Worf is NOT the yellow Wiggle!!!

How do you discpiline a child when, in the middle of a scolding he points to his father's favourite old threadbare Star Trek t-shirt and says "the Wiggles!!". Adam was not impressed, some things are sacred.









Monkey's obviously not the first one to notice the similarities, these comparisons were on the interweb ...

Not all vomit and snot ...

We've been off line with a house full of illness this past month, but we've had moments of silliness, so here are a few pics of our boys to show it hasn't been all vomit and snot ...

Monkey Boy ...

Bugalugs ...

Happy happy 101

I've been tagged by my oldest friend, Monique (a glass half full) to create a list of 10 things that make me happy. If I'd written this list 10 years ago I'm sure it would've been very different:

1. Drinking a cup of tea while it's still hot. A rare experience and so special when the moment unexpectedly arrives.
2. Sleeping for longer than 3 or 4 hours in a row. Ahh the bliss of waking up and realising I've had a 5 hour stretch.
3. The rare times when both my boys are asleep at the same time, particularly if I'm on the couch with a DVD, the remote control and a HOT cup of tea. Ahh, give me more of that good stuff.
4. Driving on my own, listening to adult music or radio.
5. A good long (uninterrupted) chat with a girlfriend.
6. Hanging out in the backyard when the lawns are mowed and everything looks nice and tidy. It's so inviting, particularly on a calm, sunny day.
7. That glass of wine in the evening after baby Bugalugs has fed and gone to bed. I've finally reached the stage when he's unlikely to demand a feed for a good few hours.
8. Sitting in the dark at the movies, when the film's just about to start, with a choc-top in hand. Ahh, the anticipation. That's my happy place.
9. Writing, getting lost in it, not noticing the time passing. Wish I could do it more.
10. Listening to my kids laughing their heads off when their dad is getting them ready for a bath, blowing on their tummies.

I think I'm supposed to tag others to write their lists but Monique's the only one I know who blogs. Maybe some of you might like to send a favourite thing or two as a comment ...?

The long-awaited 'TRUCK CAKE'!!!

4th August - singing, cake, Ruby and pulling funny faces! Four of Monkey's favourite things in one go (actually, five - Granma and Gramps gave him a bin truck), so who could ask for more on their birthday?

But then there was more: 7th August - most of Monkey's favourite people all in one place - the Munns and Roses all gathered together to share his 2nd birthday. All Monkey wanted for his birthday was 'a truck cake' which made for quite a bit of pressure for his mum and dad in the cake-making department. We overcame a big hurdle when our first attempt broke in half but Ad made a late night dash to the supermarket for more ingredients and we got there in the end.

When Monkey saw the cake he decided it wasn't just any old truck cake, it was a 'bin truck cake!' (and we quickly agreed that's what we'd intended to make all along). He was in birthday cake heaven!

After all the excitement, Monkey crashed out for a long sleep while everyone else continued to enjoy his party.

Monkey's second year

Tomorrow is our Monkey Boy's 2nd birthday. Looking back at how much he's learned since he turned one I realise that it's been quite a year. A year ago Monkey was crawling, only knew a few words, would sleep twice in the day and we were still spoon-feeding him.

This year my baby has grown into a little boy. Not only has he learned to walk (and run, dance and get dizzy), he's also learned to talk (incessantly), count, and sing (and making up songs, albeit not very tricky ones - 'truck song, la la la').

This was a year of firsts including his first sand castle, first ride in Poppy's boat, first hair cut, first stay in hospital. Monkey became a big brother and is reluctantly learning to share his parents' attention.

When asked who his best buddies are he lists 'Braden, Ruby and Acey-Boy'. His favourite grown ups are Granma, Aunty Net and Mardi. And a few of his current favourite things are: his blue sippy cup with dolphins on it, all types of trucks! (especially tow trucks, cement trucks, crane trucks, diggers and his absolute favourite: BIN trucks!), watching the bin truck collect the rubbish on Monday mornings, doing jig-saw puzzles, providing a running commentary of everything he does (all day), going to Symbio, Crazy Maze and the Nursery Cafe, watching Play School, singing, eating cheese, eating brocolli (yay), not sleeping during the day and building space men out of Duplo blocks. A couple of new favourites have emerged this week: making collages (we've cut up every magazine in the house) and pulling funny faces.

So happy 2nd birthday to my little fella, I love you more than I ever could have dreamed was possible.

Happy birthday Gramps (more face cake)

Allirah, Reese, Ruby & Rory make Gramps' birthday cake

In the shadow of supermums

A fellow mother of a new bub and a toddler said to me today that she almost has a panic attack whenever she has to leave the house with both her kids. I knew exactly what she was talking about and I honestly felt better for hearing her say it. Hearing others admit that they're challenged by parenting makes me feel that I'm not alone. To the parents who think that no-one wants to hear you whinge, that it's not going to achieve anything, let me tell you that your complaining gives me permission to vent too. It lightens the load and it builds a bridge between us.

Admitting that parenting is hard and that you don't have all the answers may make you feel vulnerable, but I think it's actually a strong thing to do. It shows you're not afraid of condemnation from those dreaded supermums. And you know what, I honestly don't think 'supermums' actually exist. The sooner we all admit that, the sooner we'll all get out of the shadow we imagine that they cast. And if we eliminate supermums, then all the rest of the mums with all their vulnerabilities, move up to supermum status.

I relish honest complaining and I'm a big believer in the value of venting. So if my blog makes anyone think I'm a little post-natal, please don't. And if my complaining helps any other mums out there feel that they're not alone, then all the better.

And to my kids: it is my hope that, when you're old enough to read back on your mother's blog, it will be the norm for mothers to share the woes of parenting, as well as the joys. As I look at my little Bugalugs lying on the floor pulling his own hair and screaming because he hasn't worked out how to let go yet; and Monkey Boy trying to kiss his own chin better after he wacked it on the cupboard, my heart is filled with warmth and love. And there's no way I'd swap that for an easier trip to the supermarket.