A couple of weeks back I mentioned Oli took a FIFO job and we were about to embark on a challenging new path... Well (thankfully) that never eventuated. Turns out Oli is gold in a human form according to his current boss, so he convinced him to stay. Which clearly I had no objections to! I would have been a miserable, lonely, Grinch come Christmas had Oli left us, so thank fark those plans changed...
Oscar has just hit 9 months, and our wee cadet is commando crawling around like a champ. Despite the bright toys literally EVERYWHERE (pearl harbour in toy version rather than deadly, fiery explosions) in sight, he chooses to wriggle his plump bum right over to the DVD player to chew on all the electrical cables. How do they know?? Seriously, how? Babies baffle me.
Isn't he just edible? Despite his dashing good looks as a big boy, I'm actually in mourning for his babyhood at the moment. It's like some sneaky bastard has snatched my baby right out of my mits and replaced him with a 10kg tank who slaps, rips, pulls, and bites. Pretty soon he'll be a walking, talking tank too and then I'll really be in for some fun. There is no such thing as cuddling, cooing, co-sleeping or cooperating anymore, and I miss it. The fact that Oli and I have firmly decided two babies is us done & dusted, may be a contributing factor to my grief. No more pregnancies, no more births, no more babies. It is a hard pill to swallow, but we also know adding another child to the mix would be harder. When I see mothers with more than two children out and about, and they're sweating, and they're shouting, and they're miserable, I just think, god no. NO. Mostly, we just cannot imagine starting again from scratch. Children are wonderful, truly, they are. They're also demanding prison guards who keep you locked up at home for the next 10 years. And it may sound selfish (it probably is, meh) but we want some freedom. At some point, we want to go on holidays and leave the kids with the grandies, we want to have a bit of our own life back while we are still relatively young. That is unless we get locked up in an asylum first... In all seriousness, we've got our perfect pair, and they're pretty rad, we figure we will quit while we are ahead..
Meanwhile,
This sassy, sunsmart señorita is struggling with this potty training business (more to the point, I am struggling). Unless I put her on the potty, and put Toy Story on, she just won't go on there. And even then, she only does a splash of wee but mostly holds it in to release into her nappy (which fills like a water balloon in record time), as soon as I put one back on. On the glass is half full side, she has great control!
She knows what it is I want her to do, she just won't do it. Welcome to toddlerhood. A gun mum that I know just suggested trying bribery with chocolate, how I had not thought of that before is beyond me, so that is my next move. And if chocolate doesn't work, then I'm throwing in the wipes and resigning myself to changing a 15 year old girls nappies.
Now for this summer salad;
This gem is so bloody easy to prepare, and so good as a side, or even as a main if you wanted to throw some chicken on there..
All it is, is; rocket, tomatoes, cucumber, Danish feta, blanched beans, and balsamic glaze (it has to be the glaze stuff as normal balsamic is too watery). Such an easy, tasty dish to add to any meal, (add pine nuts too for extra texture)
And in other news, somehow, there's only 7 sleeps until Santa squeezes through the sliding door!
(As you can see, there's potty training going on in the background)
Our tree this year is bursting with gifts galore. Next to none have been put there by Oli or I, and next to none are actually for Oli or I, but our lovely families sure do spoil these kids. Blakes going to have an absolute field day ripping through these "pwismas pwesents" next week! We have our great pal Stirling joining us for the festive season this year too, and my brother and his gf Nicky will be popping in. On the agenda is a champagne breaky, a trip to the beach, ham, rum balls, and more ham. And maybe some sit ups to even it all up. (When I say maybe I mean not a chance)
Speaking of sit ups, here's a mini 9 month postpartum update;
I think I'm growing little tiny baby abs! The obliques are definitely showing their shape anyway, lower abs post two kids is proving to be much harder to tackle.
For the first time in my entire life, I actually feel comfortable in a bikini. And it is the best feeling. I'm still doing the same old exercises, just a lot more running on the treadmill, and I feel as fit as a fiddle! The next couple of weeks however will be spent slothing, and my only exercise will be pacing the kitchen preparing food. Alas, post NY we will only be 5 months out from D Day so shit is going to get very real. The realest.
So much to look forward to! 2015 would you just hurry your ass up already? Some of us wanna get hitched!
Hope you're all winding down now, prepping those bellies for a week of indulgence. Let the eating & drinking begin!!
(Wow, that was some seriously sporadic writing, jumping to different topics left right & centre. Sorry about that folks, there's too much going on upstairs & not enough thumb stamina to type it all out appropriately)
Au Revoir!
Gemma
Thought of the day "I am so fucking sick of hashtags, what is the point? Just say what you think? #rantover #spacesmakereadingmoreenjoyableanyway"
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