.dear diary.

Dear diary,

Today I cleaned the house from bottom to top. But while I was cleaning the top, the kids trashed the bottom; and while I was cleaning the bottom, they trashed the top. FML. I've heard the saying 'cleaning with kids in the house is like brushing your teeth while eating Oreos' but I think for my kids, it should be 'cleaning your house with kids is like brushing your teeth, while drinking black coffee, while eating Oreos, on steroids'

I am so blessed to be a Mum, to be able to carry babies; bla bla bla. My kids fucking suck! I took them to the beach 4 days in a row last week, we had so much fun, I did no inch of housework. And now I'm suffering. Why do kids need entertaining? And why did I have 3?

Dear diary,

When I text my husband today he could tell the house was chaos. I knew I sounded too desperate. Dammit!! Why can't I play it cool like 'hey babe, dinner is at 7:30 kiss kiss' but instead I write 'fucking come home, I just got shat on, there's bananas mushed into our sheets and I haven't showered in daysssss'

Why can't I play it cool?

Dear diary,

Kids are well behaved today. Nothing to bitch about. 

Oh wait, I had the runs.... It was shit. Ha! Get it? Get it!!! Of course you do. You get me (and never talk back).

Dear diary,

I had to tell my son to get his penis out of his breakfast today *sigh* you'd think I'd never have to say that, right? I say it more than 'hello'. I also had to tell my daughter to get her butt out the air while we had visitors.

Dear diary,

I've had a terrible day. Husband works long hours, kids cry for him, I feel disgusting and have a million things to do before bed.... Ignoring everything for a glass of red and few eps of Sex and the City. Oh Carrie, you are my girl crush.

Dear diary,

I need new clothes. I need money. I need a job. Why is child care like a million dollars a day? I think my husband needs a cheaper hobby. 

Dear diary,

Today has been a massive struggle between bikini body and pizza; pizza always wins. WHY CAN'T PIZZA BE HEALTHY??? Why is pepperoni and cheese so fucking delicious? Anyway, kids are nude, as usual; how do parents keep their kids dressed? Did I miss that part at antenatal classes? I just can't figure it out...

Dear diary,

I still don't feel like an adult. How the hell do I have 3 small humans that I'm supposed to care for? I just want 2 minute noodles for dinner and wear pj's all day! Who let me adult? Maybe I'll feel more adult in my 30's...? Hahaha just kidding, adulting sounds stupid... I'm never gonna grow up.

Dear diary,

I'm stuck wrapping stupid presents for my stupid children who will be so ungrateful on Christmas morning anyway. At least I have my champagne and Mariah to get me through... Husband is out at staff party, not that he would help. I keep cutting the stupid paper too small, help me. Can I just wrap a bow around everything? Or just keep them in their plastic bags? How do people do this? I hate it. Too hard basket.

Dear diary,

I gave up on Christmas present wrapping and I have resorted to Mariah Carey Christmas carols karaoke. I apologise to anyone on my snap chat. I'm sure my kids will understand when they themselves become parents why I was such a shit one. God, love them... 

When they sleep.

Merry Christmas ya filthy animal...

And a happy new year.

You, me + 3

.the perfect housewife.

Look at my perfect child. I am so perfect.

Look at me and how perfect I am. I vacuumed AND *mopped today, so I thought I'd post a pic on Insta to show what a perfect fucking housewife I am.

*by mopped, I obviously mean that I used baby wipes to clean a few weeks worth of spills.

I broke my foot 3 weeks ago and this is the first week I've been able to do housework without having a throbbing kankle. In other words; our house has been beyond pig sty status, for 3 weeks. 

In that 3 weeks and not being able to keep on top of things, I have had a lot of time to think.....

I wish I could be the perfect housewife, but I'm not. I wish I could have my house spotless every second of every day, but I can't. I wish I could go ONE DAY WITHOUT YELLING, but I can't. I wish, I wish, I wish.

But honestly, who cares? I spend so much time in my own head, trying to be 'perfect' that I forgot that everyone's idea of 'perfect' is different. And the only person who I want to please in life, is my husband (am I right, ladies?? *wink wink*). And he thinks I'm perfect. Messy house and all. Broken ankle and all. Big booty and all. He does love the big booty....

I have a 'perfect' marriage and we need to change not one thing. We love ripping on each other on Facebook and in some sick and twisted way, that's our way of showing love. It's not everyone's cup of tea, but it's ours (with a little whiskey). 

Everyone has their differences. Some women have spotless homes, then there's me. Some days (today) my kids leave the house without t-shirts and shoes, and I literally open up a box full of zero fucks; I do not care. My car is messy; I do not care. I clean it out once a week but in the meantime, zero fucks given. 

                Thanks Bill. You get it...

I used to have a fabulously clean house, until I had a third child, who never slept. The fucks went out the window the same time his sleep patterns did... I still love a clean environment and nothing makes my nostrils happier than the smell of bleach and disinfectant; but I hate tidying up toys/clothes/shoes. It kills my soul, so I don't do it. 

In a nutshell, I love a clean house, don't give a fuck about a tidy house. 

How can we be the 'perfect housewife' when there are only 24 hours in a day....?

Firstly, we need our beauty sleep. No one wants a haggard wife. 7-8 hours gone. 

Secondly, do you actually know how long it takes to get 3 (4 including the husband) kids ready in the morning? A long fucking time, all right?

Thirdly, I don't even remember the last time I showered. I can't shower while my youngest is awake because the last time I did that, he smothered himself in my favourite (and expensive) red lipstick. I refuse to make the same mistake. 

                        Like, what? 

How can I be so perfect when I have no time for myself?

Please teach me oh wise ones, how do I become so perfect?

Actually, I AM the perfect housewife for my husband. Because no one else matters

You, me + 3

How I escaped religion.

​How I escaped religion and became a better human.

 

I want to start this post by stating that I was never involved in a cult. Religion can come across very cult-like but by no means was it. ‘Escaping religion’ makes it sounds like I was part of something where we drank blood, pierced our nipples and sacrificed our livestock so that we may please the higher power. This is not true, but it does sound kind of fun.

 

I grew up in a religious household, and much to my parents demise, am not religious in the slightest. *Cue gasps and snickering*

 

So.... Where does science come into religion???

From a very young age, I was so curious about other religions. I didn’t want to follow them, I was just curious as to why we should follow one God, when we could have an option as to which one we could choose. I suppose it's kind of similar to Tinder. My parents literally looked at me like I had cut my toes off. Like, WHAT? You want to know things; about other Gods, about other religions? There are no other Gods… NOW GO PRAY!

 

From 8am to 1pm; then again from 5:30pm to 8:30pmwe went to church; every. Damn. Sunday.
Do you know what I do every Sunday now? Sweet FA. I enjoy it and I'm still a good person, right? Of course I'm a good person, I don't need to go to church to tell me that, to 'help' me be kind. It costs $0 to be kind; it feels great and it makes people smile. Shouldn't THAT be the message we need to get out? To be kind...?

When I was a kid, I am ashamed to say that I was brainwashed into thinking that homosexuality was wrong. I want to go back in time and literally punch myself in the face for being so judgemental. At the time, I thought my parents might hate me for thinking so differently to them. I was scared to have a different opinion and that I might be sent ‘straight to hell’ if I even entertained a different thought. By the way, how cruel is that? To tell a child they will forever burn in a place where they will never see their family, for all eternity. Burn. All eternity. Forever.

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

It fucks with your brain, it almost does sound cult like. I was scared to let anyone know how much I enjoyed swearing, in fear they would not accept me (or that I would in fact BURN FOREVER IN THE PITS OF HELL). Do you hear how stupid that sounds? I was afraid of being judged and you know why? Because Christians are judgemental. Ever heard of Westboro Baptist? The most judgemental humans on this planet. And if we always live in fear of not being accepted, then how will people find out how incredibly awesome you are? Where would Lady Gaga be? Freddie Mercury would never have been in the public eye and Bohemian Rhapsody would NEVER be here. What would be my karaoke go to then, huh? 

Even now, trying to write this post; I find it difficult because I'm so pissed off with how I used to think when I was heavily involved in church. You don't have to be religious to be kind; you don't have to be religious to make people smile; you don't have to be religious to create music. Do what is inside of you and do what makes you happy. Don't try and please 'God' but suffer yourself in the meantime. Nobody judges you for being true to who you are. And if they do, they are the asshole, not you. 

So, how did I escape? Easy.... I decided to be myself, not care what anyone else thought, became the kind of person I always knew I was and lived an easier existence... It only took me 29 years, but I finally accepted myself.


You're a good person. You don't need 'God' to tell you that.

 

.stop bullying mums.

Having a chat with my chum today about a very controversial topic and it really made me think about all the judgement and unwanted opinions us Mums cop on a daily basis. One of my chums good friends is Kayla Boyd; wife of Broncos player, Darius Boyd; a brand new Mum and victim of cyber bullying, BY OTHER MUMS.... Those ugly internet trolls had their fangs out because she left her precious new bundle of joy, with her own Mother; not a fucking drug addict, not a stranger; her OWN MOTHER! 

Not that it's really anyone else's business. 

WTF ??

I talk about the sisterhood a lot because I strongly believe in it. Aren't we supposed to help each other and lift each other up? Not beat each other when we are our most vulnerable... Being a Mum can be hard, especially if you have a high profile husband. If she missed the Grand Final to stay home with her baby, she probably would have been bullied for 'not supporting her husband'. It's pretty fucking ridic. 

I bet no one was brave enough to crawl out from under their troll bridges to say it to her face. 

Internet trolls, take notice.....

People and their opinions....

I mean, I love a good heated debate but not when people are just downright mean and treat people they've never met, like shit. And it's pretty shithouse that it's usually other Mums who are the biggest trolls. 

When are people going to get it through their heads - it is never okay to bully. Bullying is shithouse and I have never felt more bullied in my life than since becoming a mum. Most of it is cyber bullying, the lowest form; they don't even have the guts to say it to my face.

I've often heard people say 'if you're willing to put your life out there, on social media; you should be willing to cop some backlash'

Honestly, piss off. 

You should NEVER have to expect criticism just because you like to update your social media profiles. That's utter bullshit. Just because I update my profile picture, doesn't give anyone an invitation to rip me to shreds. This has to stop. I worry about the day I let my children get on Facebook. 

The greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return - Moulin Rouge 

Peace and love to all

You, me + 3

.the hardest part.

I thought my first pregnancy was the hardest part.

Pretty sure after this photo, I had a 3 hour nap. It was so hard....

I want to go back in time and literally kick myself in the face AND vagina for even thinking it was hard. In my case, pregnancy was the easy part. Even pushing 3 human beings out of my delicate flower (and ripping it open) wasn't the hardest part.

The hardest part? 

Being kicked in the face or sworn at by those humans who ripped through my fucking vagina. THAT'S THE HARDEST PART. Bitch, I gave you life and this is how you repay me?

The hardest part? 

When you give yourself a timeout in fear that you will unleash that inner beast that you know you have inside.

The hardest part?

Saying goodbye to your old self. When you birth those babes, you magically receive a new identity and for some Mums (aka me, over here) it takes a while for you to let go of your old identity and accept your new one. 

Goodbye size 6 jeans. Goodbye life of the party.

The hardest part? 

Losing your own income to buy whatever the fuck you want. As much as it is quite normal, it's still debilitating having to ask my husband for money to buy myself a new top. And before anyone suggests that my husband gives me an allowance, no.... Just no. Don't even suggest it.

The hardest part?

Losing all freedom. From now on, it's not only yourself you have to look after; you now have a little alien looking bundle of crying and vomiting joy that needs your constant care. You are pretty much done with having any spontaneity, FOREVER. Even if you want to 'just pop out for milk', you can't if the baby's asleep; Golden rule: NEVER WAKE A SLEEPING BABY. You can no longer just go on a date with your husband, you have to plan that shit 78 months ahead. And then the kids will probably get hand, foot and mouth disease and you have to cancel anyway. Oh and my favourite thing is trying to get somewhere on time: we fail, every time. 

The hardest part?

Looking in the mirror and realising that you've become one of 'those mums'. You know the ones. The mums who have given up on themselves, who have no time for themselves, who look like they bathe in vegemite and cream cheese. The mums who wear sweat pants on a daily basis and probably haven't showered in days. The mums who want to be beautiful for their husband but would rather catch up on the 8000 hours of sleep they have lost nursing a screaming newborn. 

The hardest part?

Mummy guilt. Too much time on Facebook, not a good enough dinner, not enough time spent playing with them, missing an award assembly, missing an open day, not enough money for a ski holiday. We feel guilty no matter what anyone says. We want to be the absolute best person we can be for our children and if we stuff up one little bit, we can't help but feel guilty. Mums, it's ok if you're not perfect; you're perfect in your children's eyes, and that is all that matters!

The hardest part? 

Putting yourself last. This is hard. The more children I had, the further back I would put my own wants and needs. I get absolutely everything else ready for everyone else in the mornings before even doing my morning shit. 

Even when I do get to take a dump, I'm usually braiding my daughters hair....

The hardest part? 

Being hungover. 

Oh dear lord baby Jesus. Have you ever been so hungover with 3 kids that you have to tell them you have a virus? Yeah, me either. I like totes don't even drink. Ever. Ok maybe I'm drunk right now.

The hardest part?

Wanting so desperately to go back to work just so you can have a break from your annoying children.... I'm in the process of applying for jobs. Let me tell you, I am so excited, I could wet my pants - I've had 3 kids though, so I just cough and I wet my pants.

The hardest part?

Remember when you had hobbies? Wasn't that fun....? Hobbies were so fun, weren't they? Not anymore. Your new hobbies include: changing nappies, being spewed or pooed on, shoving your cracked, bleeding nipple in your newborns mouth and NEVER SLEEPING AGAIN. Enjoy your new hobbies, because you'll never get to do your old ones again. 

The hardest part? 

Watching them grow up right before your eyes and knowing that one day they won't 'need' you.... Wahhhhhhh

You may read this and think 'oh stop complaining'.  Go fuck yourself. I can complain if I want..... Change is hard. End of story.

Peace and love to all, 

You, me + 3

On a scale of 1 to britney in 2007, how close are you to losing it?.

On a scale of 1 to Britney in 2007, how close are you to losing your shit?

At the end of 2014, I was level Britney in 2007.... For 19 months, I had 3 kids on my own, no preschool (long story); a husband who was new to real estate sales and worked 6 days; and let me tell you, it was fucked up. I was fucked up...

It all came to a halt at the end of last year when I had a panic attack in the shower. I thought I was dying from a heart attack. I started to blackout, I had a tight chest and was hyperventilating profusely.

Normally I wouldn't share this stuff, but I wanted to let other people (especially mums) know that it's ok to break down sometimes. Not britney style though, that shit's cray.

Being a Mum is the most overwhelming, most emotional job on the planet. Yes, we get to play at the park/go to the beach/sit at home on Facebook; but there is so much more to being a stay at home Mum. 

There are tantrums, tears, food thrown, no showers - and that's just me... The kids are far worse, I swear....

There are two things in this world that I can't handle:

1. When people tug/pull on my clothing.

2. Being pushed/shoved/kicked - especially when I'm sitting down.

 

I can't help it but I lose my shit when either of these things happen.

And guess what?

MY KIDS DO BOTH OF THESE THINGS 78 TIMES A DAY..... 7 DAYS A WEEK.

No wonder I lost my shit.

Every Mum is different though. We never know what will make us crack under pressure, until it happens. My problem was that I tried to be the strongest possible version of myself - and I failed. When people offered help, I denied it; when in actual fact, I needed it the most. The biggest lesson I've learned out of my little meltdown is that it's ok to accept help. 

Friends are like family and if like me, you don't family near you to help - friends are family. Accept their help and have a break.

Don't be a dickhead and try and do everything on your own. Count on the sisterhood! And if you see another Mum struggling, BE that sisterhood! Help each other, love each other and if you see a Mum on the verge of a breakdown, help her. 

I will never forget the time a random Mum helped me carry my screaming children to the car. I was on the verge of tears, everyone was staring and I had no control over the situation. I thanked her so much that we finally laughed together at how kids can be assholes.... I will never forget her. #sisterhood 

Help one another, love one another, be kind to one another. 

You never know what is going on in someone else's life. They could be on the edge of a breakdown.... 

Peace and love to all 

You, me + 3

.the bachelor - what have I been missing.

Oh my dear Lord. What have I been missing?

Ok, ok, so I saw the bachelor advert while I was chatting with my husband and seriously, the hotness of this guy stopped me mid-sentence.... I can't even... Like literally, so hot. 

But I have a few questions...?

Why is a man, who reeks of handsomeness, still single? Is he bad in bed? Maybe he has a small wang? Maybe he's a shit guy in real life? 

Why are all these gorgeous girls still single? They look amaze balls, do they not? Those gowns, that hair, oh em gee. I wish I looked like that.

We all know why Sandra is single... But the rest? 

What is the white rose? What does it mean? Does she get to bang him?

The drama that fills my loungeroom right now, is amazing (probably because I'm 3 glasses of red deep), and it will continue to fill my loungeroom EVERY TIME THIS SHOW IS ON! I'm hooked.

By the way, who the fuck is Osher? Pretty sure I met that guy 10 years ago at Australian Idol auditions and his name was Andrew G.

Stay tuned.... I will review this show every time it is on. And I promise that it will be hilarious. 

You, me + 3

.i have one of 'those' kids.

You know 'that' kid....  The rough one. The naughty one. The one you move your child away from at the park? Yeah, he's mine.

He cares not, nor does he judge.... Unlike some parents. 

Because apparently, when my son goes mental, I am a bad parent. Obviously we are one, therefore I am also mental. 

He

Is

Just

One

Of

Those

Kids

I thought I had parenting ALL figured out when I had my 2 girls. I was smug and now, karma bit my butt, and it bit hard. I had ZERO idea what it was like to have boys. I had a 'cafe baby' with my first and a perfect sleeper for my second. I was so confident in having 3, that what was about to hit me, hit me hard. 

Let's start with the birth. 

My theory is: the harder the birth, the harder the child (in no way is this true but it's how my kids are)

If this theory were true, I should have known from the minute his head ripped through my delicate flower, sans epidural,  cord around his neck whilst not breathing. (More shit happened but it's too boring - let's just say it was the worst out of the 3)

I always loved newborn cries. My girls had soft, little infant cries that you couldn't even hear while you were a room away.

My son? Trying to wipe that black tar crap off his balls and Midwifes came to my room because they could hear him from 4 rooms away. 

I tried to do the exact same routine from birth as I did with my excellent sleeper but failed miserably. His scream was so loud that my neighbour used to bang on the wall (bitter old hag). I was so used to good sleepers that when my son would wake up 4-5 times a night, I literally wanted to go back in time and punch myself in the face for being so smug the first 2 times. What a dickhead.

I heard boys were tough work but never in a million years did I imagine I would be copping bottles to the face, spoons to the head, skateboard to the head, and just recently (and his new favourite) punching me in the face. 

I know I'm doing some things right, I have asked MANY people; I just have to keep telling myself 'he is only 2, this WILL pass' and that is what stops me from dropping him in a field.

#heisjustoneofthosekids

You see, it's hard to always be kind to someone who constantly hurts you. I have to love him, he's mine but I completely understand those mums who pull their kids away from him. It hurts my feelings, but I get it. He doesn't understand, but I do. And my kids will grow up standing up for themselves, I like them to sort their own shit out. 

Next time you pull your child away from one of 'those kids', just remember to give that Mum a smile, not a snarl. It's not her fault, she is trying!

They probably just have one of 'those' kids.

You, me + 3

.I'm not JUST a mum.

You know that question?

'What do you do for a living?'

My answer, without fail, every time:

Ohhhh, I'm just a Mum.

Like it's an unimportant job!??

Nah mate, fuck that.... I carried humans inside my body; like, actually grew them. Yeah sure, my husband helped but he had the fun job of jizz, but WE do all the hard work! 

A mother's job is the MOST important job in the world. A newborn is helpless without the nurture of its Mum. They need us to survive. So then why do I add 'just' in front of the most important job title I will ever accomplish? 

I do: over time, fix boo-boos (real and imaginary), wipe away tears, cheer for them; I am their biggest fan. I do the school run, say yes to play dates at 4pm when I should be prepping dinner; I cook, clean, wash clothes..... I do everything. I don't get paid and sometimes yes, it's depressing but I feel more needed than I ever will. 

Our babies need us. And they need us to be well! Never be afraid to ask for help. I was, I never used to ask for help. I wanted to prove that I was supermum. And for what? Then I had my son (satan) and I burnt out. I cried a lot; and I started sinking. It's only recently that I have felt better, mentally. 

He's still an asshole though

 This happens on the regular.

But at least he's not up all night, right?

He's a different kind of hard at age 2.

I AM A MOTHER! I am proud. I am NOT 'just a mum'; I AM A MUM. 

Being a Mum is the hardest, most emotionally draining job on the planet. I can't complain to HR because my son threw a skateboard at me; I have to cop it sweet (and kick his ass). I can't have a normal conversation to my daughter because she treats me like a piece of shit, I have to cop it sweet and drink a shit tonne of wine to survive my life. 

I'm just thankful I have an amazing husband who just brought me 2 BOTTLES OF PINOT! Woop woop!

This is a small snippet of my life. It will not last forever and when people say they feel for me, I say 'but it doesn't last forever'.... It's all gonna be ok.

You, me + 3

.20 things I miss since having kids.

I thought I missed a lot of things when I had JUST ONE BABY..... Just one baby is so easy to palm off, try asking someone to watch my three assholes just so I can have a hair cut.... Too hard basket.

So, without further a due, here are: 20 things I miss since having kids.

(Everything.... I miss everything)

1. Obviously the first thing is the hairdressers. 

I have to co-ordinate a time with my husband so he can watch the kids, he works Saturdays so I'm screwed. AND THEN I have to ask for like $400. I gave up and started cutting and colouring my own hair.

But I do miss that glorious head massage  with a basin wash. 

2. Walking.

Sounds stupid right? Have you ever walked ANYWHERE with a 5, 3 and 2 year old? I'd rather chew glass.

3. Waking up like a normal human being. It's like a switch goes off when you have babies, and you will NEVER wake up like a normal human again. I have been woken up by: crying, being licked on the face, being jumped on, a bottle to the face (thanks for the black eye), an iPad to the face (thanks for another black eye), fighting etc.... And that's just from my husband.... (Lol JKS) 

4. Wearing white.

I still try to occasionally wear it. I am quickly reminded why I should not. Usually because I spill red wine on myself.

5. Silence.

My life is constant noise. I really miss being alone with my thoughts. 

6. My perky D cups.

My husband misses those bad boys more than I do. Now they're just sad saggy cups that clap when I run. At least it sounds like someone is cheering.

7. Lazy Hangovers.

Oh em motherfuckin gee. Have you ever been so hungover with 3 kids that you have to pretend you have a virus? No? Yeah, me either..... I just wanna watch dvd's ALL DAY, but they 'need' food and other boring things.

8. Playing guitar.

If you knew me prior to children, you knew that I played guitar ALL THE TIME. You know where my guitar lives now? Collecting dust in my garage; and it makes me sad. Ps I've tried to play it around the kids but they just annoy the shit out of me when they hold the strings.

9. Grocery shopping.

I never stray from my online grocery shop but I ALWAYS forget stuff! If I go down every isle, I don't forget - but I also spend $200 more.

10. Leaving anywhere.

You know how easy it is to leave a place by yourself? You just walk out the fucking door! Leaving with my kids...? Takes at least an hour. I have to bribe my kids to leave ANYWHERE. Every. Single. Feckin. Time. And they don't forget. Oh no, they're at that age where they'll remind you, constantly.... Until you cave; or drive off a cliff.

11. Doing a poo without a child asking to see it.

Childless people - THIS SHIT ACTUALLY HAPPENS (pun intended). You can't drop a nugget without one, if not all kids, asking to see it or asking if you know how to wipe properly. 

12. Anytime Sex 

Not gonna lie.... Our bedroom door locks..... We've had a sneaky sesh while cartoons are on, on more than one occasion. 

13. Date night with my husband.

We have no family around so date nights only happen when we have family visiting. And that's not often enough.

Our last date night ^^^ in February.

14. Cleaning my house and it STAYING CLEAN.

I just want my house to stay clean for longer than 17 minutes. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

15. Being lazy.

I still attempt to be lazy, but then get pissed off because no one else does any house work.

16. Listening to ANYTHING BUT FROZEN!!!!

Let it gooooooooo

She is wearing frozen dress and boots.

17. Adult interaction.

I just want to have a normal conversation with an adult. And not have to negotiate with satan (aka toddlers).

18. Having a wide open schedule.

What do you wanna do today? Oh I dunno, whatever the fuck we want....

(My husband came up with this one)

19. Going out for dinner.

Not the same as date night.... Try going out to dinner WITH your kids. Last time we tried, my second child was 5 days old, I was as fat as a house and there was a table of about 19 cool 20 something year olds and I was so anxious about breast feeding that I literally left without eating anything. 

20. Drum roll please.......

I miss an UNINTERRUPTED FULL NIGHTS SLEEP.

If you can't tell, it's been a while. I also miss space in my own bed. 

When it all began ^^ first baby - big mistake

What are some things you miss?

You, me + 3

.confessions of a stay at home mum - part 2.

Before I had children of my own, I would hear stories about Mother's, just up and leaving their families. I would think 'what kind of horrible bitch would even contemplate leaving their children?' 

Me. 

I would.

Confessions of a stay at home Mum - part 2

• Sometimes, I envy working Mums.

And you know what? They probably envy me. Grass isn't always greener girls, we just have to remember to WATER OUR OWN GRASS! Kids are hard work, need constant attention and are hungry ALL THE TIME.... But I long for the day I get to finish my hot coffee before my son throws it on the floor.

• Sometimes, I think about packing a bag and just leaving (not forever, just for a week..... Or 7)

We have no family living close by, none even in our state! I wish I could drop the kids off so I can have a break, but I can't. And usually I'm ok with that..... Usually. 

Just every now and then, I'm jealous of people who have help.

• Sometimes, I drive around aimlessly for an hour, just so my son goes to sleep.

He is trying so hard to drop his day sleep. Fuck that!

• Sometimes, I nap instead of doing housework.

Then say that I've been sooooo busy all day. 

• Sometimes, I feel like I'm getting dumber.

I'm smart. I know stuff. Since my daughter has started school, I notice I'm smarter than I realise. But I don't use my brain for anything more than where to keep baby wipes or how many dishes I've done today. I like to be challenged.

• Sometimes, I tell my kids to shut up

Ok, I'm not proud of this one but it has happened on more than one occasion - aka today, in the car.

• Sometimes, at night, I leave the kitchen looking like a dogs breakfast because I get lazy when I drink too much wine.

I wish I could tell you this was a one off thing. No..... Actually, I wish that my husband would clean up.... 

• Sometimes, I ignore the kids when they're naughty.

Don't lie! You've all done it. I've seen a trillion mums do this. No one wants to deal with their asshole child. In fact, no one wants to even admit they are the parent of said asshole child.

• Sometimes, I tell my kids I have a virus when in actual fact, I'm hungover.

I have no words.

Latest hangover ^^^ after this night.

• Sometimes, I can drink a whole bottle of red and not feel the slightest bit hungover the next day.

Ok, I'm both proud and concerned, all in one go.

• Sometimes, I remember to chill the fuck out.

And I should do this way more often...

At the end of the day, I'm not perfect - none of us are. We're all a bunch of mums going through the same shit, at different stages of our lives.

Be kind

You, me + 3

.my son is an asshole - part 2.

He's just so much of an asshole that I wanted to blog about it again. Not for sympathy, just to get it off my chest. This is my therapy. 

Let's start with the broken TV.

This happened about 3 weeks ago - he threw a toy at the TV with such force that it should have fallen and landed on him if it were not for the tape holding it to the unit (thank fuck it was).

Fast forward to Saturday just gone....

Aaaaand this is what my brand new TV looks like.

#mysonisanasshole

So, now we have no TV and I literally hate him. (Not really. OK maybe I did for like 10 minutes. OK I lie, it was more like 24 hours)

He has kindly smashed carton upon carton of eggs.

The last time they were high up on the bench. I'm genuinely unsure how he reached them.

I have resorted to putting all eggs in a bowl, high up in a cupboard so basically even I can't reach them. I just want to live in a world where I can reach the eggs with ease. IS THAT SO HARD TO ASK??

I have lost count of the number of times the cat food or litter has been deliberately tipped onto the floor AFTER I have vacuumed. 

^^here you go Mum, you needed more stuff to vacuum.

Obviously I have my struggles with the older 2 but nothing even comes close to the amount of asshole that is my son. 

My mother in law keeps saying that this was exactly what my husband was like as a toddler. I just can't understand why I'm the one copping his karma...? 

I try my hardest to be nice; I know he's frustrated, getting his molars AND can't communicate yet. But it's hard to be nice to someone who has given you 2 black eyes and a concussion - WITHIN TWO WEEKS!

He asks for a cup of milk, looks at you, throws it all over the floor then mocks you to wipe it up. 

#mysonisanasshole

This is the hell I am living. 

He also tried to kill my husband by stuffing a toy car into the motorbike exhaust. If I hadn't seen him do it and my husband started driving, he said it would have exploded..... Way to go son, you're an asshole.

Friends compliment me on the amount of patience I have for the asshole but sometimes, it wears thin; and I usually end up blogging about it on my kitchen floor 

Stop being such an asshole dude!!!

Ps. He's not ALWAYS an asshole. Sometimes, he's my squish.

But more often an asshole ;-)

You, me + 3

.yes, I do want your opinion on how to raise my children.

If you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic.

From the moment you tell the world that you've done the no-pants-dance and you're growing a human inside your body, people literally HAVE to tell you what to do. 

Kindly fuck off

I love advice and I'll soak that shit up like a sponge but how I choose to raise my kids, has really nothing to do with anyone.

Don't start a sentence with 'you have to'

I hate that shit. I don't have to do anything. I'm a grown ass woman, I know what I'm doing, I know how to life. I even have grey hairs.

I love hearing about other peoples experiences and how they over came obstacles etc. but the way some people (usually idiot strangers who must think that I may be stupid) deliver the advice, is hideous. 

Don't bottle feed, don't use a bouncer, don't feed your baby rice cereal, do bottle feed, don't use a baby bath, do use a baby bath. 

There is so much contradictory information/advice out there that I decided to stop listening a long time ago: I will do what's best for MY family. 

I remember when I told a mid-wife that I was unsure if I would breast feed or not. Not that it's any of her business anyway. She had no idea about my history with breast feeding and the tongue tie issues my children had. Yet she told me I would need to speak to a breast-feeding specialist; just because I was unsure. So, I felt pressured into it for 7 weeks, feeling depressed the whole time because my son had reflux so horrendous that he would scream ALL FECKING NIGHT..... She wasn't there...... To comfort me, to comfort him, to hear my son scream, to watch me cry on the kitchen floor or to help me at 3am every morning. I know her intentions were good but 1 day after putting my son on the bottle, the screaming stopped... And my sanity returned.

As mums, we should never feel pressured into doing anything! We don't really have to tell anyone how we are choosing to parent our kids. I don't mind being open and honest about the way I do things but I don't think that's an invitation to advise me to do it differently. 

Ok, sometimes I do try to do things the way others suggest, usually everything goes to shit and I hate myself for listening to others. The way we do things works for me and MY family.  

Children are all different. They're never going to all act the same way. And neither are adults. 

So, quit telling me what to do. Unless I ask - and even then, I still might not listen...

xx

You, me + 3

.you are beautiful - be yourself.

I love myself and I am not ashamed. I am different and usually not 'on trend', I am not a size 6 anymore nor do my boobs perk like they used to. I don't have a model face nor a model body but I love the body that birthed 3 children. 

^^ I'll take a silly selfie over a sexy one, any day.

And you know what helped me love myself? Having children - especially girls. They look up to me in a way that no one ever will. I never stand in front of a mirror and express how 'fat' or 'hideous' I look. I loudly state 'I look great today'! And that is what my kids need to see. Confidence. If I love how I feel in my outfit, then who gives a flying fuck what others think? What's it to them anyway? They don't care about my oatmeal belly.... 

And the compliments we pay each other in our house, are endless. I tell my kids ALL the time how beautiful their spirit is, how amazing their mind is and how wonderful they look. When my husband tells me 'your tits look great in that top' I know it's the best I'll get, so I take it. And when my kids tell me that I am the most beautiful person they've ever seen, I believe them. 

When I stand on the scales, I look down and proudly say 'yay' at the weight I am. They all love taking turns weighing themselves and WE ALL CHEER! 

Mums - Don't be so hard on yourself! You grew a human - A HUMAN BEING inside of your body and even though they  can be assholes, I know they are eternally grateful. They look up to you in a way that no one ever will.

She loves me here because I gave her ice cream 

I know the way I look is not everyone's cup of tea, but who cares. I get comments on the way I look, not always positive, but who cares. I like the way I look and fuck I rock an undercut, because I'm finally confident enough to rock it. I've wanted one for ages... 

With the access to social media these days, I'm terrified of what it will be like when my kids are teens. I love teaching my kids that it's ok to be unique. It's more than ok, it's fucking awesome! 

I am my own unique person and I enjoy life.... 

Be an amazing influence for your children. People may not be kind, but shake it off. Haters gonna hate.

^^^^ me: age 14: and no, I have not changed. 

#loveyourself 

You, me + 3

.gastro GTFO.

Today, I ran towards my child's vomit. 

Maybe I thought my body would somehow morph into a bowl as soon as the chunky hideousness splashed my chest. I was wrong.

And obviously, I was not wearing K-Mart today.. No, no, today I was wearing my favourite (fecking expensive) shirt and One Teaspoon jacket..... Why, son.... WHHHHYYYYY??? Not One Teaspoon!!!

What IS this motherly instint that kicks in to run to catch vomit/poo/a sneeze? I don't even know why I did it? They do NOT teach that at birthing classes. But I think they should - 'Who here will be having an epidural? Oh and for some stupid reason you'll run TOWARDS vomit/poo. Any questions?'

I even caught my sons vomit WHILE I WAS DRIVING!!! Whoever says that women are bad drivers, clearly don't have kids. I caught vomit! While driving! In a fucking bucket! 

And then yes, I had to continue to drive with it in my lap...... 

Actually, I think I'm a ninja. I also caught his vomit, in a bucket, in the dark - yes people IN THE DARK, in the middle of the night.... AND it was a litre of fluid. I was so proud that I yelled at my husband that I need light (obviously to prove how ninja I was) and as I was boasting, the kid let's out a final milky vom to bring me down a peg. 

The worse part? I gave it to him #badmum

Actually, the worst part was when I was visiting my dear friend who is trying to get her life sorted to move interstate, and my son projectile vomited all over her son's room... Good luck with your move, here is a parting gift of fucking Gastro.

And now it's ripping through this household faster than my eldest ripped me a new one. And it is brutal. I'm talking on the kitchen floor, on the couch, on me, on the toys. 

On the plus side - I am that feckin good at disinfecting now. I'm so thorough and fast that I could legitimately get a job  disinfecting a contagious room in a hospital. Oh and I had an excuse to get rid of a hundred toys - bonus!

^^^ I should buy shares in Dettol 

All in all, we always survive. Always look on the positive - no one has ended up in hospital and my house is so spotless that you could eat off the floor...

And by now, after 5 years, I'm so used to sickness in this household that I'm as calm as a cucumber (or are they cool? I'm that too). I kick sicknesses butt.

Gastro, GTFO!

You, me + 3

.marriage is effing hard work.

Marriage is a tough slog and if you think that it's all about date nights, sex and sex, you're about to be hit with some fucking truth. It's basically about being able to love someone at the same time as wanting to kill them.

My relationship with my husband was a whirlwind relationship. We had a long distance relationship for 3 months before I moved state to be with him. Was I 100% certain it would work, no way. But I was in love and willing to give it a go. Best decision I have ever made. 3 amazing kids and nearly 7 years later, I love him more than anything - I still want to punch his face in sometimes, just not as much.

2 weeks into moving, I found out I was pregnant and we were both ecstatic. We had spoken about marriage so I knew it was on the cards but I was in no rush. 

On valentines day (so wanky), he proposed to me in the same spot he asked me to be his girlfriend (I actually laughed at the way he asked me to be his gf, felt like we were 12. He wasn't impressed). 

3 days later, we wed. #noregrets

My parents, our dog - Bronx and a family friend witnessed the wedding and it started raining during the 'ceremony' causing us to move under the harbour bridge.  I wouldn't change a thing... Although I was falling asleep during the vows, so I would change how tired I was. 

The next day at work, I casually told my boss 'oh I got married last night, can I change my last name?'.

We have our ups and downs and we fight but we are truely soul mates. There is no one else in this world who would put up with my weirdness as much as he does. And no woman I know would put up with my husband. We're a perfect fit. I even get along with his Mum - bonus. 

But marriage can be hard! Like when he naps during the day while I'm running around cleaning our house. I literally want to smother his face with a pillow until he's close to death - I obviously still need someone to pay my rent. But I'm just jealous that he gets to nap all the fucking time, and I DON'T!!!

Ok that's a touchy subject.

Marriage is hard because you no longer are able to be selfish. Even moreso when you have kids, but I'll save that for a different blog.

Marriage is all about balance and being a stay at home Mum, I feel like he gets to have all the fun while I'm knee deep in baby shit. And that sometimes hurts. I used to work too, ya know? Only now, I work harder, work longer hours and am constantly 'on call' all for zero dollars. ZERO. FECKING. DOLLARS! 

I am very lucky that I have an awesome husband who works hard for his family. Marriage is hard at times but it's mainly because I'm jealous of him having all the fun. We have to be a team and agree with each other, especially in front of our children. 

Then kill each other fighting later, when the kids are asleep. #parenting101

You, me + 3

.expectations.

When you become a Mum there are so many expectations you may have of yourself/your children, but I bet they are not even close to what reality depicts. I thought I might help you out

10 things you should expect when becoming a parent:

• Expect your life to become all about housework.

This one I loathe the most, but if you don't do it, who will? Piss off if you say 'my cleaner'. 

• Expect to karate chop your child at least once a day.

It's not that hard kids, just sit your bloody car seat! Literally takes me 37 minutes to convince my 3 miniature life drainers to sit and be buckled in the car. (I have been locked out of my car a number of times during this process)

• Expect to give up trying to be as 'economical' or 'organic' the more children you have. 

Do you know how many loads of washing I do a day? Minimum = 3. I'm not hanging that shit out, folding it AND putting it away. Dreaming! I run a dryer all day and I'm not even ashamed. The environment won't die because I dry my fucking clothes.

• Expect to randomly want to smell your children and be overwhelmed at how amazing they smell even while covered in mud.

My children each have their own smell. And I'm addicted to each of them in a different way. 

Dammit he smells good.

• Expect to pretend to care what other people think about your parenting but then realise it's too exhausting.

This one took me too long to realise.

• Expect to never sit down.

Enjoy being able to eat a meal sitting down, while you can. I'm currently scoffing my dinner, standing (hiding) in the kitchen, downing a glass of red.

I must add that I could actually sit down but my glass of red always ends up with meat or animal poo in it and my son eats nearly half my food. I'm seriously getting an iron deficiency because he eats my food.

• Expect to be beaten up by your kids. 

It's usually not intentional but I have had a number of black eyes, a concussion 

and this week I am sporting a hideous gouge on my face!

• Expect to drink way more wine than you ever expected.

No comment 

• Expect your husband to not listen.

I could literally tell him that I pierced my own nipples this week and he wouldn't even bat an eyelid.

• Expect to watch Disney movies at 10pm because you're desperate for that one awake child to stop bitching and go to sleep...

^^^ this book did not work.

All in all, have no expectations so you'll never be upset. Best advice I have EVER received. Have no expectations and you'll be fine.

And make sure you're stocked up in wine.

You, me + 3