Tuesday, 24 September 2013

I'm a Mother not a Martyr.

I went to visit my work last week for a catchup and to touch base. While I was talking to a group of colleagues the question of when I was going back to work and if I was coming back full time came up. I said I was coming back in June and definitely full time as I'm not cut out to be a stay-at-home-mum, I need to work to save my sanity, or something along those lines. One of them a part-timer mother of two said jokingly, "Oh so you're thinking of yourself first." "Well, yes, someone has to" was my reply. She then said "that's okay, you're just being honest."

Being a stay-at-home-mum is not going to make me a better mother or a better person. Kudos to SAHMs, it's freaking hard work. That aside, I love working and I love my job. It enriches my life and I get joy and satisfaction out of it. To deny myself that will make be bitter and resentful, not the sort of mother that anyone would want. It doesn't mean I love my children any less than the next mother. As for going back to full time work as opposed to part-time, well I don't like job sharing and I know I'll end up doing work on my days off anyway, so I might as well get paid for it. I will give up every organ I have for my children but naturally I won't if I don't have to as I need them to live fully. Same with work.

Did I say any of that? No. Did I feel the need to justify myself? Definitely not. There are very few people whose personal opinion of me matters. My husband and children and maybe my parents and brothers but they love me no matter what anyway.

My colleague's comment about thinking of myself first really just got me thinking but what really annoyed me was when she said that's okay I'm just being honest. I found that incredibly patronising. Anyway, I let it all go. I might need her for something when I go back to work and it's easier to get people to do what you want when you haven't pissed them off.

Anyway, photo time.

During my morning walk.

After my morning walk

Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Mother of One at a Time.

Oh. My. Goodness. What a week I had last week. Bubby was sick so he was at home for the whole week. He is a good kid but 24 hours seven eight days straight, and one of those days was literally 21 hours because his cough was so bad he didn't sleep until 3 am, was quite a challenge to my sanity. Juggling two kids is a skill that I do not possess. Don't get me wrong, being a mother of two is nice but it would be so much easier if I were a mother of one a time.

Bubby looks sick here but I had to force him to take a bed rest by bribing him with TV. Otherwise, he'd be running around like a lunatic.

That is a Royal Doulton lamp that he's used as a basketball hoop. I'm surprised he got the ball in.

One good thing about having Bubby home is the two boys can bond. Here he joins Chububby for tummy time.

Bubby's first day back at daycare and I treated myself to breakfast. Well, it's more like I didn't realise that I haven't had breakfast until after I've dropped him off and I was positively ravenous. Nice view of the water pity about the crappy weather.

Essie was on sale at Priceline so I got Sugar Daddy. I really quite like it. It goes on nicely and not streaky at all. It's better and cheaper than OPI.

I like the natural pink shade. It's been four days and it's still going strong.

Today I watched this documentary:
It's about what upper middle class New Yorkers do to get their kids into preschool. It's unbelievable. And I thought places for preschool are competitive here in Sydney. Nevertheless, it prompted me to get on with the pile of application forms for schools for Chububby. Fun.

Thursday, 5 September 2013

Double Ds.

Dancing and dessert, not the usual kind of double Ds.

Yesterday, I was stuck in traffic because the news on the radio said that the Harbour Tunnel was closed so I was forced to take the Bridge. I and everyone else coming from the North Shore apparently also listened to the radio because the traffic was backed up all the way to the Warringah Freeway. And you know, what the Tunnel wasn't even closed. I watched helplessly from my lane as the traffic to the tunnel just zoomed by. I should have just listened to the nursery rhymes CD instead of Kyle and Jackie O.

Anyway, the traffic made it too late for me to go for my walk so I just looked for exercise videos online. I first tried belly dancing but I just felt so silly and uncoordinated, sensual, it did not make me. Then I found this Bollywood Burn video.

The moves were quite fun so I dancercised my way to hopefully at least 1 cm off my waistline. 

I'm not a fan of exercising so I usually reward myself for having achieved it so this was my reward.

It's supposed to be low calories so I hope the dancing and dessert don't cancel each other out.

Monday, 2 September 2013

Setting the Pace. A Mr. Darcy Moment.

I've been going for a walk around Centennial Park once a week for four weeks now in the hope of melting away the last stubborn 5 kilos. I guess it's not really fair to say that they're stubborn as I haven't really done much physically in order to lose them. My walking buddy is 40+ weeks pregnant so we're not exactly setting a fat burning pace. Seeing as her baby is still slow cooking we're not setting a labour inducing pace either much to my friend's dismay. Today, I walked solo (no, my friend hasn't popped but she went to yoga instead) and did the 3.6 km circuit in 40 minutes. I like to think of it as setting a realistic bar to beat for next time but really I'm just unfit. I couldn't even keep up with an old guy walking his dog. Well, he's not pushing a pram is he? Never mind that it's the lightest pram you can buy.

Anyway, I thought I'd walk like I mean it and look like I mean it as well.

The offending mid-fat pouch/ baby cushion. I get that the baby needs cushioning around the belly but seriously, do the hips and thighs need cushioning too? The arms and face are a little bit padded as well. I felt like Humpty Dumpty when I was pregnant. I'd love to rollerblade but I don't know how safe it is while pushing a pram. I don't want a runaway pram in case I fall.

It might also help my cause if I didn't precede my walk with this.

So, while I was walking on my own I got the chance to absorb my surroundings and Centennial Park really is such an idyllic place. I've only walked the perimeter of the park and there's so much more in it. I'd love to do the self-guided walks one day. I passed by this lake which is one of many.

Suddenly, I had a Mr Darcy moment (you know the one, when he jumps into the lake at Pemberly, of course you know what I'm talking about). No, I didn't jump in the lake in my breeches but it made me want to watch P & P again. Bubby is at daycare and Chububby is asleep, I guess now is my chance. While I fold a mountain of clothes and iron some. My days of watching TV with my feet up are well and truly over.