Thanks for stopping by. Mummy Mayhem is no longer updated. I now have a new, albeit smaller blog over at www.jodieansted.blogspot.com.au.

Drop by anytime. :)


Wednesday, June 30, 2010

A Blog Award and Food I LOVE (Trust Me, They Go Together.)

A very big THANK YOU to Cameron over at Ingenue Mom who was very kind to pass on this lovely award to me - The Versatile Blogger. 

Part of the deal with this award, is to give all my lovely readers a list of 7 things about moi. Now, as I've written a similar post in the past here and, taking a leaf out of Cameron's book blog as she did here, I'm going to do this slightly differently (except, not with a list of my fave books). I'm going to give you 7 foods I LOVE. Here goes:

1. Brie - If you put a whole chunk of it in front of me, consider it gone. And if my sister's in the room? Forget it. We'll both devour it and look for more. Love. It. 
2. Chocolate Mousse - What can I say? It's chocolate. It's smooth. It melts in your mouth. Really. What's not to like about it? Huh?
3. Eggs - I love them poached, scrambled, hard-boiled, fried, even thrown in to a milk shake raw. Yep. I love 'em THAT much. With hard boiled eggs, mash 'em up and throw in some curry powder, tomato sauce, a little mayo - and you've got yourself some yummo curried egg for a sandwich. Delish.
4. Chocolate cake - Ok. I think it's becoming obvious I have a little thing for chocolate. 
5. Milo - This is getting embarrassing.
6. Smoked Salmon - Tasty. Versatile. (See? Tying in with the blog award here!) And fancy schmancy. Me like.
7. Bread - As in, like, any sort of bread. I'm a carb girl, that's for sure. And if it's a french stick served with Brie? Better still.

I could keep going. Really, I could. 

Now I need to pass this award on to 5 bloggers who are newish to my blog. (Check out their blogs. Go on!) So without further ado, congrats goes to....

Maxabella at Maxabella Loves
The Dotterel at Bringing Up Charlie
Katie at No Missed Opportunities
Lori at Random Ramblings of a SAHM
Lucy at Diminishing Lucy

What about you? Got any fave foods you'd like to share?


Friday, June 25, 2010

Hot or Not? David Beckham

Welcome to Friday one and all, and a big hello to all my new readers! Friday we get together here on Mummy Mayhem for a bit of fun and to decide if the celebrity of my choice is hot...or not. It's up to you to decide!

Last week was the first week we had double the fun deciding whether Lost stars, Matthew Fox and Josh Holloway, were hot, or not? Seems that Matthew is more hot than Josh in most of your minds. Personally, I'm not surprised. :)  

In light of the FIFA World Cup in South Africa playing out at the moment, I thought I'd choose a soccer player (or footballer - this depends on where you live) for this week's Hot or Not. But you know what? I couldn't think of any I really know, apart from Harry Kewell. I'm not convinced though that everyone would know who Harry is (then again...), and then I thought....Becks. EVERYONE knows David Beckham!

Ok - so he hasn't actually played in the World Cup this year (due to injury, I believe), but I did catch him on the sidelines during the highlights of an England match, cheering on his team. (Love the commitment, Becks.)

I think Becks is that kind of guy that may divide a nation, or two, on this vote. Personally, I like it when he frowns. He should just frown all day every day. Both he and his wife, Posh..I mean, Victoria, like to look serious, don't they?

Remember the "Impossible is Nothing" Adidas commercial? Enjoy...

So touching. * dabs tears from eyes * 

So, without further ado, I present to you this week's pick...David Beckham. What do you think? Is he hot, or not?


This weekly post was inspired by Insomniac Mummy's weekly Hot or Not? 

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

You Can't Wear THAT!

This Friday, the kids get to go "mufti" to school. That means, wearing their casual clothes. That also means, I reckon I'm up for an argument with my kids on what they'll wear.

On Mondays and Fridays, my boys wear their 'formal' uniform to school. During winter (as in, right now!) that means navy pants, black school shoes, white long-sleeved shirt, tie and v-neck navy blue jumper. I'm sure you won't be surprised to read that I find tying my boys’ school ties twice a week quite a tedious task on my to-do list. In fact, I often cheat. I simply loosen their ties at the end of the day, pull it up over their head and then I can slip it back on next time and tighten it. (Thanks to my friend, Nicole for that tip. ;) ) 

That’s not to say I’m not a fan of school uniforms though. When I was in primary school, even though there was an official uniform, hardly anyone wore it (including me). I’m sure it was a nightmare for my Mum coming up with outfits for me seven days a week (not to mention the washing involved). And you know what kids are like…they seem to develop this thing called an 'opinion' fairly early on (what’s up with that?) and suddenly, you’re bringing home your carefully chosen clothing items for them and they’re all like, “Ewww. I’m SO not wearing that.” And then I'm all like, “Great. Glad I dragged your 3yr old brother around Target for 2 hours today. No banana muffins for you!” (No, I wouldn’t really threaten to take their afternoon tea off them. Unless, of course, it was chocolate cake or something and then it’s all on for young and...well, not quite as young. Ahem.)

I’m all for my boys developing their own sense of style and all, but really, I’m sure you can understand when I say I simply must have some say as to what my boys will wear on any given day. Otherwise they’d probably walk around looking like misfits or the like.

As they get older, it’s becoming more and more difficult to sway their opinion on their choice of clothing. So this Friday, I have a plan.

I’m going to show them this picture:

For those of you who don’t follow Gossip Girl (I’m currently hooked - as was evident in this post) this is a character from the show (Chuck Bass, in fact) who is known to make more, let's just say, outlandish clothes choices. As you can no doubt tell from this picture. 

Once I show this pic to my boys, I’m then going to say, “I’ve picked out this outfit for both of you to wear to this Friday’s Mufti Day.” When they protest that they couldn’t possibly wear such an ensemble, I’ll then look sad, and say, “Oh – but the only other thing I have is this,” and I’ll point to what I actually want them to wear. No doubt, they’ll practically knock each other over in their race to get dressed.

Of course I imagine all the parents of girls who are reading this (who are no doubt spellbound by my brilliance) are now wondering what they can do to convince their daughters what to wear on any similar occasion? And so we come to this photo that appeared in my Livin' in the 80s post a while back: 

If you haven’t worked it out already – that’s me above. (Don’t judge. It was 1987. Ok?) Don’t you just love the shoulder pads and panthers on my outfit? Yes. You read that correctly. Panthers. Or maybe they were jaguars? You know what…at this point, I’m quite sure it doesn’t matter. (The damage has already been done.)

So, if you have an issue getting your kids to wear what you want them to and you have a son - use Chuck Bass. If you have a daughter - use me. It's my gift to you. 

Please. Applause is not necessary. You’re welcome.

How about you? Do you have a problem getting your kids to wear your choice of clothing for them? Is there a fashion trend you simply can't stand to see your kids follow? Or maybe you have some tips as to how to get our kids excited about what to wear!  


Ask Mummy Mayhem - One Wedding and A Baby

It's time for another Ask Mummy Mayhem question, where you get to help a Mummy Mayhem reader with their problem.

This week's email comes from Ami. She writes...

My husband's good friend is getting married in November and hubby is in the bridal party. Our new bub will be about 4 weeks old, provided it doesn't come majorly early or majorly late! The wedding is likely to be a cocktail wedding. It never occurred to me that we wouldn't be able to take the baby until the bride mentioned that "the baby isn't invited". If this is the case then it's unlikely I will be able to go. I'm hoping Hubby can talk to his friend and find out if it's really going to be a problem or if the bride will change her mind. I understand the whole no kids running around thing, but really it will just be a little pudding at that stage. I know the bride is well within her rights to set the 'rules', but am I being unreasonable to think it should be ok to take the baby?
Look forward to some collective words of wisdom!!

Whilst I absolutely get why people prefer not to have kids at their wedding, for whatever reason (for us, it was about wanting the parents to have a good time!), I think babies are the exception to the rule here. 

A newborn is hardly likely to run around the reception, knocking over flower stands and swiping extra pieces of the wedding cake. Newborns are easily contained. And often when they're so young, at the very least, parents don't always feel comfortable leaving them with someone (especially when a wedding can be hours and hours), or if they're exclusively breastfed, they need to be close by every few hours or so! We had friends who had a baby 2 weeks prior to our wedding, and we invited them to bring the baby to the reception (all kids were welcomed to the church), which was at Hubby's cousin's home, so that they could feed him and the like whilst there. 

My gut feel is that this Bride doesn't want anything to go wrong on her big day, and is imagining your newborn bub screaming his or her head off during the ceremony! I don't know any mother who would just sit in a church during a wedding ceremony and allow that to happen, but not being a mother yet herself (and probably anxious to have the 'perfect day'), she's probably not thinking along those lines. 

Seeing that Hubby's in the bridal party, I would definitely have him talk to the Groom. Men are usually more relaxed about this sort of thing, and I doubt the Groom would say no to your Hubby. Make sure Hubby reassures him that if there's any noise, you are more than happy to walk outside with Bubs. Have him lay it on a bit thick, with, "I'd really love for her and the baby to be there..." etc. 

In any case though, if the baby's attendance is a definite no-go zone, don't feel you have to miss out. Here's what you can do:

  • Feed bubs just before the ceremony, whether he or she is due for a feed or not. If the ceremony is close by, and you have a trusted family member or friend who's happy to help out, leave him/her with them. Or...have them come with you to the ceremony, and they can walk bub around in the pram outside, or stay in the car if he/she is asleep. (Grandmothers would LOVE this job.)
  • You might be lucky and, by then, already have a fair idea as to when Bubs will feed, so with regard to the reception, try and give him or her one last feed before you're due to leave, and if you feel comfortable, leave them with someone again and return home after a couple of hours. (Just enough time to enjoy a glass of champers and a bit to eat!) If you're bottle feeding, you can leave some milk and stay longer at the reception, or if you're breastfeeding, and you're able to express, you can leave a bottle of expressed milk! 

It's do-able. But, being your first, you may not be comfortable with that, and I completely understand! I probably wouldn't have left Bubs with someone, but then again, I had no family around, so perhaps if I had it might have been a very different story! And certainly, by the time I had my third...he was left with a friend very early on! ;)

Hope this helps, Ami!

Ok readers - it's your turn. Any help for Ami?

Remember: if you have a problem for Ask Mummy Mayhem that you'd like to share with Mummy Mayhem readers, simply drop me an email. You can request to be anonymous if you like. Details are on the RHS of the homepage!


Tuesday, June 22, 2010

By George, I Think The 3yr Old's Got It!

I don't want to speak too soon but....oh, I'm going to anyway...I think the 3yo may have finally caught on to the whole 'going to the toilet thing'.

Those regular readers may recall I was having a few issues a while back with getting the toddler to use the toilet (new readers can view that post here). 

To be honest, at first, things didn't really improve. In fact, they got worse. I was so worried that the 3yo wasn't going to get to the toilet in time, and I was SO OVER cleaning up after his 'accidents' (especially the surprise-package-in-the-underwear ones) that I pretty much stuck with pull-ups every day. 

They were slightly successful. At first. He continued to wee in the toilet, and any 'number two' surprises were contained, as he still hadn't gotten around to telling me when that was coming. 

And then, after a few weeks, he stopped bothering to do a wee in the toilet at all. This is the exact same thing that happened with the 8yo and 6yo when toilet training. The pull-ups would last for a while, and then, quite frankly, the boys would get lazy. I mean, they're boys! If they can get around doing any extra work, they're gonna!

Last week, out of frustration over spending a fortune on pull-ups, I decided to take them off and try his underwear again. I braced myself for what I thought would be the inevitable. 

And you know what? It didn't happen.

Within the first 30 minutes of wearing his underwear, he announced, "Muuum - I need to go poo-poos!" and, surprised, but so happy he had asked, I rushed him to the toilet and...voila! He did it!

Since then, we've stuck (mostly) with the underwear, and so far...no accidents! *happy dance* Admittedly though, I'm still using the pull-ups for bigger outings, but I think having used the underwear at home now, he's started to ask to go to the toilet with the pull-ups on again. 

I'm not saying pull-ups are evil or anything - they can be quite handy at the beginning of toilet training, and I'll continue to use them for his night time sleeps etc, but in my experience, once toilet training has started, they can kind of hinder progress.

But that's just my thoughts on it. 

Now...if I can just get the 3yo to stop torturing the dog, get him to do as he's told, stop helping himself to the pantry, stop talking like Alvin from Alvin & The Chipmunks, start eating some fruit that's not pureed and stop drawing on everything other than paper, as well as a few other little things, I'll be one happy mum. 

How about you? How did your toilet training go? Got any tips for anyone out there going through the same thing right now?


Sunday, June 20, 2010

Mean Midwives

Most midwives are great, but occasionally, you get the not-so-great ones. Unfortunately.

A special someone has prompted this post. Emily of Emly The Strange is a budding midwife-to-be who is currently at Uni and going through her training. I know Emily through Twitter and via her blog, as well as a few emails (although I will meet her in person come July – YAY!), but if my initial impressions of her count for anything, she comes across to me as someone who is very mature, thoughtful of other’s feelings and an enthusiastic, caring and considerate student who I have no doubt will become one of the great midwives of the near future.

It was Emily’s recent posts that got me thinking about the midwives that helped me (as well as those that didn’t, really) during the births of my three sons and in those days in hospital that followed.

The first midwife I ever encountered was Shelley. About 3 days before my first son was born, I was concerned that I hadn’t felt any movement for a while (and I was about 5 days overdue by that stage, so I had good reason to be concerned). I met Shelley at the birthing suite of the hospital that all my sons would later be born in, as she strapped me up to the monitor that measured my baby’s heart rate and my contractions, and assured me that everything would be sorted very soon. After seeing my child’s heartbeat, Shelley continued to assure me and comfort me the whole time I was there. She was fantastic. Not once did she make me feel like a paranoid, first-time mother (even if I actually was).

Three days later, after going in to labour late the night before, I found myself back at the birthing suite in the early hours of 5 March 2002. The midwife I met then, Sharon, was nothing like Shelley. Firstly, she seemed to act as though Hubby was a nuisance, and when I told her I seemed to be having one contraction on top of another – not after every contraction, but often - she shook her head and said, “I don’t think so, love. You only get that when you’re closer to the birth, and you’re a loooong way off yet.” However, after strapping me to the thingy that shows my contractions, she had to concede I was right. “Well, ok. It looks like you’re having multiple contractions. But still..you’re a long way off.”

A couple of hours later, I decided to try some gas to ease the pain. “Oh, that last one hurt,” I announced after my contraction. Sharon smiled smugly and said, “Honey – it’s going to get a lot worse than that. Sometimes you hear women screaming from down the hall!” And then, “I think you’re going to need drugs to get you through.” I recall her patronisingly patting my shoulder.

I didn’t have a “no drugs” policy or anything, but I had said I wanted to try and avoid an epidural if possible (because I was afraid of having a needle so close to my spine!) but I had told my Ob/Gyn I would have it if the labour became long and/or difficult. (It did, so I ended up having one in the end, at about midday that day.)

Apart from that, she also showed me how to breathe the gas in incorrectly. She had me hyperventilating it in basically – no wonder I felt dizzy – and this was only rectified at the change of shift in the morning when another wonderful midwife, Susan, walked through the door. She immediately showed Hubby how to turn the gas up (seems that Sharon had, not surprisingly, kept it on low. Nice).

Sharon also told me that my baby was posterior (when the baby's backbone is facing the mother's backbone). I was dubious. The position of my baby all during pregnancy had been perfect, and although it wasn’t an impossibility for the baby to turn so late in the game, I was surprised when she told me. And, of course, having read that labour could be quite painful with a posterior baby, I started to worry. When Susan walked in that morning, I mentioned this to her almost straight away. She checked, looked puzzled and then said, “No. The baby’s fine. It’s where he or she should be. You’re doing great.”

It was only later after my son's birth, that I realised just how out of line Sharon really was. I’m not sure why she had such a big chip on her shoulder, but she most certainly did, and she made my first birthing experience (the first 7 or so hours anyway) not a pleasant one. First time mums have enough to worry about without a midwife adding to their concerns.

During that first hospital stay, I had a few midwives that, when I asked for settling ideas, weren’t very helpful. And when trying to breastfeed and suffering from grazed and bleeding nipples (nope – it was nothing like the brochures thank-you-very-much - when is it?), one midwife became quite impatient at my pleas for a break. And then, one other lovely midwife practically whispered to me to have Hubby buy a tube of Marcalan ointment to help me out. (Which, once I started using, eased the discomfort considerably.) I think some of the midwives were so hell bent on keeping everything as “natural as possible" that it skewed their very purpose: to make things as easy for me as possible. To help me make the tentative transition from pregnant woman to mother. No one in their right minds back then could have disputed I was like a deer caught in headlights – absolutely thrown in to the deep end and in some dire need of guidance. Some of those midwives let me down.

When my second and third sons were born, I knew what I was in for and what I would and, more importantly, what I wouldn’t put up with. I told my Ob/Gyn about Sharon, and he said that if I ended up with her again, just to politely point out that we had differing views on the process and ask for someone else. Fortunately, for my second son, I ended up with Sally – the best midwife in the world. She was amazing. So supportive and wonderful. But then whilst recuperating, I had yet another midwife who practically refused to take my son’s temperature before his feed (he was being monitored after I had discovered whilst pregnant with him that I carried the Group B Strep virus – and he would be monitored for, from memory, 24 hours). It was about 6 hours until the end of when monitoring him could stop, but this midwife decided that she deemed it ok, even after my insistence his temperature be taken. (I mean really, what was the upside in stopping the monitoring earlier than planned?) I complained. Quite frankly, I was going to follow my Ob/Gyn’s orders – not some midwife with a power trip going on. She was sent in to carry out her job, and to apologise. 

With my third son, I realised about an hour in to being at the hospital that the first midwife, Sharon, was once again assigned to me. However, this time she was courteous and pleasant. Not at all like she had been the first time. I wondered if she had been reprimanded, or perhaps she'd had an off day that evening five years earlier, or perhaps she was nicer with the mums who had been down this path before? In any case, within a few hours she was gone, and I once again had a great midwife, Jocelyn, for his delivery. And, once again, I had some good, and a couple of not-so-good midwives, but knowing what I knew by then, it mattered less to me.

But that’s the point. For first time mums, a good midwife is essential. If you’re a first time mum-to-be, I have one piece of advice for you: during the labour, the birth, and the recovery – if a midwife doesn’t sit right with you, don’t be afraid to ask for someone else. This is your experience – not theirs. You call the shots, and you deserve nothing less than a wonderful experience, guided by those midwives who are worth their weight in gold. Thankfully, they do exist (moreso than the not-so-great ones) and I have no doubt that Emily will be joining the great ones in the future.

How about you? If you’ve had a baby, were your experiences all good, or do you have any tales of midwives who were not so fantastic at their job?


Friday, June 18, 2010

Hot or Not? Matthew Fox AND Josh Holloway

Exciting, huh? A double header for this week's Hot or Not.

You know, I think, like me, many of you quite like a funny guy, and last week's choice, Ryan Reynolds, seems proof of that. And although it seems sad to say it, I'm still cracking up at that scene between Ryan and Sandra Bullock when their naked bodies lock together in The Proposal! Ha!

Ok enough reminiscing. Who here watched Lost? To be honest, I didn't. I did to begin with, riiiight back in the day when it started, but it, ah, lost me in the end. (Sorry.) 

However, I did catch the last 10 minutes of the final show a couple of weeks ago. I had NO IDEA what was going on, but it was interesting to see everyone again. 

Anyway, Bern over at So Now What? actually suggested on Twitter the other day that Matthew Fox could be a good choice. (Actually, she wrote it as Matthew Fix at the time, and I had no idea who she was talking about at first. Typos. Gotta love 'em.)

I was thinking about Matthew (I've loved him since his Party of Five days), and then I started thinking about the "other hunk" on the show - Josh Holloway, and I wondered if many would find both celebs hot, or not, hot/not or not/hot. 

You get it, right?

So think week, I'm asking about both men to see what you think.  

So tell me - is Matthew Fox and Josh Holloway hot, or not? (You don't have to vote them collectively as one or the other - one could be hot, one not...you get the drift.)




Wednesday, June 16, 2010

I Need To Take a Chill Pill, Man

Seeing that life is so chaotic on the outside, I’m not sure how I’m going to do it, but I’m determined to find some inner peace.

I’m sure that most of you have either read, or at least heard of, the book by Elizabeth Gilbert: Eat, Pray, Love (I’ve read it, and you can read my review here). In short, after the breakdown of her marriage, Elizabeth sets out to find some inner peace of her own – traveling for a year to 3 different countries for four months at a time: Italy (to eat), India (to pray) and Indonesia (to love – although, she doesn’t realise she’ll find love until after she gets there).

Most I know who’ve read the book found the chapters on India a bit of a challenge, with some saying it dragged on a bit for them. Many have said it was their least favourite of the three sections of the book, and I think I know (partly) why that may be the case. Let me explain…

In India, Elizabeth stays at an Ashram where she spends many an hour meditating. Daily. She spends a lot of time trying to get it right; trying to clear her head of thoughts from the outside world. I mean, it can’t be easy switching off and zoning out of everything around you, can it? Even in an Ashram.

We live in a fast-paced world, and like Elizabeth used to be before her stay in India, I – like many of you, I’m sure – find it hard to stop the incessant ramblings within my head. Don’t you often lie there at night, thinking about what you’ve done that day and what you need to do tomorrow? Do you spend those rare, quiet moments letting your mind drift to mindless topics or recalling conversations and situations with people that day? Are you bloggers/writers out there constantly looking at everything through the eyes of your next blog post/article/book – writing it as you shower/walk/watch your child’s school assembly?

If you answered ‘yes’, then I’m afraid you’re just like me.

I think that’s why many find Elizabeth’s journey through India quite difficult to get in to. Admit it – most of us don’t really want to commit the time needed to get to the point of inner peace (or, probably more accurately, don’t think we can afford the time to do so). In fact, we don’t even want to spend 35 or so chapters finding out how to do it either. We are too busy, aren’t we?. I mean, four months of daily meditation? I can’t tell you how much the thought of doing that stresses me out. I have too much to do. My world would practically fall apart after Week 1. Yep – I’m one of those people you’d probably find buying a book called something like, 10 Minutes To Finding Your Inner Peace instead.

And isn’t that sad?

I’ve never tried Yoga, or any sort of meditation, for two main reasons: 1. I’m not convinced I could sit still long enough to clear my head of to-do lists, and I’m quite sure I’d sit there, trying to picture my ‘special place’ and instead, start wondering who dies in the season finale of Brothers & Sisters; and 2. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to get my leg up and wrap it around the back of my neck. They do that in yoga class, don’t they? You know, I’m not quite as flexible as I used to be*.

But I’m also afraid of failing at it.

I’m not a particularly calm person (although it depends on the circumstance). My patience levels these days are next to nothing, and I can’t seem to get all Zen about everything around me. Believe me, I’ve tried. I try to ignore my kids screaming and not hound them about manners and about how they behave. I try to be all earth mother about it. To be honest, I don’t want to become known as the 'nagging mother', but I’m afraid I just might be becoming that very person. 

I can’t calmly sit, smiling, whilst watching someone take super long to back out of a car space I’m waiting for. I’m more of the finger-tapping-on-the-steering-wheel-with-impatience kinda girl, muttering “Oh, come ooooon,” under my breath.

And although I wouldn’t describe myself as a ‘worrier’ as such, I do spend a lot of time wondering about how I’ll achieve this, and how I’ll achieve that. How can I get on top of the housework? What bills haven’t I paid yet? When is my next pap smear due? Is it overdue? I have strange pains in my stomach – it couldn’t be cancer or something, could it? If so, is it because I’m not eating enough fruit? What will happen to my kids if I die, and how will Hubby cope if he has to look after me?

Whooooooaaaa. See? I have an overactive mind (and an overactive imagination to boot). I’m most definitely in need of some inner peace.

I just need to find some patience and commitment to doing so, because I’m sure it takes both of those things. Then I’m ready. Right?

If you have any tips for how to get started, I’d love to hear them. But, could you, uh, give them to me in 25 words or less? I’m kinda busy here. Thanks. ;)

* If the truth be told, I was never that flexible. 

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Dying For a Cuppa

I survived. Over three and a half days computer free. And...it wasn't so bad.

That was one revelation I had these last few days during my Twitter, Blog and Email ban (which was self-imposed). I can live without my computer, if I have to. Well, short term anyway. Yes, there was a moment when I desperately asked Hubby to download a Twitter application on to his iPhone (he refused), but apart from that - I survived quite well. 

My other revelation during the past few days is that I've turned in to my parents. The Ansted Family went to Canberra for the long weekend here. I always remember after returning from a long car trip, my parents would walk through the door to our home and one would immediately exclaim to the other, "I"m dying for a cuppa. Pop the kettle on, love." Everything else was put aside until the tea was consumed. I never thought myself a "tea drinker" as such, up until the last six or so months. In fact, the first thing I imagined I would want to do today after returning from our own car trip was to Tweet. Or blog. But it was the tea that won out in the end. ;) 

And yes - I'm now here. As you can see. 

However, I do wonder what the Universe is trying to tell me, because after an almost four day break from Twitter, I returned only to find it wasn't working. When I last checked, my profile was showing none of my tweets, and every time I did tweet, it would come up with an "Internal Server Error" message. *sigh*

In any case, I'm not giving up on technology just yet. I did miss my tweeps, and I also missed all your smiley faces and/or comments on my posts. I missed reading other's blog posts (and I bet my newly discovered Google reader is just bursting with new posts)! And I missed writing.

I'd love to tell you about our holiday. We had some funny moments, as well as a few challenging ones (you're not all that surprised, are you)? And when I have more time, I will do just that. Right now, I'm up to my ears in washing. I'm trying to figure out what to have for dinner, and the kids are busy messing up the house (again) because, for them, their toys and drawing materials are like my computer - something they miss and want to play with as soon as they walk through the door. 

After a nice cuppa (or in their case - hot Milo). Of course. 


Sunday, June 13, 2010

Them's The Breaks...

I'm posting this into the future...from the past...or...something like that. 

The point is: I'm typing this in the early hours of Saturday morning, and I'm scheduling this post for Sunday eve, because I'm taking a mini blogging and tweeting break. That's right. I'm going cold turkey and everything. 

I know. It's radical, and I'm not sure how I'm going to cope, but I'm spending some quality time with Hubby, the 8yr old, the 6yr old and the 3yr old this long weekend here in NSW. Which means no blogging (*gag*) and no tweeting (can't....breathe...). 

Anyway, I plan to be back online Tuesday some time. (Like, as soon as is humanly possible!)

If you're a new follower and you're just busting to read something of mine, you can always check out any of my old posts, or my Looking for Love series (see the top of the homepage) and therefore read all about my love life in the early 90s. 

Or, you know, just come back on Tuesday night and check in on me. 

In any case - I wish you all a lovely few days, and I'll see you on my return. In the future. I think.