I have to admit to being completely and utterly unprepared in the blog writing world this week. It was Labour weekend this weekend so a long overdue 3 day holiday and I made the decision on Friday night to make it a technology free one. So this morning is the first time that I have been on a computer since Friday! I went on my phone for exactly 10 minutes on Sunday morning just to check that the All Blacks had indeed won their semi-final match and not come down with some unexplained case of food poisoning (ha!) and again on Monday to look up lemon trees because for a minute there when I nearly stabbed my eye out with the biggest sharpest thorn you have ever seen I began to wonder what the hell I had bought myself! Who knew lemon trees had thorns?! I certainly didn’t.
Those two words that all parents dread: Toilet training.
What the hell do you do when your kid just WON’T POO ON THE TOILET! I mean, trying to train a little person to pee and poop on the toilet and not in a nappy/undies/on the grass/in the bath (ugh!) is not a fun activity for parents in any shape or form (ha!) and boys can be harder than girls to get on board with the idea.
I started my oldest just after age 3. That could be considered quite late but everything I read said that boys can take longer to be ready and forcing them to start early if they’re not ready can be a battle of wills that ends up with the unpleasant side effect of taking longer, more accidents and regression. Cohen also had a few communication issues with his speech delay which spurred me to hold off (and he turned 3 in the middle of damn winter, not an ideal TT time of year!).
My oldest son is what one might call a hypochondriac.
I don’t know when it started exactly but it’s been going on for as long as I can remember and as he gets older it’s just getting progressively worse.
The tiniest mark on his body and he is crying that he has a hurt and it ‘needs a plaster mummy, you need to fix it!’. It is not unheard of to hear a proclamation of ‘But I’m dying!’ in our household.
I’ve certainly never been without my moments of ditz (refer to I have a Confession … My Blondest Moments Exposed) but since having children those moments have risen substantially to the point that I have a story for almost every occasion.
Not only do I have increasing numbers of embarrassing moments to recount, I also have trouble with the simplest tasks. Like remembering whether I washed my hair the day before. Or was it the day before that? Something so simple that I struggle with on a daily basis. I try to remember but I just draw a total blank. Do I remember lathering shampoo in my hair? Combing through the conditioner? I should be able to recall something like this in an instant but … complete blank. I just cannot. Washing my hair ever second day should not be this complicated! My memory is like a sieve. Names, faces …