No dummy.

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So it happened. Yesterday morning. He coughed and it fell in the toilet. And that was that.

Yep. After months of wondering when the right time would be to tackle the Little Mister’s giving up of the dummy/pacifier/binky/soother (whatever you know it as), fate sorted it out for me quick smart.

The Little Mister is 3 years and 4 months old(ish). He has had a dummy for sleep time for most of his life. Until he got all of his teeth (May last year), he had one whenever he really needed one because it helped soothe his gums somehow. He hasn’t regularly had a dummy when we’re out and about since he was maybe just turned 2, I think (he had a setback when we travelled overseas and he felt a bit out of his comfort zone mid 2014).

I remember worrying so much when a nosy, opinionated check out operator judged me for giving him one. The poor kid was only 18 months old or so. Now I look back and realise I shouldn’t have given a rats what she thought. So he looked older than he was. Big deal. I knew the truth and I knew what he needed. I cringe when I think of myself feeling so damn self conscious overseas. My poor kid looked almost 4 years old, but he was 2 and a half. None of the kids in Korea his age had them. Truth is, he didn’t normally have one in public at home anymore either. But he was insecure and anxious without it – the dummy gave him security, soothed him and helped him to handle our crazy trip so well. I should have just been proud of him. Realised that it was an issue for later, back on home soil.

I feel embarrassed that I cared so much what others (strangers might I add) thought. I don’t know why, but people have a real bee in their bonnets about dummies. Seriously? For the Little Mister it was just as effective as a teething toy. It was his teething toy. It worked so much better than any Sophie the Giraffe or whatever other trendy things are on the market (and might be working really well for a lot of other children). He didn’t want the frozen teething rings, the special chewable toys. That worked for him. What’s the difference? Why is it OK for kids to chew on frozen finger foods and teething rings, but not to have a dummy in their gobs? It’s the weirdest double standard.

When he started to talk, I would tell him I couldn’t understand him if he had his dummy in his mouth. We started gently to tell him that dummies are for babies (which has backfired occasionally in public when he’s felt the need to tell other toddlers – just for the record I know he’s been such a hypocrite and I am not judging anyone – especially after our own experiences haha). We created a routine where he wouldn’t get breakfast or any snacks until he’d given up his dummy for the day (he is highly motivated by food haha). Baby steps.

When he started day care earlier this year, I sent him without his security items. He only goes once a week so a skipped nap isn’t an issue. I just wanted him to not get used to it there. He knows going to “school” (as he calls it) is a big kid thing to do, so I started him the way we plan to continue. I figured that if he absolutely freaked about not having those things, the staff could call me or I could revise my plan later. Turns out, he’s been just fine (although he doesn’t sleep he has quiet time). Yes.

Over the last couple of years, I flirted with the idea of going cold turkey. Of wondering when it was time to force the issue. But my gut just said it wasn’t time yet. He wasn’t ready. It’s kind of like toilet training has been for us. I was waiting for the signs that he was ready.

I have so rarely seen primary school aged children using dummies and other than in documentaries about strange and unusual addictions, I have never seen an adult who couldn’t kick the habit! Which gives great hope, doesn’t it?

So, back to yesterday…

I got him out of bed and guided him to the toilet. He had handed me his little security blankie (which I will let him have forever because CUTE) and he stood at the ready for his morning wees.

*cough*

*plop*

Uh oh…

Let’s just say that dummy was never going near my child’s mouth again!! EW.

It was also his last one. A long while ago, I had decided that I would not be purchasing any more. Once he ran out and had broken or lost all of them, that would be it. I never predicted it would all end when he’d drop one in the loo!

So. I had a choice. Run out and buy a new one before nap time or see how he reacted when I rinsed it and put it in the bin in front of him. I chose the latter. He was a little bit sad…until breakfast time. He is at that stage where he understands that if you have no more of something, that’s it. When we’ve run out of his favourite snack, he can’t have it that day. When he wants something, if we do not have it or cannot find it, he understands. So I figured we had that on our side, at least.

He did suggest to me that we buy some more, but I told him that if we did that, then there would be none left at the shops for all of the babies who needed them (we don’t have a younger sibling for him to blame the milestone on haha).

That morning I found the Sesame Street episode called ‘Goodbye Pacifier’ on YouTube. I showed it to him and explained that Elmo called his dummy a ‘binky’ (an American slang term – wish there was an Aussie equivalent for kids to watch – if there is then let me know!) and that even his hero Elmo (who also taught him about toilet training haha) has given up his dummy and said goodbye to it. He liked the song, ‘Bye Bye Binky‘ (also on YouTube).

I felt cautiously optimistic. I was flying by the seat of my pants. Awesomely unprepared if you will! I had always envisioned myself spending weeks preparing him for this moment. Research, a big picture plan all laid out by me. As if! I should have known he’d get a cold, then cough it into the toilet when I was least expecting haha.

Nap time arrived and I was nervous but played it totally cool. I put him to bed and he was sad, but accepting. He cried with heartbreaking little whimpers, but he knew it was time. He knew I believed in him and I told him that it was OK to cry and be a little bit sad (gotta validate those feelings – it’s a big deal), but I knew he was ready because he was such a big boy. I told him I’d be back later and I left the room. I then had to sit on my hands as I watched him on the baby monitor. He whimpered but he never needed me – so brave.

He didn’t sleep (I really didn’t expect him to) but he played in his bed and sang ‘Bye bye binky’ to himself – oh the cuteness!

I’d put a call out to Mr Unprepared to bring something home as a reward. He headed to the shops where he’d found a Thomas the Tank Engine collectible set. The little trains cost $2 each and there was a special display/carrying case for them. Perfect. He could keep it in his room as a visual reminder of what he was achieving. Much like when I gave up mine as a toddler, in order to get myself some really cool glow worms (remember them?!).

Last night I was nervous. He got to bed and a couple of times he told me he wanted his dummy back. I gently reminded him that his dummy was yucky and had to go in the bin. I read him a couple of stories and then told him that if he was a really good boy and was able to be quiet and go to sleep, he’d get a new little train in the morning. HE DIDN’T CRY. NOT EVEN A WHIMPER. I was so impressed. He was a bit tired (from skipping his nap earlier on) and fell asleep in record time. No dummy! I thought, no doubt he’ll wake in the middle of the night, reach for it and be too disorientated to think rationally. I pictured him screaming for it and me stuck in the doorway of his room shooshing him in a soothing tone for hours.

But…he slept right through – no worries!! I thought, maybe when he wakes for the morning just before 7am, he’ll yell out for it. NOPE. He just waited for me to get him like usual. I THINK I’LL KEEP HIM.

It seemed too good to be true (and might still be – understandably – he’s kicking a lifelong habit haha), but then he napped today. No tears. No begging. He did absent mindedly look for it for a second when I came to get him up, but all was good. My Little Mister gets it and I am so glad he was ready.

So much of parenting is about following your gut feeling. Don’t let anyone bully you or shame you for your decisions when it comes to petty things like dummies. Do what is best for your child and they’ll show you when they’re ready for something. Also, no amount of planning can guarantee something will go smoothly. There is nothing wrong with trial and error. Nothing wrong with changing your mind in order to protect the process and nurture your child.

I’ve at least learnt that much in 3 years :)

What are your thoughts? How have you done it? Do you feel the pressure from others? Or simply wish me luck for tonight!!! x

Why did the chicken cross the road?

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Yesterday I decided it was time to teach the Little Mister how to tell a joke. Comedy for 3 year olds 101. I thought I’d start with an old staple. Something really simple. Sure, it’s not really all that funny now (probably was the first time the inventor of the joke told it but I’d say it’s gotten a little bit old over the decades).

It was:

Q. Why did the chicken cross the road?

A. To get to the other side. 

Something to get the Little Mister started on his long road to stardom as a struggling stand up comedian (maybe I’ll regret that haha). He’d been talking about jokes and loves when he realises I’ve said something funny. He’ll look at me and the corners of his mouth will turn up and he’ll say, “You said a joke, Mummy?”

Then when I confirm that I have indeed tried to be a bit funny, he’ll laugh as if I’m the funniest person alive which is good for my ego. Sure, I had to confirm that it was a joke in the first place, but that’s a minor detail.

*ahem*

So I taught him the chicken joke. He was doing a great job of telling it. I hammed it up laughing when he told the punchline correctly. He looked so pleased with himself.

A few hours later, I decided to test his memory and asked him to “tell me a joke!”

The Little Mister replied with, “ROAD CHICKEN!!!!!”

He then laughed raucously.

Um, sure…

Another time it went like this…

Kez: Tell me a joke!

Little Mister: Why did the chicken cross the road?

Kez: Why did the chicken cross the road, Little Mister?

Little Mister: *shrugs and looks confused* I don’t know.


At bath time, Mr Unprepared tried his luck.

Mr Unprepared: Can you tell me the chicken joke?

Little Mister: OK. Why did the chicken cross our road?

Mr Unprepared: Hmm. Why did the chicken cross the road?

Little Mister: OUR road. OUR road. Why did the chicken cross OUR road?

Mr Unprepared: Oh. Sorry! Why did the chicken cross OUR road?

Little Mister: *sounding confused* This one’s tricky.

Points for improvisation? Kind of?

I am not so excited for the knock knock jokes that will inevitably come, but I am looking forward to telling (and teaching) my old favourites.

Q. What do you call a penguin in the desert?

A. Lost.

Q. What do you call cheese that isn’t yours?

A. Nacho cheese.

Q. What do you call a cow with no legs?

A. Ground beef.

You’re totally judging me right now, aren’t you? Look, I know they’re bad. But they’re simple and my brain remembers them and can tell them without wrecking the punchline (something I am awesome at). I’m just a dad in a mum’s body. I can’t help it. I was taught joke telling by the worst best. My dad. You have no idea how egg-cited I am for Easter. All the yokes I’ll be able to tell then! I’d tell you some now, but I wouldn’t want to whisk you stealing them. Yeah, I’m a riot. Available for parties and corporate functions.*

Anyway, over to you. What are your favourite dorky jokes? Make me laugh! 

*not really available for parties and corporate functions.

Surprise! It’s Autumn!

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I know, right? How did that happen?? It was summer a second ago! Has it really been that long already? Where does time go? I’m not done frolicking at the beach. COME BACK, SUMMER.

This happens to me every year. It’s not that I don’t love autumn. I just wish it wouldn’t sneak up on me all the time. I guess that’s how famous people probably feel about Ellen Degeneres. If you do not understand this reference, shame on you…for probably having a life…that doesn’t involve a love affair with a DVR…and Ellen.

NO. I AM NOT HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH ELLEN. SPEAK TO MY PUBLICIST.

I don’t have a publicist.

Um…where was I?

Yes. Autumn. I love Autumn. My birthday is in Autumn. Easter is in Autumn. Some of my fondest memories come with the sounds, smells and weather of Autumn embedded in them.

My problem is that I am just never ready for it. Ever. You’d think I’d learn, right? Nope. Slow learner right here.

My biggest downfall is my inability to plan my autumn/winter wardrobe. See, the clothes appear in the shops at the hottest time of the year (which is coincidentally usually right before Autumn begins). So I look at that stuff and say, “Pffft. As if I can think of leggings and jackets and scarves right now. You’ve got to be joking!”

The weather in my corner of the world isn’t quite cold yet, but Autumn is in the air. We’ve had some rain, the days feel more mellow and they are getting shorter. So I’m feeling awkward as f*ck, because soon I am going to be that girl who is so obviously wearing her summer clothes for too long, because she doesn’t know what else to do. We’ve all seen that girl before. She’s the same girl who gets too excited for summer and wears shorts too early and everyone is all like, yo, settle down. Y’know? Yep. That’s me.

The only time I feel I nailed Autumn was when I was pregnant with the Little Mister in 2011. Because, hello, when you have a baby bump you can wear anything and no-one thinks you’re fat or falsely accuses you of being pregnant. It’s like the perfect accessory. So fashion tip: be pregnant.

Um…as that is not an option right now, I am SCREWED. I have not done a THING towards preparing a cooler weather wardrobe. NOT A THING. All i have is some worn out tights, some worn out boots and a couple of hoodies – the kind that say you’ve given up on yourself and have nothing else to wear. Oops.

Besides vowing to watch Rosie Rockets’ blog very closely for ideas (no pressure haha), I really haven’t made a plan. All I know is that I’d like to somehow incorporate these things that I thought of in my brain and then found on Pinterest for illustration…

Oversized flannel shirt/dress.

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This is my kinda thing. It’s easy. It can be worn with comfy leggings. It doesn’t involve 50 layers of clothing (layers make this 5 foot tall shortie feel like I’m drowning in fabric). It flatters a few extra curves if you’re carrying them (guilty!). It can be dressed up a little or kept really simple. It’s almost an outfit in itself so there’s no crazy decision making every single morning. Get me one in every kind of plaid! Stat!

Burgundy lips.

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Something about cooler, greyer weather just makes me want to bring out the darker hues. Strong, warm, matte colours. I love lipstick because it’s a quick way to make yourself look (and more importantly feel) polished, like you’ve made an effort. I kind of let my lipstick wearing slip through the summer and I think that I really need to bring it back. When I’ve got my lippie on I feel so much more sexy and confident. I wouldn’t be surprised if I even carry myself a bit differently (disclaimer: still a klutz forever though). Watch out, world!

Dark nails. 

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Gotta match my lips, of course! These hands look a bit over photo shopped, though. Kind of like they’re dead. Let’s ignore that. Gotta love Pinterest haha.

Boots.

I need boots. To be honest, I do not know where to start. I want black ones. But I’m short and I have short legs so I have to wear a lot of the shorter ankle styled ones over dark tights to keep things flattering. And while I like the ones with heels, I also need to be practical and have some flatter ones or wedges maybe. I don’t want old ‘mum’ boots. I want cool boots. Very ‘now’ ones. Maybe something with a bit of an edge. BUT WHAT IS ‘NOW’?! I feel a bit out of touch. How sad! Suggestions? Links? Pics? Maybe I can get some inspiration in Sydney next month…

Told you I’m crap at Autumn/Winter!!

Let’s just fantasise about these impractical beauties for a second, though…that’s just shoe porn right there.

*drools*

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Biker jacket.

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I have had incarnations of this before, but I’ve just never quite nailed it. I am looking for something that I can wear, but that doesn’t wear me! See? This model is wearing the jacket. When I put a jacket of any description on, I feel all bulky and lost in it. Like it never quite sits right. It wears me. I know The One is out there somewhere waiting for me. I must search harder this year!!

Are you ever ready for Autumn? What staples will you be wearing this season?

Oh, rats! Or mice.

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It’s started. I first heard it a few days ago. Scuffling. Scratching. Always in the early hours of the morning. No, I thought. It can’t be. Oh please let it not be. Maybe it’s just a few birds scratching on the tin roof, I reasoned desperately. Maybe it’s the neighbour’s cat on the roof? Oh please just be the neighbour’s cat!

But no…it was coming from inside the roof cavity.

I know this because one morning, the sound was so loud and irritating that I grabbed my diary (the nearest thing), climbed up on my exercise bike (aka expensive clothing hanger) and thudded it against the ceiling. The noise stopped immediately. Cheeky little bugger, I thought to myself.

I know this noise. I know this noise well. But in all the seven years we’ve lived in our current house, I have not heard this sound. Something I’ve been so relieved about. Until now.

This morning I heard the little mofo squeaking. It squeaked. Like I need any more proof.

Whenever I hear this sound, I have flashbacks. To the little buggers finding a way into the interior of my abode. The smell. The crusty little poo pellets that appear everywhere, despite your best efforts to clean them up and block all possible entries. The smell they leave when they die in the roof space. The story my brother tells of accidentally cooking a mouse in the toaster one time…

I think of Bitch-Mouse. My arch nemesis at our last house. Bitch-Mouse. This one brazen mother*cking rodent that teased me and taunted me and made my life hell. It would pop out while I was watching TV and just stare at me, before casually wandering about the house like it owned the joint. Have you ever seen a mouse out on a Sunday stroll? I have. Smug little f*cker. The moment I tried to catch it, *poof* it would disappear like a little tiny magician. I remember finally succumbing to buying a sachet of poison and placing it in our spare room (Bitch-Mouse’s personal play ground). This was BC (Before Child), might I add – not looking to poison anyone any time soon.

One night, Bitch-Mouse crawled dramatically out of the spare room. Bitch-Mouse’s struggle was real. It looked me in the eye, reached out a little accusing paw (do mice have ‘paws’?) and carked it. It was like Bitch-Mouse wanted me to see what I’d done. Like a final, “YOU KILLED ME. HOW COULD YOU.”

I felt 1% guilty. Actually, that 1% faded pretty quickly. I know. I’m a monster.

So, since then I have been excited about the fact that our house seems fairly mouse-proof. I’ve seen poo in the garden shed, but I have never spotted a live mouse in all the time we’ve lived here. I really hope my luck hasn’t run out. I have all these mental images of that mouse up there, just moved in with its little squatter mouse friends. Just making a mess, running amok, keeping terrible hours. Making bad lifestyle choices. Sleeping around with other no good mice who have no self respect. Making little mouse babies they have no intention of looking after properly. Deciding they need to start a life of crime to get by. Breaking into my pantry, eating all the food and nibbling things that shouldn’t be nibbled. Trust me, mouse (Bitch Mouse 2?), you don’t want to do this. Don’t go down that path. I’m warning you. You’ll end up in mouse jail. Or dead. Life isn’t all Disney World and Mickey and Minnie, I tell ya. I’ve met mice like you and we all know where this is going.

…And now I am talking to the invisible mouse that lives in my roof space. That’s normal, right? Can mice read?

So, tell me. What do you know about mice? 

Follow Awesomely Unprepared on Facebook 

Lady cave.

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No, it’s not a euphemism (giggles immaturely). Just like men like to have man caves, I have decided that I need a lady cave. I have a place for it all picked out. Sure, it won’t be perfect, because we have to keep the ironing board and unsorted washing and the bills somewhere, but hey – Mr Unprepared won’t be getting a shed as big as he’d like for the time being so I guess it’s only fair ;)

Yep. I am going to be making over the study. It will be my little sanctuary, where I can blog and look at pretty things and pretend I belong on fancy websites and do very important ‘unspecified as yet’ creative ‘work’. It will be a light, bright space that makes me feel happy and serene and not at all stabby like it does now. It will have to be functional, but almost 31 years into my life I am finally realising that the home office is actually allowed to be ridiculously good looking just like the rest of the house (which admittedly needs a little work too but nothing is as bad as the study is right now haha). I always thought that a study needed to  be the soulless room in the house and have ugly, horrendously designed generic furniture. Bulky stuff. Fugly – to keep all the fugly paperwork in. That it’s just a place to be practical. The one room that doesn’t need any prettying up. Because it’s supposed to be all utilitarian. Like an actual office. Think of the ugliest accountant’s office you’ve ever been in. Like that. I don’t know why. Now that I think about it, WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME? Why was I punishing myself?? WHO AM I??

But then Pinterest was invented. And I started reading some great blogs, with pretty pictures from people’s lives. Now I have myself believing that there’s no reason I can’t enjoy that space and feel productive in it at the same time. I want to make it inviting and peaceful. So beautiful that no-one would ever dare to chuck old paid bills and clutter all over the place out of fear of ruining the wonderful vibe of it all (Ha ha ha – shut up).

Here’s what I’ve been drooling over…

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All I want is a little white desk. I don’t need heaps of work space! Some space for my laptop and some artistically arranged stationery. Nothing crazy. Just something to replace the massive, inflexible corner desk that takes up so much more room than is needed! The space would look instantly bigger.

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Floating shelves. White of course. Storage is definitely a challenge in our study, so we can’t just ditch all the shelf space. However, I would happily ditch all of the bulky book cases that are lined up against one wall. Floating shelves would again offer the illusion of more space, but would happily accommodate our important books and photo albums. I think it would also force me to really think about what I really need vs what I keep thinking I might need one day (notebook hoarder over here – HOLLA!).

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I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t want some inspirational wall prints. A pop of colour. Sure, I’d have to get creative in how to display my degree, the wedding certificate and Mr Unprepared’s trade certificates, but where there’s a will, there’s a way, right?

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And isn’t this desk chair divine? I want colour! And shape! Style. Comfort. I love that it’s not huge and foreboding like the big chair we have in there now. The one that looks like an evil movie villain will spin around in it at any moment, stroking a white, fluffy cat. The chair we have kind of dominates the room – drives me crazy. We bought it originally because it had a lot of back support and felt it was important because I would be studying for so long at a time in it. We figured, the higher the better. Except I am only five foot tall when I’m standing. Hilarious. I question my old decisions more and more!

Of course I’d need a simple filing cabinet and maybe a drawer or two near the desk for extra stationery, but I think it’s all quite doable.

I also dream of a gorgeous desk top computer – Apple of course (gotta add to my collection of matching devices) – but maybe that can wait a little while. In fact, all of it must wait a little while. But I can get started clearing the junk (it’s like an episode of Hoarders in there – you won’t believe that I found two CAR WING MIRRORS in there for WHO KNOWS WHAT KIND OF CAR… AND MORE – WTF Mr Unprepared?!), one piece of ugly office furniture at a time. It will be my ongoing project. Also, if anyone wants cables for anything. Anything that is not manufactured anymore or compatible with anything made this century, just give me a yell.

YAY FOR NO MORE UGLY HOME OFFICES…EVENTUALLY! :)

What would your lady (or your lady’s) cave be/look like? x

When the universe laughs at your plans.

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I was on a high today. Everything felt smooth and easy. My internet was still here when I woke up in the morning. I slept through Mr Unprepared leaving for work really early (usually a difficult thing for me). The Little Mister was being positively angelic (despite weirdly not going to sleep until 10pm the night before). We had plenty of time to play and be together. We sat outside and the sun was shining. A nice little trip to the new corner store first thing. I got some baking done – healthy stuff you can be smug about. I had the slow cooker going and dinner was going to be right on time, instead of some horrific rushed thing during witching hour. I even enjoyed playing around with my blog a little. I felt like I was making up for the past week, where I’d felt distracted and rushed and stressed and guilty for not being able to be as present with the Little Mister as I’d have liked.

Let’s face it. I was feeling like I was nailing life.

So when Mr Unprepared called to tell me his bike had a flat tyre, I wasn’t fussed. I’d have just enough time to drive down the road and get him – save him an extra half hour of walking along the road with his bike. Why not. It would be a little adventure for the Little Mister and we’d be back in time for our slow cooked meal. I’d feel like the best wife ever. Still nailing it. Go Kez.

That was until I drove past the point where I thought I’d see my husband waiting for me and he wasn’t there. So I went a bit further. Might as well save him a little more walking distance. If I didn’t see him then, it would be easy and quick to double back again. Do a quick u-turn and all would be well.

So…I went to do that u-turn down a little residential street.

BANG. WTF WAS THAT???

My car was not coping. I pulled up quickly and got out of the car with a sinking feeling. I knew I’d done something. And there it was. A flat tyre. I’d done a good job of it too. Turned out that as I was turning, that simple little kerb I thought I was gently nudging over was not so simple. There was a big concrete guard for a drain. A sharp, evil looking thing. I hadn’t seen it. It was in just the wrong spot. I thought about how much tyres cost and I wanted to roll my eyes so hard. Bloody hell.

I called Mr Unprepared and broke the news to him. He’d have to walk his bike (with the annoying flat tyre) back to where I was. The rescuee would have to become the rescuer! I had a pretty well equipped car with a brand new spare tyre and a jack in the back. I just needed a hand.

My mind flashed back to leaving the house with the Little Mister. I had said, “Don’t worry about shoes – we will just be making a quick trip to get Daddy. We won’t even be getting out of the car.” I never say that. I always get the shoes anyway, because my mind says, “What if…”

Not today! HA HA HA.

At this point, I realised I had two choices. I could be mad that a stressful few weeks wasn’t letting up and indulge in the drama, or I could laugh my arse off. I mean, what are the odds? My husband calls me about a flat tyre on his bike and I get a flat tyre trying to rescue him. I mean, come on! It was kind of hilarious how ridiculous it was.

All was well in the end. My parents did need to come out (they live close) because the tools that came with the car’s emergency kit were quite crap and the wheel nuts were on super tight, but Mr Unprepared was able to change the tyre fairly easily and get us home eventually. My slow cooking meal was not wrecked (despite my belief that surely it would be). We had a pleasant evening. Everyone was OK, despite it all.

Tomorrow I will have to call the tyre place and it’s going to sting having to replace the two front tyres (especially when one of them is still just fine), but thankfully it’s a day when the Little Mister is in childcare. Sure, I’m supposed to start work for my parents, but at least they are very understanding. I’m sure I can work the afternoon instead or something. Everyone will pitch in where possible to somehow make it all work. I’d say having support like that is a win.

I can’t help but find my sense of humour. The universe will always laugh at our best laid plans. May as laugh with it!! We joked that I was so excited to have the internet back that I needed to do something drastic, so I’d have something new to blog about. I can’t help but see these kinds of mishaps as blogging material! There’s a positive!

I also can’t help but feel that we still had a really good day. Because we laughed about it and looked after each other. And because shit happens, but it’s all about how we react to it. Today I chose happiness. We did good. I’m grateful.

As a friend said on twitter, we aren’t called the Unprepareds for nothing! x

Blog life interrupted.

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My internet is down. Kaput. My internet service providers are not very helpful (understatement of the year – you can find my occasional whining on Twitter and Facebook). It’s been a week now and I am realising just how much I rely on the internet. I blog, I have social media, my go-to stuff for life (recipes/life hacks) are on Pinterest. I stream my music through my devices, rather than storing it and taking up too much memory. I catch up on TV show episodes via streaming. Everyone wants an email address as a primary mode of contact. I shop online. My personal, private journal with all of my thoughts and feelings (that keeps me sane) is stored online. When did my life become so internet-centric?

I am using my phone data like there’s no tomorrow. It’s getting desperate. I’ve escaped to my parents’ house this morning (where there is wifi and cups of tea), because I am going crazy waiting for a mythical technician to contact me (a guy I am not allowed to contact myself because he’s probably in witness protection or something). For crying out loud, I just want a new modem (which of course is so special and is made out of unicorn horns and the wings of fairies so no-one sells it retail around here).

I have started to read books. Like actual, physical books with real paper pages. I’ve started to sleep more. In fact, the sleep has become ridiculous. Like my body is trying to catch up on all the sleep I missed since the internet was invented. I am not so happy with this enforced detox as I maybe could be. No internet on camping trips? Awesome. Best way to unwind. Unreliable wifi on overseas holidays? No biggie! At home? OH GOD NO. Can I scream I’M A BLOGGER GET ME OUT OF HERE?

I miss my blog. I miss my favourite bloggers. I am dying to read the amazing things you’ve been writing. I see your links on Facebook but I can’t click many times, because my phone data bill would be unthinkable. This makes me very sad. I promise that the moment I am back online, I will binge on all of your work and catch up on your lives. I miss the inspiration you all have to offer. I miss interacting with my gorgeous readers daily.

So never fear if you do not hear from me much in the next little while. I am here. Trying to survive with this terrible first world problem. Because I do actually know how lucky I am. Kind of ;)

Now go and read about people with real problems (you know – bigger stuff than whining about not having the internet) – do something kind for them – and if you work in customer service of ANY description, make somebody’s day today. Show them that you care. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment and treat them with kindness (provided they are not just a**holes). Do it for me!

xo

Camping 2015: Hot days.

This year we went camping in the first week of February. The best time if you have some leave from work and kids who aren’t school age yet. The massive crowds have gone home to get back to real life after the school holidays and it’s nice and quiet. A lot of retired folk (as evidenced by the sheer amount of older ladies wandering about in their big floral nighties) and young families.

This year was uncharacteristically hot! We weren’t used to this – we’re usually more likely to experience a stiff, cool breeze and a bit of rain. A couple of really bright sunny, calm days if we’re lucky! A majority of the time we were away, the weather was in the mid 30s (Celsius) at least. It got quite warm in our camper van (canvas topped) and we had to leave all of our windows unzipped so the air could get through. It became clear that we would need a strategy to keep cool through the day, because it was just too hot to sit around our campsite in the hot sun – even if we were outside.

We figured out a system where we spent the mornings in the water.

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We would then come back to the caravan park, have cool showers, and get dressed. We could then get into the air conditioned car and drive somewhere for lunch (preferably somewhere with more of a breeze…and maybe some beer) over the heat of the day.

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By the time we would find our way back to the campsite, the weather would be a bit cooler and we’d sit around eating waaaaay too many nibbles (or dinner if we even had any room left in our stomachs). After that, it’d be bed time for the Little Mister and then we would sit around looking at the stars. My mum has this ridiculous app that tells her when every single satellite is going to go over, so everyone nerded it up until we were too tired or it got too cloudy.

Of course, there was also ice cream…

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The Little Mister loved that part almost as much as he loved the beach, of course! Here he is seated outside the local supermarket, next to the ice we had purchased for our eskies (coolers). I kind of love this photo because it kind of sums up how we were all feeling that day – what a sweaty stinker! I wanted to hug that ice!

Basically, we made the most of the fact that we got more time in the water than we had in previous years and we made the hot weather work for us. It was a really amazing trip. We were so relaxed and everything just went well. It was the break I had been looking forward to for weeks (maybe even months). Next year we will have to join the throngs before school goes back (the Little Mister will begin 4 year old kindy – eek), so I am sure it will be a whole new experience to blog about for 2016!

What’s your favourite way to stay cool on a hot day?

Leaving him at day care and finding myself.

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Oh hey, here I am trying to pretend that taking selfies comes naturally…oh the awkwardness!

 

This week marked the Little Mister’s second time at day care.The first time (last week) I put him in for just a half day to ease him in gently. He was so excited when we got there. He wanted to run off and play and he remembered it from the time we’d come to suss it out and sign him up (he’d been allowed to mingle while I talked to the staff and filled out paperwork). He was asking the carers (he calls them his teachers) if he could go play in the cars outside and I had to get him to focus so I could show him where to hang his little backpack and how to put his fruit, for sharing, in the basket. I was so nervous, but relieved he was happy. I knew that saying goodbye would be a little hard for me, but it was great seeing that it wasn’t difficult for him. I gave him a really quick hug and kiss (like they advise), then it felt really odd to walk out of the gate without him! He was taken to the little window that faces the car park and he waved goodbye to me. He said, “Bye bye Mummy!” and he looked so little and cute. As he climbed down from the step at the window, with the help of his favourite staff member (he told me she’s his favourite yesterday haha), I heard him proudly say to her, “That’s my mummy!”

Then I sat in my car for about 30 seconds and I wanted to cry!! Not so much because I was leaving him in someone else’s care. Not so much because I’d miss him (I have had time without him before). Just the sentimentality of him growing up and reaching this big milestone. It almost got to me, man!

I took a breath, started the car and drove home. Five minutes later, I was wandering around my house in a daze. I had spent the previous couple of weeks fantasising about all the things I’d do at home alone once he was in day care (housework and blogging and bad TV watching and home admin and baking and maybe a nap – yeah right – like I had that much time haha). I had decided that his first (half) day would be a quiet day. I’d take it easy. Celebrate getting him to this point in his little life. But there I was. Wandering around feeling a little giddy, but mostly confused. My house was no different to when he’s there, but it felt different and it threw me off! I think it took over half an hour for me to even decide what to do! Apparently my brain doesn’t work when he’s not around? I was overwhelmed with the freedom!

I vacuumed under the couch and felt so excited and smug (but traumatised – OMG). I baked. I sat on the couch and had a bite of lunch, while surfing the internet and watching my DVR. Soon enough, my time was up. I felt excited to pick him up, but secretly wished I could have had a bit longer on my own.

When I picked him up, he was still running around trying to play! It took a while to get him out of there! I saw this as a sign that he’d be ready for a full day the next week and we left. He had a massive sleep after we got home and the next morning he wanted to sleep in FOREVER!

He talked about ‘school’ on and off all week and it made me happy that it makes him happy. He did get a cold he’d picked up from there, but it wasn’t too bad and he recovered in time for round 2!

I was nervous for this week’s full day. I noticed a few positive changes in him this time. He was more focused when we walked in the door. He helped to put his bag on the hook, took his banana to the fruit basket and gave his lunchbox to a staff member to put in the fridge. He was a bit too excited to say hello to them properly and I had to remind him to say goodbye to me, but we can work on that! He waved at the window again and I felt good about leaving him. Knowing he’s happy there really brings me great relief. I have been warned that a few sessions in, kids who started off happy to be left at day care, can suddenly realise what that means and can start to fret and cry, so it will probably take a few more weeks before I feel complete ease!

I had originally planned on running some pesky errands that have been haunting me, but circumstances conspired and they suddenly went away (for that day anyway)! I was meeting my mum at 10:30am to buy my Gran a birthday present and the rest of the day was mine! I headed to Target (not sponsored but wish I was) and wandered around in the same daze I’d been in the previous week at home. It is so ODD. I am used to having to be on a MISSION. An efficient, well organised mission. I must have done about 3 laps of the store before I managed to get my brain working again. I felt so self conscious being on my own! More than when I have a chatterbox toddler in a trolley, pointing out anything and everything he sees at the top of his voice. Go figure!

I spent a whole $29 on two skirts and a top for myself (bargain!). It was pretty awesome trying on clothes alone, I must say.

Long story short, I realised that it was quickly becoming a day of self care. I’d had an emotionally stressful week and I needed to look after myself. I was feeling fragile and drained. I booked a last minute hair appointment and I bought myself a gorgeous blue necklace, enjoyed an uninterrupted chat with my mum and slowly became more comfortable with the wandering alone in the shops thing.

I realised that in recent weeks at home (camping trip notwithstanding – that was awesome) I had kind of lost myself. I’d stopped styling my hair, putting on some pretty make up (a simple little pleasure for me), or doing my nails. I wasn’t even trying to dress nicely. Just chucking on the nearest thing that didn’t smell (yeah I’m a delight). I’d lost inspiration and I felt crappy.

So, this day became ‘the day Kez found herself again’. It was so needed.

My hair appointment ran late, so my mum collected the Little Mister from day care. I felt a tiny bit guilty that it wasn’t me, two sessions in, but I knew he’d love the surprise and he’d be really comfortable with it (what matters most). When I called the day care to let them know, they told me he’d had a great day and had even had some rest time (something he’d struggled to do the week before). Yay! He was stoked to see his nanna and when I picked him up from her house, he didn’t want to stop partying haha.

Sure, I’ll be back to spending my day care days running errands and doing housework soon enough (until I start doing a little casual work here and there that is), but I remembered how to care for myself too this week and I am so glad.

Welcome back, me.