Wednesday, July 18, 2012

I’ll Have a Skinny Cappuccino, Hold the Muffin-Top


I tried on my “test pants” last week.  You know, that item of clothing you stash away at the back of your wardrobe waiting for that day when you’ll slip effortlessly back in like an old friend.

Please note:  This is not me.  It's a stunt muffin top.
My Test Pants are a slim little Allannah Hill number,  chocolate brown with cheeky little pink stitching in just the right places.  BB (Before Babies) I’d love nothing more than rocking them with a killer pair of heels and a strappy singlet.

Between B1 and B2, I had a brief moment of glory when the planets aligned for me to fasten zipper and buttons.  I celebrated my achievement, then quickly removed them when my legs started to tingle from lack of blood supply.

What I was thinking the other day when I put them on I don’t know.  Exercise is a random occurrence these days and I still eat like a pregnant lady.  Food is my problem and I know it.  I’m a comfort eater and reward myself with food.  “Treating Myself” or “Me Time” these days generally involves something sweet and even on our trips to the park I stop via my local cafĂ© for a Skinny Cap and a little somethin’ somethin’.

It’s going to be a hard habit to kick, but I’m determined to get off the sugar before I need to sacrifice my favourite jeans and summer shorts. 

It’s seems the old girl ain’t what she used to be, but I’m hanging onto my Allannah’s for next winter.

Do you have "test clothes"?  What are they?

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

The Story of the Owl and the Lark


This week I had the pleasure of interviewing a psychology professor for a magazine article I’m writing.  He specialises in the human body clock, which in a nutshell puts some theory behind things like why we reach for a Tim Tam and cuppa at 3pm.  Among many interesting tid-bits, he shared with me the world of the Lark and the Owl.

It seems there’s two kinds of people in this world.  Larks and Owls.  Owls as you may have guessed, love to stay up late into the night and enjoy long leisurely sleep in’s the next day.  Larks are a bit like those annoying birds you hear chirping away just as the sun is starting to peak over the horizon.  They greet the day in full song and then nestle back into bed straight after Masterchef.

I’m going to challenge that there’s a third kind of person in this world, and that is whatever kind of ungodly creature my children can be represented as.  You see, before the Larks even begin to stir my children are up and at ‘em and probably on their 2nd round of raisin toast.  I’m talking 4am people and that’s even in the middle of Winter.

B.C (Before Children) and B.H (Before Husband), I was an owl.  I have truly spent whole days in the wonderful self-indulgent bliss of sleeping, reading, sleeping, eating, sleeping.  My only conclusion is I slept too much in my early 20’s and am now being repaid with a lifetime of sleep debt.

I’ve gradually grown accustomed to a lack of sleep and once the sun actually rises, I’m feeling quite good.   After a shower and with clean teeth, I’m ready to face the day.  It doesn’t make it any easier though EVERY MORNING when my children bound into the day long before dawn.

I conclude with two questions for you dear reader.  Are you an Owl or a Lark?  And does anyone know how the F@#@ I can get my kids to sleep longer!  

Wednesday, July 04, 2012

The Booby Trap


What kind of bee’s make milk?
Boo-bee’s!

Funny?  Yeah a little isn’t it.  The sort of thing I thought my 3 year old son would lap up.  You see he is a bit of an early starter when it comes to his toilet humour.  I simply have to throw Bum or Poo into a conversation and by his reaction you would think that I’m Jerry Seinfeld.  So I told him my Bee joke and was met with a very serious face and his reply, “No Mum, bee’s make honey.”

You see, boobies are very serious business around here.

I was fortunate to have been able to breastfeed my 3 year old until he was 13 months old when I fell pregnant with #2.  Now my beautiful B#2 is nearing 17 months and is still being breastfed.  It’s a habit I’ve been meaning to break since her first birthday and every week I create a new reason for myself to keep going for a few more days; she’s sick, I’m sick, it’s too cold.  As you can see I’m starting to run out of reasons.

The funny thing is the decision to breastfeed or to not breastfeed and then when to stop should really be no one’s business at all but every so often a story will appear in the news or online and suddenly everyone has an opinion.  Pink recently posted a beautiful photo on Twitter of her breastfeeding her 1 year old.  This special moment that she chose to share publicly was ripped into shreds by the seemingly well-meaning public. 

For me, I know these precious days are coming to an end with my little one and I know that it’s highly likely I’ll never have another baby to connect with in this way.  It makes me sad.  So sad. 

With all that said, the fact that my daughter attempts to seduce me with moves akin to her father in order to have her way with me is starting to weird me out a little, so I’m going to stop breastfeeding next week.  Promise…