerves about flying with a baby and made the trip!

Wake up baby!

2009-04-29T08:10:00.003+10:00

I'm just sitting here, waiting for baby to wake up. Because who wouldn't miss this little drooling face?

I'm still here

2009-04-28T20:59:00.000+10:00

Wow, seems like we're so flex here at Accidental that we let whole months go by without checking in!

My sincere apologies, I will try and visit with you all a little more often. Maybe.

I try not to make too many promises these days, because I have discovered that with a wee bairn, the best scheme of manoeuvre is to not expect anything. Obviously, some things will always happen. Poop will always happen. But when the bub does that reverse-baby-doll-thing* sixteen gazillion times at her usual bedtime, instead of getting frustrated because she isn't doing what I expect, I just try to let that expectation go. It makes me a lot calmer, and helps me appreciate the moment a little more.

(*Remember those dolls that shut their eyes when you lay them down? This is the opposite, when bub somehow pops out of the deepest sleep and stares at you the second you put her in the crib!)

The other thing I try to remember is the saying

"this too shall pass".

This applies to the good and the bad. It reminds me that I should treasure the time I have with her while she is this small and gorgeous, because I'll never have it quite like this again. This helps me avoid the lure of trashy daytime TV and play more, zone out less. It also helps when it's late, and it seems like she will never go to sleep. Just the fact she has to eventually sleep sometime (please?) keeps me rocking, and patting, and singing..... and not going as crazy as I might.

Speaking of singing, I have discovered the truth in the saying that

"mothers have sung lullabies to their children

since the dawn of time,

to soothe them, and calm them,

but mostly to drown them out".

It really amazed me how well a lullaby works, and it also amazed me I could remember the ones my mother sang to me. They just seemed to come naturally. I know my grandmother sang them to my mother, and I like the idea that my little girl will sing them to her babies too. It makes me feel connected.

Please leave a comment if you come to visit, I'd love to meet you!

Thankful Thursday

2009-03-05T10:36:00.000+11:00

After reading about a girl who photographed one thing she was grateful for every day for a year, I have decided to introduce Thankful Thursday. Every Thursday (or Wednesday or Friday, we're flexible here at the Accidental House) I'll let you all know something that makes me happy, reminding myself in the process.

So, drum roll please, for the inaugural Thankful Thursday....

Today I am so thankful for my sleeping baby. Last night she slept for 7 hours straight (I didn't though, I became worried and got up to check on her very few hours. She was fine!) In the end my dodgy 4am judgement kicked in and I just woke her up for a feed. Next time I won't be such a rookie, and hopefully I'll be confident enough to just leave her be.

She also catnapped long enough this morning for me to have a decent length shower. This was particularly nice as I spent most of Tuesday with shampoo in my hair, because she started hard core fussing halfway through the shower and I couldn't bear it and got straight out to console her. She didn't have another quiet time for hours, but my hair is super clean this week.

Which leads me onto her baby rocker. With one foot I can keep her happily rocking, distracting her for up to five full minutes of hands free time. I can eat, type, sew, or read for up to 5 minutes. It's fantastic! I never knew how much I could accomplish in such a short time.

And that leads me onto anthology books. I visited the library and borrowed two chunky books full of short stories that fit into my 5 minutes of free time. Bliss!

One Month of Living

2009-03-04T14:49:00.000+11:00

She's been in the world on her own for a month today.

It's been a month of baths with Daddy,

reading with Mummy,

and naps dreaming of being superman

She has gained 1365 grams (that's 3 pounds) and has grown 4 cm taller. She has learnt to hold her head up and has strong, kicking little legs. She curls up like a turtle when you unwrap her for a feed, and pulls a surprised, lemon-sucky face when she poops. She smiles when it's time for a feed, and sometimes afterwards too, when she's content and snuggling.

She loves baths, but has already outgrown the bathroom sink. She has learnt to focus her eyes, and likes to stare at light and patterns with start contrasts. This includes the pattern of the ridiculously ugly orange and brown tiles in the parents room at the local shopping centre.

She is blessed with excellent sleeping patterns, waking only once or twice during the night and then just for a feed. She self-settles. The fog of pregnancy has lifted considerably in the last week, and I am starting to feel like myself again.

Every day I have a shower before midday I feel a sense of achievement similar to that of brokering world peace. I don't think Mr Accident quite gets that, but he tries. I am obsessed, but still exhausted, and every time I return to the hospital for baby clinic the thought of giving her back briefly crosses my mind. But only very briefly.

I am still convinced she is perfect.

Welcome Princess!

2009-03-04T14:00:00.001+11:00

My beautiful little princess has finally arrived! One afternoon, a month ago today, I was making a CD at home, a compilation of daddy-daughter songs to give to Mr Accidental as a becoming-a-dad present. The first attempt at burning the CD didn't work, and as I went to get a fresh disk, I had a sudden rushing, wet sensation and I thought I had peed myself - gross! I threw my clothes in the wash and got changed, but it kept on coming, and coming.... I rang Mr Accident with the news that my waters had finally broken , and told him that he might as well keep on heading to the gym, nothing would probably happen for hours. Thankfully he ignored me and came straight home.

The trip to the hospital was a little fraught. The hospital is on the other side of the river, and there had been two cyclones and a fair bit of flooding in our region over the previous few weeks. The bridge across the river had been underwater that very morning, and I had been strictly instructed to cross my legs and wait - I failed! Lucky the water had subsided enough for us to be able to cross the river, but there was still a lot of water on the road and Mr Accident had to drive very carefully. And on the verge. Sorry council gardeners, I'm sure the ruts in the grass will come out soon!

At the hospital I was put straight onto the fetal heart rate and contraction monitors, and even though I couldn't feel them, I was very excited to see some contractions were actually occurring! As the afternoon and evening progressed, the contractions sure got strong enough for me to feel them myself. At bed time, Mr Accident had curled up onto the teeny tiny couch in the delivery room and was sleeping. the contractions were about 5 minutes apart and strong enough to completely rule out sleep for me, but I did catch some 4 minute naps in between. Each time the pain was too intense and I let out a moan, Mr Accident would pop up awake from the couch and say "are you ok?" It took a LOT of diplomacy for me to kindly tell him, after what seemed about the 500th time, that I was actually Not OK, I was Hurting and to STOP ASKING ME THAT. He changed his half asleep, mumbled mantra to "You're doing a good job". Every 5 minutes. Thanks darling.

At around 7 the next morning not much had changed, and the midwife and OB decided to induce. The next 4 hours were a blur - once the drugs kicked in the pain hit like a freight train, waves and waves of rippingly strong contractions. The midwife gave me some mild gas, and then when the time came to offer an epidural or pethidine I kind of missed my chance, and just asked for more gas. It was great when she turned it up, it worked really well, but I became so wasted that she turned it off completely. I spent the next hour begging for more drugs, I Really Wanted That Epidural NOW Please. No joy, however.

Long story short, the relief I felt when my little one was finally born is indescribable. She was tiny, and purple and white, and the seconds between her being born and that first little squeak were the longest of my life.

At this point I have to give massive credit to Mr Accident. He really was fantastic. He was totally encouraging the whole time, helped hold the gas nozzle for me when I was too tired, and miraculously thought to get a cool towel for my forehead when that was literally all I wanted and I was too exhausted and confused to ask for one. He cut the cord, saw the head crown, and didn't (visibly) flinch at the placenta. And most importantly, he fell head over heels for our bub as soon as she was born. I could not have asked for anything more. But I still haven't burnt him that CD yet!

Hairstyles

2009-01-29T13:55:00.000+11:00

Okay, this post comes with a warning: it has pictures of my head, with NO makeup, just after I woke up, and with a swollen pregnanty chin. (I must be freaking mad to post this.) So scroll down at your own risk.

However, every risk should have a reward - and, drumroll....

I need help picking a new hairstyle. Something to hide my huge nose, please. I have had issues with my nose since I was a teenager, always trying to look at people front-on, so they didn't notice the profile. You can probably appreciate this could get a little tricky when I was in a crowd. I'm sure I sometimes looked like a carnival clown, swivelling my head like mad.

Apparently bangs are supposed to help, and I think they might soften my face up a little and hide my expaaaansive forehead. I went onto one of those hair trial websites and went mad, and here are the results.

This is me wearing Keira Knightly's hair. I hope she doesn't want it back. If I went with this one it would look a bit less messy, I'm a neat hair freak. This is about the natural colour of my hair, and it also has a bit of natural curl, so I reckon this would work.

This is Jennifer Aniston's hair. If I had this one I would have to straighten it every day, which totally wouldn't work with a brand new baby. The real question is, what do you think of the bangs? Workable?

Cameron Diaz was kind enough to lend her hair. Again, the bangs? Are they ok?

This last one from Faith Hill. I'll wear it with my pearls and fluffy high heels when I clean the bathroom:

So what do you think? Curls? Bangs? Banging curls? Advise me, please....

When will she arrive?

2009-01-29T10:39:00.000+11:00

I've started to feel a bit like the bottle that holds the ship. It was relatively simple getting all the necessary bits in, and they arranged themselves in a logical order to create something amazing. But now how do I get the ship back out? And how do I do it without breaking the ship or the bottle? And the ship just keeps getting bigger!

Every morning I wake up disappointed that the baby and I are still inhabiting the same body. I'm starting to experience the worries that I'm sure come to every new mother. Will she be late? Will she be healthy? Am I mentally and physically ready to give birth? More importantly, will I totally embarrass myself during the delivery? Shriek too scarily? Break down and cry? Try to leave? Poop? Will Mr Accident still respect me afterwards?

When I start to worry too much I think about the Queen - if she gave birth and then went on to rule a country while wearing pearls, I reckon I just might be okay.

Pavlova

2009-01-28T18:12:00.001+11:00

We're heading out to dinner at a friends tonight, so I made up a pavlova. It's basically egg whites beaten with caster sugar, with a little vinegar and cornflour folded though. It's dried in a low oven and it comes out like a big meringue. (Isn't meringue the weirdest word? Spelt nothing like it should be.) You top it with sweetened whipped cream and fresh fruit. I'm still debating whether this one needs some fresh mango as well - I might just eat the mango all myself, no sharing.

The biggest challenge with pavlova is peeling it off the baking sheet. It always looks perfect on the tray straight out of the oven, but once I've had at it with a spatula and a knife trying to get it into a serving dish it's just a mess. I've found it's easiest to just give up, peel off the bigger pieces of outer shell and then flop the middle across as a mess. Put the shell on, hide the cracks with heaps of cream and voila! No one need ever know. Except now I've told everyone with internet access. I'm so sneaky.

Here is what the BBC says a good pavlova should look like:

Look, no cracks! It's a miracle.

Tinkles, wee and urine

2009-01-28T16:05:00.000+11:00

I went to visit the obstetrician today. This always involves wee - it's unavoidable. At my first doctor they asked me to pee in a cup when I arrived. Despite the initial embarrassment of handing a warm cup to a nice nurse, I had no issues with this method. However, on my first visit to the new doctor they gave me my own specimen jar, and they wanted me to pee at home and then bring it in. This was the single deciding factor in my choice of new handbag - it had to be large enough to carry and conceal my wee jar without embarrassment. It's not cool to be running errands and dig through your purse, having pulling out the wee jar in order to reach your wallet. People look at you strangely. It's like carrying a concealed weapon. I guess I could whip it out if I got into trouble; if someone threatened to throw wee at me I would be far more disturbed than if they threatened to shoot me. So anyway, the crux is that every morning before I have a doctor's appointment I need to pee in a little yellow lidded jar.

This used to be an easy proposition, but I now have a sizable belly to contend with. The jar is small, the belly is big, and I haven't been able to see my lady-bits for months. This results in a literal hit and miss affair that consumes my morning. It usually takes a couple of goes to get it right, so this needs a fair bit of hydration, which brings its own problems. Sneezing suddenly becomes a stressful event.

My appointment was supposed to be at 1215 but I didn't get in until about half past one. I tried to be understanding, but it was over my lunch and I was so incredibly hungry, and I needed to pee again really badly, but I was worried about going to the bathroom in case they called me and I wasn't there. When I was finally seen I was so relieved that it was the shortest appointment in history. Baby is well, she still has a head and a spine and a heart beat, and I still have blood pressure. More than that I don't know - we didn't have enough time! I do know I am sitting on the 85kg mark, which is a solid gain of 20kg over the pregnancy, with only 11 days to go until the due date. I'm starting to get impatient!

We need help

2009-01-25T12:32:00.000+11:00

My fully grown, manly husband likes to spoon his dog. While she's spooning my dog. Perhaps it's because she is not pregnantly hormonal and doesn't yell "get off me, how can you bear to touch me, I'm the size of a fully grown hefalump who just ate a whole plate of nachos!" every time he tries to show her affection. Hmmmm, I might need to see a psychologist about my pregnant body image issues. Perhaps I can schedule the appointment for the same time as he sees one about SPOONING HIS DOG?

It does make for some cute photos though.

And she's definitely smiling in that last one.

The Nursery Reality

2009-01-23T16:41:00.000+11:00

So after hyping you all up for the nursery photos, I got myself so excited I went and took them right away regardless. So, without further ado, here is my totally-not-how-it-looked-in-the-catalogue nursery.

The small white drawers are just chipboard, but I painted them white and they are doing quite a good job pretending to be real wood. I bought the cloth boxes under the change table from Howard's Storage World (I love that place - I think Howard and I would get on just fine). They hold all the changing paraphernalia for bub. Please note though, none of this stuff has actually been baby road tested. My cunning system may fall to pieces in the face of screaming, pooping reality.

I love love love this lamp. It makes me happy. Yes, I am that shallow. It gives out just enough light for night feedings, but probably not enough to read by.

There are plenty of soft toys in the crib at the moment. They will all be moved to the toy box when Bub moves in, but for now they are cute and I love looking at them, thinking of the people who sent them for baby and how many people she will have to love her when she finally arrives.

For some reason everyone seems to have sent pink elephants. These ones are gorgeous:

Since we live in the tropical north, the quilt from the set will not see much use until we migrate south again. Instead, I pinned it to some green fabric I had lying around to make it a tab top, and attached it to a dowel. It fills the wall space well, and I doubt the realtor will notice my illegal, small and very high up nail-holes when we move out.

The mobile in front of the quilt was something I banged together using a bird pattern from the net. I made a couple of leaves and then attached them all to sticks from the yard. It's not very practical, and the birds are always overbalancing, but it was made with love. And isn't that what really counts?

Fantasy vs Reality - the nursery

2009-01-23T11:32:00.001+11:00

Well folks, the nursery is finally ready! Are you excited? By far the best thing about moving into the new house was finally getting to spend hours and hours with an allen key putting together very small furniture. Mr Accident and I got the basics set up very quickly, but then I kind of stalled and left a great big pile of hand me down clothing strewn around the room for weeks because I couldn't face sorting it. It looked a little like this, but without any helpfully working women in sight.

Then yesterday I fell into a Mum-to-be frenzy and tidied the whole room.

Before we moved I went all out and bought jungle themed nursery items, including the equally useless bed and curtain valances, and two random little cushions. Here is what it looked like in the catalogue, isn't it darling?

They even offer suggested paint options for the walls:

Needless to say, my nursery looks nothing like this. At all.

Since we're renting a house where we can't paint anything, and we are not allowed to put holes / nails anything onto our bare and unhappy walls, it kind of limited the design potential. I know Nester would rush in here with a hot glue gun and a big hammer and tell me to get over myself, everything is fixable (especially teeny wall holes) but I'm a little nervous. The realtor is scary!

Anyhow, it's raining with fierce thunder and the light is all wrong for pictures, so I will just leave you in suspenders until tomorrow, when I will post highly disappointing pictures of my totally non-designer nursery. I promise!

I Love Lamp

2009-01-21T20:40:00.000+11:00

We recently moved into a new house that had plenty of display space. This prompted me to come up with some space fillers that would quickly and cheaply fill the gaps and make the house look a little more finished. I was able to use lots of things that I already owned.

This is one half of the shelves that flank the dining table nook.

I picked up the rock / coral thingy at the dog beach one afternoon, the picture really doesn't do it justice! The letters you can see there were originally plain browny ones I picked up at the local craft store. I covered the front with scrapbooking paper and modge podge, and painted the back. Now they spell out Mr Accident and my first names and make the house a little more personal. I tried to find the letters to spell out the baby's name, but the store was all out of the crucial letters. Like 'e'. Who would have thought?

This is the other end of the nook, apologies for the blurriness!

Originally I had just the photo frame and the little statue, but it needed more height. I decided to stay with the whole white / natural coloured theme, and picked up the vase and grass from a $2 store. Needless to say neither bit was $2 (why the false advertising?) but they were still really, really cheap.

This is my all time favourite lamp on my all time favourite end table.

I have always loved tiffany style lamps, so Mum bought this as a wedding present for Mr Accident and I. If you're sneaky, you can zoom in and see a picture of me in the frame.

Oohhhhh alright, here it is:

Have a wonderful evening!

A Frog Eating Failure

2009-01-18T21:23:00.000+11:00

Wow, sometimes it surprises me how well I know myself. My prophesy came true, and today was not a good frog-eating day. I crawled back into bed after Mr Accident left for work and I was still in my pyjamas at 1130. The upside is I'm now totally rested, and I can kind of justify the sleeping in / laziness thing as wise before having kids (because I know I probably won't get a sleep in for years once the baby arrives) but I still felt off kilter and behind schedule for the rest of the day. I think it's worth waking up properly the first time to avoid that!

Here is picture of a chinese man who is far better at frog eating than I am:

Today I also had to go into the motor vehicle registry to get a new licence, as we have moved and I've changed names to become Mrs Accident. The staff were totally lovely, but my licence photo is TERRIBLE. I look like a chubby, pregnant tomato. I think I will have to 'lose' the licence and get a new picture once the bub has come and my head is back to weighing less than a small planet. I hope that happens quickly!

In other news, Mr Accident has decided to take his lunch to work. Our work provides a cheap canteen and in most locations this is a great social midday break and the food is plentiful and healthy. However, at the new work location the food is terrible and really fatty, more like pub food. It's not really what you would want to eat at lunch, especially since Mr Accident is a bit of a gym nut. He was a little stumped as to what to take to eat tomorrow (today he took some left over lasagna from dinner last night) so I suggested rice paper rolls. He made them himself, for the first time ever. Here's the final outcome, made with vermicelli, roast chicken, avocado, mayonnaise and lettuce wrapped in a rice paper wrap:

Good job Mr Accident!

What do you take for lunch when you're out? Any quick and easy favourites?

The working mother

2009-01-17T15:15:00.000+11:00

Mr Accident and I have been struggling over a subject that I am sure many families have faced at this juncture in life. Mr Accident and I met through work. There is a very defined path for advancement in our career, and we are just about even on the ladder. We both love our jobs and we are both doing very well. However we have agreed that having someone at home full time for the bub's first year of life is vital. That decision was straight forward since I'm clearly the breastfeeding specialist.

The real challenge comes afterwards - we both need to be able to travel at short notice to stay competitive at work. Mr Accident and I may easily be called upon to travel at the same time, so who takes the hit and tells work they can't make it? Who leaves early when the kids need to go to the dentist? Who takes the sick day when junior has a cold? Do we take turns, sabotaging both our careers in the process? Or do we put one career ahead of the other, ensuring one of us advances and can support the family as well as possible, but perhaps breeding resentment in the other partner?

Since we are planning on having several children, each probably causing a year long gap in my career, it seems that my career will be the one to take the hit. I know this is the obvious outcome and will be the best for the family as a whole, helping ensure a strong start in life for the kids and the possibility of the highest overall income for our family. I am just having a really hard time accepting it!

So much of my identity and self worth is tied up in performing well at work that I am concerned about how I will feel when this is reduced. The wonderful Mr Accident has pointed out that healthy, well adjusted children that love their mummy are an excellent performance indicator, but will it be enough? Our careers are in a service industry that I feel is vitally important, and I have only been fully functional within that industry for four years - have I served enough before taking a step back for my own family? So many questions, and the answers are by no means clear.

So, has any one else faced the decision on career versus home life? What did you take into consideration? Did you make the right choice? Any regrets?

Frogs, and the eating of them

2009-01-15T18:24:00.001+11:00

Simple Mom had a great post yesterday on eating your frog first thing in the morning. I tried her theory today, consciously doing my least favourite tasks first up. It worked really well! The sheets and towels are washed, the house is dusted and the furniture polished. However, there is one flaw to her plan that I can foresee- knowing that as soon as I get up I will have to do something that I actively dislike may cause me to stay in bed all day....

Anyhow, on the topic of frogs, our house has a fair variety.

Living in the north of Australia, we have a cane toad problem. They are an introduced species that were originally imported to eat the cane beetle. Unfortunately, they thrived well beyond the cane growers requirements and are now steadily spreading across the north of our beautiful country.

A couple of steps have been taken to try and reduce their impact, as if they are eaten by our local animals they can be lethal. In the Northern Territory, pubs have offered a dead-toads-for-beer trade offer, and community groups run toad hunting days. It reminds me of whacking day on the Simpsons. The newspaper has reported dogs becoming addicted to licking the toads, as their poisonous backs apparently have a hallucinatory effect. I laugh to think of the spaced out druggie dogs addicted to hard frogs, it does worry me having them around the pups because if they eat them they will become seriously ill.

Mr Accident and I keep our yard toad free by scooping them up with a shovel and tossing them onto the road, where almost every driver makes a concerted effort to run them over. I'm head spotlighter, he's head scooper. Here is a picture of one of the little beauties:

I doubt any princesses will be lining up to kiss him! They are one of the few things that really gross me out.

We also have much nicer frogs in the yard, these little green tree frogs:

Cane toads have been known to eat these cute little fellas, and so I always feel like a rescuer when we clear out the toads from the yard.

We also have a shy little white frog that lives in the bathroom and eats ants. We know he's there because we occasionally see him if we surprise him at his job late at night, and he leaves little frog-pebbles for us in the morning. The pebbles are a little annoying (I'd prefer him to be house trained) but they are much nicer that actual ants.

Remember, eat your frogs first thing in the morning!

It's almost sunny!

2009-01-15T11:15:00.000+11:00

The weather isn't fabulous, but there is enough blue sky to warrant a trip to Bunnings. Hooray!

A Day In My Life

2009-01-14T10:38:00.000+11:00

It's Day in the Life time from Little Jenny Wren. My apologies for the lack of pictures, I'll try and remember my camera next time!

At the moment Mr Accident and I are both on holidays, so our days are super relaxed. We've just moved, and I am really looking forward to exploring the new area. Unfortunately we're kind of on tenterhooks waiting for the baby to arrive, and the weather has been really really crazy. An "ex-tropical cyclone" is hanging around in our neighbourhood and messing with summer; it has rained continuously for the last 3 days and it doesn't look like stopping. The real bummer is that Mr Accident has promised to take me to Bunnings on the very first sunny day. Stop raining please!!!

Anyway, that's all a little off topic. Here's my day:

I woke up before Mr Accident. This is a pretty unusual occurrence, as since I've hit the third trimester I can sleep like a champion. I switched on the coffee machine, which was mighty kind of me since I'm on the caffeine-dry, but since it is a one button on machine maybe not worth a real medal. Breaky was cereal, yogurt and milk, as usual.

In this house we have an awesome double shower. I didn't notice it when I first inspected the place, so it was a really nice surprise when we arrived. It also means I only have to clean my half, and Mr Accident can do his half at his leisure. I leave the necessary stuff around in case he gets the shower cleaning bug, but his real strength is floors. I don't do floors.

After pottering around at home we headed into town, visited the library and stopped into a little cafe for lunch. It's been fun trying out new restaurants and cafes around town, we've found some really nice ones. I also spotted a boutique that is so cute I want to live there. After lunch it was still bucketing down and so Mr Accident kindly dropped me off at council to register the dogs. The council lady was so helpful and lovely, people in this town are really welcoming!

My work moves me round a fair bit, sometimes without telling the new place I'm coming into all the details. That meant today when I dropped in to my new work to tell the guys on the ground that I had arrived, I also has to tell them I wouldn't actually be at work for another year. After the initial confusion they finally got the message, and they took it really well. I'm lucky my work is so flexible with maternity leave and I get my job back when I return, even after a really long absence.

I tried to choose properly edifying books at the library, but I always get one fluff book. Of course I always read that one first, so this afternoon I started reading the Agatha Christie. Once Mr Accident came back from his daily gym trip we headed out in a brief break in the weather to walk the puppies. About a minute later it started raining again, but by then the dogs were so happy to be out of the yard it would have been plain mean to turn back. The lake bridge had turned into a proper causeway with all the rain, but the water has lowered a little and most of the path was good to go. After the walk we headed home and changed into dry clothes. We had chicken kebabs and salad for dinner, then settled in for some quality Las Vegas viewing on TV.

Introductions

2009-01-13T22:37:00.001+11:00

Ok, so the first post went well. Now it's time for some introductions.

This is a photo of Mr Accident and Archie the Cavalier puppy.

Archibald has just turned one, and he thinks he runs the house. He is probably right. Yesterday he chewed the toothpaste tube and freshened his breath, and he just chewed a photo album and Mr Accident threw a beanbag at him. I guess he is doing his bit, training us for a toddler, and teaching us to baby proof the house. He likes cuddles and laps and is afraid of fluff, frogs and christmas lights. He is NOT tough, but since he barks bravely at anything that moves he makes a decent alarm system.

This is Baya. She actually runs the house. She is the kind of first dog that every girl should have, and she has totally spoilt me for every future dog ever. She is remarkably understanding of my attempts to train her, and very kindly pretends to carefully follow most of my instructions, if she feels like it.

She is growing older now, and slowing up a little. Mr Accident sometimes worries that she prefers me, but he doesn't see her waiting by the door for him to come back every time he leaves the house! She is a one man dog, and that man is Mr Accident.

I suppose that at some stage I will have to post a picture of me, but I'll need to find a good one first.

Welcome to the interwebs

2009-01-13T21:43:00.000+11:00

Hi everyone!

This is my first blog post ever. I have started blogging for a couple of reasons. Mr Accident and I have just married and are expecting our first born very shortly. The blog will be an easy way to keep our families up to date when I am in a hazy new-mum fug, and also I don't want to bore the reli's with endless stories about baby poo until they would rather pluck out their toenails. Here I can write about all that baby / family stuff that fascinates me, and they can pretend to read it at their leisure.
Also, I read plenty of blogs and the whole one-way-sharing thing has started to be a little strange. This way blog type people can check me out and hopefully find out that I'm not some creepy 1000 year old dude that really likes to read homemaking blogs and look at cute pictures of other peoples kids. Eww!
The last reason is that Mr Accident has been bugging me to start a blog, mostly because he loves being famous, and probably wants something to keep me occupied while I make the transition from career-girl to full time Mum over the next year. Enjoy my ramblings!