Little Miss Helpful

I have renamed Bubba Little Miss Helpful.

Because she is.

Things she loves to help with include …

Picking up dog fur – generally a couple of strands at a time (there’s a life-long task, right there).

Opening my wardrobe and selecting my shoes (apples don’t fall far from trees do they?) – it doesn’t actually matter if I’m already wearing shoes – or if I’ve got one and the next one she hands me doesn’t match, I just need to try them all on (again, apples). I fear us getting out of the house on time in the mornings in years to come may be in jeopardy!

If I’m holding her at the right level, turning light switches off and on. This task is accompanied by a squeal of delight when the light comes on, and a very serious look when it goes off again.

Closing things. Doors, cupboards, drawers. It doesn’t matter if I need them open – washing machine, laundry door (nope, mumma, I don’t want the door open so I’m just going to close you in the laundry – as if I don’t spend enough hours in there already?!), kitchen drawers (but I’m not finished unstacking the dishwasher yet bubba), the dishwasher door (oh yes you are mumma).

Opening them again if they are sliding doors (our wardrobes) because that’s fun and you never know what you might find that you can take out and put back in again.

Carrying many things at once (teddy, shoes, bottle) accompanied by ‘uh oh’ and a plea of help on her cute little face when one or more of those things drops. But when I pick it up, am I allowed to carry it for her? No way lady, give it back, I CAN DO IT.

(photo source: mrmen.wikia.com)

Okay Bubba. Or rather Little Miss Helpful!

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I’m trapped

Help, I’m trapped!

Actually, I don’t need help, not with this problem. It’s nothing to be overly concerned about. I’m not trapped anywhere scary – or maybe I am, depending on your point of view? But it would seem I am trapped in a teenage girl’s body. Or perhaps I just have her hormones?

Either way, I’m declaring today to be Frivolous Friday and sharing with you some doctoring correcting I’ve done to some photos published over the past couple of years.

Seems I have a type: tall, dark and handsome.

And maybe just a little bit hollywood.

Oh, and young. Or rather old (in vampire years that is).

jealous much?

Go on, be a little silly sometimes.

It’s okay to not be a grown up all the time – at least I think so!

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Inspiration

Inspiration can come from so many different places: people, animals, books, music, quotes, nature, and from within you. I thought I’d just take a minute today to say thanks to those who inspire me daily – for so many different reasons.

Thank you to my gorgeous family (furry included!) who inspire me to be a better person. Particular mention to my lovely mumma – I aspire to be the awesome mumma that she is!

Thank you to those advocates for the voiceless who do so much for animals when they can’t do for themselves. Those who do it publicly, and those who just go about it as part of their every day.

Thank you to those amazing authors, songwriters, photographers – artists of all forms, past and present – who inspire me to want to imagine more and dream bigger.

Thank you in particular to couple of mummas in my life who continually inspire (and amaze) me - they are so in the moment and yet juggle so many things. A school friend who has four children and at 42 has gone back to fashion school; and another girlfriend whose life was turned upside down a few years ago, but by looking at her and her beautiful children, you would never know it. You are both the bomb!

While there are so many different things in nature to be inspired by, for me it’s mostly rainbows. Music about rainbows? Two inspirations together – awesome. Somewhere Over the Rainbow and The Rainbow Connection (an aside thank you to Jim Henson being so inspired to create The Muppets) are two of Love Bug and my favourite rainbow songs! While I’m not religious at all, I do believe in guardian angels, and I’m fairly sure I see my daddy every time I see a rainbow.

the lovers, the dreamers and me

(Photo credit: http://pinterest.com/pin/53480314295416954/ - thanks Little Sister, who has always inspired me to want to be the best Big Sister in the world!)

Inspiration is all around you – you just need to let it find you!

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Positive to pigtails in the blink of an eye

Two years ago today I was interstate on a business trip. I’d spent the night before not in the comfy hotel bed, but mostly on the cool tiled floor in the luxurious bathroom. Lucky for me the towels were extra fluffy and made for good pillows.

While a teeny tiny part of me dared to hope the reason for my spending the night on the bathroom floor was my impending blood test to confirm or deny I was pregnant, most of me blamed the deliciously rich meal I’d shared with a friend the night before.

As it happened, when my early morning blood test results came – at the end of a (veeeeeeeeeeeery loooooooooooooong) day of meetings; a day spent trying to nibble dry crackers unnoticed by my colleagues – they came by a phone call which confirmed my biggest dream and changed my forever.

I was indeed pregnant … and my body would not tolerate rich food from that moment on – for the next eight months!

Fast forward two years to this morning when I put Love Bug’s hair in pigtails for the first time. Sure, they’re more like strands of hair sticking straight out the side of her head. They’re messy pigtails, with no part to speak of, and she’ll probably pull them out in an hour – but they’re there for now. And we’re here, living in the now.

i’m having cuteness pains!

What an utterly amazing two years it has been – and what an incredibly grateful and lucky mumma I am!

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Rejection, spiders and Dr. Seuss

No, this isn’t a joke. Although I kind of wish it was. And I actually wish spiders knew they’d be rejected (ie killed!) if they come anywhere near me or mine, so would just learn their lesson and stay away.

But that’s not what this post is about.

What do rejection and spiders have in common? They are my greatest fears. One is relatively well-founded. After all, spiders can be deadly. And the ones who have snuck into my homes over the years to terrorise me have all been at least the size of my head (scientific fact: people who are aracnophobic actually see spiders as larger than life) and would happily hurt me terribly if I let them get too close.

Rejection is a little harder to kill with a can of bug spray (or even hair spray, or any kind of spray you have handy). And it is such a crippling fear. This is no pity party: table for one post. This is just me being honest about (one of the things) that has been waking me at ridiculous hours the past few nights.

Fear of rejection.

That’s why I haven’t gone further down the path with a couple of projects I am working on. And it may (despite distinct lack of suiters!) be also why I am afraid to get out there and date again. I am so frightened that people aren’t going to like me – or my ideas – that I’m crippled to inaction.

If I were having this conversation with anyone other than myself – I have even imagined what I would say to Bubba in years to come if I had to have this conversation with her – I know what my advice would be. What is so frightening about the word no? It’s one tiny little insignificant word. And it doesn’t matter if you hear it one time, or you hear it one thousand times.

If you really believe in yourself – and in your projects and dreams – then keep going, keep moving forward!

So why is it so hard to take my own advice?

I was still pondering this on my way to work when fate intervened – Dr Seuss spoke to me (via a friend’s Facebook wall):

wise words

Okay Mumma, that’s the kick up the butt you needed for today. Time to take action and follow your dreams.

Because Dr. Seuss said so!

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Ch-ch-ch-changes

I am struggling to keep up with the ch-ch-ch-changes (and you were wondering what your earworm for today was going to be, weren’t you?)!

Not only did Bubba transition to her big girl forward facing car seat over the weekend, but she seemed to decide these would be the days she went from having two day time sleeps to one longer sleep in the middle of the day.

Bubba, a little forewarning for your mumma would be nice so I feel like I can keep up.

By late afternoon though, the change to one sleep can make a girl really tired. And struggle to keep her eyes open. Even though she is trying really hard not to nap – because in her new forward facing car seat there so much more to see.

ch-ch-ch-changes

Mumma always has earworms, which sounds really gross, but DJ Earworm does great mashups and 2009 United State of Pop is her favourite … just in case you needed to get David Bowie out of your ears!

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A lovely day

Yesterday was a lovely day.

Nothing in particular happened, we didn’t do anything too special – it was just filled with love.

From the moment I woke up – legs pinned between two fuzzy mutts – to the moment I closed my eyes with said fuzzy mutts snoozing peacefully on my bed, it was lovely.

Bubba and I went back to swimming lessons yesterday morning, having missed a week because of her cold. She was a brave girl and went right under a few times. She did attempt to drink half of the pool the first time, but seemed to learn pretty quickly to close her mouth for subsequent times.

We had a milestone too … she’s finally (at 16 months!) tall and heavy enough for her forward facing big girl car seat.

almost too little for the car seat – january 2011

last trip in the bubba car seat

first trip in her big girl car seat – may 2012

After the car seat transition, we headed out to have an afternoon glass of wine (mumma) and water (bubba) in the sunshine with the girls: aunty, a couple of her girlfriends, and our lovely friend Joy who is visiting from New York.

When it was time to come home, Bubba kept looking at me in the rear view mirror of the car and giggling. It’s a treat being able to see each other even more – although mumma is very careful of her driving.

At home our fuzzy loves were very happy to see us, happy for cuddles, happy to share balls with Bubba – and some of her dinner too. Bubba was full of kisses, giggles and cuddles for mumma.

Yep, that’s what I call a lovely day!

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