#733 Holiday BBQ

It’s not common of us to stay home when we have days off together, let alone when we go away. But today Hubbie had a great thought while we were out grabbing some food for lunch.

“Why don’t we do a bbq back at home?”

Home, for these two nights anyway, has been the place in Barwon Heads we’ve been staying at. Our balcony looks out onto the street, and there is a small yet very practical outdoor electric barbeque for use.

Sure, it meant we would have to do some extra prep here and there. But for some reason it appealed to me. Dinner by us, at home. I think it appealed in some level to all of us. We could relax. Go at our own pace. Baby girl could float in and out of the rooms as she pleased. We didn’t have to stress about noise levels. The toilet was right there. It was cheaper. And I could wear trakkies on the balcony if I wanted to.


It was great. The sun was shining; fellow apartment dwellers were on the same thread and bbq-ing out in the sun like we were; we waved from up high to passers-by; and then sat down to eat our simple spread.




Sure, we grabbed some takeaway chips too, just to add to that can’t-be-f$%ed holiday vibe. But it was different, it was relaxing, and though we were only at home, we still felt like, we were away.




#720 Teamwork and vomit.

Today we f&%ed up royally in the parenting game.

When I got home from work, baby girl engulfed me in a huge hug and flurry of kisses, before going on to explain that when she swallowed, it felt a bit sore… it tickled her a bit.

Having heard her cough a little last night, I thought she might be a little run down. Nothing major.

Even so, when Hubbie came home from work, together we asked her if she was okay to head out, or if she wanted to stay home and chill. Not only was it a Saturday afternoon, but it was the beginning of our holidays together, and we had been wanting to check out this Boho Luxe festival at Carlton… because, going BOHO.

She was first this way, and then that… before finally deciding “let’s go.”

I wiped her nose in the car as we drove the hour there, and then she fell asleep.

I gave her some snacks upon arrival. She was good. We walked around the market – it was not so good. Sure they had things like homewares and jewellery and tents and caravans, and clothes, ALL the clothes –

Wait. Hold up.

They had kids clothes, yes some gorgeous stalls. They had women’s clothes aplenty. 

But the main reason we had come, after Hubbie had been busting me for weeks about it…

The men’s clothing?

Practically NONE.

A couple of shirts here, and a small rack down one end that looked like second-hand wear… that’s it. How you could promote and create a Boho Festival, say that Byron Bay is coming down to Melbourne, and then NOT have men’s clothing, is beyond me. Ridiculous. Very, very disappointing.

But we had driven all that way, and baby girl was whining, so we headed towards the food trucks to get her some chips. But nope, that would also NOT DO.

Fine. Did she want a happy meal on the way home? (see we were horribly failing the parenting game even before the peak nightmare moment of the night).

Yes, she did. She was tired and dragging her feet, and we thought best we don’t push it, so we left for home… another hour drive.

Into Maccas we went, to be met with a 20 minute wait at the drive-through. Why we didn’t walk in and order was beyond me… oh that’s right, we were crabby from having driven into the Boho Luxe festival for nothing, and just couldn’t be stuffed.

It only got worse at home, when she then wouldn’t eat the happy meal, she just nibbled at some bread… and when I felt her head, she was hot… and then guess what?

The digital thermometer wasn’t working, and the kids Panadol meant to reduce the fever (that I wasn’t even sure of since I couldn’t get a reading, but a mothers touch just knows) was out of date, from November 2017.

Sigh. What else could go wrong?

Lots apparently. I sent Hubbie off on a wild goose chase, where he went to the supermarket to find they had no kids Panadol. No nearby chemists were open at that time either. While he was out and baby girl was lying on the floor complaining of being cold and watching Nick Jr, I called the ‘Nurse on Call’ and got some numbers of ‘kind of’ nearby places that were open then.

And off again Hubbie went. But by the time he got home, it was very late, and now baby girl was beyond reasoning.

She would not have the Panadol.

She was crying, and crying. Absolutely impossible. I tried to tell her that she was too hot, and that if she didn’t have the sugary sweet liquid, she’d have to go to a doctor. Nope she didn’t want that… or the Panadol. Sigh.

And when I went to check her temperature under her arm, she was so freaked out by the pointy shaped thermometer, thinking it to be a needle, that she pressed herself against her bedhead as I brought it near. I somehow convinced her it was ALL OK, and came back with a reading of 37.6 celcius. Not quite too high, but getting there. And after much tears, I got her to drink some of her Panadol…

the sticky and sweet liquid went down her throat… she wretched…

she gagged…

a little bit of the liquid bubbled up from her throat and out of her mouth…

she gagged again…

“No, no, have some water, you’ll be okay…”


She vomited, all down to the floor, somehow missing herself but getting my pjs and a whole leg covered in the gunk.


Oh man. Could this day get any worse?

After cleaning her up, we left everything as it was, and she fell asleep.

So what the hell am I grateful for here?


Our stupid trip to the massively disappointing Boho Luxe festival made our sweet little girl even worse as she exhausted herself walking, and by not eating anything fell into an even deeper spell of fever.

We felt horrible. We still do.

But even so, through the frustration and phone calls, the running here and there for Panadol, the “get me more paper towels!” and getting cranky with one another, we came together for the most important cause, and somehow got to the end of it all.

For one day anyway.

It’s called Parenthood, it’s called survival, and it’s what all parents experience at one time or another, the true test of a relationship – kids.

If you can practice teamwork through kids, bohos and vomit, and get through – you’re doing well.


#694 My imitator

When your child starts to copy the things you do and say, it can be pretty funny/sweet/horrible/ironic.

It’s all relative to the experience, you see.


I tell her not to touch things in a ‘special’ shop… she ignores this, but when another child enters and starts touching, she tells them “DON’T TOUCH!”


Hubbie and I are telling her how special and precious she is to us. “You make us soooo happy! We love you.”

She responds with “No, Mama Tato make me MORE happy! I like you MORE!”


I will be stuck in traffic and yelling at silly drivers. Suddenly she is laughing at me and saying “Duck?!” Whoops.


Tonight, I sat in her bed with her, reiterating to her, “no, only 1 book.”

Baby girl held up 3 instead. I was unusually cool for a moment like this, and just stared back at her, still.

“Mama,” she said to my non-response. “Breathe. Mama, BREATHE…”


#654 Mills Beach Love… and the ‘true story’ behind the photos

There is a whole other side to the sweet, loving and idyllic photos that people post so often on social media.

And that definitely includes MINE.

I generally do post more happy stuff… I used to sometimes rant about something that might annoy me, and only after reading other rants on facebook, did I realise it was really unnecessary, and negative-drawing. I didn’t really feel much better about myself, my life, or that person when I read such quotes, and it made me realise that stuff like that was not needed online.

Not to confuse a day-to-day ‘I’m so pissed at the traffic today’ rant with a serious issue that needs attention and addressing. No that is fine, pull ALL the support and help from ALL the social media outlets, and gather the troops around as much as you need with your furious words. We need your PASSION.

So, I do post occasionally about our day-to-day lives, more so when we are doing something fun – I mean, does anyone wanna see us sitting on the couch in our pjs eating breakfast and watching Shimmer and Shine? Yeah I thought not.

shimmer and shine

But the story behind the photo often runs so much deeper, it travels something like an episode of Mr. Bean, it can be that frustratingly hilarious and stupid.

Take TODAY. Perfect example.

It was hot, and we went to the beach. I posted a photo of Hubbie and baby girl… for certain reasons I will not repeat that photo here, but instead here is another:


You get my drift. Relaxation, fun in the sun, blue waters, chilling in the shade as I watch my family in the water…

Good times…

??? Or not?

Here is the REAL story. Because yes I am grateful we went to one of our favourite beaches today as a family on one of our few days off together, but seriously… we were ALL nearly crying at various stages.

Firstly, we got there late. 3:30pm, and this was after we stopped at Baker’s for some bread rolls, and Hubbie got a cheap knife from Woolies (more on that later) because he had forgotten to bring one from home, and then because he had a couple of beers for himself, he was ever so kind, through the 30+ degree heat of the day, to head over to the nearby Dan Murphy’s to get me some kind of mixed drink.

Hubbie and I hadn’t had lunch. Baby girl was the only fed one.

Arriving at the hottest time of the day with several bags, 3 beach chairs, a folded up tent, towels, and walking about in the hot sand when we were hungry and starving, is trying enough.

But we did it. We set up the tent, almost stuffing it up (but we made it!) and then I just launched into the water where baby girl was already playing, sitting down immediately it was that bloody beautifully warm.

So, all good. I headed back to the tent where Hubbie was getting some stuff ready, applying sunscreen for himself, etc etc… I went to get the drink Hubbie got for me.

Rekorderlig is not paying me but I won’t say no if they come knocking. 

So I found this cider and I was like “yes!” as it’s been ages since I had one. I went to open it up, looking at him questioningly as I said “screw top?”

“Yeah,” he replied casually, at the same time looking over to the bottle in my hand and his face dropping. Because he just realised that it is in fact NOT a screw top, and it required a bottle opener.


I sighed. I hadn’t eaten, Hubbie was getting crankier by the second, I could just feel the waves of irritation blowing off of him, and now we had no opener.

I wanted a bloody drink.

“We have one in the car,” he said, and I relaxed somewhat.

The way I am obsessed about tissue boxes being in every part of the house, scissors and nail clippers and nail filers being both upstairs and downstairs, he is a total fuss-pot and needs to have bottle openers scattered everywhere, house, car and probably his pants, because, IN CASE.

“Can you put some sunscreen on my back?” I asked him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Is that before or after you want me to get the bottle opener and make your lunch?”

I ignored him and smiled. “Yes now.” But we were already getting to that point.

So he went and got the bottle opener. I had a drink, and took the above photo. Fine. I joined him and baby girl in the shallow waters, and we splashed about. Also good. And then he went back to the tent to make my lunch.

Now, I didn’t tell him to make my lunch. We had previously decided on grabbing some of those spinach and cheese/pizza rolls at Baker’s as it was a quick and easy bite especially when we were at the beach. I would have made a pasta salad and brought it with us if our stove was connected – our house and kitchen area is still a mess. So this is what I was thinking, this is what we even said out loud to each other… but then this dude of mine, somehow decided that it would be easier, to buy plain rolls at Baker’s, and then fill them… himself…

You know what he brought with him? Tuna, feta, and tomato. On a 34 degree day amidst SAND.

MORE on that debacle later.

Meanwhile, baby girl and I were in the water. It was amazing, and we were having a ball. I kept asking her, “do you have to go pee?” because I was just getting this vibe off her, I know her so well. She was saying no, so I would let the topic go, but then she’d pipe up “I don’t have to go pee.”

When she says she doesn’t have to go pee, I KNOW she HAS to go and pee.

I finally convinced her to go and pee before coming back. “I promise honey, we are coming back, I wouldn’t lie to you.” She took my hand and off we went.

Now, this is a purely female thing, and I say this because I told Hubbie and he had no idea… but after being in the water for a bit, when us chicks have to pee later, sometimes the urine comes out warm. I know, I’m sorry, using words like URINE and all, bad enough I’m saying PEE. I think it has something to do with our nether-regions being all cold, and our urine isn’t actually warm, it’s our parts that our cold, therefore our urine feels warm.

Enough explanation, if anyone actually knows, please advise in the comments below.

I sat baby girl on the toilet seat, and waited. She immediately yelled “ouch!” and started to whinge/cry. I ascertained that it was her pee, as she has reacted a bit like that before, but not so strongly. I was telling her, comforting her and saying “it’s just a bit warm, everything is ok, it’s not that bad,” but then she suddenly wasn’t peeing – she was holding on – and I was getting worried/upset. Worried because it is not good to hold in your pee (being a Mum shit like this scares you as kids can easily develop infections) but also upset because it is NOT THAT BAD AND SHE IS BEING A DRAMA QUEEN.

For at least 5 minutes I stayed with her in the loo as she got upset at not peeing/holding it in. I tried to console her, then I played bad cop and was like “we’ll go home if you don’t go toilet, you have to go!” But she was STILL upset and said “go home.”

Go home? This girl LOVES the water! Something must not have been right if she was happy to go home.

I got her out of there, REALLY mad. I stomped/limped across the hot sand, baby girl limping too behind me, as we got to Hubbie…

slaving away in the tent.

“I am not happy!” I told him, proceeding to go on about how she wouldn’t ‘go,’ but she had to ‘go,’ but she was holding it in. I told him that we were going home. You know… reverse psychology?

And he went “yeah let’s go… it’s been a shit day.”


He continued. “I’m never doing this again!” He had his newly-bought $3 knife, wrappers, a plastic bag as a rubbish bin, food and tins and all kinds of crumbs all around him, and he was SWEATING. “I’m here making YOUR sandwich, it’s a mess, I’m hot, it’s at least 10 degrees hotter in this tent…”

Meanwhile, I was trying SO damn hard to keep my cool. I ended up convincing baby girl to try and pee in the grass behind the beach boxes, as maybe the novelty would help her relax.

Nope. Instead I ended up with something that resembled a small leech on my leg that wouldn’t come off until I scratched it off, and off we went back to the tent, MORE MAD/SAD.

I pretty much ordered her to stay in there, and not move until she went to the loo first. She resigned herself to this, and I sat down to eat this God-damn roll Hubbie had prepared for me, as he sooked and moaned. He pushed the side of the tent away from him as a sudden strong breeze blew the tent wall against him, swearing loudly, and a nearby girl looked over at us as she heard it.

We are European-descendants people. We don’t swear/argue in public. How EMBARRASSMENT. I unleashed.

“Can you fix your f*&king attitude? Honestly all day today, can you just look at yourself? Did I ask you to make me a bloody sandwich, NO, I don’t know what is wrong with you, who brings tuna and feta and a tomato they have to cut at the beach?! There is sand everywhere!”

Like, what the actual fuck.

He went quiet, as I went quiet, chomping on this odd combo of tuna/feta/tomato that somehow worked in a seriously strange way which I would NEVER TELL HIM, picking out the chilli piece in the tuna that he FORGOT TO REMOVE.

Baby girl chomped on a bread roll, Hubbie just sat, and in a few minutes I was back in the water, trying to make her all jelly that she wasn’t allowed to go in. Mean parental tactics maybe, but I was trying to prevent an infection damn it!

In the end, this stubborn girl (wonder where she gets that from?) won. Hubbie ‘let’ her come down to the water, and though I contested it at first, I let it go.

Just like Elsa. LET IT GO.



Which leads me to this next pic.


Don’t they look serene? Isn’t the water just so sparkling and magical? Oh the joy to go to the beach with your family? Oh, WHAT LOVE! ♥♥


You see? You see the shit we had to go through? Hubbie swearing against the tent, the beach, the weather, the sand, about ALL MANNER OF SHIT, baby girl refusing to take a shit or anything else for that matter, and then me, trying to hold the insanity together, and trying so damn hard to ‘think positive.’



Not f*&king easy! :):):)

Yes, we did end up having a really great day, eventually… we were kind of like an overseas commercial at one stage, the one promoting the family having an awesome time on a beach getaway as they all go crazy splashing each other and laughing like mad. We were so Hawaii.  But don’t get too jelly, because when we got home, we were tired and cranky, ate dinner late, Hubbie was a yo-yo as his mood swung from relieved to cranky to funny to shitty, and I was there like


Both my babes are sleeping now so I love them sooo much. But before.


Just a reminder that not all things are as they appear in the photos. I still love Mills Beach. I loved our day together. But I think I could have done without the Mr. Bean dramas…

And closure for those keeping score. I realised once we were much happier later on in the afternoon that there is an opening at the back of the tent that can be zipped open, allowing cool air to waft through, keeping it at the same temp as outside. Hear that Hubbie?

And baby girl held her pee in until she got home… and then went normally.

So I actually don’t know what was wrong earlier, or what in fact happened. Much like ALL OF MOTHERHOOD.






#640 Saved by the Family

“I’m f^&ked,” I wrote to Hubbie from work this morning. “Heads up.”

He knew what that meant. That meant I was going to come home later in the day, plonk myself on the couch, and moan about how much pain I was in.

And I did exactly that.

Baby girl assisted by sitting really close to me and telling me I was her best friend in the whole world, cradling my face from time to time, and saying every so often “yay, Mama home.”

Hubbie helped by cooking dinner and doing ALL the washing up.

Both HUGE things. I mean, love, attention, food and home maintenance… I should get sick more often, yeah?

NO. Most definitely, no.

Back to normal tomorrow please.

But it is nice to know, my loved ones have my back. ♥


Photo by Daria Nepriakhina on Unsplash


#585 Sunnies season

We’re back, bitches.


Yep. My old faves, the Dolce & Gabbana sunnies ARE BACK. I usually put them in hibernation sometime around June, to hide away in a drawer somewhere, at the first nasty sign of freezing weather, yet still whispering to them encouragingly “never mind my dears, soon.”

Yep. Soon. Well, kind of soon. 3 months. And today as I took these beauties out, my eyes suddenly relaxing against the squinty sunlight, it was all… “ahhhh.”


Because the Spring change is most certainly here. And with it, some much needed Spring sunshine…

#537 New ducted heating!


Baby girl is walking around rosy-cheeked again.

The new ducted heating is here.


The pain is OVER. We have gone all high-tech and with the times with this beauty


It regulates temperature, and even has programmable timeslots so that you can have the heater come on at a pre-determined time… un-fucking-believable.

Just like when my new car had a 6 stack CD player, I am soooo behind in the times.

Our old heater, both here and at our old place, was some 80s-90s contraption, where you had to pull the lever across to the desired temperature of 20+ ‘something,’ but even that ‘set temperature’ was questionable at times.

Tonight, it got hot. Like really hot. This is right on time, since my Dad told me the weekend ahead is set to expect some major Winter-y blasts.

And just for the record, when I was freezing my ass off in the house yesterday as the tradies were in the midst of installing new said-heater? Yeah, well, coldest August day for DECADES.

Still, the icy blasts that will set upon us are timely, since we now have heating, bitches. Take that Winter, mwa ha ha.

So toasty and grateful right now 🙂