Tag: trying to be a grown up

A messy girl’s guide to cleaning up your side of the bathroom.

I know this will shock you, but I am not a domestic goddess. And by ‘shock you’ I mean, ‘probably not going to surprise you in the slightest if you even vaguely know me’.

I have a very busy brain and I can lose focus easily. Sometimes this means that my organisation skills suffer a lot little. I’ve had years of practice being me, so I have overcome a lot of these issues by planning better and making things easier for myself in life in general, but things do slip through the cracks. Especially when I’ve been out of my mind busy. Which is very different to being ‘got your shit together’ busy. Ha!

Lately, my side of the bathroom vanity was left to suffer. I’d been rushing around a lot – doing my make-up and then running without time to tidy up after myself. I’d dumped my stuff there rather unceremoniously after we got back from our recent trip to NSW and never really sorted it out. It was a f*cking dumpsite. Very embarrassing. I have photographic proof…

It looks like something from a hoarder’s house. Or one of those ‘rental tenants from hell’ pieces on a current affairs show. And quite honestly, I thought I’d removed any truly embarrassing items from view before taking the ‘before’ photo, but I clearly missed the tiny end of a tampon wrapper. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I’m posting this. Just #keepingitreal I guess!

Also, I should note that the martini glass was not used for drinking martinis out of and then abandoned (geez – I’m not an animal). Once upon a time, I had used it as a ‘trendy’ earring holder because I saw it on Pinterest like a bajillion years ago. You can see how well that went.

Anyway, I have redeemed myself. And it only took me probably less than an hour once I’d picked up a couple of basic things from Kmart (last of the big spenders).

Here is the ‘after’ picture (to help you recover from the awful ‘before’ picture):

I am not a perfect stylist (white flecks on the counter damn it) but I think I did OK! Mr Unprepared will be stoked haha (we have that stereotypical situation where his side is all minimalistic and tidy and mine is ALWAYS a mess).

Here’s what I’ve learned…

STOP KEEPING ALL THAT SHIT YOU NEVER USE.

I cannot stress this enough. I had make up items that I knew were the wrong shade for me, did not do my skin/lips any favours (i.e. dried everything out etc), or were so old that I could vaguely remember purchasing them before my son was born!!!

I had accessories that had once been really trendy but were now decidedly daggy and hadn’t been worn since forever. There was  cheap jewellery that had discoloured or gotten tangled up beyond recognition. Odd earrings. WTF.

What freaks me out is that this stuff had actually survived multiple clean outs! I do not know what I was thinking. If you think you’ll use it one day, but those days have turned into years, it’s got to go!!

I am going to be far more mindful of what I purchase from now on. I was never a frivolous spender, but I think sometimes when you’re trying to learn about make up or what works for you, mistakes can be made. It’s all trial and error. I think I’ll learn to gift it to someone else when appropriate or just admit that it’s never going to work for me and throw it away!

Be brutal. You can find info on how long is too long to keep certain cosmetics if you do a little internet research too. Helps to have a little reality check.

Put the ‘sometimes’ items away in a caddy for easy access.

I bought a nice open caddy style container (fitting with the theme of the above containers in the ‘after’ pic) to fit all the things that aren’t used daily, but that I go to regularly. Things like extra hair ties (I’m usually a hair down kind of gal but I do up my hair around the house when working out or on hot days), bobby pins, hair removal products (haha), face masks, eye shadow pallets that only come out on special occasions and the like. Everything’s together and easy to grab now. YES.

It’s also great that this stuff is no longer cluttering up my counter space. AWESOME SAUCE.

Group ‘like’ things together so they’re easy to find.

I know you’re thinking, DUH. THIS STUFF IS SO OBVIOUS. But I really hadn’t put any of it into practice before. That’s the key – who knew that actually doing it is just as important as thinking about it haha.

I put all the make up brushes together in one tumbler thingy. I put eye, brow and lip pencils etc in another. I put lipsticks/glosses in a make up stand so I can see them easily. Skin stuff in another container. And so on.

I think this will save me so much time trying to find my every day items. It will also make it easier to tidy up afterwards. It will take me the same amount of time to tidy them up as it would have to throw them down on the bench in a rush.

Now if only I had some sort of inbuilt motivation to clean my brushes as often as I should!

Bring the space to life. 

I’ve been working on activating ‘dead’ spaces around my home. I want every part of my house to feel alive and inviting. I have a long way to go, but I’ve been slowly working on it for a while now. I think that some of the more utilitarian type spaces of the house tend to get forgotten around here and they can end up making you feel flat and unexcited when you have to spend time in those areas and then they start to look progressively shabbier.

I bought me some cheapy fake succulents in cool geometric vase thingies and put them on a shelf that is usually strewn with clutter. Voila! Suddenly, I feel a teensy bit more house proud and happy when I look at them. They also serve the purpose of stopping me from mindlessly cluttering up the shelf from now on. It was a real problem spot!

Be on the look out for inspiration.

I love to get ideas from Pinterest and Instagram when I am not sure where to get started. I saw so many great ideas to draw inspiration from before I purchased some of my storage stuff for the ensuite. With so many on-trend items available at affordable prices these days (as well as great online tutorials on how to do it yourself if you’re crafty), it can be really easy to recreate your favourite looks/ideas. Just be sure to update things every now and then *cough* martini glass *cough*


So, tell me.

How’s your bathroom counter looking?

Got any amazingly spectacular/terribly awful pics to share with me? 

Things I could do instead of being on hold.

Today I had to make some phone calls that I was dreading. Not just because I sometimes get tongue tied on the phone with strangers (didn’t happen today – a miracle!), but because I hate being put on hold. HATE IT. I mean, does anyone actually like it?? That music (or more accurately muzak). Those patronising messages every 5 minutes about how the service provider is thankful that I am waiting and that they appreciate my call and that I am in a long queue – thanks for being patient (when I have no choice). Yuck yuck yuck.

I got off lightly because in total, I was only on hold for 40 minutes. I had predicted that I would be waiting that long (or longer) for only one call to be answered. Still, it got me thinking about all of the things I could do instead of being on hold and, for those collective 40 minutes, I realised that I had taken for granted all of the other 40 minute blocks of time I’ve had in my life where I wasn’t on hold and what I could do with that time to make my life more enjoyable! I’m only half joking.

I thought about doing these things at the same time as being on hold, but that muzak made me feel stabby and I couldn’t think straight with it on in the background or hear anything else haha.

15 minutes

  • Program my DVR for the entire week – because that stuff takes time (priorities!)
  • Listen to around 5 pop songs (at about 3 minutes in length each)
  • Drive from my house into the centre of my home town to do more enjoyable stuff
  • Put on a pore strip and then remove it and stare at it for about 5 minutes (because that’s the fun part)
  • Write this little list of things I could do in 15 minutes while on hold (taking lengthy pauses to think in between ideas)

30 minutes

  • Give myself a decent manicure using normal nail polish – taking time to let two coats dry
  • Watch an episode of Home and Away from the night before (including the ads)
  • Do a Couch to 5 K work out on the treadmill
  • Walk to the beach from my house at a leisurely pace (because being at the beach is heaps better than being on hold)
  • Read a chapter of Amy Schumer’s book

40 minutes

  • Watch an episode of anything involving the Kardashians (without ads)
  • Have a nap – you can fit a whole sleep cycle into 40 minutes and actually wake up feeling better!
  • Complete an entire week’s online grocery shop
  • Write an entire blog post
  • Clean half my house

Bonus list – gun to my head – what I would pick over being on hold for 40 minutes:

  • Watching 8 episodes of Peppa Pig
  • Ironing around 13 work shirts for my husband (keep in mind that I don’t iron if I can get away with it and I don’t iron his stuff especially haha)
  • Asking my child to find his shoes because we’re going out (hahaha – I swear it probably takes that long for us to argue about it and for him to find them)
  • Waiting in line anywhere. OK, so that almost comes in at a tie but at least I can people watch and entertain my inner judgy bitch
  • Writing up the monthly family budget and paying all the bills – YUCK. BUT STILL LESS YUCK THAN BEING ON HOLD.

What’s the longest you’ve ever been on hold for? I bet there’s some great Centrelink personal bests out there!

 

Taking Stock: November 2016.

Hello, November! Is anyone else getting creeped out by how close it is to Christmas? I’m usually kind of organised, but this year the winter has dragged on so long that I haven’t felt the urge to get into it! Also, Halloween becomes bigger each progressing year here in Australia, so I feel like we kind of have to get through that hump first! I don’t know how the Americans do it! I mean, they have Thanksgiving too! Jam packed!

Anyway, every couple of months I like to ‘take stock’. Here’s what’s happening in my brain/life right now.

Making: Plans to head ‘over east’ next year! We’ve just RSVPd to a wedding in  the Hunter Valley (I’ve never been – yay!) and I’m getting excited to show the Little Mister a few iconic Sydney sights too!

Cooking: Has been surprisingly easier since I (re)started my Kez Gets Physical efforts. I still get annoyed that everyone wants dinner every night – geez haha – but with more salads and veggies on the menu, I’m enjoying a change in our habits.

Drinking: Alcohol again. See, I rarely indulge anymore. The fertility stuff is pretty all consuming and I usually try to stay pretty sober for most of my cycle because of medications and ‘just in case’ (the ‘just in case’ that never eventuates). This cycle seems like it’s been effed up from the start, so I have given myself permission to live a little before shit gets serious again. I’m loving my cider!

Reading: Hardly anything, despite my best intentions. I am part way through Amy Schumer’s Girl With The Lower Back Tattoo, but I haven’t picked it up since we got back from our camping trip Kalbarri in September! Oops! I have been flirting with the idea of getting into audio books, to get around this issue!

Wanting: To sort out my wardrobe. I’m excited that spring weather is FINALLY upon us and I can’t wait to get my winter stuff moved to the back of my wardrobe (I like to hang the out of season stuff out of sight – makes it easier to get dressed). I am excited that I’m losing some weight too, which could be dangerous because it makes me want to go clothes shopping!

Looking: At my bedroom door, waiting for the Little Mister to come bursting through it at any minute now to demand breakfast (don’t be surprised if this blog post isn’t finished until long after this moment haha).

Playing: Music in the evenings has been keeping me sane lately.

Deciding: To be positive and happy, because even though I’ve dealt with a few emotional/anxiety inducing life things lately, I feel like life’s too short to let them bring me down. There are so many good things in my life and I deserve to enjoy them.

Wishing: I could get more sleep each night. I go to bed at a reasonable hour, but Mr Unprepared keeps waking me in the early hours! God damn it! I’m tired! We all know how cranky I get when I’m tired!

Enjoying: Instagram. I was really really late to the party, creating an account for my blog (as opposed to my personal/private account), but it’s really connected me with some great bloggers/people/small businesses/events! It’s fun!

Waiting: For all the Melbourne Cup posts on social media today. I could not be less into it lately! I love the fashion, but I’m not into horses and I don’t like gambling (apart from the occasional lotto ticket) so I’d feel like a hypocrite if I got too excited about it one day a year!

Liking: My social plans for November so far.

Wondering: If I’ll be productive today or lazy? I could do with both haha.

Loving: My husband. He’s been pretty awesome lately (ha – lately). I’m very grateful.

Pondering: On all the sentimental stuff that runs through my head around the time of the Little Mister’s birthday. He’s turning 5 in a few days – OMG!

Considering: My work options for next year. With the Little Mister in full time school, I’m wondering if I can find some more ways to bring a little extra moolah in.

Buying: A ripped denim skirt (HAS to be ripped) and an insulated bag for the Little Mister’s lunchbox. Online. Because summer is coming. It thrills me. Shut up.

Watching: X Factor. I KNOW. I can’t help it. I know I’m the only (grown/self respecting) person in the world who is thinking about this, but I think that Brentwood duo should try singing GroupLove’s Welcome To Your Life. I also think that the Amalia girl should sing Evanescence stuff for the inevitable ‘rock’ week. I am getting way too many opinions for someone who says they don’t really care about it. Yes, I’m concerned about me too. 

Hoping: The Little Mister keeps playing quietly/happily today!

Marvelling: At all the pics of everyone’s Halloween outfits from yesterday/last weekend. While I am yet to partake in any of that stuff (and can even be a tad very grinchy about it), I do admire a creative fancy dress situation.

Cringing: At the fact that my face looks old, tired and dry today. I really need to put some more effort into looking after it. It’s my money maker! Bahaha. Kidding about the money maker bit. Obviously.

Needing: To get to a vet appointment for my dog that I totally forgot about – oh shit! Is what I would have written if I’d had time when that just happened haha. I’m glad that Past Kez went on a calendar organising spree or I’d never have got there!

Questioning: Why I ever showed the Little Mister the show Full House. Because now he is fucking obsessed!

Smelling: Sunscreen as we just got back from a walk to the shops.

Wearing: Active-wear. Because walk to the shops.

Following: A bunch of great bloggers who don’t troll people on the internet.

Noticing: That my neck is sore because last night I fell into a coma like state, sleeping very deeply in an awkward position.

Knowing: That being myself is my biggest asset is incredibly reassuring. It’s a  work in progress, but I love how my confidence grows the older I get.

Thinking: I’m glad I took that walk to the shops. I feel so much better for it.

Admiring: One of my friends who kicks arse in Fitbit step challenges consistently. Goals!

Sorting: Out my life. Bit by bit. So just the usual haha.

Getting: Excited to celebrate the Little Mister’s birthday this weekend.

Bookmarking: All the videos I find in my Facebook feed, that I can’t watch around the Little Mister!

Coveting: A nice big desk top computer for when my office is sorted (it has taken FOREVER). Sure, I won’t be able to afford one, for like, forever. But I shall get there! At the very least, my kid being at school will make an awesome excuse eventually haha.

Disliking: The fact that my office isn’t sorted out. All I need is nice carpet and then it’s practically done and I can just move everything back in and make it pretty!

Opening: My eyes in the morning is a struggle, but somehow I still manage to peek at my iPhone with one of them anyway! #addicted

Giggling: When I reminisce on a ridiculous conversation I had with my girlfriends over dinner a couple of weeks ago. We were cry-laughing and it was SO GOOD.

Feeling: Tired but content.

Snacking: Nope. Haha. Occasionally, you might see me scoffing down a square of Pana Chocolate (it’s amazing), but I am trying really hard to stay focused on eating well and not indulging in unhealthy ‘treats’.

Helping: Is something the Little Mister tries to do all most of the time and I love him so much for it.

Hearing: The Little Mister coughing. WHERE DID HE GET THIS COUGH. Winter is over! Fuck off, germs!


So, if you made it to the end of that, you deserve a medal!

What have you been up to lately? 

#MumLife: Labels or Love?

Being a mum/primary caregiver of children can be fucking hard. And I am not even talking about the day in, day out shenanigans that come with just the child care and juggling of everything. I’m talking about the fact that there are big personalities and the publicising of our lives and social media blah blah. I am pretty pissed off that we keep finding new ways to keep up with the ‘mummy wars’. I am pissed off that it’s still even a thing! I mean, COME ON.

Everyone is so quick to label themselves and each other. Talking shit about how they’re not judging, but…BUT WHAT? Come on. We all judge. Let’s not pretend it isn’t human nature. But what we do with that judgement is what matters. Is it not just enough to agree to disagree? Unfollow? Stop watching? Or do we have to hate read everything and set our followers onto someone else’s followers, with torches and pitchforks every time we’re offended?

Do we have to call ourselves a *insert any trendy name here for a collective of people* and feel like we’re in the clique and exclude others because it makes us feel more important and exclusive?

I am calling bullshit. I am calling bullshit on all the labels. I am sick of the fucking labels. Are you a slack mum? A helicopter mum? A free range mum? A fit mum? A sweary mum? A classy mum? A snobby mum? An Alpha mum? A tiger mum? A don’t give a fuck mum? An anxious mum? A make everything from scratch mum? A pre-packaged everything mum? A Kmart mum? An Etsy mum? A working mum? A stay at home mum? An attachment mum? A…queen? Sigh.

Do you get to be proud of your label or should you be ashamed? It’s just exhausting. Bloody exhausting.

I can be every mum at any given moment on any given day. And I am deciding  right now that I will reject all these ridiculous labels. Because at some point in time, I have been just about all of them. It’s called being a REAL mum. And that’s not a label because I’m not going to tell you how to be one or what it means to be one. I am just telling you to live your life, keep it real – your version of what’s real, not what some Facebook Idol has told you is real – honour yourself and keep on trucking. Or take a break. I don’t care. You know what you need, right? You’ll find your tribe and hopefully your kids won’t be scarred for life. Isn’t that all we can hope for?

I have wobbly bits, but I exercise and try to better my diet. Other times I know life is too short to not eat the cake or to cry over my flab. I have given my kid toast for dinner. I have spent hours slaving over a delicious, healthy something or other I found on Pinterest. I have had anxiety. I have melted down. But I have also had my shit together so rock solid that no-one better cross me. I’ve been that forgetful mum at school – whoops, did we leave the library book at home? Forget that permission slip for that thing? I’ve also been that organised mum who breezes in with it all sorted. I’ve slept well. I’ve slept badly. I’ve worked and I’ve stayed at home. I’ve even worked from home. I’ve breastfed, bottle fed, fed everything from a package because I was overwhelmed, I’ve made everything from scratch because I had the time and energy. I’ve pushed my kid to do better and I’ve let him roam free and get his creativity on. I’ve let him watch screens and I’ve told him he’s had enough. I’ve worn lovely put together outfits to the school gate, and I’ve slumped in wearing active wear when everyone knows I’m not going to do anything active because who am I kidding, I just wanted to wear the comfy clothes. I’ve been sweary, but I’ve also been restrained when appropriate. I’ve been a fierce mama bear and I’ve also let him fight his own battles. I’ve sent my kid to school with a fancy bento lunch box…filled with whatever was left in the fridge because as if I’m going to the bloody supermarket AGAIN this week. I’ve been hungover, parenting from the couch on the occasional Sunday when I could actually be bothered going out. I’ve been ridiculously responsible. I’ve been obsessed with inspirational quotes, I’ve laughed at the terrible ones. I’ve dressed like a tragic grungy teen and I’ve dressed like a dork. I can laugh at myself, but you better not be bullying anyone else. I’ve felt mum guilt and I’ve felt mum guilt about not feeling any damn mum guilt. I’ve said yes to things I wish I hadn’t said yes to, and no when I wished I’d said yes. I’ve been that annoying bitch with the highlight reel on Instagram. I’ve confided in my followers, warts and all when it got too much.

At the end of the day, I don’t fit into anyone’s stupid boxes. I take what I like from my favourite social media entities and I quietly leave them alone when I don’t agree. I am mine.

I am real. I am me. I am made up of so many different influences I’ve stumbled across along the way. I am made up of what I brought to the table too. Because that’s just as good.

I wrote this post because I want every other mum out there who doesn’t fit into a label or a gang or a box or a social media movement to know that I don’t either and that’s OK.

I believe in critical thinking – being able to recognise what’s good and what might not be serving me. I have always maintained that my social media and my blog will always be a safe place. I’m not going to tell you who to be, although I will be assertive when I think something is just objectively, morally fucked up.

If you’re trying your damnedest (is that even a word – who cares) to teach your kids to be considerate, kind and inclusive, resilient and emotionally intelligent (something the internet could do with more of), then I am so down with that and I don’t care how you get there. Because we wouldn’t be ‘mummies’ without our kids (who we love to death). But we are also so much more than that and that’s pretty rad.

Mummy wars can fuck off.

5 ways I currently don’t have my shit together.

Recently, I’ve been living with the frustration of feeling like I just don’t have my shit together. It’s just been one of those years (so far). It’s only May, but I’ve been sick twice with awful lingering colds, had surgery (currently recovering from that one), become a school mum (a test of any parent’s organisational/social skills) and have had to deal with endometriosis and secondary infertility throughout it all – all of which involves times where you’re physically and mentally stretched to your limits.

When I found Kelly Exeter’s post ‘5 ways I currently don’t have my shit together’ on her blog A Life Less Frantic, I felt really relieved. If someone who has all the inspiring advice on how to get your shit together, also has times when she feels like she doesn’t have her shit together, then maybe I’m not such a big fail after all! Nothing like the comfort of feeling less alone!

Here are the 5 ways I’ve been feeling less than on top of this life thing:

I am sick of being sick/less than at my optimum physical condition, sick of thinking about it and sick of talking about it

When I’m not at my best physically, it can be very tempting to do a lot of navel gazing. I mean, I have had a lot of time to myself having a pity party about the lack of a ‘life’ I feel like I have. I don’t want to bore everyone with the details all the time, but I also feel a responsibility to tell people what’s happening if it’s affected my ability to be present/on top of things. It’s so god damn tiresome. I’m sick of it. I feel like a big, boring wet blanket. It’s not who I am and these times do not define me, but I am well aware of the fact that if it’s all that seems to be going on with me, that perception may be out there.

I try to be positive and balance out my ‘sick/lame Kez’ stories with other stuff, but then I get annoyed that I don’t always have much else to talk about when someone asks me how I am or what I’ve been up to. Maybe I’ve been a little bit depressed (not using that term lightly) and haven’t realised.

Even writing about it still gives me the irrits. Even more than the word ‘irrits’ does!

I mean, I hate how people have way worse things going on with them and yet I feel consumed by this crap. I feel embarrassed about that and a bit pathetic.

I feel stupid at the school gate

I am a really involved, loving parent, but being a school mum does not come naturally to me (does anyone/everyone/no-one feel the same?) and I feel so awkward standing around before and after school with all the mums – even though they’re all so nice and I know they’re in the same position as me (i.e. they’re standing there too)! Sometimes I feel like I’m running late so I rush in a bit flustered. Other times, I don’t know how long to chat or when to just get the eff out of there. I’m in awe of the mums who look like they’ve got it together and are wearing actual proper ‘outfits’ and not just the first thing they found in their floordrobe that seemed OKish. It’s worse when I’ve been dealing with some physical stuff and it really challenges my ability to seem ‘all there’. I still feel like a school kid scared of breaking the rules – what am I doing there as a parent?! Who let this happen??

I am shit at committing to things

This seems to have been a big side effect of the physical stuff I’ve been dealing with (as outlined above). I seem to have lost faith in being able to say yes to something that is happening in a couple of weeks’ time and know that it’s going to actually happen. It’s like I’ve decided that I should be psychic, able to account for everything that might possibly happen between now and then. Or else just give up and say no.

So I end up not participating in my life as much as I could or flaking. I hate being a flake. I hated flaky people until I became one. Actually I still hate it. Now I just get mad at myself. I cannot apologise to people enough.

In turn, this affects my social confidence and the cycle goes round and round.

I am working on this.

I never feel like a ‘put together’ woman

Thanks to my endometriosis, I have had the skin of an awkward 14 year old for a while now. It’s a bit difficult trying to feel like a grown woman, when your skin is wildly fluctuating from dry and almost flaky to oily and filled with zits.

I feel like it’s rare that I turn up somewhere and my outfit is polished and well put together, my make up/skin looking nice/normal/age appropriate. I know that sounds really shallow, but the ritual of putting my outer self together is important to me these days. My confidence is tied up in it more than I’d like to admit. Maybe it’s a control thing. I feel like I can’t control what’s happening inside of me so I have started to become obsessed with cosmetics and nice manicures and properly styled outfits.

I did not even make the connection until I literally just typed this and it spilled out of me – Aha moment!! OMG. Note to self: revisit this!

I can’t ever exercise regularly for more than maybe a week or two at a time

I am always banging on about my Kez Gets Physical mission and while I am fairly accepting of the fact that life (and emotion haha) interrupts our best efforts at exercise and nutrition sometimes, my ability to do focused exercise is very important to me. My mental health relies on it and my physical health has so much potential that I am not able to tap into right now.

No matter how much my mind is willing to keep up a consistent lifestyle of fitness and exercise, my body has refused to cooperate. I am hoping this stuff will get easier now that I have had my surgery, but you can understand my frustration, I’m sure!

The thing is, I could dwell on how awful these things are. But I am not going to do that. I refuse. I am so ready to take life by the balls (what the hell saying is that??) and push on through. I’m a fighter and I am strong. Now that I’ve identified 5 key areas where I feel like I do not have my shit together, I can do something about them. I can’t fix it all overnight but I can take some steps that will make me feel empowered when I see progress. I have to celebrate the small wins.

I feel like recovering from last week’s surgery has been a pivotal moment for me. I’m taking this chance to start afresh. I will surely experience many more stumbling blocks moving forward (that’s life), but I feel hopeful about my future and my health for the first time in a long time and I am relieved to re-learn just how resilient my spirit is.

Here’s to always remembering that nobody ever has ALL their shit together ALL the time and not worrying so much. Here’s to not forgetting to notice what we’re getting right too! Here’s to always being able to find something we CAN do, when there are so many other things we can’t.

How are you? Do you have your shit together? What areas are you struggling with? 

What is this? A handbag for ants?

When the Little Mister was born, my handbag situation got ridiculous. Every day, a trip to the shops was like moving houses. An overnight stay somewhere took the same preparation time as that of a month long overseas holiday. There was a pram, nappy bag, my handbag…actually, scratch that. For a while, my nappy bag was also my handbag. Because babies don’t give a damn about style. They just need bottles, wipes, mashed up baby food goo, nappies, nappy rash cream, spare outfits (because poop tsunamis), teething toys, bibs blah blah. You name it, I had it in my bag. I was awesomely over-prepared (yet it never felt like it).

When the Little Mister reached toddlerhood, I managed to get away with carrying just one massive handbag (it was a way of fooling myself into thinking that nobody would be able to tell it was a total ‘mum’ bag – not sure it fooled anyone). That habit has truly stuck. I win all of those silly baby shower/kitchen tea party games – you know the ones where you get points for every ridiculous thing you find in your handbag? Yep. I am a freakin’ champ. I will come to your baby shower and fuck shit up. Woo. Last time I won, it was because I had a toy Hot Wheels car and an odd sock in there.

I am that uncoordinated jerk filling up the aisles on aeroplanes with my massive jerk bag. I am the idiot who bangs her handbag into people at the shops. Mostly accidentally of course. In my defence, some people just walk right into it. I guess they just can’t handle someone with that much swag bag. I am always being told, “WATCH OUT” by the people I’m with, because if anyone’s going to turn around suddenly, swiping several fragile things off a shop shelf…I’m your guy.

(PS Kate Hill does some awesome ones if you’re in that awkward toddler phase BTW – you’re welcome – you too can be a jerk with a big jerk bag but it will be a pretty jerk bag)

So anyhoo…with the Little Mister starting kindy this month, I thought I deserved a little treat. Key word: little. Because now I’m going to spend more days getting out and about without him than with him – which is a little bit bittersweet if you ask me but let’s move on without being a sentimental fool for once, Kez – that means I don’t have to carry so much crap. YESSSSS.

I found this beauty. She was on sale ($30 WHAT?!). She was much smaller than the big arsed bag I’ve been lugging about. She was a pretty colour. She had zips and pockets in all the right places.

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Yep. People have ‘first day of school’ photos. I have a photo to commemorate my first smallish handbag. OK, so maybe I have a ton of first day of school photos too, but shhhhh. I’m having a moment.

I feel like this milestone is completely underrated.

I took my new bag with me to school drop off and the shops today. It was fantastic. It tucked so nicely under my arm. My shoulder didn’t want to dislocate itself from the weight. Sure, it will take some getting used to. I mean, it’s really weird being able to find stuff in there right away. And it does feel like a little handbag for tiny ants.

I feel like someone’s going to yell out, “OH LOOK. WHAT’S WITH THAT LADY’S TEENSY TINY HANDBAG. IT LOOKS LIKE A DOLL’S HANDBAG. THAT HANDBAG IS TOO SMALL FOR HUMANS.”

But the truth is, it’s really just a normal sized handbag. You know? The type that normal women use every day without incident?

It’s liberating. Let me illustrate how it feels, with the use of a Nicolas Cage gif.

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So tell me.

How big is your handbag? What’s the weirdest thing in it, right now

Anticipatory Car Park Anxiety: It’s totally a thing.

Sometimes I get anxiety about a bunch of things (some reasons that make more sense than others). But I have this one anxiety quirk that has never left me. And I want to know if I’m the only one who deals with it…

I get anxious about where I’m going to park when I arrive somewhere. 

Like, for real.

If I am not familiar with the venue or area, I spend way too long worried about where my car will be situated. Like, my heart will actually race at the thought of it sometimes.

I will spend ages before I leave home, googling maps and wondering if it’s parallel street parking, whether there’s enough car spaces in the nearest car park and how much longer it will take me to get to my destination, if I have to account for finding a car space. I worry about where/when I’m allowed to park. What side of the road the parking is on and whether it is easy to access. I worry about how busy the area will be. WHAT IF I CAN’T FIND A SPOT AND EVERYTHING GOES TO HELL IN A HANDBASKET (what does that even mean). What the rules are for each car park: how long I’m allowed to park there for, whether it requires a ticket to be paid for, blah blah.

Because, despite my seemingly rebellious nature, I am a nervous, over thinking chook of a person when it comes to the idea of actually breaking any rules.

Yes. I am ridiculous.

This week, the Little Mister started kindy. I swear I spent so much time worrying about where I would need to park each day. I beat myself up for days for not remembering to ask anyone about this simple every day logistical thing ahead of time – I mean, I knew just about every other thing (trust me). His school has several car parks and I knew nothing of the rules. It was a little bit hilarious just how relieved I was when I got there (after scrolling through pages and pages of online official school documents to find a map) and realised that there were LOTS of places to park at drop off and pick up time. LOTS. And the ‘kiss and drop’ portion of the car park was clearly marked so I would not risk confusing it for a place to park in (we can’t do kiss and drop for kindy kids – obviously best to walk them in and out).

You would not believe how ecstatic I was. After finding my parking spot, I just knew the whole day would go well. Because my car had a spot.

It’s almost like I associate an easy parking experience with turning up somewhere feeling poised and confident and not flustered. Like it determines how well a meeting or an event will go. It’s like an extension of my social anxiety (which is a funny thing for a fairly outgoing person to have).

But like with any other anxiety I experience, it would do me good to remember that everything turns out OK in the end and is RARELY worst case scenario stuff. I haven’t been through anything I haven’t survived or learned from, right?

I mean, do you actually know anyone who couldn’t find a parking spot and that fact alone wrecked their whole entire lives/perception of themselves FOREVER? I mean, I’m sure there are rare exceptional circumstances in which this has probably certainly happened, but what are the odds? Come on, Kez. Get it together.

I am such a freak. Or am I?

Do you get anxious about weird things? Spill!!! 

I’m not ready (to be a school mum)!

OK, so technically I am ready in the sense that all of the booklist items have been procured and the Little Mister’s uniform is ready and all I have to do is put his name on everything. I learned about being prepared nice and early because BC (Before Child) I worked in a stationery and school supplies store and the stress the ‘last minute’ parents put themselves through was SO not worth it (and it made them into horrible monsters).

But mentally ready? Not. At. All.

As for the Little Mister – he seems nervous but glad to be a ‘big kid’ at ‘big school’ soon (we’re talking kindy for 4 year olds). He asks me questions about it all the time and he sounds so adorably naive and he thinks anything that is remotely grown up will be on offer at kindy. Like maybe he can use knives there and drink from glass tumblers and stuff. Because grown up. But he also asks if he’ll still get nap time and toys to play with.

He is also mourning the end of his time at day care – it’s started to sink in that he’s never going back (even though I started preparing him before Christmas last year). We run into his little day care buddies all the time in this small world we live in. He cries about missing one particular boy he used to play with a lot. He also misses his favourite teacher.

We’ve had little chats where I’ve told him that while it can be sad to leave a place and people that we love and know so well, as we grow up we have a chance to have new adventures and learn new things and make new friends we might love just as much. I’ve promised him that it’s OK. That as grown up as he is becoming, he is still my little kid and I will always be there for him to help guide him and explain how things work. He’s not on his own. Not yet!

All the while, I’m running a parallel shit scared commentary in my own head.

What if I’m a big fail of a school mum? What if I’m that mum that forgets stuff all the time (I seriously struggled with a couple of kindy preparation related things last year – probably me being in denial – and it really knocked my confidence)? What if I hate having to be so much more organised? Pressure’s on to get my act together! What if I am not the ideal ‘private school mum’? What if I just look like a hot bogan mess at school drop offs and pick ups and everyone else is wearing the latest active wear or corporate outfits or on point ‘mum’ clothes? What if a lot of the other mums are much more ‘proper’ than I am? I don’t even really know where to park my car. Not even kidding. I mean, there are several car parks but I have no idea which ones are for who. I never asked. HOLD ME.

Not to mention that being an ex (high school) student of that same school, I get crazy flashbacks walking in there all the time. I feel like I’m still the student. Like at any moment, I’m about to break a rule about how to wear my uniform or realise I haven’t done my homework in time or will somehow offend a teacher and get in trouble! I actually had a pretty great time there. I made great friends and the sense of community was strong. It was also a quality education that I was given. Which is why we picked the place for the Little Mister. But still. PTSD much? Haha.

How am I allowed to have a kid and send it to school? I’M NOT EVEN A GROWN UP YET AND I’M 31.

TELL ME. HOW?

I worry about whether he’ll get in trouble – not because he’s a bad kid, but because he can get a bit too excited about things. He’s very…exuberant (and strong minded). I just try to remind myself that he’s only 4. They’ll understand this. They’ll guide him. I’m sure of it. I hope?

Don’t even get me started on the first day I have to leave him there. In his little uniform. Waaaaaaaah.

Don’t get me wrong – he’ll be fine. Me? Who knows. My mum sent me a message the other day, regarding this. She told me to buy a box of tissues and used a wine glass emoji.

*gulp*

I mean, we both did fine with the day care drop off thing last year, but this just feels so much more emotional! Why is that?!

Is anyone else going to be school mum/dad for the first time this year? Have you got some experience under your belt – got any advice or reassurance to offer?? 

When you’re in your PJs by midday. Winning.

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Have you ever had a sudden revelation that changes your life forever?

*smug face*

I have. I had a revelation late last night. I’d turned everything off, was ready to go to bed and then I remembered my earlier intention to buy some cheap hoodies online, so I don’t have to wash the same two over and over to the point of ridiculous. Out came the laptop and I managed to grab a couple that were on sale. While this was going to make my life easier (and comfier), this was not the revelation. The revelation came when the website told me that if I just spent $20 more I would get free postage. Everyone loves free postage, right?

So I thought I’d have a look at some PJs. I had been wearing the same long sleeved nightie to death, because it was the only thing I felt comfy in. I have winter PJs but the pants kept annoying me. They were a bit loose so when I was sleeping, they bunched up at my knees or into my crotch (TMI?). I’d resorted to my trusty nightie, but my legs did get a bit cold and Mr Unprepared isn’t always stoked when I use his legs to warm mine at night (“Get off! Your feet are FREEZING!”). I admit I do it on purpose just for a bit of a shit stir sometimes – never gets old. For me, anyhow.

I did see a lot of ‘loungewear’ that confused me. Are they clothes specifically for lounging about in? Can you wear them in public? How does it work? What is ‘loungewear’? It kind of seems like when pyjamas and real clothes have a baby and they name it loungewear. Does anyone ever wear it? Tell me how/where/when, please. It seems kind of like a fancy thing to do.

Anyhow, back to the pyjama situation. I saw these PJ pants that spoke to me. I must point out that while they are an absolute revelation to me, they are not at all a new concept. They’re basically long johns (but not thermal – not the ones I bought anyway). Leggings that you wear to bed, if you want to nitpick. They’re made in the softest fabric, they stretch with you and because they are very fitted, they don’t ride up. They’re kind of like the bottom half of a good pair of onesies. Without the butt flap.

Only the day before, I had got into my bed in a fit of wishful thinking (I have a kid and it was not night time yet). I thought, “I wish I could wear leggings to bed”. And then I got straight out of my bed, because I have a kid and I didn’t want to make my leggings all fluffy and gross.

So you can imagine my excitement when I realised that all my life I had failed to realise the existence of these amazing pyjama pants.

Earth shattering, I know. You’re shocked too, and not at all rolling your eyes at how late I am to this glorious soft panted party, right?

So I ordered them. And then today I found some in Big W and I bought them, because they were cheap and colourful and I couldn’t wait any longer.

I got home and all I wanted to do was put them on and swan about my house in them for the rest of the day. I waited until I’d done all of my ‘need to go out the front of the house’ tasks, and then I could not resist for even a moment longer. So basically, this all happened before 1pm. The Little Mister thinks I’m bonkers, but DAMN I’m comfy.

My excuse was, that it’s Friday. Magical things happen on Friday. Friday is a beautiful unicorn riding on a rainbow.

But I later found out that there was actually an even better excuse! Today is National Pyjama Day! How’s that for the best ever accidental coincidence?

I decided that I couldn’t know that this wonderful day was happening without donating a little something to help the effort to raise awareness and funds for foster kids (through the Pyjama Foundation).

If you’d like to have the best excuse ever to chuck on your PJs in the middle of the day too, then just do it! You can donate here if you like 🙂

Happy Friday!

Are you wearing your PJs too? Do you have any silly Friday traditions? What are your pyjama preferences? 

The evolution of my relationship with make-up.

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I have spent most of the past two weeks make up free. Partly because I really didn’t get out much, partly laziness and also because towards the end of that period, I realised that my foundation had run out. I couldn’t tell because some of it was stuck up the insides of the bottle and I couldn’t see through it, to determine that I was running low. Damn, lying bottle of foundation.

My skin has been dry. Not flaky dry, but just parched. The pores on my nose have seen better days. God, I’m attractive.

Now, this has been a slightly dire situation, but I’ve found that the 31 year old me has handled it quite well. I got to thinking about how the teenaged/early 20s me would have dealt with this. And the answer is that she wouldn’t have. She would have been like, “Damn, Future Kez! You is cray cray! Never leave home again, you old woman! Your life is over! O.V.A.H.”

I realised that in the past couple of weeks, I have quite happily (probably) terrorised the local neighbourhood supermarket staff, one pharmacist, the Little Mister’s day care staff, and you know…all the people of Periscope (@KezUnprepared if you’re on there) with my bare faced antics. I have also lived in hoodies and slouchy pants (or worn gym stuff WITHOUT GOING ANYWHERE NEAR THE GYM). While, this does slightly concern me (especially the gym wear thing), I am kind of celebrating that at the age of 31 I have finally realised that I am OK no matter what is on my face/body (or isn’t)! Do I feel like a slob? Yeah…kinda. But is this new mindset still somehow a win? Definitely.

Gosh, the more I type, the more sexy I seem.

Of course, today I found an opportunity to get back to that all important self-care. I had a little post pay day spree. I bought new foundation, 2 kinds of BB cream (still looking for The One), some primer, pore strips, liquid eye liner (always waterproof) and some hydrating cream. Go me! I am excited to get back into the ritual of caring for my skin. I think that’s what’s so different from the teen/20s me. Now, it’s about maintenance and care. It’s about carving out those precious few moments each day to look after myself. It’s as much about the process of applying the stuff to my face as it is about what I might look like at the end of it.

20-something year old Kez (and earlier) was all about hiding. I had to hide all of my flaws. I had to make sure no-one found out what was underneath the make up! I would insist on applying it before I went for a swim, before I walked the dog down the street, and even…don’t judge…a subtle layer of foundation before a sporting activity. Definitely before a quick run to the local supermarket. If for some reason I could not wear make up one day, I would either stay in or walk very quickly with my head down, anxiety coursing through my veins until I was safely out of sight of the masses who would surely think I was a hideous beast.

“Oh, look at that creature! WHAT IS IT AND WHY IS IT IN PUBLIC? RUN!!!!!”

Ironically, my skin was beautiful throughout my 20s and I just didn’t appreciate it. It went to bed caked with make up ALL THE TIME. Yet it rarely dried out. It was flawless due to my religious use of the pill. Of course there were no wrinkles and very little sun damage (a topic for another time). I was also super skinny up until my late 20s and could wear ANYTHING. 20s me – what an ungrateful bitch!

31 year old me doesn’t have time for that shit. 31 year old me has too much other stuff to worry about. Like keeping my kid alive and worrying about whether I’m regular or not.

OLD.

Of course I do still have days when I scare myself as I look in the mirror. Days when I feel fat and frumpy. Times when I see what I’m wearing and think, “Geez. Get it together, woman!”

I am only human. Also, I do like to make myself pretty. I’m not about to ‘let myself go’ any time soon.

At some point, though, I must have finally come to the realisation that it’s not the end of the world if I don’t look completely polished all the time – the plain faced me is still kind of awesome.

What a relief!

And that new self confidence is thing #139374 that I like about getting older 🙂

What do you like about getting older? What is your relationship with make up like?