Sometimes…

Sometimes, I have no idea what I’m doing.
No idea, whatsoever.

Actually, more often than sometimes, a lot of times.

Now, seeing as I’ve had no experience at being me before, and everyday is a new day, why does the realisation that I’m without a clue come as such a disheartening shock?

Because I’m a mum and I’m supposed to be the expert. And experts know stuff.

Stuff like:

– Why my baby is crying: “I’m worried I could have a low breast milk supply.”
“Don’t worry, it’s supply and demand.”
“She’s been demanding every two hours for three months.”
“Don’t worry, it’s supply and demand….”

– How to dress the children properly: “Isn’t she cold in that?” (Same day, different person) “Look at those rosy cheeks, she looks a bit too warm.”

– What to feed them: “Oh, you don’t offer your baby cumquat? The book says to offer them a wide range of foods.”
“I’m never going to find a cumquat, or ever serve them again so……”
“Yeah but the book says…”

– How to discipline them:
“You must be consistent, but remember you’ve just had a baby so she’ll be acting out more, so go a bit easier on her.
“How much easier and how can I tell when I need to go back to being consistent?”
” …….. ”

Honestly, I beat myself up and get the mummy guilts because my children are so innocent and deserve the best. It’s not their fault I’m a noob and make mistakes. It’s not their fault I have to learn as I go.

But it’s not my fault either. So do you know what I do? I laugh.
Sometimes, I see the cruel irony and laugh – right in it’s face.

I actually laugh a lot. It gets me through.
I’ll even look for things to laugh at, even just to distract myself from the overwhelming ‘drowning’ sensation that frequently takes over.
People who are happy, laugh a lot. And people who laugh a lot are happy.

Well, in my opinion anyway.

Sometimes, I actively try to see the humour in things (when my sleep deprived brain allows) because, well, what else can you do when your eyes are red from lack of sleep, the baby has decided she needs to be held all day, the toddler acts like she’s starving but won’t eat anything you offer, and amidst cleaning up the toddler’s rejected food and dealing with the baby’s refusal to be put down you step in misplaced cat pee – repeating at dinner time – and fall into bed completely exhausted and feeling rotten?

After a bit of prayer and a deep breath, I’ll look through the humour board on Pinterest for example, and chuckle at some parenting memes. And yes, cat memes. Animals in general really. And funny babies. And anything that makes me laugh at it all.

Anything that tickles my funny bone.

Sometimes I’m out of my depth. And it’s ok.

And sometimes,

just sometimes,

being completely lost – even with the maps of life right in front of you – is absolutely hilarious.

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I think I have covered it all…. Good luck everyone! And thank you, as always xxx Jac

It took over five months…

IIMG_0277t has just dawned on me: I actually have no idea what I am doing. As in, I have very little control in my house at the moment.

This morning, for example, went a little something like this…

7:15am – Wake up (after dropping back off after a very restless night) to Issy poking me in the face and Scarlett grizzling in her cot. Jai (my eight year old) comes out and protests school. He is sharply hushed. I’ve no time for nonsense.

7:40am – I have wrestled Issy into her high chair, Jai is finally dressed, he is making her brekky (SCORE!) so I retreat to the lounge to feed an unhappy Scarlett. Oh, I got her out of her cot at some stage by the way.

7:50am – Scarlett is fed and happily rolling around on the mat, so I begin cleaning Issy’s Weetbix art while she runs off and starts trashing something. I stack the dishwasher, switch it on, fill the washing machine, think I  switch it on but discover later I didn’t, and pick up something Issy has pulled from the shelf.

8:10am – Make my toast, make Scarlett’s rice cereal, sit on the lounge to nibble at my toast in between attempting to get at least an eighth of a spoonful into Scarlett’s mouth instead of her nose while she rubs it in her eye. During which, Issy has dragged her blanket, pillow and dolls in from her bedroom. The lounge looks like a bomb zone so I ask Jai to quickly pick up the blocks and books from Issy’s earlier trash sesh, to which he very (and surprisingly) happily obliges.

8:25am – Issy trashes the blocks and books.

8:26am – Issy is satisfied with her mayhem and returns to her blankets and pillow.

8:30am – I finish eating my toast. I mop Scarlett up. Then grab clothes and nappies for the girls, change and dress them, throw clothes on my tired body and growl at the dog for barking at the elderly man next door.

8:45am – All aboard the Terry Train (territory) it’s school drop off time. HOORAY. ,

9am – Time for ‘shopping’ which is more like ‘dodging bad drivers and avoiding pedestrian crossings so as to not get killed by said bad drivers’ after spending 20 minutes building the pram that is supposed to be a convenience. (Guess what, it’s not.)

I could go on and on and on…. I am out of my depth here. It’s chaotic. It’s full on. I get nothing, and I mean NOTHING done! The kitchen is still a mess. The clothes are still in the machine. The floors are putrid (thanks ridiculous humidity) and my head is pounding because I haven’t been able to get to my chiro. I crochet while Issy is asleep. She sleeps for two hours at most during the day, and seeing as I can’t get Scarlett to settle until 7:30-8pm at night, I am left with an hour in the evenings.

Don’t get me wrong, I get enough time to get my orders done, no doubt about that. But my flooooooors are filthy and the toys are all ooooover the house and waaaaaa waa waaaaa!!!

I’m even writing this post instead of using my time to complete orders because I can’t crochet due to the obscene humidity we are having!

Clearly, I have no say in what happens and when. It’s a good thing I have a sense of humor, otherwise I’d be a complete and utter wreck. I can handle not being in control, I’m just not a fan of chaos – it’s too chaotic.

It took over five months for me to realise that no matter what I do, this place is always going to be crazy mess of toys, textas and tiny bits of wool off cuts. At least until these girls aren’t as dependant on poor little ol’ me!

Anyone else out there having the time of their lives trying to keep their head above water too?

Jac xx

My happy place..

If you haven’t noticed, I like to make pretty new things and then model them on my girls. A lot. It’s my favorite thing to do.

Scarlett- 5 monthsWhy? Well, look at them! My girls are beautiful. My crochet is beautiful. And my photos are beautiful. (I can tell what you might be thinking, ‘Gee is SHE full of herself’) But no. I am actually not full of myself. My closest friends will tell you just how much it takes for me to feel good about what I do.

I’m honest, brutally honest about myself. And since so many kind people have complimented me on my girls, my crochet, and my photos, I think it is safe for me to admit openly, that I also think they are beautiful. And beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Beautiful things make everyone happy. Albeit, each person’s idea of beauty will differ from the next. Me – I think my girls are beautiful, my crochet is beautiful, and my photos are beautiful. And it makes me happy. IMG_9888

This is my happy place.

What is your happy place?

xx Jac

Take me there now….

132371_405129449541705_1948869275_oOoooh I get a fuzzy feeling just at the thought of it… Winter.

It’s dark and cold outside. Possibly even windy and wild. Inside, the kids are tucked up in their warm, cozy beds, dreaming peacefully. In the lounge, Friday night footy is on, my feet are up, slippers are on and I’m blissfully hooking my way through an adorable piece.

It’s pretty much my favorite feeling. Ok, not my actual favorite… but when the weather has been muggy and hot and yukky for months, I can’t help but dream of Winter. (Of course, a month or two into it, I’ll be complaining about the girls’ cabin fever hehe)

The only thing that would really make my dream perfect, is the ambient light and cozy warmth from a wood heater. Oh how I’d love a wood heater for winter! Maybe one day…

Warm, cozy slippers. Slow cooker bubbling away, the aroma of a scrumptious casserole flooding the house. Rain pitter-pattering on the windows…. Oooooh I get a fuzzy feeling just thinking about it!

Are you looking forward to the cooler weather?

(Of course, in about six months time, I’ll be less excited by cold weather and yearning for sunshine… I’m a bit funny like that.)