Poor Broggers!

I was close to tears this morning when I heard what happened to John Brogden overnight.
For those who don't know what the hell I'm going on about, I'll do a quick re-cap.
John Brogden - MP for Pittwater and State Liberal Opposition Leader resigned on Monday after it was revealed he called Former Labor Premier Bob Carr's Malaysian born wife Helena a ''Mail Order Bride'' at a boozy night where a number of Journalists were in attendance.
NOW, I'm not excusing him or agreeing with his distateful comments - he puts it down as a stupid joke of sorts - but I honestly felt sorry for him because I know his whole political career is now DEAD.
He was stupid, naive and a complete idiot. He resigned and left the door open for Fatty O'Barrell ooops sorry Barry O'Farrell ( who has now pulled out of the race) and cardboard cut-out Peter Debnam (he really is very cardboardy looking) to take the reigns.
This morning it was revealed he tried to top himself over the scandal.
John, what did you do???
I can personally say that - with my political views aside - Broggers is a likeable, decent bloke.
I dealt with him on a nearly daily basis in my Journo days when I worked at the Manly Daily and as young, ambitious guy who has worked his whole life to get to where he is, I admired his forthrightness and ambition. He does have a familiarity with journalists so I disregard the sexual harassment claims (I'm not calling anyone a liar but some journos do have a penchant for BEATING UP a story). I was pregnant with Tara at the same time his wife Lucy was with their son and Broggers always had a nice word to say to me and asked how I was coming along.
I really, really wish him a speedy recovery and hope he has the drive and faith to overcome this seemingly insurmountable obstacle.
And for those vulture-journos camped outside Royal North Shore Hospital, (I wouldn't put it past some to dress up as an orderly to get closer to him) leave the poor bugger alone.
That said, I know that if I was still working at the local paper, I would have been at RNSH in a lickety-split.
I'm digging myself in a hole here! I'm not meaning to sound contradictory, but there are journalist (e.g the Current Affair type) and then there are Journalists (e.g like me who are moral, seek the truth and want to write a great, newsworthy story)

Get well Broggers!!

It's been a month????

FFFFFAAAAARRRRRKKKKKKK!
I can't believe it's been a month since I blogged! Well, let's see if I can get you all up to speed.
Tara's Mum's Last Month.
I have:
Changed nappies: 300 times
Breastfed: 500 times
Cooked dinner 30 times
Had food thrown at me by Tara: 220 times
Been thrown up on: 1000 times
Burst into tear: 50 times
Headache: 150 times
Laundry: never ending
Picked toys up: 30000000 times
and slept a total of
FIVE HOURS
on top of all this, I have had to endure that bloody, annoying Hi 5 dvd Tara loves three times a day, every day! It has seriously affected my brain, so much so that i sing the songs in my head while doing the dishes, shaving my legs and even cooking. I REALLY, REALLY hate HI 5.

Tara needs to get her chicken pox vaccination tomorrow - the hubby is taking her before work. I hate seeing my girls cop needles, and it's going to be worse than usual because Tara is much older (the last was when she was 12 months) and so much more aware.
She's still driving me crazy with her eating. Would you believe in church today, she picked up a crusty old biscuit from the floor and put it straight in her mouth!! I nearly had a heart seizure. Maybe I should just chuck all her food on my (scrubbed) floor and let her eat it from there.
Today, I put Eden in a tracksuit Tara wore when she was 5 months old - Eden's nearly 3 months old. She's such a michellin baby, I l love the rolls!

Not much to write about

What a boring post this is going to be. But, I have logged onto the net so I might aswell post.
Have done the laundry, the girls are having their avo naps and I'm heading off to my sisters to see my gorgeous niece.
That's about it.
hmmmm
OH, by the way, I have noticed that I have never written a post about my love for the ever amazing Prince. I will soon. I hope my girls have the same love for him and his music when they grow up. When I was pregnant with Tara I went to his fab concert and I always played his music to both girls when they were in utero. Often, Tara and I put on his DVD of music videos and dance around hysterically in the loungeroom - our own mini Prince concerts.
I think our downstairs neighbours hate me.
HE HE HE

Welcome to the Dawn

It's a girl!

MY SISTER HAD A GIRL!
Not only am I super excited for her - she has three gorgeous boys, but I finally have a niece! She is absolutely stunning. I know she will be wearing a lot of hand-me-downs from my girls. As a matter of fact, I have already passed on a few things from Eden - she's such a chubber and has already outgrown a number of clothes.
Ahhhh, I can't wait to see her again. I'm so proud of my sis!
What's really exciting is my girls will have a cousin so close to their ages that they will grow up together, be best friends (hopefully) and have each other to lean on.
I'm getting teary .... school formals, birthday parties, boyfriends, weddings. Okay, I'm jumping ahead of myself just a tad.
It's the hormones.

Ed Phillips - that cheesy grin!

Lets see if I pass the audition

What a hectic week!
I've been on tenderhooks this past seven days waiting for my sister to pop out baby number four. I'm more nervous for her than I was for myself. This time will be different though because while I was present at her other three labours, I won't be this time because my little Eden is still too little to leave for any extended period of time with my husband - he hasn't got boobs to breastfeed her. I feel so sorry for my sis as her labours are always pretty horrendous and it was pretty scary with baby number three. Also she's been having contractions since she was 7 months prego and been hospitalised four times with false alarms.
ANYWAY
As you might have read in a previous post, I was wondering if I should attempt to get onto Temptation. Well guess what? I'm going for an audition in the next couple of weeks! I hope I pass. Could you imagine if I do get on? I swear, if I do, and I really stink, I'm going to bomb out BIG TIME. I'll just buzz and answer really badly and hopefully I can be the first to get into negative figures. he he he he
I must run as I can hear the baby stirring and it seems that Tara has done a stinky bog.
Delightful.

Don't they look similar?

Eden at 5 weeks

I was going through some pictures of Tara when she a newborn and I just couldn't get over just how similar Eden looks at the same age. While Edee is a lot chubbier, has a smaller nose and a larger mouth, you could almost pass these two pictures off as the same baby!
I love my girls!!! ohhh shucks.

Tara at 7 weeks

What do you do when your baby eats their own poo?

I am by nature a very squeamish person.
Not only am I a sympathetic vomiter - an unfortunate trait I have inherited from my mum - (why couldn't I have inherited her stunning looks?) public toilets, a range of smells, hairy backs, raw eggs and many other things turn my tum. Imagine my horror as I saw my beautiful Tara eat her own poo! Let me paint a picture. Do not read on if you too are squeamish.
I had been up all night with the mother of all migraines. My husband had tried unsuccessfully to settle Eden who was having trouble doing a poo. At 5.30am, Eden decided to do her poo. It seeped through her nappy, singlet, body suit, pyjamas and blanket. Now, as I explained earlier, I had a really bad migraine, the pain of which made me vomit my guts up. Facing this sticky, green goo, I proceeded to hurl again - but I had no choice but to change the baby who by now was screeching at the top of her lungs. ( She hates being undressed). This ear piercing scream inturn woke up Tara who needs no excuse to join us all in bed. With four in the bed, my husband in a foul mood and my migraine, it wasn't the best of nights. Anyway, to get back to the subject of this blog. A few hours later, and feeling like I had been 15 rounds with Kostya, with half closed eyes, I had to change Tara's nappy. As I reached down to grab the wipes, she stuck her fingers in the khaki mess and before I could stop her, stuck her finger in her mouth. There was a big blob of poo stuck to her front teeth. At this point I started dry retching. I was torn between washing her mouth out or running to the toilet to puke. Now, you would think that if you ate your own excrement, you would automatically chuck up, but the little bugger thought it was the funniest thing in her life. I wish someone would explain to me how it takes me hours sometimes to force delicious food in her gob, but she happily eats her own shit!

This was by far the most disgusting thing I have so far experienced as a mother.
The joys of motherhood.

My head pounds, baby just woke, gotta run.

I thought it was about time I posted some pictures

The new bub Eden

Cheeky Tara

How tempting is Temptation?

I've always been a fan of Sale Of The Century. My dad would sit the three of us girls down at 7pm (or was it 7.30pm?) to watch some educational TV. As mum was out working the nightshift - and didn't really like us watching TV when we should have been doing our homework - dad rationalised this half hour of TV because ``we could learn something.'' I don't know how he rationalised us watching Prisoner though. We were only 11, 9 and 7 years old. I still get tears in my eyes when I think of that sad, sad theme song, ''He used to bring me roses, I wish he would again...... I can still remember how Prisoner would end at 9.30pm - our bed time- and we would bolt to bed before mum came through the door at 9.35pm. I suppose it gave dad a bit of respite from three hypo girls, who bickered all the time, until mum came home and he could pass the parental responsibilities on to her. Poor mum.

Anyway, that aside, there was one rule while watching Sale. We weren't allowed to talk through the whole show. We had to sit in front of the TV and digest the precious jewels of knowledge from the ever effervescent Tony Barber (every wog loved him) and admire the puffed-up shoulder padded Delvine Delaney hoping to one day emulate her perfectly teased up hair. Imagine my excitement at the return of this cult show. At 7pm for the last 2 weeks, I've turned into my dad and demanded absolute silence from my husband, toddler and baby during the 30 minutes of Temptation - the new Sale of the Century. I actually revel in showing off to my husband my prowess at answering questions correctly. He just humours me. I know the questions aren't that hard and it's all about timing, but I reckon if I went on, I'd give it a fair shot. The host, Ed would shit me badly though. He has this cheesy Cheshire cat full toothed, thin lipped smile. It's actually quite revolting. Make sure to check it out. I'm afraid if I ever went on, his smile/grimace would put me off and I would leave the show with minus 50 points.

But it's not just Sale that gets my motor running. I get the same way during Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. I scream at the TV and remind my husband repeatedly just how smart I am ( when I get the questions right).

While I'm on the subject of game shows, I have a confession to make. I have actually been on one. It's quite embarrassing cause I bombed - but not because I didn't know the answers, but because I couldn't see the stupid monitor. For vanities sake, I didn't wear my glasses and therefore looked like a stunned mullet in my hot pink fluffy jumper. By the way, it was BURGO's Catchphrase. If you have any doubts that this fake haired, fake tanned plasticine faced man is a complete and utter tool, I can rest your doubts aside. His fake laugh and horrible head still give me nightmare. Shudder. But, it wasn't a complete waste of time, I walked away with $420 bucks and a holiday in Byron Bay.

The other show I'm really into at the moment is Ready, Steady Cook. Tara can't wait for it every day and has learned to say Ready, Steady Cook, it's really cute. There is one thing that shits me about it, and that again is the host. He does this pansy-assed jog when he comes out and while talking to the two chefs throughout the show. I would still love to be a contestant though, especially if they team me up with chef Carol Selva Rajah who is my former high school science teacher!
Is there a pattern here? I have a problem with all game show hosts???

I'm feeling queasy now - just eaten a small box of Guylian sea shell chocolates. I love these as much as Ferrero Rochers. Who doesn't?

Does anyone think I should apply to be a contestant on Sale? What do you all think?
See ya

Why can't he ever pick a DVD I like?

Last night, I sent out the husband to get Finding Neverland from the local rental store. He was with his mate, so I was specific about what I wanted to watch. I knew that if I gave them free reign they would come back with a pathetic movie which would feature: 1) skinny, scantily clothed chics, cars and a stupid/non-existent movie line. As I expected, as soon as he got to Blockbuster, I got a phone call. ''They're all out of Finding Neverland.'' Great, my Johnny Depp -aka the sexiest man on earth -fantasies would have to be put on hold for yet another night. ''Okay then babe, just pick up any romantic comedy, but be quick,'' I said.

10 minutes later, armed with pizza and a bottle of sprite, the boys presented me with the movie of the night.

''TAXI

Good guys. Bad Girls, Hot Ride.''

I seriously should be a mind reader. I just looked at them with an ultra pained look on my face. ''This is the movie you pick?? How well do you know me? Do you honestly think I would want to watch this? It sounds like the title of a porno.'' His excuse? There was nothing left. I seriously doubt that from the thousands of movies in the store, this was the only one left. Anyway, I emphatically announced I wasn't going to waste me time watching this crap - but seeing the hurt look on my husband's face, I thought I'd give it a shot.

I lasted about 20 minutes. It was so crap.

Anyway, I was so bored I flicked through the blockbuster magazine and came across an ad for Million Dollar Baby. Now there's a movie I really want to watch. Looking at the picture of Hillary Swank decked out in her crop top, boxing shorts, gloves with her hair in braids I had a flashback to my kickboxing days. I'm not sure if I have mentioned it before, but I used to train at the local PCYC up tp 7 times a week. I've had a number of competitive fights, (called full contact martial arts tournaments because Kickboxing is illegal for women to compete in in NSW - more on this later) won a couple of trophies and was pretty damn good. I've also broken a number of bones, but remarkably never the nose. God I miss it. I really want to get back into it, not competitively, just to get fit and feel strong again. I'd love to train my daughters when they are older as it is so empowering.

Better get some shut eye before Eden starts squirming for a booby-feed

Nighty-nite.

Ferrero Rochers are so delicious

You know what it's like when you've eaten a really big Thai meal. The salty, sweet, hot and sour flavours are all blended beautifully creating the perfect taste sensation in your mouth. But then, not soon after, you really crave something choclately. Maybe it's just me, and maybe it's just that I'm breastfeeding, but after our thai takeaway last night, I just couldn't help myself. Not one, or two or even a piggy 3, but 8 Ferrero Rocher's later and I was satiated. Thanks to my friends who brought chocolates to the hospital, I have about another three weeks supply of these delectable little nutellar-ly treats - not to mention the exquisite Lindt balls and the hand made fruit-jellies imported from England from my favourite hairdresser uncle (who also gave me a stunning hand cross bred bright purple potted orchid). Anyway, this is the ONLY time in a women's life when eating chocolates in such a gluttonous way is not automatically followed by a shameful bout of guilt. Using breastfeeding as an excuse is great because no way can call you a pig for fear of the aforementioned glutton delving into post-natal depression. The way I see it is that for the last 9 months I have had to endure kicks, punches, incontinence, heartburn and ugly maternity clothes - not to mention the roadmap of stretchmarks - so if I want to eat 8 ferreros or even 25 lindt balls, I'm gonna do it.
There is a downside to breastfeeding.
While I have lost over 10 kilo's in just over a week, (so the baby, placenta and waters weighed about that much, who am I kidding??) but you really have to watch some foods. For instance; Pepsi. I love this beautifully carbonated, sugar infused cola drink. But, I have to limit myself to about half a glass a day or else the bub will be up all night high on caffeine. Mustard/mustard pickles. If I eat this, the little critter will have terrible wind and I will be up all night with her, massaging her tummy until she farts like a trooper. More on baby farts later. Alcohol. In my case champagne and baileys. I have not had a drink since the night we conceived Tara and I don't envisage having a drop for atleast another year. But, that's okay, there's always that sparkling apple juice stuff from Coles my husband gets me when I crave champagne. Sad, I know.
Both girls are sleeping at the moment - a miracle I know. Tara had her first temper tantrum at the bub today and threw her bottle at Eden. Lucky, I have quick reflexes and it just touched her lip.
My hubby has cleaned the house and has just headed off to the gym so I have these few minutes to myself. I'm actually waiting on a courier to deliver something from my sis in NY - I hope its more chocolates.
Oh no, one is up
gotta run

Okay, so Eden woke up for a little refreshment and is snuggled in the crook of my neck. I love that baby smell!


Anyway, on a more serious note, the house fire at Wyong.
I was literally crying buckets at the thought of those little children perishing in that inferno. That image of them stuck on the balcony, screaming out in fear and then no-one coming to their help makes me so angry.
WHERE THE FUCK WAS THEIR STUPID FUCKING MOTHER?????
Out drinking, having a good time with her boyfriend (not one of the fathers of one of her children that perished). Lord, I have no right to judge BUT it's hard not to. I apologise to any of my readers who live on the central Coast (Sydney), but it's women like this who perpetrate the stereotype of irresponsible single mothers on the pension who live on the central coast who have children by a number of different men.
Why shouldn't this woman be tried for manslaughter? The youngest was only 15 months old. Totally unconscionable. How dare she live out her life in comfort, she should pay. I don't care what the excuse was ``we thought the baby sitter was there" they were your children, your responsibility. It makes me sick, angry, sad, heartbroken. It's just not fair.
Would love to hear anyone else's view.
May you all live 2 C the dawn

Two beautiful girls!!

A beautiful, perfect healthy little girl graced our little trio and transformed it into an awesome foursome. Little Eden decided to enter the world last Thursday morning at 6.36am making me so unbelievably overjoyed and feeling so amazingly blessed.
But, I tell you, it was lucky I decided to go to the hospital at all, or else she could have been born in my little hatchback. Don't hate me all those women out there that labour for hours, days and go through excruciating pain. Eden was born very quickly and, without sounding like a Christian zealot, it was through the grace of God and the Virgin Mary that it happened so quickly, so perfectly - I'm very lucky.
Now, don't get me wrong, it was no walk in the park, but the pain was bearable - just. But, I'd gladly go through it all again for Eden, Tara and any other children in the future.
Its weird. I never thought I could ever love anyone as much as Tara. I was actually in tears at the hospital when my hubby took Tara home as I felt as if I was abandoning her. Up until that night, I had never spent a night apart from my baby girl. She couldn't really care less - she just wanted to get home, twirl around in circles (her new thing) and yell out ``daddy, daddy, daddy'' over and over and over and over again. Its hilarious actually, she gets really dizzy and topples over. So cute.
As for Eden, she so pretty, beautiful in fact. With a full head of dark hair - even more than Tara when she was born, she looks like a little doll. Her cheeks are punctured with two deep dimples, her eyes are long and almond-shaped and her perfect pout is purely kissable. I should really post a pic. I'm completely enraptured, besotted, in love with her. Its amazing the depth of a mother's love.
Now that I've been home for a couple of days and have unpacked, done laundry and had no sleep, I've had an epiphany. Next time I visit a friend or family member in the hospital whose had a baby, I'm not going to buy anything for the baby, I'm going to buy something for the mum. You always get flowers, chocolates and incy-wincy baby clothes, but what a new mum would really love is a basket of little luxuries. For instance: really nice perfume, bubble bath, lipstick, a face mask to get rid of the ``I-look-like-death-warmed-up'', stuff like that. Not that I'm not appreciative to all my family and friends who bought us gifts, but I have baby blankets and bibs coming out of my ears!!!
Anyway, I'd better run. Both little bubs are having a nap, which won't last long, so I'd better peel off these Elmo P'J's, brush my teeth and write up a shopping list for my hubby.

Have you ever noticed how little traffic there is at 3.11am?

If I ever go back to paid work, I will look for something where I am working the night/early morning shift. Why you may ask? Well, in my hazy state of semi-consciousness in the wee hours of this morning, a glimmer of lucidity hit me. It's not all that bad being up at 3am and driving on the roads. There is no pollution, no getting the finger and no traffic. However, one must remember that this thought came to me after trying unsuccessfully for hours to put my toddler to sleep, myself completely sleep deprived and , oh yeah, being very heavily pregnant. So, I really wouldn't put much weight to this thought.

There was one sobering thought however. My husband hasn't decided to divorce me. Either he loves me quite a lot, or he has escaped to Bermuda and will not be returning tonight.I say this because if anyone had seen the state I looked in at 3am, 4am, 5am, 6am, and 10am this morning, they would have got a very big fright - and I'm not exaggerating. Picture a beached whale with Fraggle hair, unable to open sleep-encrusted eyes singing ``Five little ducks went out one day'' very off key wearing the most attractive maternity underwear (aka my husbands jocks which he put on me because I have lost the ability to dress myself. Anyway, my munchkin fell asleep last night about 10pm okay I thought to myself as I hankered down to read the latest Reader's Digest. 11.30pm and WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. To make a long story short, by 3.11am I thought I'd better try the night-time drive before I pull all my hair out. I was Cra-ghing (cry-laughing) as I watched my hypo-baby stand in the middle of my bed, swivel her hips (yes, she swivels!) curls bouncing everywhere yelling "Dance, dance dance" over, and over and over again.
It was sort of funny, but not really.

Anyhow, she is totally enthralled with Playschool at the moment - my 28 minutes of respite. Soon, however, I'm going to have to take her out before she demands I turn the stereo on and dance around.

I hope you all enjoy sleeping tonight. Now I totally understand how Chinese sleep-deprivation torture actually leads to insanity. I'm developing a weird tick.

yawn.

25 Days left and counting

Now, I know it has been like MONTHS since my last post, but really I can sum it all up in one word.
TIRED!!!
The only reason I am actually blogging right now is because my beautiful, thoughtful husband got me a lap top with wireless connection for Mother's Day. I used to poo-poo this fake holiday (it falls into the same category as Halloween and St Valentine's Day), I now think its a great day and am already looking forward to next year for an even more extravagant present.
Quick update on the light-of-my-life AKA my daughter. She's is running around and has a vocabulary of nearly 30 words. Very clever indeed. The running around is a bit scary sometimes, though, as I discovered last Friday night when, for no apparent reason she decided to run hell for leather straight into a concrete wall. I was watching her do it but was helpless to stop it. It was freaky how - as soon as she bounced off the wall, a little bright blue dot appeared on her forehead that, before my very eyes, grew to the size of an egg. I was home alone and freaked and tried to hold an ice pack on my hysterical baby's head - without much luck. Anyway, today the bump nearly non-existent and the bruise has turned a highlighter green. Lovely.

Now, to my impending delivery due date. While it is rapidly approaching, I CAN'T WAIT. These are the main reasons why.
1) I fucken hate maternity clothes. They are ugly, expensive and all in boring colours.
2) I can't wait to take a deep, long breath.
3) I'm sick of going to the toilet every 30 minutes.
4) My back hurts.
5) All my ligaments hurt.
6) I'm sick of people guessing what sex the baby will be based on how big my ass is.

But, the best reason is I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THIS BABY. I'm really excited and feel so blessed. Ohhhhhh.

Time to get some sleep. (sleep? What's that again???) My little toddler is in the land of nod, and I just know that as soon as I doze, she will be calling out MAMA DADDDDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
Ahh, the joys!

Birthday girl with her dad

Happy Birthday my baby!

WOW! Where has the year gone? My little munchkin is one today and I just can't belive it! I know every parent must say this, but it has gone past way too quickly.

A year ago today I was in a very short, (thank God) labour. Excruciating pain followed by the most surreal, indescribable rush of emotions. The first time I gazed onto her tiny face, I fell instantly in love. I'm so grateful for her and thank God every day for we are truly blessed to have her. Owwwww!!!!

Now don't get me wrong, ther ehave been some very hairy moments. Let me recall just few. Runny poos, not wanting to sleep, chasing her around the house in an atempt to feeed her and, the beauty, having her vomit in my mouth.

But, the fanatstic times outweigh all of these times a million to one. Her first feed, smile and the first time she said MAMA. Crawling, standing and being enthralled by the sound of the washing machine.

The scariest thing, however, is that within a blink of an eye, my baby will have a brother or sister. Three months and counting! This is the main reason I haven;t blogged in so long. I'm exhausted and getting bigger every minute. I can't wait! I just hope everything goes well and this little baby is healthy.

Well, I must run. I have a cake to buy. I'm hoping to blog again soon. Sorry readers.

Happy 1st Birthday!