AN AUSTRALIAN study, widely publicised earlier this year, concluded there was “no such thing as baby brain”. Professor Helen Christensen, from the Australian National University, probably spent hours, days and months researching a report to show that there were no signs of motherhood impeding a woman’s cognitive function.
Well Prof. Christensen, I’ve got plenty of aneacdotal evidence compiled over the course of my wife’s two pregnancies and this week I gathered proof that baby brain may well affect women long after the birth.
You see my wife, Princess Kel, has not worked for some months. A journalist by profession, she went on leave well before the birth of our little one, Princess Holly, last October and has not been near the office since. Yet, after having cause to ring her at home on a Monday afternoon this week, Kel answered our home phone with the words “Good afternoon, editorial, Kellie speaking’’.
What followed was a couple of stunned seconds of silence from me and then fits of laughter from both of us after we realised what she’d done. No further proof needed. Baby brain exists
Princess Ella devouring her strawberries from “Santa''.
WEDNESDAY mornings are like Christmas in our house – minus chocolate for brekkie. The neighbours can hear Princess Ella’s squeals as the gift bearer arrives at the door. She then proceeds to explain how she’s got pink underpants on and “look, I’ve got strong muscles. See?’’ Vital information. After they leave, we excitedly unpack the parcels to see what they’ve left.
Of course, I already know what they’ve left. Yes, the Coles lady is like Santa Claus in our house.
With a five-month-old breastfed baby, heading to a supermarket with the worry I might have to back myself into the deli section to feed mid shop terrifies me. Add to that a preschooler who’s tempted by anything in a shiny wrapper and I fear the place more than the dentist (I’ve already had six teeth pulled in my lifetime).
So, when I discovered online grocery shopping I thought all my Christmases had come at once – and so did the three year old. Now, instead of screaming for the chocolates at the grocery counter, she’s squealing “look Mum, strawberries’’ in our kitchen.
Mind you, when I describe the Coles lady as being like Santa, I really do mean it. No, she’s doesn’t have a beard – that I’ve noticed, anyway. She’s like Saint Nic, because most weeks she brings us free samples. Granted, last week we were left disappointed because all we received was a small bottle of deodorant.
Ungrateful li’l…., you say. Well, it’s hard to take when the week prior we received:
Two packets of mini Milky Ways
Two packets of Cadburys assorted mini chocolates
Two gossip magazines
A box of Robert Timms coffee bags
Another mini deodorant
Vitamin water
A large bottle of spring water
A large V8 juice
Two big packets of Dorritos
All free! Clever marketing, I say. Although, I started to wonder if maybe the Coles lady had left behind someone else’s shopping. In fact, I didn’t touch any of it (despite Ella’s pleading) until the next day in fear she’d return and want them back.
Every time I heard a vehicle outside, I’d get Ella to check if it was the Coles lady. Of course, she obliged because, well, a second visit from Santa in one day would have made her the happiest girl in the world.
So, my answer to surviving grocery shopping with kids? Stay at home! The kids will love you for it.
Yum!
What are your tips for surviving shopping with the kids? Have you embraced online grocery shopping yet?
OUR li’l chatterbox, Princess Ella, talks so much it’s inevitable she’ll deliver at least one golden quote per day.
Because of this, we’re launching a new regular series titled She Said What? Feel free to send your own little one’s funny lines through to us via the Contact page and we’ll give them a run.
The Little Emperor asked Rachel who made him. “He followed this up by asking how had we got the bones in?’’ she said, laughing. “I knew the question would come up eventually, but wasn’t expecting it in that format. Thought it would be more of a: `where did I come from’. Awkward moments!’’
Classic!
Princess Ella was also concerned with her body this week, after not feeling 100 per cent. When I later asked her how she was feeling, she replied: “my tummy has a headache.’’.
Of course it does!
So, come on. Share what line your little one’s said that’s caused you to laugh this week?
Today also happens to coincide with the bloke in The Shed, Julian, posting about our li’l girl turning her nose up to all things green – except the green in her nose, of course. Preschoolers. Phuff!
Please, leave him a comment. We’d both appreciate any tips!
By Julian O’Brien
IN PRINCESS Ella, we used to think we had a dream child.
At first, Ella would eat anything; she even used to eat olives like they were M&Ms. Then something happened and she suddenly became extremely fussy about her vegies, particularly “the green ones’’.
She still has her favourites though. Raw carrot and mushrooms will be consumed faster than you can say “pickle me grandmother’’ and I have literally seen her devour a corn cob faster than Homer Simpson can shotgun a can of Duff Beer. She even ate the broccolini on her plate first the other day – probably because we called it “baby broccoli’’.
So, what to do?
Well, we disguise her veggies. We cooked zucchini in the form of both fritters and slice, combining them with some of her “favourites” such as corn, mushies and even bacon bits. It worked for a little while.
Then Princess Kel had a good idea: what about Spinach and Ricotta Cannelloni? That was OK till Ella found out you could unwrap the spinach and ricotta and just eat the pasta.
Meat? A whole other story. Like her dad, Ella is a meat girl, preferably steak. Recently, presentations of perfectly good rissoles and sausages have been met with “I want steak, please”. Scotch fillet, to be precise. Sheesh. Talk about expensive taste.
Thank goodness we only have to worry about boobie juice for Baby Holly … for the moment.
So how do you go with your fussy eater? What tips and tricks have you uncovered?
PRINCESS Ella is not the most graceful of dancers.
In fact, she inherited her dad’s flat feet, which means she struggles to grasp the concept of “dancing on toes’’ – she’s more like Babar the Elephant than Angelina Ballerina.
However, she reached the stage where she knew all the moves on every dance-related DVD she had, so we decided it was time to start dance lessons.
Many regular readers will have already seen the bloke in The Shed’s account of gearing up to take Ella to her very first dance lesson in The Beginning of the End.
So what happened?
Well, there’s always that fear that maybe she’ll just stand there, too shy to participate.
The instructor obviously knew this to be the case for many so offered for mums to take part in the class too. Fat chance. The last time I danced in public was under the influence of a bottle of wine and Lionel Ritchie. Hmmm.
Thankfully, my dancing wasn’t required. Ella took to the class like Victoria Beckham to dieting. It may have helped that she had a li’l friend along with her, which gave them both the confidence to stand right up the front. She likes the spotlight (check out her diva moment in the video from two years ago).
These are some of the golden moments from her first lesson:
• When asked to twinkle her fingers in the air, she responded loudly with: “Look, my mummy painted my fingernails with nail polish. See?’’ The dancing had to be halted while everyone looked at her fingernails.
• Each dancer had to choose an imaginary horse. Ella’s friend decided to bring her horse over to her mummy to “show’’ her. When the dance instructor later queried Ella’s friend as to whether she’d already chosen her horse, she replied: “yes, I left it over there near mum’s chair’’.
• Ella’s eyes lit up when she was asked to “jump like a kangaroo’’. Earlier that morning we’d discovered a frog in the house (not something we’ve ever encountered before), to which Ella responded with “look dad, he’s jumping like a kangaroo’’. Needless to say, she was proud to show off her kangaroo skills for the second time that day.
• Accidentally chest bumping another dancer footy style and then pretending like nothing happened. Ella barely moved; the other girl bounced and hit the floor.
• Half the class being named Sienna and hearing an echo of:.“that’s my name, too’’.
So, how did your little one adapt to their first dance lesson (or footy match)? What moments made you laugh?
TODAY I had cause to visit a health shop in the local mall.
Yes, those who know me can pick themselves up off the floor and stop laughing, but Princess Ella and I simply love pea chips.
While I was there I witnessed the following event which should serve as a timely lesson to female readers –
Lady shopper walking around the health shop talking loudly on her mobile phone, obviously to her husband: “I’ll meet you if you like, I’m just in the health food shop.”
Short pause.
“The health food shop, I’ll meet you there,” she said, cleary getting impatient.
“THE HEALTH FOOD SHOP,” she said, again trying to get the message through to her husband.
At this point I’d paid for my pea chips and walked out to be greeted by a bloke standing less than five metres away from the doorway talking on his mobile.
“Where IS the health shop?” he was saying loudly into his phone.
I tapped him on the shoulder: “Mate, you’re standing in front of it.”
