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Tag: laugh

  • FEATURE: Get by with a little help from my (imaginary) friends

    FEATURE: Get by with a little help from my (imaginary) friends

    Ella is a social butterfly… with all her imaginary friends!

    PRINCESS Ella astounds me with the extent of her imagination. While once I would have been concerned that she was spending too much time at night reading books to her imaginary friends in bed, I’m now super proud. “Can you find the letter eeee, Teddy? Yes, that’s right. Good boy, Teddy’’.

    You see, this strange behaviour isn’t going to see her turn into Mel Gibson. Apparently, children with imaginary friends retain knowledge faster than other children, are more sociable and more creative. Or so I read somewhere. I’ll be whipping out our favourite Chocolate Brownie recipe and inviting more friends over, I think.

    Ella also walks around the house, pretend mobile phone cradled between her ear and shoulder, parroting an adult’s conversation to a “friend” on the phone. I’m guessing she’s either mimicking her dad or a child care worker. It couldn’t be me.

    The conversation usually goes something like this: “Oh, I know. That’s terrific. She’s been such a good girl today. I know. I’ll just write that down on a piece of paper (scrambles for paper and a crayon). Now, let me see. It’s e, u, h, k. I know. I know. Yes, I know.’’

    Mostly, her imagination has helped spawn incredible art work. Just look at this elephant she drew. Remember, she’s only three – and that long thing is its trunk.

    Then, only two days ago, while I was trying to get Baby Holly to sleep, she was busy with her craft and card making. I came out to find she’d made this rabbit for her cousin’s birthday. All. By. Herself.

    She proudly showed it off to me by lifting it up to my face. At this point, the taped on ear flopped downwards. “Oh dear, mum’’ she said, in a rather sad voice. “He’s got a floppy ear’’.

    However, there is a downside to having a child with a vivid imagination. A couple of weeks ago she had a play date with her cousin of the same age. The pair ran around the house, laughing and squealing because a monster was chasing them.

    Then, suddenly, everything went quiet. No, don’t worry, the monster didn’t eat them. Wondering exactly what mischief they might be into, her mum and I started searching through the house. Here the girls were, in my bed, in the nudie rudie playing hairdressers, doctors …. and massages. Worrying, or what?

    How do you foster your child’s imagination? Does your child have imaginary friends?

  • LESSON FOR WIVES No. 5: Big Girls Don’t Cry

    LESSON FOR WIVES No. 5: Big Girls Don’t Cry

    The photo Ella will hate Kel for in years to come.

    I’M PRETTY sure when you are in the process of scolding a three-year-old it is not OK to giggle. Picture the scene: Princess Kel is trying to dish up dinner, I’m cradling a tired and grumpy six-month-old and Princess Ella (the three-year-old) is proceeding to whine at great volume about anything and everything.

    Then, Princess Ella erupts into tears because mum won’t put her on the bench (where her sole intent is to dirty the already clean washing up sitting nearby). Kel proceeds to tell her it’s dangerous to sit on the bench by herself. “But I’m a big girl,’’ comes the reply from Ella.

    It’s on the end of a frustrated lecture that Princess Kel finishes off with the sentence: “big girls don’t cry’’. There’s an awkward moment of silence, followed by muffled laughter from Kel and I as we clearly both image the falsetto voices of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons launching into the ’60s song of the same name, Big Girls Don’t Cry. If only our lives were a musical.

    It got me thinking about other song titles we might find helpful when disciplining our “little angels’’. Here’s a few suggestions:

    What’s Going On – Marvin Gaye

    Respect – Aretha Franklin

    Walk This Way – Aerosmith and Run DMC

    You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me – Dusty Springfield

    I Fought the Law – Bobby Fuller Four

    Fortunate Son – Creedance Cleawater Revival

    You Can’t Always Get What You Want – Rolling Stones

    Go Your Own Way – Fleetwood Mac

    I Can’t Make You Love Me – Bonnie Raitt

    Voodoo Child – Jimi Hendrix

    Any other suggestions?

    Read more Lessons for Wives.

  • FEATURE: From bump to baby in six hours

    FEATURE: From bump to baby in six hours

    Ella in hospital

    MY MIDWIFE might have been joking, but I was taking her ‘’hot bath, hot curry and hot sex’’ advice to bring on labour seriously. I was due Melbourne Cup Day, but our unborn baby girl wasn’t budging. My hubby, Julian, was secretly thankful, knowing he could watch the Cup in peace – so to speak.

    Our obstetrician decided to induce me six days later, but in the meantime I was determined to do everything to bring on this labour naturally – if you can call rompy pompy when you’re the size of a hippo ‘’natural’’.

    By the Sunday night, I finally resigned myself to the fact that at 8am the following day I would be induced. But, it seems, our bub had other plans. At 5am, three hours before our scheduled induction, my waters broke. All I had to say was: ‘’ah, darling . . .’’ and Julian’s face turned from peaceful sleep to sheer terror.

    The bump

    Excited and a little scared at the same time, I rang our midwife who calmly suggested I rest as much as I could. ‘’Nothing is going to happen until at least dinner time but, if you feel you need to, come in at lunch time.’’ The lunch time option sounded good to me.

    However, once again, our unborn bub had other ideas when my contractions quickly moved to 12 minutes apart within an hour and had us reaching for the phone again. ‘’We’re on our way…‘’

    While Julian had the car packed and ready within 10 minutes (the fastest he’s ever moved), it somehow took me a good hour to get from the bed to the shower and downstairs to the car. Well, I did have to shave my legs and things.

    Curled up next to the baby car seat ready for the trip to hospital, it wasn’t ‘til the door was shut and my knees ended up around my neck that I realised how little space there was. This, and I’m not even five foot!

    As my grunting increased with every roundabout we hit, Julian watched the car clock as the contractions moved from eight minutes to three minutes apart. Half an hour later and he was battling to get me out of our trusty Commodore and into the labour ward – I was more than happy to have this baby on the back seat.

    His frustration only grew when the midwife left us alone in the labour ward without first checking me. One contraction began to come directly on top of the next. My grip on his t-shirt tightened. My grunting increased. He was panicking. He barely took his eyes off the labour ward door just waiting for someone to walk through. Someone. Anyone.

    An hour later and he couldn’t take it anymore, strongly insisting someone take a look at me. Finally, someone checked the graph.

    Mum, Dad and new bub

    ‘’Ooh, do you mind if we do an internal?’’ the midwife asked, with an obvious surprised tone in her voice. Then her surprise grew – I was already eight centimetres dilated. This baby was on its way.

    You couldn’t wipe the grins from our faces – me, because we‘d gotten this far by ourselves and without requiring or wanting drugs, and Julian, because he no longer had to fear delivering this baby on his own.

    After nearly two hours of pushing, we finally met our beautiful 6 lb, 13 oz baby girl Ella Mae O’Brien who was born naturally at 11.37am – well before lunch, let alone dinner.

    That little girl is now three and still does everything on “her schedule’’ but, to be honest, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

    Here’s a video I put together of Ella’s first year of life. Enjoy!

    Taking part in Torkona’s First Born Birth Story competition and the DPA May Blog Carnival hosted by Colin Wee of Super Parents

  • SHED: It ain’t all black and white

    SHED: It ain’t all black and white

    Ella dressed in Julian's Collingwood scarf and hat

    SHE must have caught me at a weak moment. I know a deal was done, I just don’t exactly remember when or how.

    Let me explain. When Princess Kel was pregnant with our first (which turned out to be Princess Ella), we agreed: If it was a boy it would be a Collingwood supporter; a girl would be a Carlton supporter. Yep, Kellie supports the Blues and I follow the Pies (and despite this we still are happily married and have been for eight years).

    For a while the deal remained true. Kellie would take great delight when I screamed out “GO PIES!’’ and Ella would reply “go the Blues’’.

    But then the tide turned. Ella started to see in black and white. It could have been the fact Collingwood had a winning year last year so she saw the joy it brought me, the fact I constantly played the club song to her during the final series or me getting her a Collingwood footy.

    Whatever, but when I sing out “Go Pies’’ now, Ella echoes it. She even requests “Good Ol’ Collingwood Forever’’ instead of “Twinkle, Twinkle’’ during our bedtime sing-a-longs. She was also more than happy to don my beanie and scarf for a photo which I posted on Facebook (as you can see). These were some of the responses –

    Moya: “child abuse’’.

    Jason: “Now that is just wrong on so many levels’’.

    Angus: “Congrats on giving your child the best possible start in life.’’

    Emma: “Stop it Julian, you’re embarrassing her!! Kel, make it stop!’’

    Kellie: “ I’ll never have an afternoon nap ever again. My poor Carlton-loving daughter…’’

    Deep down, I know I’ve brain-washed my little girl and deep down I know Kel thinks I have reneged on a deal. She can hardly complain though. There is a long tradition of first-born daughters following their father’s footsteps. Why does Kel support Carlton? Because her dad does ….

    Have you influenced which footy team your child supports?

    Don’t forget to vote for Julian in the Top 25 Daddy Bloggers.

  • Grateful for underpants

    Grateful for underpants

    Holly's new toothy smile

    This week I’m grateful for:

    1. Underpants. Thankfully, Ella had knickers on at dancing this week. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, may I suggest you read When life goes bottoms up. Good if you like to have a giggle at someone else’s expense!
    2. Toothy pegs finally breaking through. Baby Holly popped her first tooth this week… and her second. There’s no point doing things in halves!
    3. My first paid PR job, including “Skype meeting’’. The wonderful Kat Cho from Deals for Mum gave me my first (unexpected) PR job this week. And my business isn’t even set up yet! I spent ages doing my hair, makeup, dressing nicely (well, from the waist up) and even sprayed on a bit of perfume to hide the baby spew smell (just in case you can smell someone while Skyping them! Cue: hubby rolling his eyes).
    4. Most importantly, the fact that when sleep deprivation has been all too much (due to No. 2), there’s always been something to make me giggle (see No. 1) and smile (see No. 3). I love my life!

    Tell us, what are you grateful for this week?

    I’m joining with  Maxabella Loves to share what I’m grateful for.

  • FEATURE: When life goes bottoms up

    FEATURE: When life goes bottoms up

    Ella's dancing feet

    WHEN preparing for three-year-old Ella’s dance lesson in the morning, I’ll be double, no triple, checking we have EVERYTHING. Why? Well first, let’s rewind to last Friday morning.

    Last Friday was particularly hectic – there was breastfeeding to be done, bags to pack, dishwashers to clear (well, only one dishwasher) and bottoms to be wiped. “No mum, I can wipe my own bottom’’. Here we go. “Of course you can, darling. Just make sure you put your underpants back on, OK?’’

    Let’s just say this conversation went on for a while (I won’t bore you with the script) and ended with “I’ll put them on later’’. Fine, put them on later. I’ve got other things to do. Ah, we spend so long pushing for the day our li’l people become independent, little realising the ramifications.

    You see, half way through her dance lesson, as I bounced Baby Holly on my lap, the dance teacher instructed her li’l subjects to lie back, feet in the air and pretend to be seals balancing a ball on their toes. It looked so gorgeous. Twenty sets of little feet cycling towards the sky.

    Then a thought crossed my mind, my body suddenly felt hot and I slightly choked. Had Ella put her pants on in the end? If not, there were quite a few people now getting an eye full. Yep, she was as naked as the day she was born.

    “Next, let’s all twinkle our fingers in the air, now bend over and touch the floor.’’ Nooooooooo. Please. She hasn’t got pants on. Too late. The other mums around me were in absolute hysterics. I had my hands full with Holly and could do nothing but watch it all unfold.

    A few minutes later Ella runs over to me. Little does she realise just how much of herself she’s revealed to her peers. I quickly do the hand-up-the-dress thing just to confirm what I already know and indeed, there are no underdaks covering the “front and back bum’’. I try to convince her that we need to get her spare pants out of her bag before the next dance begins, but she runs off laughing. Yeah, real funny.

    Finally, when dancing has finished, she complies and happily jumps into a pair of stripey pink and white knickers. Too late now, love. Everyone’s already seen what you had for breakfast. *sigh*

    So, my lesson to you is, fight for your little people’s independence, sure. But understand, as with everything, there are consequences.

    Do you have issues with keeping your child in underpants? Or is it just my child?

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    This post is part of FlogYoBlog Friday. Click on the links to read some incredible posts from around the mummy blogosphere!
    Click on the links to read some incredible posts from around the mummy blogosphere!