Blog -

Slow Down Sunday

June 21, 2015
By: Melissa

Dave has taken the boys out this morning so I returned home from boot camp to a very rare, empty house.

And I don’t know what to do with myself!

This hasn’t been the best week, but not the worst either. I’ve been a bit shouty {at Ethan}, I’ve been a bit tearful {in front of the whole rugby team, the SHAME}, I’ve been quite forgetful {where did I put that envelope full of other peoples money again?} and I let my confidence take a hit for no good reason.

The good news is that Nixon is well! He’s finished antibiotics so that’s one less thing we have to battle with him over every day. We are on daily wash-outs for the next 5 weeks but we are settling into the rhythm of that and Dave and I are managing to do them on our own – in the hospital it took four of us because he was so distressed. So things are looking good, PLUS it’s been seven days since anyone threw up in our house!!!

Magic.

Over the past couple of weeks I’ve been really mindful of where my time is going, as it seems I’m losing whole hours throughout the day. I want those hours back. Multi-tasking has killed my focus over the years (I’ve written about this before > Mummy Multi-tasking and the Demise of Productivity) and regrouping and getting my shit together is proving more difficult than I thought! Decreased productivity goes hand in hand with decreased motivation, and basically I’ve been attending to perceived ‘obligations’ here on the blog, prioritising those instead of my own, personal writing. Which is why we’re all here in the first place right?

Please bear with me as I try and get the balance right, both in my head, in my home and here on the blog.

We I made a big decision this week, which should help clear the cobwebs a little. Nixon is now enrolled in the most beautiful, local kindergarten for two half day sessions a week. He needs it. That is what I based my decision upon. I have a feeling Dave is not entirely happy about it, he said that Nix should be at home, he’s too little. The truth of the matter is, Nixon instantly felt ‘at home’ when we visited the kindy. He is a very social guy and I can’t give him the interaction he needs at home. I could have walked out after 5 minutes and left him in the capable hands of the staff there, he was that happy. He will begin in a couple of weeks after he turns 2, so we have time to prepare the household for the reintroduction of kindy-germs and illnesses – it’s been a long time!

So there we are, all caught up. Hope you’re having a wonderful weekend and let’s kick ass next week shall we? xx

Follow

Oh yeah. Hirschsprung’s is for life damnit.

June 13, 2015
By: Melissa

Friday, 12th June 10pm: I’m in my bed, eating the hell out of a packet of Lindor Balls. I just got out of the shower. A long shower into which I took my trés classy bourbon-in-a-can and sat on the floor. I didn’t cry, but I could have.

This week broke my baby.

{If you’re a new reader, and not sure about Nixon’s Hirschsprung’s Disease, these posts will fill you in > Nixon and Hirschsprung’s Disease, Last Night’s Hospital Dinner}.

There were a couple of factors contributing to our slow admission that there was something seriously wrong with Nixie this week;

He is teething hard out. His two year molars are mucking around and I blamed his diarrhoea and general lethargy and grumpiness on this.
Dave, Ethan and I were literally walloped with what we can only imagine was food poisoning on Monday night. The. Worst. Thing. Ever. You don’t need details. So, as you would, we assumed Nix had the same bug.

Wrong on both counts.

When he woke up in vomit on Wednesday morning and actually couldn’t do anything but lay on his side, barely able to even speak we rushed off to Starship, with my bags packed. I knew we would be staying and I instantly knew that he had enterocolitis – a Hirschsprung’s Kid’s nemesis.

After failing him for a week, I finally got something right. Surgeons from his operation last year came down to assess him in the ER and he was admitted fairly quickly. Not that we settled on the ward quickly. It took a gargantuan EIGHT HOURS to achieve that feat. We arrived at the ER at 8am, there was no-one else waiting and we were triaged and seen by the doctor very quickly. Once it was established Nix was going to need IV antibiotics and fluids the shit hit the fan.

Nix has good veins but also a good layer of fat hiding his veins. The doctor got a line in on first attempt after not too much hassle. Nix didn’t like it but that was to be expected. An hour or so into his fluid replacement a nurse arrived to administer his first dose of antibiotics. She noticed the IV had tissued and Nixon’s arm was rapidly swelling like a balloon because it was filled with maintenance fluids. Great.

Second attempt. Same doctor pincushions him in three separate spots, puts line in, pulls line out. Nix is being restrained by both Dave and I and two nurses while a play therapist tries to interest him in Thomas the Fucking Tank Engine while his eyes are rolling back in his head and he is screaming and thrashing like he’s possessed by the devil. In the middle of this another doctor runs in and says “lets give him some nitrous and see how that helps calm him down”.

Slightly better result. Nix isn’t speaking in tongues at least, same doctor gets line in and rapidly disappears. Nurse goes to administer antibiotics and can’t. Again. Doctor no-where to be found, new doctor takes over. End result achieved by rolling Nixon in a sheet and me pretty much lying on top of him crying my eyes out with Dave doing the same on his lower half and two nurses assisting. Play therapist gone back to playing, because quite frankly, this has gone WAY past the point of iPad intervention.

Absolutely the worst experience of my entire life, and I’m sure Nixon’s. Patients cannot go up to a ward without an IV in, and Nix needed those antibiotics mainlined quickly. X-rays earlier in the day showed his bowel was badly swollen, confirming Hirschsprung enterocolitis – a life-threatening complication of Hirschsprung disease resulting in a grossly enlarged colon, often followed by sepsis and shock.

This awful, awful series of events had rendered my sick, exhausted boy into a terrified little puddle, clinging to me for dear life. Signs of his severe anxiety grew over the course of our 3 day stay, culminating in diaper changes becoming a two man job as Nixon’s severe, thrashing, physical protests made it impossible for ether Dave or I to complete this once simple task on our own. When his bowel movements were as frequent as every 10 minutes you can imagine how emotionally and physically draining this was for all three of us.

The four hourly obs by the nurses elicited the same response. So does oral meds. You actually can’t even imagine the state twice daily rectal washouts leaves Nix in. Seeing my once bullet-proof-happy guy go through multiple hysteric episodes each day, is heartbreaking. I don’t know how to fix it.

We returned home this afternoon, with a shattered little boy. The visible distention in his belly is gone as well as other signs of untreated enter0colitis (which are too gross to bore you with!), so now it’s time to heal.

My Mum and Dave, who were both ill themselves, were amazing last week, holding things together at home for Ethan (who was also unwell!) and keeping things as normal as possible for all of us. I’m sure the dogs were very happy with their respite from Nixon, who loves them so much that he actually terrorizes them with the ferocity of his hugs, too bad suckers, he’s back.

It’s now Saturday at lunchtime and the promise of being at home has been tarnished by a morning of yelling and bitching at each other, frustration, hysterics and terrible behaviour from Nixon (totally understandable, but so hard to deal with) and just trying to get back on an even keel when it feels like we’ve lost an entire week. Nix slept all night – so did I, and is showing signs of improvement today. The nurse on the surgical ward sent us home with exactly the right amount of supplies for today and Sunday, not a ml of saline to spare and the home help nurse said the supplies we need are out of stock so we won’t receive them until mid-week. That’s the next battle. Just keep swimming. just keep swimming………

Thank you for all of your love, it is so appreciated xx

Follow

Out of the house.

June 5, 2015
By: Melissa

Truth: I’m not a social mama. I don’t have playdates scheduled weeks in advance, Nix doesn’t have a massive gang of toddler mates, we don’t do coffees at the mall, go to baby gym or playgroup. This suits me just fine but if I’m honest, it’s not the best for Nixon. It’s pretty easy for me to get very caught up in the ‘routine’, the chores, Ethan’s big kid stuff and my self-imposed blog deadlines (I work every nap time and every night once the kids go to bed until around 11.30). Nix is anything but mellow, but if we’re talking second child stereotypes, then I have to say, he’s getting a bit of a raw deal at the moment.

Cool your jets for a second. He’s not ‘neglected’ in any way, I just haven’t been going out of my way to plan many, ok, any Nixie-specific activities or outings during the week. Enter all the mummy-guilt feels.

So this morning I did something I should have done a long time ago. Nixon and I went to Mainly Music. It sounds like no big thing right? Ethan and I attended our local Mainly Music religiously every week for three years when he was a pre-schooler. I loved it. He loved it and we made best friends with a Mummy/Daughter duo whom I still love dearly to this day. So I have very fond memories of my virgin outing at MM all those years ago.

Last year Nix and I headed off to our local chapter and I was so disappointed. It wasn’t at all as I remembered, the Mums weren’t really in to it, the leader wasn’t really in to it and I left just feeling awkward and vowing never to return. Well, that’s the end of that I thought.

But with spirits bolstered, I set off this morning to a different suburban church, full of resolve and a smile on my dial, ready to do the damn thing.

And. It was awesome. Nix and I both had a great time, the Mums and kids there seemed friendly, fun and welcoming.

I saw you, Mum-with-the-wet-hair, who had just managed to scramble out of the shower and into the car. I waved at you (in my head) and thought, that will be me 9/10 times I go, because who has time for a blow dry right? I saw you, Mum-on-your-phone, and thought how nice it was that you could just sit and relax for 5 minutes in PEACE while your kid was super happy and playing with one of the church Nana’s blowing bubbles. I smiled at you (in my head) and thought, I know how you feel, those chairs look super comfy, one day I’ll join you and we can quietly play Candy Crush side-by-side in an unspoken gesture of solidarity against being up our kids asses 24-7. “Let them play!” we’ll say. And we might be friends. I hope.

I’m going back dammit. I’m going to go to Mainly Music every week, and I’m going to shake my sillies out, sing Skinnimarinkidinkydink, march like a majorette and I’m going to make friends with Mum-with-the-wet-hair and Mum-on-her-phone, they won’t even see it coming………………..HELLO, HI? I’M MELISSA!!

Follow

Some weeks. This week.

May 29, 2015
By: Melissa

Some weeks are just weird. A veritable whirlwind of accidents, events, chaotic scheduling, driving, rushing. This week, like so many recently, was the epitome of busy. I look back and can’t think of the cuddly, sweet moments with Nixon that were surely there right (right?!!). I can’t think of laughing and hanging out with Ethan, because, well, we didn’t (did we?!!).
I can rattle off all the things I ‘accomplished’, crossed off my never ending to-do list but I can’t remember if I stopped to do any living this week.Dave was away in Wellington which is always a bit crap and increases the chaos somewhat. But surely there had to have been more than a couple of moments in the past five days where I connected, was present and accountable, where I was singularly focused and giving of my attention? I can think of four occasions;
1. I invited a new friend and her son over for a play. I forgot to offer any refreshments. None.
2. I was commiserating with a beautiful young mum about her melanoma removals the day prior when I blurted out that my Dad died of melanoma, just to buoy her spirits you know!?. WTF was I thinking, who says something like that? I felt connected and present because I was acutely aware of what a total accidental asshole I was.
3. Mum made me go for a run. It was dusk in late autumn, it was crisp and cold and beautiful and I felt strong and revived. Until I got home, then I was just annoyed because I had to take a shower.
4. Mum made me run again.

See, I’m terrified I’m doing it all wrong at the moment. By ‘it’ I mean life.
I get the guilts when I try and work/blog/shoot photos when Nix is awake, yet I get mega anxiety if I fall behind on everything I need to do. Which is ridiculous. I’m a Mummy Blogger, I don’t have a boss, or deadlines {I mean I totally HAVE a boss, thing is he’s two & doesn’t always communicate his expectations that well, so I have some wriggle room ; P}.

I love THIS writing. The hard stuff, the funny stuff. The stuff where I can swear and be completely transparent. But I’m finding it more and more difficult to just sit down and get it OUT, onto the screen/interwebs/blog. Life’s a freaking balancing act isn’t it? You’ve got to work through and work hard at the small stuff, the menial tasks so you eventually get to the BIG picture, the place where you’ve always wanted to be. The hard part is remembering to stop and smell the roses once you get there. To breathe and take it all in before it slips away, to sit and read to your baby whenever he asks, because he will stop asking.

This morning, we let it all go and headed out as early as we could manage, went to Western Springs and just walked. We let the kids take their time. We looked at every eel Ethan could find, meandered around in circles with Nixon until his little legs couldn’t walk anymore. We slowed it down, did things a little differently and it felt good. We have to stop going in different directions so much and come back to just being US. Because that is all that matters.

Nixon is wearing: Little Flock of Horrors Merino Patch Leggings, The Warehouse Gumboots, Huxbaby Longsleeve from And They Lived Green, Vest from Cotton On Kids

Follow

Meeting Friday with a Fistpump

May 15, 2015
By: Melissa

Every time Dave goes away for work, which is far too often at the moment, I brace myself, I fortify my parenting intentions, I pray for congenial children, I clear my schedule and I cross my fingers.

Dave left at 3.30am Monday morning and it’s now 10.06pm Friday night and he’s still in transit somewhere between here and Wellington. I miss him!

Roll your eyes etc, what’s a week you say? Hold your horses, a week is nothing. You’re right. But any change to a family’s schedule requires a bit of juggling and shuffling around and that’s what I did this week.

Dave is the Master of the Mornings in our house. The man can literally spring out of bed after a minimum of sleep and greet his boys with all the enthusiasm in the world. Which makes up for my decidedly frowny demeanour most mornings. This week I realised I needed to get up well before the kids to help breeze through the school departure routine. I wouldn’t say I made it out from under the duvet well before Ethan and Nix but I was able to make my bed before Nix began his dawn chorus! It’s a start!

After a calamitous breakfast on day 2 when Nix descended into full blown head-banging-tantrum mode, I decided that our usual family smoothie routine was just too hard to manage on my own. We finished the week with porridge or eggs for breakfast and I made my smoothie after E left for school and Nixon was settled into play time. Everybody wins.

My wonderful Mum lives here from Monday to Thursday so she made the evening witching hour that much easier, taking Nixie out for a walk, cooking dinner or staying home whilst I ran Ethan around to swimming and rugby.

One thing I’m really conscious of at the moment is trying to reclaim some hours in my day. Because I’m falling behind…….in my life! You know how you just get stuck in a routine, you do certain things at certain times of day, on certain days of the week, and it just kind of sticks? No? Well, we needed food, it was 4.15 on Friday afternoon, a time I would never normally consider going grocery shopping, but what the hell. It had finally stopped raining so I took it as a sign and the boys happily ate their way around the supermarket. It meant a dinner rush when we got home but ironically Nixon only ate the beetroot on his plate anyway so…….could have taken it a bit slower I guess!

Anyway, it’s Friday, Dave’s plane has landed and I’m looking forward to changing no nappies tomorrow! Have an awesome weekend everyone xx

Follow

How to Have the Best Mother’s Day EVER, Simplified

May 11, 2015
By: Melissa

Preface: I truely hope all the Mama’s, the Step-mums, Foster mums, Nanas, Dads doing it solo, extended family superstars and anyone raising loved and happy little people had a amazing day yesterday however you chose to spend it x

After careful, mostly, scientific analysis- you know how we do it here at The Best Nest! – of the many Mother’s Day facebook posts, tweets, Instagram pics and blog posts it appears that however you were celebrated (or forgotten as the case may be) on your special day of Mothering, there are two definite camps when it comes to Mother’s Day expectations and we will all fit into either one or the other.

This year it seems that there were many successes, many gifts of ~~Chocolate Salty Balls~~ Lindor Sea Salt Caramel Truffles and many happy Mums. But there were also disappointments, cries of ‘the WORST Mother’s Day EVER’ were heard ringing around the country as husbands failed to meet expectations which had been cumulatively lowered each year anyway. Kids couldn’t stop bitching for ‘one damned day’ and the breakfast in bed failed to cook itself……again.

So, I’ve thought about this long and hard and come up with an easy dichotomy with which Mum’s and partners can easily identify and avoid future Mother’s Day mishaps at all costs. It’s best you figure out which kind of mother you are as early on in your blessed parenting journey as possible as this will make for many happy annual celebrations of your uterine prowess.

Type 1. The Mother-Me-Up-All-Day-Long on Mother’s Day Mother

This mother is the one for whom kindergarten teachers toil long and hard supervising their minions and churning out craft-paper cards year after year. This mother knows what she wants and she wants a day with the kids and her partner if applicable. She wants celebratory brunches with family, cards with badges saying “#1 MUM”, she wants special ‘family’ outings and activities, walks on the beach – together! She wants to cram in as much mothering as she can on this special day that’s just for her. She’s easy to please so flowers from the neighbor’s garden picked by dimpled wee hands will be perfect.

There are potential problems though so be warned. The potential for children to ruin this mother’s perfect Mother’s Day is huge. Kids get mothered every day of the year, so their natural urge for extra-mothering on Mother’s Day may not coincide with the lunar calendar. In short, the kids could turn on a dime, refuse to play nice and retreat into the bickering asshole state that simmers below their cherubic exterior. As the Mother-Me-Up-All-Day-Long Mother’s happiness on Mother’s Day is dependent upon the ‘Happy Family’ experience, bribing the kids is recommended.

This mother is not me.

Type 2. The Give-me-Peace-and-Quiet-Whilst-Rewarding-Me-From-Afar Mother

This Mum loves you, but does not need you all up in her grill on Mother’s Day. It’s HER day after all, and she is quite happy to spend it as far away from the ~~sticky, clutching~~ dimpled hands of her gorgeous babes as she sees fit. This may be just in her room. With earplugs in. And the door locked for a few hours. It’s respite she craves, a break from routine. She may want to FINISH a book! Or start one, let’s be real. This mama doesn’t need a family outing, she would rather have a bath by herself, or a pedicure, let me emphasize this point; no Mum is ever going to be disappointed with a pedicure for a gift. This mama may seem like a weirdo, but she’s really just like you or me. Ok she is me, and what she really wants is to be rewarded for her duties to family life by a lack of family life for a day, even half a day would suffice. Too easy.

The main problem with Type #2 mothers is about half-way though their allotted Mother’s Day exile the guilty pangs will begin to set in. Hateful little stabbing knives that ruin the peace of child/husband free solitude and threaten to sabotage the illusion of calm. The guilt expands into full blown hallucinations which culminate in the Type #2 actually thinking that maybe she got it all wrong and she’s really a Type #1 after all and where are her babies, WHERE?????? “Let me MOTHER THEM!!!!!”.

It’s so, so sad.

So basically, you can’t win. But you can survive Mother’s day. Find yourself a charming little anecdote with which to bolster your spirits and soldier on until wine o’clock. I love this little one I received on a gorgeous handmade card from my friends at My Fun Box;

Mums are like buttons…..

They hold everything together!

Hold it together Mamas, there’s always next year xx

Follow

Thou shalt not judge my parenting on Mondays

May 6, 2015
By: Melissa

Nix turns two in 2 months and he’s all about the tantrums. All. The. Time.

I can deal with this just fine, however, a grande mal paddy sometimes causes a bit of a time crunch when you are trying to leave the house by 9.30am. God that sounded like eons of time once in my life – getting on your way and in the car by 9.30? pfffftttt, nothing to it. Now I’m on struggle street with such an ‘early’ departure, I hate it.

Anyway, swimming at 10am + a multiple paddy morning = frazzled mama. I realized about halfway to the class that I had failed to pack Nix any swimming togs. I had a disposable swim nappy so that would have to suffice. But the LOOKS! I was officially deemed ‘that’ mother in the eyes of my peers, the instructor was quite horrified and every time I launched Nix out of the pool with gay abandon all eyes followed his nappy clothed, swimming trunk-less bottom as if at any time it was going to blow!

We survived the lesson and in the creepy silence of the changing room where no-one talks to each other, the Mum next to me began cursing under her breath. My swimming togs faux pas was trumped by a forgotten bra! My worst nightmare. It was obviously Monday-itis all round.

We emerged from our joyous time in the chlorine and headed to the mall to pick up a few things. Much like taking Nixon to a restaurant, taking him shopping is also an exercise in speed, distraction and mostly just speed. He hates being confined to his stroller with a passion. A very loud and vocal passion. When I saw there was no line at my $10 eyebrow waxing joint I made an executive decision – we were going in, stroller and all. I handed Nix my phone {breaking parenting rule #71 right?}, found him some videos of himself to watch and told the beautician it was Go Time – we had a ticking time bomb on our hands. She was totally the mistress of speedy wax jobs and I headed on my way, ready to brave the mall, with the addition of bright red waxing marks on my face. Such a babe.

It was then a caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and learnt a hard lesson; my trackies may be from Country Rd, but this does not make them fit for wearing in public. One word, pajamas.

So I was feeling really pumped up as we hit Kmart (not) and there were signs that Nixon was rapidly descending into shit-losing-mode. I found The Wiggles on Spotify and pumped it up to full volume and handed him my phone again, I know I know! I skipped the ‘trendy’ homewares section and powered through to the boys clothes department. Nix needed some winter play clothes so I wasn’t leaving until I had them.

By the time we left the shoes, it was all over. Back arched, screams at mega-decibel level, I ran to the check-out only stopping to demonstrate my next display of uber parenting – I grabbed a Kit Kat and a juice bottle and said ‘have at it kiddo’ {Breaking parenting rule #3 I’m pretty sure}. I had bought myself enough time to pay for the clothes, and power my way through another store to pick up Mum’s Mother’s Day gift.

So yeah. Monday. As I said to the bra-less mother at swimming, “it can only get better from here right?”.

Follow

These are my people. Even the toddler.

May 1, 2015
By: Melissa

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

Mummy Blog New Zealand Best Kids

Follow

Flying by the seat of my pants.

April 28, 2015
By: Melissa

Last week saw the somewhat anticipated beginning of Term 2. After a lovely, lazy two weeks of school holidays E left the house last Monday happy and ready to get stuck in to another school term. Compared to holidays past, the Easter break was chilled and calm. I made no School Holiday Activity Lists as I have done in the past, in fact there were only two days of ‘planned’ excursions over the entire break. Quel horreur!
It was bloody good. And cheap.
The Problem With Last Week began upon Ethan’s return to school. See, I forgot to kick myself out of school holiday mode and spent the rest of the week trying to remove my head from my ass the clouds and get some shit done. Nixie was very busy getting shit done as he picked up another bout of rotavirus the week before, let the good times roll!

So it was the kind of week where permission slips and gold coins were scrambled for 5 minutes after E was supposed to leave for school, dinners were freezer-to-microwave affairs – unplanned and unremarkable, I was out two nights, further complicating matters and leaving me even less time to, well, not do Very Important Stuff. Like be an awesome mum and wife : (

Sigh.

The ‘work’ week ended with Dave and I having a big fight about an outdoor project we were going to be completing over the weekend. Ridiculous, but the culmination of a very stressful week for Dave and a useless, self-absorbed week for me. I’ve been focussing on all the wrong things, neglecting the right things and letting my beautiful family slip by the wayside.

This week will be better. The work week is already a day shorter so I’m winning already. We had such a great long weekend, Dave and I are totally back on the same page and aside from him smashing his face skateboarding in the weekend and chipping a tooth badly (read: $$$), I’m ready to rock this week!

I hope you guys are on track for an amazing week too xx

Follow

The lost art of “getting shit done”

March 19, 2015
By: Melissa

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?

Toddler Baking New Zealand Mum Blogger

Follow