not so nice mummy blog

Today I have officially been sent to the brink of insanity by my son. I now consider myself well and truly a member of the Lunatic Mothers Screaming at Their Kids Club.  I only thank goodness that all surrounding neighbours are elderly and half are slightly deaf.

I don’t blog regularly about my kids, my bloke being the subject of most posts, however today’s events require a little venting for mental health purposes. For the record my aussie bloke has been wonderful and completely supportive… via text message, (this is the only conversation I can manage between tantrums and nappies, and all he can manage between jobs).

Today began as usual, crawling out of bed with a headache due to broken sleep. It dawns on me that playgroup is today.  I take a moment to think, there is a lot of work about to go into getting myself and two kids to playgroup, should I bother? This is where I made my mistake… Why not, it’ll be a nice morning out.

1 hour later with baby screaming, and shoes on the wrong feet of two year old we are getting packed into the car. I take a moment to think, Its not to late to turn around.

Nah, I decide, we’ll go to playgroup. Besides, we’re ready now. 

20 minutes later, 2 year old has timed his morning poo perfectly, and is stinking out the room while refusing to have his nappy changed. I take a moment to think. How the hell do you get willful toddler to change his nappy without a screaming match.

Ha! Stupid question, you can’t.

Moments later we are leaving playgroup, (perhaps removing him from playgroup will teach him a lesson). It takes 10 minutes to get 2 year old into carseat, ( its one of those days when I really wanted to break the law, bung him in the back and start to drive).

I take a moment to think, when I get home, IF we get home, we are never leaving the house again!

We got home.

While both kids are screaming on the floor I make myself a cup of tea and stare out the kitchen window. I consider all forms of legal punishments, (and some illegal). I take a moment to think. I remind myself why I had kids, this took a while. Once I remembered I held that thought and went back into battle.


the aussie family

When dating an aussie bloke you are of course thrown into the world of the traditional aussie family. I’ve sifted through some of his family photos and they represent reams of thongs (flip flops), short shorts, mullets (dodgy hair cuts), budgie smugglers (also known as mens Speedo swimmers), and incredibly tanned people. His upbringing is a far cry from my own, coming from the cold UK, where much of the time family photos are taken inside, everyone wearing woolly jumpers.


We’ve recently had relatives stay over for a week, my aussie man’s mother and his niece. We all had a great time, the kids playing and the adults chasing them around while we try to relax (as if, a 2 year old and a 3 year old make for unbridled chaos).

One thing you’ll be sure to get when aussie relo’s stay over is ultimate honesty, and now I know where my bloke gets it. If aussie’s don’t like something they’ll tell you. There is no room for pleasantries or or sugar coating, if they are thinking something good or bad, that opinion will be made public. It doesn’t matter who it offends.

No… this isn’t a dig at my mother-in-law, its a generalisation of true blue aussies. And I mean the real ones, not the metro-sexual, new age, yuppies, who despite being Australian have lost the patriotic charm.

The aussie community love their country, “the lucky country”, a mentality perhaps a throwback from the gold rush. (For a winging pomm (UK ex-pat), I don’t see the draw of the 40 degree heat, sun burn, bush fires and floods, but hey, I’m here aren’t I!) They are also incredibly protective of their country, to the point of offence (remember that honesty I mentioned), they’re not afraid to hide their opinions on immigrants (possibly a throwback of the Chinese invasion of the 1850s). But how do they expect to keep us all out when they keep telling us how friggin beautiful it is and how bloody lucky they are!