Tag Archives: shopping

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Oh, that’s funny. I don’t remember asking for your advice.

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The other day was fun. I ventured out of the house with my Little Mister (17 months) for the first time in three days. We were headed somewhere reeeeallly exciting.

Kidding.

We went to the supermarket where I feel like the very least they could do is add my name to the lease, because I friggin’ live there.

The Little Mister was really excited to get back out into the world again, after our huge trip to visit relatives across the country. Everything was so thrilling. He was pointing left, right and centre at every item down every aisle until I would tell him what they were. He was chatting and giving me the kind of cuddles that make you feel simultaneously like you’re going to burst from all the love, but your back is starting to hurt as you huddle over the front of the trolley.

Who doesn’t love a happy toddler in a supermarket? Seriously. Who?

About halfway round, he started showing the signs that he wanted to find the goodies in my handbag. He was getting quite persistent, pointing and grabbing at it, his face all earnest and determined.

I knew I had three choices (based on the environment and the contents of my bag).

1. Don’t give him anything, letting him whinge and cry all he likes. Great for discipline in most places…except a supermarket with a trolley half filled with groceries.

2. Give him snacks to keep him busy and quiet.

3. Hand him his dummy.

I chose option number three. I had my reasons. All of which were valid and seemed suitable in the context of the Little Mister’s particular situation at the time (I’m deliberately choosing not to explain myself in great detail here because the point of this post is to express that we don’t owe anyone and everyone explanations for our parenting choices just because they’re choosing to judge).

The Little Mister allowed me to finish my grocery shopping (quite a large haul to replenish stocks since we got home from our trip) and we were having a really lovely time together.

I chose the closest check out, which happened to be attended by a lady who has always given friendly service and says a smiley hello to the Little Mister. I thought today would be no different, but no. She spied that dummy and she had an agenda.

We’d hardly exchanged the polite, “Hello, how are you today”s, when she launched into it.

“Ooooh,” she said in an ominous tone, “You can have real problems with those [dummies]. You’ll have to hide them away and throw them out. They get addicted.”

I shrugged it off, thinking that she was simply trying to commiserate and that she meant well (she has young children).

She continued to look at the Little Mister’s dummy with a shaking head and look of disapproval.

I politely (because I’m so people pleasing like that) said, “He’s pretty good. He just needs it in the supermarket haha.”

Awkward, nervous mummy jokes are my thing. Noted by the strained, “Haha?” at the end.

“They like it when they’re teething,” she continued, “but you should give him rusks instead.”

She scanned my items while not breaking eye contact with the dummy – not even for a second.

“Tut tut tut”.

Seriously. She tut tut tutted.

By now I wasn’t being very warm and friendly anymore. I wasn’t being rude, but I wasn’t being very receptive.

It wasn’t so much what she said that made me feel annoyed, so much as who she was, what her relationship with us was (ie there isn’t one) and the way in which she stared my son’s dummy down and looked at me like I was a hapless idiot who was clearly making a big mistake and one day that mistake would bite me in the bum.

Here’s the thing, dudes. Body language totally makes a difference. It says so much more than words can.

I did not take so well to being judged by a near stranger and given advice that I knew would not be helpful (in context because he’s MY kid and I live with him/know him/care for him). When I didn’t appear to want her advice, she got a bit cold. Well, screw her. She could have her opinion. We all have opinions. It’s just about knowing/deciding whether it’s appropriate to air them or not. Having an opinion doesn’t mean we’re all experts or that we know all of someone’s story. It doesn’t mean that the recipient has to take on our unsolicited advice (or else it’s a disapproving look for you, love). I just wanted to finish buying my exorbitantly priced groceries and get the hell home for the Little Mister’s nap!

I handed her my shopper rewards card and she said, “Oh? You have a card?” with a surprised tone that almost bordered on sarcasm.

Yes, lady. I have a card. I don’t always have it with me, because I share it with my husband. You really need to stop paying so much attention to me each week. I want impersonal, clinical service (perhaps with just a hint of a warmish smile), please, but I’m not telling you how to do it!! I don’t know your life!!

On the way home (all of a five minute drive) I was fuming. Apart from the over the top “THIS IS GOING ON MY BLOG – SHE WILL RUE THE DAY SHE MET ME!” thoughts, I realised that this lady who is normally very kind and keeps things friendly might have her own sh*t going on in her life. Perhaps she was projecting her own parenting frustrations and perceived failings onto me. I was a soft target. There is no excuse for it, but I do realise that the Little Mister looks at least six months older than he is. At this stage in his life (almost a year and a half old) there seems to be a huge difference between 18 months and 2 years of age in development (based on my observations of the children I know). The poor kid gets judged based on a 2 year old (or older)’s abilities/developmental stages. So unfair. I feel that it’s something I’m going to face more and more with my little man’s height, full head of hair (and I mean FULL) and bright, inquisitive, conversational eyes. He’s fine without a dummy for 90% of the day and we have so many positive little developments, milestones and things we’ve done well in the day that cannot be noticed by a judgemental check out lady while she scans our food items (no matter how much she stares).

The transaction was finalised and the check out attendant said, “Bye. Have a nice day.”

Like the life had been drained from her soul.

I think she knew she had lost me during that exchange and I almost felt sorry for her.

I’m not fuming anymore. I’m just sitting here, eyebrows raised, thinking about how funny it is that we feel entitled to tell others what we think of their situation (even if we don’t know the half of it). Who do we think we are? No-one asked us!

Have you ever received judgement and unsolicited advice from a stranger? How did it make you feel? Please share.

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But(t) it was an accident!

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I went shopping for shoes yesterday. Exciting, right? Usually when I go looking for shoes to fit my size 5, broad, flat as a pancake feet (I seriously have no instep), the experience doesn’t go as smoothly as hoped.

“Oh, we don’t stock your size. We’ll have to order them in. Do you have a crapload of time to waste, many days from now, to come and try them on? Then buy them out of guilt because we went to so much trouble?”

“Sorry, we only have ugly shoes in your size. Would you like to view the senior citizen range or the 12 year old girl variety?”

Yesterday just took the cake. I reached a whole new level of awesomeness.

So, I decided I didn’t have much time on my side. I had a cranky toddler (who had just endured an hour long car ride and plenty of time strapped into a stroller and high chairs) and both my mum (moral support/wonderful helper) and I were exhausted. This was supposed to be the last stop on a crazy little last minute shopping trip, for clothing and supplies for our interstate journey, to say a final farewell to my beloved grandfather.

I was excited to spot a cute pair of black wedges and a bright blue pair of kitten heels (the perfect non-flat flat shoe for a short arse).

My mum took care of the Little Mister while I sat on one of those cushioned, seat thingys that are made just for trying on shoes. You know the ones. I stuck a black, suede wedge on my stumpy little foot and as I went to wiggle my toes around to check the comfort factor, I stacked it. I didn’t just fall over like a normal person. I wasn’t even in a standing position when the … incident… happened. I somehow slid off of the seat, right on over the corner. It was a padded corner – totally foolproof, right? Wrong. I was a disaster waiting to happen. It was the perfect storm. A couple of weeks of grief, tiredness, a packed schedule and a long day in public appearing to be a normal person (you get it – I know you do), and my clumsy body decided it was time to shut this thing down.

A deep, sharp pain shot through my right butt cheek and I was left breathless. The muscles in my behind (the ones you use way more than you realise) hurt so much from me trying to be upright that I had no choice but to lie down. In the middle of the store. On the floor. While my mum wrangled my restless toddler and the shop assistants pretended to look busy.

I couldn’t even get words out and tears welled up in my eyes. My mum was over in a shot – from her tone of voice, I thought she was about ready to call an ambulance! Honestly, it wasn’t necessary. It was just a waaaa-mbulance situation, really. I tried to answer but it took a little while. I managed to get out, “I’m OK. I’m OK. I fell and hurt my butt real bad.”

Which is probably not at all what my mum or the concerned shop assistants were expecting me to say.

I’m nothing if not original and accidentally creative.

In my shock (and determination to buy cute shoes), I managed to finish trying on the shoes. I know. I know. I’m to be admired for such grit. Hold your applause. Please.

I decided the black shoes must be cursed (because I’m so rational right after sustaining a butt injury) and took the blue shoes. They never did anything to hurt me. I love you, blue shoes.

I made small talk at the register. OK, I babbled on about my accident to prove I had a sense of humour and that I wasn’t going to sue them for their pointy seat corners (that weren’t really pointy – I swear I could stab myself with a spoon – I’m that clumsy). It wasn’t until one clothes shop later when I’d tried on a hideous dress (they always look better on the hanger) and decided whether a biker influenced cropped blazer was ‘too much’ or ‘not enough’ that I almost cried trying to pick the Little Mister up off the floor (he was doing that thing where he pretends his legs don’t work in order to get cuddles), before crying for real on my mum’s shoulder (literally – how embarrassment) and said, “I’m ready to call it a day.”

I know. I’m such a trooper. I also rarely get a helper when I need to go clothes shopping. I had to get sh*t done!

During the car ride home, I was starting to feel the bruising. I needed to shift my weight to find comfort, but shifting my weight involved using the bruised muscles. By the time I got home I was a bit of a mess.

My caring (if not perpetually confused) husband went to put an ice pack on my skin and I yelped, “NO! NOT DIRECTLY ON THE SKIN!” but just the movement it took to yelp made me cry. I think ‘bewildered’ was probably his primary emotion at that moment.

I only had ‘tension headache’ tablets at home. So basically, it was like I was treating a tension headache in my butt. Which sums it up, really. If I wasn’t me, I would have had a field day with ridiculous jokes about that.

I’ve learnt that ibuprofen helps, but it takes a long time to kick in and wears off pretty quickly too. Ice helps, but not for long. I have a plane ride to survive in a few days, so I’m busy willing my injury to heal!!

Turns out you need those muscles to sit on the toilet, sit on the couch, get into bed, pick things up off the floor (including a 13 kilo toddler), lift things up high (including a 13 kilo toddler), to get up off of a chair or any seated position, to sneeze, cough, bend, twist. You name it.

I think life is telling me to slow down.

And make really bad butt jokes. I am seriously the butt of my own joke.

What’s the weirdest way you’ve gotten an injury? Seriously, I can’t be alone here, people.

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But I have NOTHING to wear!!!
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But I have NOTHING to wear!!!

Pic: I think the key is to avoid this.

Lately I’ve been feeling a little fashionably challenged. I swear that no matter how many items of clothing sit in the bottom of my wardrobe on the floor, I still only manage to rotate between the same three damn outfits day in, day out! I’m starting to feel a little bit depressed about it! Literally months ago, I decided to start clearing out my wardrobe, with the purpose of only keeping the things I will actually wear (and that will fit me). I am yet to actually finish the mammoth task! Or at least it feels like a mammoth task when you have an 8 month old baby hanging from you constantly! I feel like I’ve been through so many changes in the last year, physically and lifestyle wise, that it’s impossible to maintain my old way of dressing!

Necklines get pulled down until you could be arrested for indecent exposure, shoulders get dribbled on, jeans fall down when you’re constantly bending down to lift a baby or something they’ve dropped on the floor (plumber’s crack anyone?), maxi dresses can be tripped over while carrying a 10kg baby, fancy short skirts are dangerous (and cannot easily be pulled down to a proper length while holding a child, meaning constantly looking uncomfortable).

Maybe I’m just incapable of wearing clothes properly anymore and all the other mummies are doing fine…but I really do have issues. While it is tempting to become one of those bedraggled mothers who wear old men’s tracksuits every day (in private or in public), like the ladies on Oprah who got free makeovers all the time, I am determined to not do that whole “letting myself go” thing.

My wardrobe is filled with I Could Never Leave the House in That items that are strictly for housework or painting in (neither of which I’m very proficient at as of late), party dresses, and clothes that remind me of my pregnancy and threaten to give me nightmare flashbacks when I put them on. I get paranoid that certain items of clothing will make people speculate that I must be pregnant again, when really I’ve just been comfort eating a bit too much…

I really would like to win the lottery and start over again. Nothing feels like it fits in with my life as it is today! I need a fresh start! Or Oprah (she’d bring her show back just for me, right?)! I want to be fashionable, practical and my clothing needs to be classy but casual enough that I can meet a friend for lunch, grovel on the floor at several baby friendly venues (the library, friends’ houses, parks etc) without getting arrested for public indecency or scaring anyone and I want to look like me! I want to not look like a cookie cutter mummy who had to wear everything everyone else has because there was simply no choice available! I don’t want to look like a slob either!

Inspiration?

Pic: Easy, casual, practical and fashionable!

Pic: I would add a scarf to disguise any pulling down of my neckline, but that’s the basic idea!

The key here seems to be simple dresses, scarves, opaque tights or leggings, stretchy blazers, oversized tee shirts and well fitted jeans (unlike the ones I am currently wearing which fall off my hips no matter what I do and I am only wearing them because I have nothing else). I am thinking accessories can mix it up too :)

Besides spending a while googling “celebrities with babies” to see what they’re wearing (I’m totes good at research), I also consulted the most fashionable, hip population of 20 something bloggers on what the “don’ts” of fashion are today (just to make sure I’m on the right track) and here are my top findings:

Leggings are NOT pants (unless you have Barbie doll parts in your knickers which will NEVER ever reveal camel toe from ANY angle on any day in any location guaranteed). Leggings should be worn with tops or dresses that cover both camel toe (comprehensively) and possible cellulite. I agree wholeheartedly.

Crocs worn by adults – don’t. I can’t even.

Pic: No. Just no.

Leggings with shorts are apparently a hot topic of contention. I have always wondered if I could, during my desperate moments, but never went through with it. According to some of my blogging peers I seem to have made the right move?

Ill fitting clothes of any description. Which is why I am so at odds with my wardrobe right now! Basically, what I think everyone is saying is be real. Accept your real clothing size, wear something that flatters and save everyone’s eyeballs.

With all of this in mind, I think I’m gonna be OK. Now all I have to do is find some moolah, some time and some energy! Piece of cake….right?

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Baby shopping. Baby product shopping. Not shopping for actual babies…

Pic: These signs lead to stores full of baby things

Following some recent conversations with friends (both pregnant and yet-to-be), I had memories flood back to me about those first months of (first time) pregnancy where everything was so overwhelming! I remember thinking, wow there’s going to be a real life human baby in my house at some point – what crazy nonsense is this?! I’m going to have to buy it stuff and I don’t even know what all that “stuff” is!!! Oh, God help me!

OMG! ZOMG! OMFG! (yeah that’s right – I can abbreviate with the best of the cool kids)

I remember going “shopping” for the baby (now known as the Little Mister of course) where all I’d do is stare at everything and realise that having so many “options” meant every decision was 15 times harder. I would go home empty handed with loads of information swimming around in my head after I’d drilled the shop staff for all sorts of facts about prams, cots and car seats! I’d then put it all off for another few weeks while I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening (luckily I started my “shopping” expeditions fairly early in the piece – start of second trimester I believe).

If I could say one thing to those who are in that same boat right now, it would be: Don’t panic. It will actually all come together. You’re a smart woman/man and you want what’s best for your baby. It does all start to click eventually :)

It’s so funny how we can conquer so many new skills in life – just see a challenge and go for it. We complete university degrees, buy houses, plan massive holidays in strange places, drive out to old Aunty Whatsit’s place in the middle of nowhere without a decent road map, plan wedding extravaganzas and start small businesses…yet we freak out at the idea of buying a few things for a new baby!

I spent a lot of time asking friends with babies (and my mum) what they found useful in the early days. I asked them what they found irritating and whether I could avoid those irritations/inconveniences myself. I got over my fear of looking stupid in front of baby product shop staff and just asked them whatever I wanted to know. I visited places several times until I could go there without having a mental breakdown and everything started to seem more familiar and not so scary!

While I had a bit of a budget to stick to, I didn’t obsess over getting the very very very best price on everything. If I could save $10 by going to some shop a bajillion miles from home, it wasn’t worth it while I was heavily pregnant and very confused (not to mention you’d spend the $10 “savings” on fuel to get there anyhow). If I found what I liked and it was good value for money, I just went home with it or made a plan to come back for it as soon my funds would let me. Gotta weigh up the stress factor vs everything else. I’d feel great every time I could tick something off the list.

My strategy was also to make sure I had all the “will need it in the hospital or the day we leave hospital” stuff. The stuff you can’t make it without in that first week or so. After that, things can come together at a moment’s notice if need be and the people in your life can be really helpful running about for you (some will even bug you until you let them do something so you may as well let them feel useful) if you have a lovely support network to call on. It helped me focus and not think of forgetting a few little things as the end of the world.

How did I pick the big stuff (you know – the really intimidating stuff)? Mind if I share? (that was rhetorical haha)

Cot
All I wanted was for the cot to be attractive enough to match the Little Mister’s nursery colour scheme (which was simply clean with white and blue). It had to be something that would be good enough quality to last for the use of more than one child. I wanted it to have a bassinet level option (for when the baby is little and not as mobile), for the mattress to be able to drop down later when you need to trap a crawling, toddling maniac child who may be learning to climb, and for it to later convert to a toddler bed. It goes without saying that it had to meet national safety standards. As long as a cot was a reasonable price and had all these features, I was stoked. I’m still very happy with my decision. Seriously, just keep it simple.

Pram/stroller
This one baffled me from day one. I won’t lie. There are so many choices, so many features and so many opinions on the matter you feel like your head will spin off! Not to mention there are so many very very expensive products to stare at in utter disbelief. There are some babies out there just pimpin’ in their tricked out rides. Or whatever the kids are saying these days. Pretty sure I just said something really inappropriate there…moving right along…

My requirements? It had to have a comfy bassinet option for when my Little Mister was very small and spent most of his time sleeping. It had to be good at manouvering in tight spaces. It had to be light enough to lift in and out of the car several times a day. It had to be easy to assemble or fold down because no-one wants to be that person in the carpark taking half an hour just to get their baby out of the car and into the stroller, or out of the stroller and into the car! It had to be good quality so it would last for the use of more than one child, hopefully with the option of being able to even transport two children (a toddler and baby) at once if need be in the future.

Look, I’ll be honest. I also didn’t want it to be butt ugly. You have to wheel that thing about in public all the time, y’all.

Car seat
I wasn’t really too fussed. I didn’t need the top of the range, “only celebrities use it” kind of thing. I didn’t want the cheapest thing either. I wanted a nice, middle of the range product that looked comfortable and of course, safe. As we weren’t going to start with a capsule in our car (they are great for transporting sleeping babies to and from the car but they aren’t great for longevity’s sake – we figured we could hire one if the baby turned up and we wished we had one), we wanted a car seat that could range from birth to a few years old. We got one that went from newborn to 18kg (or roughly an average sized four year old). I figured that if there was a second child entering the equation at some point then we could purchase a car seat that takes a child to 7 years old (the legal age a child has to be in a seat until) and the younger bub could have the smaller one. I have been really happy with the seat we’ve chosen. It’s grown with the Little Mister (or he’s grown with it I should say) very nicely.

Basically, everyone I talked to in the baby product shops was really helpful. There was one lady with a really pretentious name that I cannot remember right now, who bugged the hell out of me at one of my favourite stores, but on the whole these staff members are really used to talking to parents-to-be who have NO IDEA WHAT THEY’RE DOING or WHAT THEY’RE IN FOR! That’s what their business is about, so if they treat you like an idiot…quite plainly, they deserve to lose your business and anyone else’s. You’ve never done this before and should be treated as such (without someone being a condescending a-hole of course). Also, you’re pregnant (or your partner is) and they should know better than to mess with you (or them) haha.

Also, don’t freak out if something doesn’t go too smoothly. I had to wait until I was 8 months pregnant (and very very hugely so) to get my pram delivered to a shop far far away because they’d run out of stock or some crap (my savings did actually make it worth it luckily), and my cot arrived with some damage that I felt could compromise its safety meaning I had to return it and get it replaced. If you let these things wash over you and deal with them calmly (while being sure to assert yourself and get what you deserve), I promise it can actually be fun! :)

Have any other advice to share? If you’re a parent, how did your first shopping ventures go?

I thought about including what my product choices were, but I decided it’s not so important to get a certain brand or model. It’s about making sure the product meets your specific budget and has the features you think are important. Also, I didn’t want to seem like I was paid to do this post (I wish haha). If you really do wish to know, please don’t be afraid to email me. Also, while I’m explaining myself, I’d also like to say that I am only describing my personal experience whenever I do one of these “advice” type posts. I am not saying that what was helpful for me will be helpful for everyone – I’m big on the whole “each to their own” adage and will never claim to be an expert on any topic! Just another first time mum figuring stuff out :)

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Useful Stuff for an Awesomely Unprepared Mother.

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I recently went shopping for a friend’s baby shower gift. While I myself am a fairly green mother (four months in – he’s still alive – yay!), I thought back to when the Little Mister was so brand new and I was so bewildered by all that baby stuff everyone (parents/friends/magazines/books) told me I’d need. I thought to myself, what would my friend need to know/have?

I then had to restrain myself (it didn’t get physical but it was quite the warzone in my brain) from buying the poor mother to-be the entire local baby store (and every baby department in the bigger chain stores). Oh, also I haven’t won the lottery quite yet (I buy a ticket maybe twice a year) so I guess my finances might not have liked the gesture anyhow. I settled on some very cute gender neutral bibs (at 10 weeks a new mother suddenly realises why those bibs she received at her baby shower are necessary – baby becomes a drool factory before attempting messy solids later) and an insulated bottle bag that comes with a special instant heating pad – you just click a thing on the side of it and it gets hot right away without needing to be plugged into anything or requiring batteries! I also checked the side of the box and there are no nasty chemicals involved! Something I wish I had back in the old days…8 weeks or so ago!

I used to dread baby showers like crazy. Of course I felt honoured to be a part of the celebration and I was always so excited that one of my close friends was going to pop out a mini-human of their very own that I could love and dote on. I just felt so damn awkward! I had no idea what to buy them and not a clue how I would feel if they already had one! I felt lost when I’d sit there at what is usually a fairly alcohol free event and people around me would be talking at a million miles an hour about swaddling, clothing sizes (so many zeros!!) and the latest brands and gadgets to help make a parent’s life easier!

This has got me thinking. What are those super useful must-haves that have saved my life time and again in the last four months?

The “Boring Stuff”
Somehow my husband and I accumulated a crapload of samples and gifts that had our baby supplies looking quite healthy! It’s the stuff that everyone thinks of as boring every day baby stuff, only when you’re heavily pregnant and a little overwhelmed it’s less stuff to tick off the list. We’re talking nappy rash creams, wipes, newborn nappies, powder, baby oil, baby lotion, cotton wool balls, tissues and even teething gel (not to be used until required of course). It might not seem that thrilling, but if you put that stuff in a hamper for a first time mother-to-be, she will be thanking you later when she has baby brain and needs something in a hurry that she forgot to grab from the supermarket (it’s not so easy to get out in the early days)! These were the things I just never really got around to buying before the baby came. I had all the big stuff, the fun stuff and the read-it-in-a-trendy-magazine stuff, but the “boring stuff” just fell off the radar (and then the Little Mister made a surprise appearance three weeks early)!

Digital thermometer, room temperature thermometer and bath water thermometer – thermometers everywhere!
Besides being a really strange word to type over and over, thermometers have been my best friends since the early days. As new parents, my husband and I weren’t sure if we could trust our instincts just yet when it came to the temperature of the bath water, the temperature of our bedroom (where the Little Mister is STILL sleeping even though all three of us are totally ready for him to move) and his body temperature.

Knowing the bath wasn’t too hot or cold meant there was one less thing to worry about on our long list of brand new parent worries! It gave us a base to start from and let us feel for ourselves what the correct temperature is. It’s actually warmer than I would have thought it should be at 36 degrees celcius. I probably would have spent the early days chilling him too much and wondering why he was always upset! Little babies hate being naked as it is – it’s not as cosy out in the world as it was in the womb!

A few times in the first six weeks or so, our bedroom would be a bit too hot for the Little Mister’s liking. We wouldn’t know and while he wouldn’t always FEEL warm or sweaty to the touch, having the thermometer for the room confirmed our suspicions and more often than not, an adjusting of the air conditioner settings and his amount of bedding/swaddling would fix everything.

I used to freak out about the Little Mister’s body temperature because knowing that babies can’t really regulate their own temperature just seemed to mess with my mind! A couple of times I was able to reassure myself by using his digital thermometer. It might seem like something you can just buy later, but if I hadn’t had it ready and on hand when I was worried, my stress levels would have gone off the charts! Sometimes when you want to check, it can be the middle of the night or a time when you can’t make it to the pharmacy to purchase one. I use it after his vaccinations (a horrible terrible necessary evil) if he’s not himself, so I can see if he’s got a fever (a common side effect). It also helped because they would take his temperature every day in the hospital (I don’t know if this is normal or because he was recovering from the infection that brought on my labour), which probably got it into my head that temperature is something to worry about!

Books!
I am not a super parenting nerd (believe it or not, despite the fact that my having a blog might lead you towards this conclusion), but sometimes reading a book that is written with new parents in mind, with up to date information (relevant to your country or culture’s practices) can be incredibly reassuring. Sometimes a lot more reassuring than googling your crazy mind to pieces in the middle of the night because you woke up and you just have to or else).

The three absolute bibles I go by are:

Save Our Sleep by Tizzie Hall


Kidwrangling by Kaz Cooke

What to Expect the First Year by Heidi Murkoff and Sharon Mazel

I won’t review each of them for you, because that would bore the pants off you, but I have learnt everything from what’s “normal” for every month of my little man’s life so far, what developmental milestones to expect, how to deal with common worries or problems and (perhaps most importantly) how a baby’s sleep rhythms work. Knowing how the Little Mister’s body works at each stage of his very young life has helped me to deal with everything from his tummy being very immature the first few weeks, to knowing that a good sleep routine can make all the difference to how well he sleeps through the night. I love that these books aren’t promoting extremist parenting in any way, they use plain English that anyone can understand (and sometimes even humour which lightens the mood somewhat – why is parenting so damn serious?) and are organised in a way that makes it easy to figure out what you’re looking for!

People shy away from books because they think they’ll become overwhelmed and worry more. I felt the same at first, but these books are the ones that didn’t give me that freaked out feeling and for that I am grateful!

Muslin Wraps
These light weight cloths are SO useful. I use so many of them on a daily basis and have done so since the moment we got home from hospital. They’re a fantastic vomit/regurgitation shield for your shoulder (and more importantly your clothing) as you burp your little one, they are great to have on hand when the Little Mister has drool coming from seemingly everywhere and sometimes it’s good to wrap him in one when he needs to feel safe and secure while napping (but the weather is warm). I also drape one over the front of the pram if he’s sleeping in it (helps to give him a safe, quiet spot and a way for him to block out all the stimulus the world has to offer). I find that because the wraps are breathable, they’re great in summer.

And look. A confession. On the odd occasion, when all else fails and you don’t have any other options (ie you were caught the f*ck unaware and that sh*t is EVERYWHERE), the wraps can sometimes help to wipe up some crazy spills of the poos and wees variety. Of course you have to make sure the wraps are cleaned thoroughly and sanitary for next use!!

Stuff for the Mum
Year after year I would get a little bemused by all the pampering stuff people would give me for birthdays and Christmases. It seemed like everyone in the whole wide world had the same idea! I don’t think they realised just how low maintenance (read: lazy) I was with that stuff! My skin mostly did what I wanted it to and I wasted most of my time in the shower just thinking or washing my hair obsessively (don’t ask – it’s just this thing I do).

As that stuff stacked up, I wondered how many tubs of body butter one little person could possibly need?! How many body scrubs?! Loofahs? Geez!

Now I know. My skin has not been the same since pregnancy. Hormones, stretch marks and that rash I kept banging on about are now an issue. Not to mention the drool that dries out my upper arms (the baby’s drool – not mine haha). I love nothing more than quickly rubbing body butter on myself or giving my face a quick, gentle scrub in the shower to freshen up. It’s funny because I have less time to pamper myself than I ever did, but I appreciate it even more now. When I buy baby shower gifts, I sometimes make sure that the baby isn’t the only person getting a present. I know the mum-to-be might look at me funny, like “great – more pampery stuff – everyone gives me this stuff”, but afterwards I know it’s appreciated!

It’s nice to know someone’s thinking of you just a little bit, because your world becomes all about the baby very quickly!

Well, I could go on forever (perhaps this could be a regular instalment) but I’ll stop at those five lifesavers, shall I?

What stuff can you not live without?

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Christmas Shopping and Public Humiliation. But mostly humiliation.

Pic: “Oh damn, the baby peed on my clothes again!”

Last Wednesday was a very important day in a woman’s life. It was a milestone that every young girl dreams of (well this one anyway). It was a momentous occasion shared by four generations of a family.

Yes, that’s right. Yesterday, my gran, my mum and I introduced the Little Mister (5 and a half weeks old) to the wonders of SHOPPING. And not the boring grocery shopping either. We’re talking about hours of wandering about in a big, shiny shopping centre full of cool shops full of clothes, gifts, gadgets and places to eat! You’ve gotta train them early. Sure, he behaved like most adult males and slept through a lot of it and he was very cooperative until he got hungry and tired…

Now that I’ve finished being slightly sexist…

We were going to attempt half a day of Christmas shopping with the baby in tow. He was pretty calm from the car ride (and a feed before leaving home) and slept for half the day. When he wasn’t sleeping, he was just lying in the moving pram looking about and really taking in all the strange sounds of all the music and people.

The only real challenges were when he needed to be changed. That kid does some explosive number 1s and 2s, with the occasional number 3s if you catch my drift! He especially likes to wait until his dirty nappy is off before he lets loose again with a nice, projectile surprise!

So, I didn’t know this was possible before, but it turns out that babies have superpowers. While feeding the Little Mister, he used these impressive powers to pee MY pants. Somehow he broke through the absorbent forcefield offered by his nappy and peed straight through his outfit, penetrating my dress, so that it dribbled onto my legs.

This all happened at peak lunch hour with a crowded cafe with people looking on (everyone loves looking at new babies and their hapless first time mothers it turns out). I may have exclaimed, “This is awkward!!”

At one point, my mum and gran were looking at me (I think they were laughing a little lot while still trying to be helpful and sympathetic – they only just pulled it off) with a completely oblivious baby in my lap determined to finish his feed (must clarify that I was feeding him from a bottle – boobs were not out thank goodness), a freaked out look on my face and a cloth shoved in my neckline, much like a bib, in case (heaven forbid) he decided to spit up on me as well, and bright coloured hand towels hastily bought by my mum for $2 in the neighbouring store shoved in my lap to absorb the urine! Let’s just say that I’m working on a theory that the indignity of pregnancy and childbirth occurs to prepare us for the indignity of baby wrangling in public! You don’t have a chance to be truly embarrassed – you’re too busy!

I finally managed to grab a minute to gulp down half of my lunch (it’s this new diet where you eat 50% less everything – it’s called having a new baby), which was so not what I ordered (chicken and bacon together is not something I’m a fan of – I don’t like mixing my dead animals too much – I ordered chicken and avocado in my sandwich dammit!) and I wheeled the baby out of there at a rate of knots. As I left the cafe, clucky ladies kept telling me how beautiful my baby was – pretty funny moment to pick, really!

There was no parenting room close by, so I changed the Little Mister in the parent and child toilet while he was in his bassinet. I laid down stuff to protect the fitted sheet in the pram and I had the strap of the nappy bag around my neck like a dangling feed bag (yep – hope you’re having a good laugh at my expense). I could reach into it for everything I needed as there was no bench space! You sure learn how to improvise – fast!

I realised how vastly unprepared I was (awesomely unprepared in fact). I had packed a pretty good nappy bag, but it was missing extra quantities of a lot of things (I grossly underestimated the baby’s ability to decimate many items over a short amount of time) and a spare outfit for myself. I sure learnt that the hard way! Luckily I packed my sense of humour!!! There is sometimes nothing you can do but laugh and think of it as a funny story to tell :)

So, what did we achieve that day? Um…survival? Other than that, not much else. I think we bought NOTHING. Between the three of us adults. This is very out of character. Although, my mum did manage to buy members of our family some goats in third world villages and stuff like that. So I guess that’s something. And it’s for a good cause. So yeah.

While it is tempting to just sit at home and buy everyone’s gifts online next year, I know I will enjoy showing the Little Mister the Christmas decorations, traumatising him with a photo on Santa’s lap and teaching him the joy of giving! I’ll just pack our whole house with me when we head to the shops! Or wear disposable clothes and have everything made out of terry towelling…

How is your Christmas/holiday shopping going? What is your gift giving style?