Avoid turkey flapping next Christmas...celebrate Festivus instead!

At Christmas time in our house, there are generally two turkeys. The first and obvious one, is the feathered variety whose destiny is to end up on our dinner table come Christmas Day. The other is much larger, squawks a lot, and fusses and flaps about as though being chased by a farmer with a rather large axe. That, would be me! What with cards to send, presents to buy, battling for parking spots and the Christmas crowds at shopping centres, family and other social get togethers, financial strain and the general organisation of Christmas Day, I tend to get a bit frazzled (hey they don't call me panic pants for nothing!). So to save my sanity by not adding another task to my to-do list, I decided to leave my Christmas post until after the event. Kind of a post Christmas wrap up if you will.

Now you'd think by the way I've been talking that I actually do all the cooking on Christmas Day, but noooooo sireeeee, I'll stress for a lot less! Coming from a divorced family, I could alternate Christmas Day amongst various family members (mums, step mums, sisters, step sisters, in-laws, in-law's in-laws, out-laws...the list is endless!) for years to come without having to host the day myself.

Scoffing the one year old way

I'm feeling very proud today as our beautiful little boy turns one. We threw him a little party on the weekend and he had cake for the first time. I know, I know, there's no going back now he's had a taste of the sweet stuff, and I'll probably spend the next 15 years or so trying to get him to eat an apple rather than a chocolate bar or a biscuit, but to see him scoff his cake down (and when I say 'scoff' I mean 'SCOFF'!) like it was the most delicious thing to ever pass his lips, got me to thinking that babies do have the right idea when it comes to expressing enjoyment of food.

Lets Talk About Poop...Baby Poop!

                                                                                                                              
Ok first up apologies for the subject matter, but I figured us mums are pretty immune, having spent the first two to three years of our little one's lives up to our elbows in the stuff. You see, I just love the new commercial for Baby Love nappies...


It really hits the nail on the head or, should I say, gets to the heart of the messy matter. Afterall, which mum hasn't been caught out at the most inopportune time when their little cherub has had a poo explosion AKA 'the number 3's', or 'PE' for the sake this post (and those eating their dinner!). The PE is known for its timing which seems to work in an inverse relationship to whatever the occasion or state of mummy's mind. On the freeway with nowhere to pull over? Your little one is bound to have a PE. Stuck in a queue at the supermarket checkout? Bring on the PE.  Slight hangover at 6am in the morning? Hello PE. Just about to race out the door to a party, baby in his or her best threads? PE!
But really my point is not to talk about the PE itself (heaven knows I do enough of that already as you will see) but the fact that us mums DO talk about it. A lot. It's ever been the topic of conversation and analysis in my mum's group...where did the PE occur (usually followed by some titters and nods of sympathy and understanding). What had the baby been eating just prior to the PE? And were there any casualties? Eg: car seat, mummy's skirt, sofa cushion?

If someone had told me 5 years ago that in 5 years time I'd be analysing my babies PE on an almost daily basis, I'd have told them they were crazy. But now the conversation in our household goes something like this:

Fiance, phoning during a break in his busy 12 hour day: 'Hi, how's it going?'

Nic: 'Yeah good, Jackson just did a big poo, the second one today! How was your day?'

Fiance: 'Uh huh! Oh me? Not much really, processed 20 contracts, ran some risk analysis spreadsheets, you know that kinda thing.'

Hmmm, is it any wonder that relationships change when babies come along? You know though, I could talk about something else, but the fact is I am excited about everything baby does, including his PEs... as only a mother could! Awww, cue the Baby Love ad. jingle (courtesy of one Mr Lionel Ritchie)... 'Say you, say me...'

Meditation for Mummies

My 11 month old son has recently mastered the art of crawling. Great for him as it opens up a whole new world of exploration. Not so great for mummy who now spends most of her time running around the house after him! If it's not placed up high, nailed down, vacuumed up (oh yes we've had a few little crumbs and other bits of unidentified object go from the floor into the mouth!) or locked up he's into it.