21st silly thing | things that are meant to make life easier, but don't

These days there are so many things we 'need' as parents that my mind literally melts. When I was pregnant with my first child, we lived in a developing country, so it wasn't until I returned to Australia in my 32nd week did I even cast my eyes on a baby store.

In fact, I remember it vividly. We were about to step inside the sliding doors when my husband stopped me. He held my hands, looked directly into my eyes and said:

"Babe remember, we don't need everything this store sells."

I will never forget those words.

At the time I smiled at him and wondered what the fuss was about. I was even slightly puzzled. Until we walked in. And then I was gobsmacked. I absorbed the greatness of his words as I scanned the department-sized store. Did you really need all this stuff for just one itty bitty baby?

That day we walked out of the store empty-handed, but did eventually make the essential purchases: cot and infant car seat. I'm proud to admit I didn't even buy a pram until my firstborn was well into his second year. Perhaps we had observed too many Papua New Guinean families survive quite nicely without all the fangdangled stuff the western world had to offer. So we thought we could do without too. And we did.

Of course, now I've moved back to the Lucky Country I'm back to consuming at a semi-decent rate. I visit my local Baby Bunting store regularly, own a frequent buyers card and am tempted by everyone else by its wares and latest 'must haves'.

In fact, four years down the track I'm interested in anything that will make my life easier. Like the pictured shoes, for example. Purchased at a very decent price from a fashion children's store, they seemed like such a find at the time. Shoes that you didn't need to lace up, just zip and go. Awesome!

Well, in theory. But a recent visit into the same store has got me thinking that perhaps everyone who originally thought like me, doesn't think so now. They're certainly not selling them anymore.

These shoes have to be the hardest things to put on a child. Ever. Do you hear me? Because as well as zippers, which get stuck or caught and never zip up properly, there are also laces that need to be tied as well. It seems my aversion of those ugly velcro sneakers are looking mighty tempting after the last few weeks.

And instead of quickly popping them on as we race out the door, these shoes take around six minutes to put on. You think I'm joking? Well, I timed it this morning. Six and a half minutes of pushing, shoving, asking my child through gritted teeth to keep their knees straight while I yanked them on. Then asking him to sit in the corner to give me some more muscle and watching my child wince...

Ridiculous.

But on a nicer note, today was a fabulous day. After playgroup, we enjoyed a backyard picnic to celebrate  the sunshine and approaching birth of spring. Look at these boys lapping up the sunshine!

And I only had to put those stupid shoes on and off four times today.

Please don't get me started.

20th silly thing | why didn't i wait just a little bit longer?

This morning my brother Stephen and his gorgeous wife Lee announced the arrival of their first child - a son. Skype is the best invention ever, since I was able to talk to Lee during the labour (don't worry, she'd just had an epidural and was very relaxed), and also see the end result just a few hours later. What bliss!

Although looking at him was a close second to actually holding him (they live in the US, I live in Australia), but I was still over the moon with excitement.

And so prepared. I've known for a while this baby was coming, that it was a boy, and what his name was. So I was proactive.

1. Purchased baby bunting (check),
2. Made baby memory book (check),
3. Arranged for my very talented friend at Tildys to hand stamp the above delightful baby spoon and fork set (check).

It was all package up and ready to go, hoping to arrive not long much after the baby.

There was only one problem. I'd been too efficient. (Actually, my husband tells me this often.)

Lee was overdue. So overdue in fact that the birth of her baby coincided with her father's birthday. So they changed his middle name in honour of the birthday boy.

Ryan Keith is now his name. Not Ryan James as listed on the baby utensils.

And now you can visualise me poking that fork into my forehead and banging the spoon against my temple...

19th silly thing | why don't kids just sleep instead of fighting it?

Is it just me, or does just looking at this photo make you sleepy?

Perhaps it's because I'm just so tired... but I had to post it while the picture was fresh from the bakery.

"Mummy, I'm not tired!" He exclaimed earlier.

Hmmm, best to try and tell that to another mummy.

18th silly thing | toys that have a life of their own

For my one year old's birthday, he received this wonderful toy camera. When you press the buttons it makes the most interesting of noises.

I loved it.

That is until it had a mind of its own. It's started to talk without the assistance of pressing any of the buttons.

Yep. It popped, clicked, puckered, splat and made the most horrid of noises.

While. I. Was. Sleeping.

And by this afternoon I was quite sick of its continual conversation and pulled out the batteries. There! I thought. That'll shut you up.

Later, I heard it again. My son had found the screwdriver and put the batteries back in. He's so helpful. And then while he was outside in the garden with Daddy, I promptly took them out again.

While we were saying grace at dinner tonight, guess what I heard? I couldn't believe it.

My darling hubby had heard the random noises earlier and thought that the batteries must have been going flat. So he put in new batteries.

Just a few minutes ago I observed my husband taking the batteries back out of the toy camera.

Oh, to live in a house of happy helpful men. Thrills my soul.

16th silly thing | would you eat this?

I like to cook. No, I love to cook.

I buy food magazines, I pour over recipes, my favourite website is taste.com.au, and I'm a proud member of a Food Club. Hey, I even make things that usually look and taste good.

But when I cook, there are guidelines:

1. I like knowing what I'm going to cook in advance,
2. I like to know I have all the ingredients on hand,
3. I need time so I can enjoy the process,
4. I like to cook earlier in the day when I'm still relatively alert and have energy,
5. I need a thoroughly spotless kitchen.

Of course, it's so rare that all of these points coincide. Which means my love for cooking is not unconditional.

In fact, if all of these requirements aren't met, I absolutely hate it.

And last night was no exception. While hurrying around the kitchen, not knowing what to make for dinner at 5:45pm, I worked in a messy kitchen while the boys screamed in the bath. Yep, it was a cooking disaster just waiting to happen.

The reason for my last minuteness was actually well-intentioned. I had gone through my entire pantry and culled anything that was out of date, had MSG in it, was too salty, or was an item I just don't think we'll eat. I wrote down a couple of menu ideas to use up my stash of Things I Used Rarely, just so I could get the cupboard back into working order (read: less packed so when the doors open, the items don't burst out).

Most of the dinner ideas weren't valid for this evening's meal as I didn't have all the ingredients. And so I was left back at square one: what to have for dinner? And now it was literally time to eat, and nothing was even prepared. Hubby would be in the door in a moment, and the kids would need to be out of the bath shortly with nothing cooking while they were being dressed in their jammies (the screaming also wasn't subsiding).

Stressed? Who me?

So I did what anyone in my situation would do. I made dessert first. As part of next week's dinner plan, a self-sauced pudding was essential. After all with only five days of winter to go, I hadn't made even one this season.

And the above picture was the finished product.

It wasn't so much of a butterscotch self-saucing pudding, as a gluggy bland custard with gooey yellow skin. Heck, the kids didn't even eat it.

And let's not even start with main course...

LIFE IS LIKE A BOX OF SAMPLES.

In my weird little mind, not buying $40 foundation helps to square up the cost of my husband's recent trip to Europe.

Yeah, I know. And to save all those thousands of pennies, I've reverted to using make up samples.

I don't know what's wrong with me... I don't even wear make up more than twice a week. (And that's a big make up week.) So, it's not like I slap it on and buy new stuff every month. 

And please don't ask me what else I've done to 'save' money.

How do you try and save money?

16th silly thing | too many to count

I confess my daily blogs have been sporadic of late.

Perhaps I'm getting lazy with my daily posts, perhaps I just can't seem to focus on just one silly thing. Or perhaps I'm just too ashamed to share all the silly things I do.

The past few days, there has been a large share of discipline in my home. I know, it's not nice to admit but that's the way it's been. There's been too much misbehaviour for me to overlook.

Perhaps I'm not 'choosing' my fights with the kids. Or perhaps they're just getting on my nerves. Either way I hate telling my kids off. Because I'm an optimist.

If I had it my way, it would be good times 24/7.

Everyday would be a fun adventure and the boys would love, love, love me. And never take for granted all the good things I do for them. Of course, It would be so easy to love them unconditionally because they would always be perfectly behaved.

But I'm dreaming, and I know it.

The clinch came on Saturday when asking the boys to stop screaming for the one hundredth time. Now, usually I'm a 'three strikes and your out' girl. I am onto it. But I was tired of the naughty spot and tired of being the constant killjoy. So I held by breath and just let them scream. And scream.

By the time my ears were ringing, I thought they're actually not going to stop unless I ask them to. And it's been long enough. I could feel the rage brewing in my stomach up through my throat.

I asked nicely. Then waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I could feel the steam brewing around my ears and thought that I was best not to wait any longer until this was resolved.

And when my son finally stopped screaming, he looked at me and said, "Mummy, I don't want to be in trouble all the time."

His big brown eyes brimmed with tears and I saw the pain in his expression. His lip even quivered.

And it made me just want to cry. Why, oh why do I have to be the bad mummy all the time? Why can't he see that some things will give him time out? Why can't he just stop without me having to tell him? Why can't he just do as he's told?

This is the hard part of parenting. The bit I wish I didn't have to do.

The rest of the day was spent me re-analysing all my parenthood qualities or lack thereof. I went through days of past activities and the paths where they led. Should I just let more things go? I am a control freak? Should I try another approach? Could I have resolved things differently?

At the end of a tearful day, I realised that I can't change the past, and have no choice but to carry on. Think more before I react. And be the best mother I can be.

I know I miss the mark on a regular basis. But I'm doing my best. And that is the most I can ever do.

15th silly thing | reasoning from a child's perspective

At the moment, Madison's favourite line is "Oh, that's my favourite!"

And he uses the sentence quite liberally.

It's used for chocolate (understandable), hot chips (fair enough), milkshakes (okay), cheesy mite scrolls; cheese sandwiches (well, if you insist), tshirts; trackie pants (a boy of style?), bubble baths, drinks, toys, tinned food in the supermarket... even his new bright green thongs.

Even though he says it a lot, he still says it oh so genuinely, every time.

Today, he was looking at his favourite photographs, our wedding pictures in our hallway.

He asked, "Mummy, there is you and Daddy, Kelly and Leah, but where is me and Noah?"

I replied, "You didn't exist yet."

He asked, "Why not?"

I said, "You weren't born yet."

He sat there for a moment and looked at the photograph, and then looked at me.

Then he just grinned at me and said, "Oh Mummy, you're just tricking... we were just hiding!"

I'm not sure where he thought he was hiding, but that's my favourite!

14th silly thing | the robot suit

In the past 24 hours a Huggies nappy box has made a slow transformation into a Robot Suit. Well, that's not what Madison calls it. For a while we couldn't work out why he kept referring to his 'soup'. Then we realised what he meant.

This afternoon Daddy added some eyes and a nose. And when it was completed, Madison came into the room where I was quietly reading to show me his new additions.

"Mummy, Daddy says now I look vewy vewy scawy in my robot soup."

Oh, bless...

I could eat that very scary robot in the soup.

15th silly thing | the results of an early night

Thursdays are Errand Days. Yesterday was particularly busy. With all the kindergarten research done this week, the last of the kindys were visited, application forms completed, deposits paid, and groceries purchased. The boys both had naps in the car, but probably not the usual length of time as when they're asleep in their own beds.

I noticed that the behaviour steadily declined throughout the day. But that was fair enough, it had been a big one. Madison succumbed to temptation while I was paying for the groceries at Coles. He'd unwrapped a Kinder Surprise chocolate and started eating it. He'd been caught (the silence was deafening) and then an apology and payment for the Kinder Surprise followed. I was upset, but thought this was a great chance for him to learn about stealing (which we have discussed before, but probably not to this extent). I was sorry I had purchase the tin of chocolate wafers as a 'sometimes' treat.

While we headed home, we talked about the one thing we hadn't had time to do: buy Daddy a birthday and Father's Day gift. It's Daddy's birthday on Monday, and we decided that while he was away we'd buy both occasions' gifts so it was all done by the time he got home from his interstate trip.

So, we planned to hurry home and unpack the groceries. The boys would have a bath, we could eat an early dinner, put on our jammies and enjoy a little late night shopping and be home by 8pm - bedtime.

They would crash once we got home.

Plans were short lived when after bath and dinner while I cleaned up, Madison decided to pull the cushions off our lounge and jump on them. He usually does that, so it's not a big deal. But he must have jumped off the couch onto the cushions and banged his mouth on the corner of the office desk nearby. His scream was blood curdling. And after much comfort, bleeding and one big fat lip, the boy finally subsided. He fell asleep. It was 6pm.

By this time, Noah was rubbing his eyes as well - after all, he's used to two sleeps in the day. Well, I thought. They've eaten, they're clean, they both might as well sleep it off. We'll buy gifts tomorrow.

So by the time the boys were asleep, the evening jobs were done, it was 7pm. A miracle.

I changed into my pyjamas and crawled into bed. I finished reading a friend's manuscript (ah, the feeling of finishing a book!) and was ready to sleep by 9:30pm. It's been a while since I was actually asleep that early.

Every work day my alarm is set for 5:30am so I can get my paid work done in the quiet of the house. I was wide awake half an hour before it went off, and decided to make the most of it.

Now, it was probably too expectant of me, but I just thought the boys would get up at normal time - 8am.

But by 6am, there was movement at the station. The boys were up early. I guess it was understandable seeing they'd gone to bed early too. But I had work to do. I told them that they could play quietly in their room until it was time for breakfast.

There was a couple a toilet stops, and requests for drinks which is normal. But I wasn't happy about Madison spitting on the bathroom floor. Apparently he wanted to see what poo tasted like. Well, obviously he didn't like the flavour.

Then quiet. I kept working.

Then there was screaming. I raced into the boys' room to find both of them in Noah's cot. Madison was waving his legs wildly and Noah was scared. With good reason.

And then I saw it.

An empty tin of chocolate wafers on the bedroom floor. The boys had eaten the whole lot.

The stealing, the skydiving, the sampling, sneaking, snacking and swinging. It was all I could do to keep it together. My sense of humour was gone, and I knew it wasn't because I was tired: I haven't rested this well in months.

It's been some time since I've had such interesting marathon of events happen at home, and I confess that I haven't really missed it.

Bring back the good ole days, I say.

14th silly thing | seeking help from your toddlers

Seeking help from your children will only result in this.

Never, I repeat, never do this at home (unless you don't mind destroyed goods).

13th silly thing | little people doing cute stuff

Once the evening routine is done, bath had, dinner eaten, it's usually free time for the boys while we clear away the dishes before story time.

This is the time where there's lots of fun and activity. After all, Madison has missed his younger brother terribly while he's been sleeping the afternoon away, and can't wait to get playing again.

So they race up and down the hallway, chasing each other and making lots of cute noises. Sometimes the noises aren't as cute when the behaviour gets rough, but usually it's happy!

I was hoping to video their shananagans, but missed it (those damn dishes). But I did get this boy sliding head first off his toy car. Obviously still a little hyped up from all the running around.

Very cute, silly little people.

12th silly thing | a little too much time can be spent on research

Why is it that choosing schools doesn't seem important until it's your child?

Some time ago I had a reality check. It included my limited patience and the reason why I deferred studying early learning teaching. I decided that my children will not be home schooled.

And since my son's 4th birthday in May, I've been saying to my darling hubby that it's time for us to consider 4 year old kindergarten because our son seemed ready.

My husband poohooed the idea. For quite some time.

To the point where a conversation with a friend this week made me realise that if I don't do something soon, my son will be spending a year being home-schooled.

So, right after my conversation with her I started researching all the schools in the area. The public school grants, the private early learning centres. I stepped out which was the closest, the furthest and which ones would cost the most. I browsed websites which told of essential facilities, printed out questions that I should ask (is three pages too much?), I dug a little deeper with my friends, the mums at the pool, at playgroup, and basically anyone who had an opinion (Facebook is fabulous for that sort of thing).

And after a marathon effort of visiting four schools in a 12-hour period, I'm reconsidering.

Perhaps I've done too much research? Perhaps I've read too much about all the things I should be asking about while missing some of the other features of each kindy? Perhaps I've thought too much about what the 'perfect' school might look like? All those websites with beautiful rooms has certainly raised expectations just a tad.

After some consideration, I wondered if no school was good enough for my child. Despite all the colourful rooms, the government grants and beautiful teachers. I was still unconvinced.

Then I found it.

The perfect kindergarten. Of course it has a waiting list (because I'm not the only one who thinks it's fabulous). But, the list is short, and there's still a chance of a cancellation. And because I suspect the searching doesn't end here, I still have three more interviews this week.

Hopefully time will tell if there's something perfect for my boy, oh, that's also available.

In the meantime, my son will wait patiently to start kinder. Because, he's not as fussy. Because, quite frankly, by the end of the Kinder Hunting Day he had made friends, joined in every activity, and made himself at home at each and every one.

He'd be happy with any of them.

11th silly thing | not doing more of this sooner

A day of spending the day with family and friends at a twins' 5 year old birthday party, and then the rest of the day scrapping... I can hardly think of a better day.

Actually, hold that thought.

I would have rather spent more time with my friends at the party enjoying conversations instead of running around after my toddler and listening to half a dozen snippets of conversation.

Yes. That would have been much better.

10th silly thing | fancy fingers

Luckily, I'm not the only one in my household who says and does silly things. I have my children, who probably inherited their behaviour from their mother (after all, their father is far too serious to be silly).

But this was so cute. After yesterday's clean out, there are a few things that are still on the kitchen bench. Partly because they're still in use, and partly because they're also homeless.

And because they're lying about, my four year old has been playing. And dipping his fingers into the fun stuff.

And this picture?

"Look at my Fancy Fairy Fingers, Mummy."

Cute. Very, very cute.

9th silly thing | check first before spending

There's a reason why we need plenty of storage space. Firstly, we own too much stuff. Secondly, in order to see all the stuff we have, it needs to be easy to see and access too. Just so we don't forget what there is.

And Friday, I discovered other benefits.

Like financial benefits. Emotional benefits. And health benefits.

And having a little clean out of two small baskets holding herbs, spices and first aid stuff, I was amazed.

Amazed at how many double ups we had (financial). How much rubbish we had (emotional). How many things had reached their use by date (health).

And the other emotional benefit. Knowing I didn't need to buy Lemon Pepper, Cumin, Basil and Panadol for around ten more years, or until their use by date. Whichever comes first.

8th silly thing | we took ourselves far too seriously

My friend Melody and I have spent the last 24 hours reminiscing.

Playing the music we made, pulling out the old photos (like this one), remembering the live gigs, the recording sessions, the emabarrasing lyrics... all while living 140 kilometres apart. (Yes, Facebook is amazing.)

And mostly, realising how so much has changed. Okay, maybe that was just me thinking about the last part.

Perhaps it's hindsight or romantic reflection. But I don't feel as carefree today as I was while we were posing for this picture. All of us were renting, or living at home. There wasn't a mortgage in sight. We were at the beginning stages of our adult life (some more so than others). We were making steps towards our careers of choice, had dreams and were excited about the future. We weren't married, we didn't have kids, and we really didn't have that many responsibilities.

Of course, I didn't take too seriously wanting to be famous (despite the attitude depicted here). I really enjoyed singing, shaking those percussion eggs for all they were worth and performing whenever we could. I loved hanging out with these guys (still do) and was living for the moment. But I know that was just me.

In fact, while half of us had dreams of fulfilling other passions, the other half had a love for music so strong that one is now living in North Queensland performing and recording for a living (he's also living his dream of being a vegan hippie). The other one, well they'd like to be doing the same (minus the vegan hippie part). And they will, one day, because they are super-duper talented.

Dreams of grandeur. I think they're for the young. Not that I'm not young. But dreams of being famous are for those who haven't had much life before, and have a whole life ahead. For those who think it's years and years of time before they're 30. In fact, in those early years, who's even thinking about tomorrow?

Perhaps our dreams don't die, they just change as we get older. Perhaps they get more realistic. Perhaps we won't be rich and famous touring the world while everyone recognises us by our first name. Maybe the more realistic dream is getting regular work, earning a living, and people who love your style and support you by buying your albums.

While I had a break to pull my thoughts together for this blog entry, I did today's dishes and pondered on my dreams. Of course it hit me that I'm obviously not living anyone's dream of grandeur as I don't even have a dishwasher.

But I digress.

Between the four of us, there's been four weddings (none to each other), six male offspring, two mortgages, sensible jobs (or the thought of sensible jobs), financial struggles and life issues. The guys don't even have long hair anymore (we've left that to our respective children).

And what of our dreams today? Or our altered dreams?

One thing is certain: if we were posing for the above photo today, I, for one, would definitely be taking myself much less seriously.

7th silly thing | times i wish i'd shut my mouth instead of opening it

How many times have you said something just to wish you could take it back and replace it with a better alternative? Something that had more thought to it? Something more intelligent? Perhaps saying nothing at all rather than saying anything?

Well, I've lost count. There have been so many times I've walked away from a conversation and kicked myself for not saying what takes me the next 3 hours to re-construct. And many a time I've slammed my palm against my forehead wishing that what I said sounded more what I meant than how it actually came out.

In a nutshell, I'm just not quick enough. Not articulate enough. Which is probably why I like writing so much. It gives me time to get it right (mostly).

Like today, when an old friend of my husband's called this afternoon to see how his Euope trip went. I haven't spoken to her in a few months and so we had a brief catch up while my husband returned from... wherever he'd gone to.

She's an ideas kind of gal. And she and some friends have decided to buy a church, do it up with female labour (in the name of fundraising for underprivileged girls in Calcutta) and are going to donate funds to a charity called City Of Joy. Great idea? You betcha.

Anyway, she mentioned offhandedly that maybe I should do the marketing for it. And reasons that I probably shouldn't go into here sent me into a panic. And then I thought, Yikes! That would be such a lot of work... but so much fun.

Instead, what came out was: "Oh, I'd love to, but I wouldn't have time for that. What with the kids and working the equivalent of three days a week..."

What? Where the heck did that come from?

Now, you have to understand, I'm no busier than the next person. I'm busy: just like Everyone Else I Know.

But saying it to this girl? Let me explain.

She's a working mother. A full-time working mother. A full-time working single mother. And yet, here she is, deciding to purchase a building, run a fundraiser and raise money for those who need it.

In. Her. Spare. Time.

I can't believe I sounded so arrogant. So busy. So much more busier than her.

This is where I wish my fast thinking brain should switch into overdrive and give me something much more graceful to say.

Instead of silly words that sounded like I didn't care.

Now it's your turn to share... firstly, to make me feel much better. And secondly, to make me feel much better. Thanks.

6th silly thing | trying to find a black and white answer on who to vote for

Warning: this post includes discussion about politics, budgie smugglers and the upcoming election.

When I was a child, my father told me that it was inappropriate to talk about the following things:

1. What people earn
2. What people believe in
3. Who people vote for

He also was pretty stringent with etiquette at the dinner table, but that isn't relevant here.

As a child I really didn't understand why these were taboo topics. But as an adult I understand completely. Never is a conversation going to get more firey, more passionate, or more divided when these topics are raised.

For example, a few weeks back a friend was telling me about her salary. She felt she should be earning more. She's a private school teacher who has joined a Union and went on strike. Now, I'm not going to say that I don't agree. But why should she earn more than another teacher working for the public system in the same state? Really, what is fair?

Belief systems are self explanatory. After all, the debate on what you believe is well, your belief. It's hard to argue a matter so close to your heart, your culture and sub-culture (although it seems that many still persist on trying).

And voting? It's sort of like your beliefs, and then you align them with the party that works most closely. So, it's a bit passionate too. That being said, it's a subject I don't mind discussing with a few of my closest friends.

Come this election, this is how I'd like to vote if I could.

Climage change as a main instead of an entree. Double servings of quality health care and education with paid parental leave on the side. I know it's dessert, but please can I have a double helping of reduced debt, and less backstabbing? I'm tired of the board specials and wondering what is with the Millenium Development Goals? It seems that noone has that on their menu board anymore. Perhaps that should be dished up for starters...

Unfortunately, I don't believe wholeheartedly in one party. I really like half a dozen of the policies of one party but can't stand six other policies from that very same group.

What has brought all of this to a head, you ask? Well, last night I was called up by the Australian Poll People asking where my vote would be come voting day. My response?

"I can't decide."

"Well, perhaps you're leaning more one way than the other?"

"Oh dear. I don't think I do."

"Surely, Madam you have a party preference?"

"Nope. Really, I don't."

Oh, that poor guy. He couldn't get a preferential vote from me last night. He tried. He really, really tried.

And after a few hours this morning researching all the parties (Shooters & Fishers included) and what they're selling, the fact is, I still don't know who to vote for. Perhaps I'll stick to the two big ones (where pretty much all the little ones end up anyway).

1. How about our first female leader?
2. Or maybe the man who women hate (and also happens to look a little bit hot in budgie smugglers)?

If only it were just about those two things.

On second thoughts, that could be a hard decision too.

5th silly thing | not making the most of the day

The silliest thing I did today was not get out of the house sooner to bask in the glorious sunshine. It was a beautiful warm day - most strange for the coldest month of the year.

Once we arrived at playgroup, the kids all headed outdoors and you could see a new energy after being indoors for weeks. My children included.

In fact it was so beautiful, when playgroup was over we headed to the lake to do a little more sun worship. It seemed we weren't the only ones.

The best things in life are indeed free.

4th silly thing | using technology rather than trusting your sense of direction

I couldn't resist putting in this gorgeous photo of a few of our favourite lads at Chesterfield Farm where we celebrated Jacob's 4th birthday (centre). Here he is with Zac (left) and Madison (right) cuddling the cutest little bunnies.

The weather was sunny and glorious, and being on the Farm was a hit with the kids.

But the silly thing today was driving up and down the road trying to find the Farm, and arriving late. And when a kid's party only goes for a couple of hours, half an hour is quite a chunk of celebrating/play time.

If I learned one thing today, it is: I rely on technology far too much and shouldn't trust the numbering system on a GPS.

3rd silly thing | letting my child stay up late

So here is my child sitting in the lounge room of a friend's place watching television.

At 10:40pm.

This was an evening with friends. A rare opportunity to go out on a Saturday night.

Although I'm now home and he's fast asleep in bed, tomorrow is going to be a difficult day.

And I will know that, tonight, I made a silly decision.

2nd silly thing | mummy should know better

Photos just don't do accidents/mess/dirt any justice.

My children get grottier than most other children I've ever seen, and they look just mildly dirty in the photo. I share some cute pictures of my toddler with pasta sauce all over his face, arms, legs, body, clothes... and in the photo, there's a little bit of red on their faces, but nothing like real life.

And today, Noah decided to pull down from the dining room table a full cup of soy milk. Crawled in it. Stomped in it. Lay in it. And swirled it around with his fingers. Milk was everywhere.

But from the photo, it looks like a teeny tiny accident. And the child looks immaculately clean. Let me assure you, it's the photo.

And you know the whole reason why he's sitting in the middle of spilt milk is because of you.

As my eldest son put it: "Mummy, it's your fault Noah tipped over the cup of milk. That's because you put it too close to the edge of the table."

Silly, silly Mummy.

1st silly thing | scratching my eyes out

I've been using eye cream for over 15 years now. But that's not my silly thing. Eye cream is actually very sensible.

The silly thing is that in those 15 plus years I have purchased most of those eye creams in glass jars. And then as religiously as I put it on, I also drop those lovely jars on my bathroom tile floor. Not only because I'm silly, but because I'm also a little clumsy.

On the odd occasions, I have been seen sprawled out on my bathroom floor mumbling madly to myself as I desperately try and salvage eye cream from the floor, cutting myself on the sharp glass. (You would think that someone would make eye cream jars out of that safetly glass, rather than the Kill Me Sharp glass they use). Then I put the eye cream back in the glass jar.

And keep using it.

The jar is getting low of it's miracle concoction. And this morning I cut my finger trying to get some of the Previously Been On The Floor goop out of my broken jar. Then I patted it softly around my eyes (just in case I there's some glass in the cream).

In all the sillyness, I've not cut my face yet.

Well, not on the eye cream glass anyway.

the silly things i do

Life is short. In fact, it's so short, we take ourselves far too seriously. So this month is dedicated purely to the silly things I do on a daily basis.

I could tell you that I'm this highly effective organised person, but who am I kidding? I have foibles.

Apparently.

My husband reminds me only every now and then. So perhaps they're not that bad.

Pff.

Anyway... onto some of those silly things. We can blog about more sensible things later. Oh, and if you'd like to share some of your silly things, please do so. I welcome lots of feedback.

Which will remind me that I'm not the only one with funny ways.

how on earth did i manage time to do this?

My life is a like a fish bowl.

Well, okay. My life is a Very Small fish bowl. Without water and fish. I'm not good with fish.

I put large stones in my bowl. It looks full. Then I put in pebbles and shake the jar lightly. The pebbles roll into the open areas between the large stones. The bowl is now full. A box of sand is then poured into the bowl. The sand fills up everything else. The jar must surely be full. Then I pour two cups of tea into the bowl, which fills the empty space between the sand.

Now, the bowl is officially full.

The large stones are the important things in my life – God, my family, health, friends and favorite passions — things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, my life would be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like my job, house and car. Well, maybe not my car. The sand is everything else — the small stuff.

If I'd put the sand into the fish bowl first there would be no room for the pebbles or large stones. The same goes for life. If I spend all my time and energy on the small stuff, I would never have room for the things that are important to me.

Like blogging.

I can't believe I'm going to say it. But after four days of not doing it, I miss blogging. And, I quickly discovered that even though I had an hour more free time each night, I wasted it on things I didn't enjoy.

Like folding washing. And ironing.

Ugh.

I also realised how much blogging was the reward at the end of my busy day. My quiet time to reflect. The inspiration to finish my tasks quickly. Turns out that my daily 'to do' list isn't the only thing that keeps me focused. If I don't have a goal, I just dawdle my way to the end of the day.

And still go to bed late.

Then, when I don't have to, on my first 'blog free' day, I thought of a million things to write about. I was writing blog entries in my sleep.

So here I am, willingly going at it again. Picking a theme and blogging about it every day.

What do you know? Blogging is one of my passions. One of my big stones. If I reset my priorities, ironing is just sand.

And the cups of tea? No matter how full my life may seem, there’s always room for a cup of tea with friends.