These are my people. Even the toddler.

Yesterday I turned 36.

Ok.  I’m cool, just had to let that sink in for a minute.

Having 2 kids with an 8.5 year age gap means that the four of us often go in different directions. If Ethan has a rugby game and it’s pouring with rain, either Dave or I will stay home with Nix. When I depart to deliver E to pool training, battling rush hour traffic on Lincoln Rd, Nixon will stay at home with Mum.  If there are errands to run or events to go to at nap time, one of us hits the road and the other stays home with bubs.  This is how we roll.  But it kinda sucks.  Going places as a family is kinda the point of having, you know, FAMILY.

So yesterday Dave was hounding me all day about what I wanted to do for my birthday dinner.  My lazy-girl inclinations were screaming fush ‘n chips however my birthday girl sensibilities won and I suggested taking Ethan out to eat with Dave and I. I know no-one believes me when I try and explain why taking Nixon to a restaurant doesn’t immediately spring to mind as one of my Top 5 things to do on my birthday, so I won’t even go there.  All I will say is that it is very, V E R Y stressful.

My limited birthday dinner guest list was overruled by Dave and we headed out to eat at The Flying Burrito Brothers with Ethan, my Mum and Nixon in tow.  < I highly recommend TFBB as a kid friendly place to eat, they have high chairs and the food comes out quick! >

Thank goodness!  How wonderful it was to sit down with my favourite people in the world and share great food and appreciate just how lucky we are to have each other.  I’m pretty sure the other diners weren’t all up the good vibes but hey-ho, ’twas ma birthday bitches and I’ll bring my cray-cray 22 month behemoth out to eat if I feel like it!  And, I think I’ll start doing it more often as well.

Dave and I ate out all the time when Ethan was a baby and toddler.  We were living in San Diego at the time and food was cheap plus, Ethan was a very different child to Nixon.  Nix struggles to remain in his high-chair at home for the duration of a meal, so expecting him to do so in the new/exciting environment of a restaurant where there are people to woo, nooks and crannies to explore and food to steal off of every table is laughable.  

But laugh we did.  Our reservation was for 6pm and we were in the car and on the way home by 7pm!  Bam.  I’m not going to lie.  I found it fever pitch stressful, it felt like we were running the amazing race, hurtling towards the next food drop, hoping it would arrive before Nixon lost his shit and rappelled from the high chair.  But we were together on my birthday.  I may not have eaten much of the avocado salsa before Nix commandeered it for his own high chair entree but I enjoyed my shrimp fajitas and my delicious glass of wine and most of all I enjoyed my people.  Being out in public, as a family, with all of my people.  Even the littlest one xx

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The lost art of “getting shit done”

Today I crossed one task off my to-do list and added 4 more.

One.

The tasks on my list are not even that onerous or time consuming.  They simply require my undivided attention for a small period of time.  Therein lies the conflict.

Nixon is also small but requires my undivided attention ALL of the time.  Resisting the yellow-haired dictator results in tantrum after tantrum and much headbanging on floors and walls – I am actually counting the seconds until this precious phase is over, as a legitimate, albeit self-inflicted ‘boo-boo’ drags a tantrum into a whole new level of pain, for both of us!

The confounding truth about parenting a toddler is that change is constant.  What is working perfectly for us on Monday defies all laws of reason on Tuesday.  I had us settled into a great morning routine which allowed me a small window – measured by Peppa & George Pig – to sit down, reply to some emails, edit some photos etc, maybe do some paid work {WTH!} or at the very least attend to some yawny household admin like re-registering my truck, changing electricity providers or just cleaning up the damn place!  This week, Peppa has lost her mojo and she’s taken mine with her.

Everything I do manage to get done has a price.  The vacuuming gets done because the tupperware drawers have been emptied.  I get to brush my hair because Nix is throwing the contents of my bedside drawers out of the window {brushing my hair takes a L O N G time btw}.  The laundry gets hung on the line while the three dog bowls are hidden in the garden.  If you don’t laugh you cry right?

I’ve got to lower my standards a bit otherwise Nix and I never get out of the house, which isn’t healthy for either of us and buying in to the cycle of cleaning constantly with a toddler on the loose is a recipe for madness I’m sure.  We have decided that painting our new skirting boards whilst Nix is still crashing ‘vacuuming’ with his wooden trolley and racing his plastic motorbike through the house is an exercise in futility.  I’m going to try and apply this sort of pragmatic thinking to my days as a SAHM in general.  

Nap time is pretty solid right now, 1-3.30, Ethan gets home at around 2.45pm so I have 1 hour and 45 minutes to sit, think and do.  And by do, I don’t mean housework – that shit never ends and no-one really cares if the laundry is put away on Wednesday or Thursday do they?  So, welcome to my new ‘ME’ time.  So far I have shopped online for a new pair of Nike Roshe, text a friend and I’m going to finish writing this blog post after only beginning it last night!  Miracles occur every day apparently and this, my friends, is one of them.

If you have any tips for finding your daily rhythm, I’m all ears because I feel like I’m floundering in a never-ending groundhog day – or is that just how all mothers feel?

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