.10 things you thought you'd never say.

The title kinda speaks for itself for this one. All of these phrases have actually been said (out loud) by myself or my husband:

1. Don't stab me with Elsa 

I am so sick of Frozen, but to be stabbed by the Ice (crack head) Queen herself was just insulting. I had to let it go - hey... see what I did there??

2. Don't pour wee on my back

My asshole son peed in a potty then well, you know, poured it on my back. 

3. Stop playing in your poo

I have had to say this more than once, can you believe it?

4. Don't put your butt on your sister

Also another one I have to repeat - what is wrong with these kids?

5. Don't laugh at your brothers willy

He may not care now, but he will. Trust me, they don't like it when you laugh (or point) 

6. Don't poke your brothers willy..

Really? 

7. Don't wipe your snot on my crotch.

Do you know how many times I have been in public and noticed the beautiful mucus stain right at my lady parts?

8. Leave my boobies alone (usually followed by) stop slapping my boobies

Just don't.

9. Don't bite my armpit.

I have no words

10. Don't poke my armpit with Olaf.

Fuck you Frozen!

I also can't wait to tell you all the things you thought you'd never hear....

sneak peak:

I can't wait for you to die Mummy so I can hang out with Daddy. Said by my darling bitch 5 year old :)

over and out!!

You, Me + 3

.how to prepare yourself for children. toddler edition

.HOW TO PREPARE YOURSELF FOR CHILDREN.. TODDLER EDITION.

Grab absolutely everything you own, rub vegemite all over it, dump it in a toilet and then smash it on the floor until it shatters into a gatrillion pieces. Oh and while you're cleaning up that mess, ask your husband to delicately get your very expensive make up and either shove it in the toilet or dig his fingers so far into every powder or lipstick that he has to wipe the remainder all over the bath. That's just step one of surviving your time with a toddler. And I have 3!



Get your spouse to scream at you that he wants 2 minute noodles, make it, hand it to him, only for him to scream that you DIDN'T DO IT RIGHT!!!!!!! and storm off. Try and understand what the actual fuck is going on, console your spouse while getting screamed at to "GO AWAY" then drink your body weight in wine.

Buy your weekly groceries (online, don't go into a shop for like 15 years, that shit's cray), carefully put all said groceries away. Then, get your spouse to pull out the eggs, one by one (that step is more fun but not necessary) and smash them on the floor, watch him wipe it all over himself and the fridge. Clean it up while guarding the eggy mess with one hand and take said egg mess out to the garbage and come back in to find your spouse back in the fridge with his arms elbow deep in yoghurt with yoghurt covering the floor, fridge door and every single sauce you didn't even know you had. Then drink your body weight in wine. 

Get your spouse to bite you at least 7 times a day, kick you 5 times a day and slap you in the face once every other day. Pick up your spouses shit 23 times every day and change your sheets more than once a night. Oh and tell them to verbally abuse you every day for the rest of your life. Then, drink your body weight in wine.

Never shave your legs and do your arm pits about once a week. Try to take a dump in peace and quiet but get your husband to come in every 2 seconds and ask if you're done yet or "do you know how to wipe?". Start having a shower but get out every 20-30 seconds and call out "don't put your sisters barbie in the toilet" or my personal favourite "don't pee on your sister". And get all of your favourite and expensive clothes and just pour everything in your fridge onto them. Get your spouse to randomly scream as high pitched as possible every day. Then, drink your body weight in wine, plus some!

If you are thinking about having kids, read this, follow these very precise instructions, read it again and follow these instructions EVERY day for about 7 years. Then you might be ready for kids.

I love my family very much but I wish I knew this simple truth. Raising a family IS HARD! The sooner I realised this, the easier my life became. I didn't have to be perfect because my little shit heads love me no matter what! And my bigger fan is my husband and that won't change, even if I don't shave my arm pits for a week. Having a family is the most rewarding experience of my life and even though I find it EXTREMELY tiring, I wouldn't change a thing!!

Ps I don't condone alcoholism but I highly suggest keeping a stash of wine, trust me, you'll need it!

You, me plus 3

.hipster wankers.

Now I’m not paying out all hipsters here. Some of you can be quite nice actually, but the majority….. wankers. 

You think you’re too cool to say hi to me? Wanker. You think I’m not cool enough to shop at General Pants? Wanker. You think I’m ‘not cool enough’ to wear chucks? Wanker, I’ve been wearing chuck taylors while you were having your ass wiped by mummy.

I’ve been dressing a certain way since I was young and the only way to describe it is ‘different’. But now, everyone dresses like that and think they’re ‘cool’. Dammit! Tell that to the kids who used to bully me for dressing differently. They probably wear chuck taylors now, wankers… I still remember when I bought my first pair of converse high tops. they were orange and cons weren’t cool enough yet to have them in toddler size for my miniature feet. I did what anyone in my position would do and I got a pair, 2 sizes too big. I went to school the next day and some people liked them but I got a few laughs. Seriously, how does it affect you if I wear orange converse high tops? My life, my choice. Well, now every Tom, Dick and Harry has a pair and they are flying off the shelf 50% off at Paul’s warehouse (I got 2 pairs, thank you very much).

Oversized black reading glasses. Now these bad boys sell WITHOUT PRESCIPTION at sportsgirl… SPORTSGIRL?!!! They are ‘cool’ now. Another thing I was picked on for. I was 15 and I bought a sweet pair of big black (prescription) glasses and again, majority thought I looked stupid. Shame on you. I needed those to see, wanker.

Don’t even get me started on recycling my glass peanut butter jars and using them as cups because I’m a clumsy cluts and smash all my cups. Those things will break your foot if you drop them! Oh and I’m poor, can’t forget that reason. Now they have some shit fancy name – mason jars. Piss off you hipster wankers. STOP STEALING MY UNCOOL STYLE AND THINKING IT’S COOL….

You see, I’m going to turn 29 this year and I’m stuck in some sort of in between young and old realm… My husband tells me I should dress more ‘age appropriate’ … ok, I’ll go buy hideous dresses down to my calves and be depressed with my life. Piss off Brett (Love you) I’ll wear what I want. Maybe next time you take me to a work function I’ll chuck on a pair of Kylie Minogue gold pants, high top converse (obvi) and my black ray ban glasses. I don’t want to grow up – clearly.

And if you bloody hipsters steal one more piece of my style, I’ll pull all of your nose rings out, one by one. Which I took out, because you ALL HAVE IT NOW.

Love to you all….

ps this is just a bit of fun... Dress how you want and feel comfortable!

.my son is an asshole.

My Son Is An Asshole

I want to start off by saying that I love my son very much but, he is an asshole.

 My little dude was born in May last year and man, it was a rough year. Breast feeding was horrendous, I gave it up at 7 weeks for the sake of sleep, my other 2 kids and my sanity. His sleep wasn’t always the best. You see, the girls slept through the night from 5 weeks and 2 weeks old so you can imagine my shock horror when my 15 month old boy STILL DOES NOT SLEEP THROUGH!!! Like, what’s his problem? 

Anyway, everyone told me how affectionate boys are and how much they love their mummy.  Are people tricking me or are they actually serious? I have been slapped in the face by him more times than in my whole 28 years of life. I will often be woken up from a beating of a bottle and sounds of his evil laugh. I’m not allowed to cuddle my husband, Lord help me if I even try to kiss him, I get bitten – multiple times. This kid is ruthless.

It’s like he knows when I drag my tired ass to bed and juuuuust as I drift off to sleep, he screams. Dude, my tubes are tied, it’s not like you’re going to not be the youngest and cutest anymore!

Sometimes I put him in his high chair with about a day’s worth of food and see how long I can keep him in there without him screaming. We haven’t gotten past an hour. I find old mouldy food shoved in places I didn’t even know existed. Sometimes I go into my room to get changed while he’s in the kitchen and before I can even choose a top, he’s slamming my wardrobe door shut – with me in it! I've stuck my hand in the toilet bowl more times than I've changed his nappy! I've already had to buy him 4 tooth brushes because they all end up down the toilet. He hasn't had teeth for longer than 6 months!!

He’s even thrown a cheese grater at me. I’m almost positive that if he ever gets his hands on a knife or any sharp object, he would shank me! I’ve even included a selfie of the 2 of us as he slaps me across the face.

You see, this kid knows what he wants and hates me because I say no sometimes. I will not raise a spoilt little shit who is ungrateful for everything I do. Instead, it looks like I am raising a bully who beats up anyone who says no to his ridiculous demands. I feel like he thinks I’m his bitch assistant and he’s Mariah Carey! And I think from now on, Koa’s name will be Diva.

My other 2 beautiful children can never get sick, oh no, because that would mean I pay attention to them. They could be dying and he wouldn’t even care. I once caught him pushing Harper around, just because she was crying. And please do not put your hair in arms reach of him. I fell asleep on the couch once because I’d been up with him since 5am and he decided to wake me up by throwing a wooden toy at my eye whilst pulling my hair. He is an asshole*

I bet any amount of money that if anyone in your life did everything to you what my son does to me, you would call them an asshole and rid them from your life. And I understand the saying “the straw that broke the camel’s back” now better than ever. Koa is that straw.

Oh and I just want to add that I took a break from writing this to bathe the kids and Koa just chipped his top front 2 teeth. Great, now he'll be able to draw blood with his jagged teeth when he bites me 10 times a day!

*I love my son very much and would not trade him for anything.

.There is no harder than hard.

This post stems from something I watched during the week about how hard it was for a lesbian to come out of the closet. I can't imagine how hard that was for her, I've never done it. She also can't imagine how hard it is for me to handle 3 children full time, because she's never done it.

Let me put it this way: There is no such thing as harder; there is just hard. Her words. I won't take credit for them but I will repeat them.

If and when you're lucky enough to become a mum, you get to meet a bunch of other mums who you probably have nothing in common with, apart from your horror stories of episiotomies (Men should google image that word). There are some really cool down to earth Mum's out there, with whom I am friends with :) Then you have the one-upers. Their stories will ALWAYS BE BETTER THAN YOURS!! Their lives will always be harder than yours and more importantly, their babies are better than yours. Well to that I say bullshit. I unknowingly was one of those Mum's because I just wanted to share my story and I probably wanted sympathy at the time. But the thing is, we're all in the same boat! No one knows my circumstances, doesn't know my life and has not walked a mile in my shoes. But I haven't walked a mile in their shoes either. There is no harder; there is just hard.

Your life is not harder than anyone elses just because you moved out of home at a young age. Or because you're a single Mum to 7 kids. Yes, both of those things are hard but neither is "harder" than the other, it's all relative. If you've had the worst day but a friend calls you up and needs to vent about their day, let them. Don't try and make it about you. Help them, listen to them and be there for them.

Since having my third (and final) baby, I get called super mum or brave for having 3 kids, 4 and under, at home full time with me. "It must be hard" is a statement I often hear. But it's no harder than a single person trying to pay their bills every week or trying to get by week to week. It is hard sometimes, and I do like to have a quick bitch about my hard times occasionally but ya know what? I don't want anyone's pity, I just need to vent.

I guess it just annoys me when people play the victim. I am ashamed to say that I used to. I wanted people's pity but the older I get, the more the pity and that victim mentality annoys me. You have the choice to be positive and I know it's in there, you just have to dig deep to find it. Life is hard sometimes and you can cry about it forever or you can learn from mistakes you may have made, have a quick bitch and move on.

I choose moving on!

And remember: There is no such thing as harder, there is just hard!

Peace x
Harly, Harper, Koa & me

.life with 3.

If any of you reading this are planning on starting a family, I strongly suggest that you take my advice. If you are a woman who likes to look after yourself, get your hair done, go get your nails done or even take a shit by yourself, may I please suggest that you have 2 children maximum :)

I love each and every one of my children but there are times that I go a day and half without showering. I'm constantly busting for the toilet and I usually either eat lunch at 4pm or don't have it at all. But you know what? I wouldn't change anything. I'm happy I had 3 kids, from a young age I always thought I would have 3 children. I just think I have to have a good mind set, chill out a bit, let the kids rummage through the tupperware cupboard for fun and just be prepared to always be covered in wee, poo or spew (or all of the above).

We had a bit of a rough patch with our little Koa bear. He's 3 months now and finally in a routine. He had to just fit in to our already hectic life. Poor thing, would often be crying in his swing, I'd occasionally call out "I'll be there in a second Koa bear" but by the time I had fixed the girls breakfast, got them dressed and sculled my coffee, he would be asleep. I wasn't sure which method I would use putting him to sleep as I had used 2 completely different ones with my girls. Looks like it was the controlled crying method by default.

And then there's Harlyn with (I'm not exaggerating) a million questions a day! "Mummy, why do you brush your hair?" "Mummy, why are you on the toilet?" and my favourite "Mummy, why are you always in the kitchen" because it's clearly my favourite place in the house and if I could, I would sleep here. Now shut up and eat the food you asked me to make. Oh you want something else now? Then I say a little prayer "God, please help me from punching harly in the boob"
Then there are the moments that she comes up and starts brushing my hair saying "You're so beautiful mummy, I love you." And I forget about all the times she yells at me.

Even though my kids give me the shits, they're MY children whom I created (with a little help from Brett). They make my life so fun and interesting and I could not imagine living without them or Brett. But if you are thinking of having a third, make sure you have family around, have one or more in preschool or school and stock your cupboard full of wine. Maybe take up boxing as well. Most friends call me "Supermum" or call me "Brave" thank you all for the compliments but I call it insane :) In no way do I think that I am the perfect Mum but I am the prefect Mum for Harlyn, Harper and Koa. They are my kids for a reason and I will do everything I can to love and protect them. 

Harly, Harper, Koa & me xx

.pink, pink, blue.

Well, It's a been a whole year since I have written anything. Mainly because there's really not that much to tell. oh wait. I had another baby! A boy! Hooray for a penis.
But my goodness, I will not be having any more children. Ever! 

I actually handled the contractions like a boss, often laughing and making jokes with Brett and the midwife in between. I was so comfortable but they kept telling me to change positions. Get down on all fours, stand up, lean forward. Shut up! I just wanted to lean back, sit in my chair, suck down that wonderful gas and kick my husband during every contraction. This seriously got me through. With them coming every 2 minutes though, I was exhausted and asked for an epidural.

Now, I have had 2 children already and the births were quite calm due to the epidural. The anesthesiologist came and put that glorious, glorious needle in my back. Contraction after contraction, the needle was still in my back and he kept fiddling around. Needle came out. Boo!! Needle goes back in, comes out, goes back in and comes out again. Fourth time lucky? yeah? No. I just started crying. This baby was coming out and coming out fast. 

With no epidural like I had planned, I had to push. Let's just say that I can not believe that women have more babies after giving birth without an epidural. If you haven't had kids, imagine the most excruciating pain you could ever feel and times it by infinity. And that 's what birthing a human feels like. I even bit Brett. 

I felt a massive relief when his (didn't feel) tiny head came out. That was the easy part. What I didn't notice was the cord was actually wrapped around his neck and the doctor was struggling to get it off. What I should also mention is that his heart rate was dropping with every contraction. They were starting to worry a bit and I may have needed to go for a c-section. I started yelling at the midwives to literally pull him out of me. There was no way I could push anymore. I had absolutely no energy. Everyone had stern words to me and told me to shut up and push. Finally, he came out. No cry. They put his limp little body on me and Brett cut the cord. I felt like I was in shock a little bit because I just didn't know what I was doing. He had a heartbeat but hadn't taken his first little breath because he was also in shock. It felt a lot longer but a minute later and teeny tiny cry was heard.

I love photos but the photos of me just minutes after giving birth should be burned. Brett and Koa look great. You know those women who look amazing and are so full of life just after giving birth? I am not one of those women. I look like a bus, train and car all hit me consecutively after not sleeping for a year.

Little Koa Lennox (batman) Haddad was born May 13 2013 weighing 3.5 kilos. He is a little champ and totally completes our family. I tell you what though, if this experience was my first, Harly would have been an only child. Brett will be getting a vasectomy, I will be getting my tubes tied and I think I'll also go on contraception. Just in case....


But good luck if you're pregnant :-/

Harly, Harper, Koa & me