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Jolene's Mumbo-Jumbo!
Have you ever looked at other Super-Mums and marvelled at how well they cope with EVERYTHING? Immaculately groomed, well-mannered children and sparkling homes that make show-houses look grubby.
I think as Mothers and homemaker's we are possibly our own worst enemies when it comes to putting pressure on ourselves to get everything just right.
Jolene's Mumbo Jumbo is a real-life warts and all blog...to let other Mum's know what happens behind the scenes when the rest of the world isn't watching. It helps to realise we are all in the same boat, muddling along (sometimes without a clue) doing the best we can for the people we love (and crossing our fingers that we are getting at least some of it right!)
It is comforting to know that you aren't the only Mum out there that;
1. makes mistakes
2. occasionally feels so overwhelmed you yell, scream and throw yourself down on the ground (with a face full of tears and snot) beside the kids. (Just me, huh?)
3. Hasn't had the time, or more importantly the inclination, to wash your windows since 2008.
4. Still holds out a glimmer of hope that the cleaning-fairy does exist and will be paying you a visit very soon.
So fill up your coffee mug, top up your wine glass and join me for a giggle or two.
As if I don’t have enough to worry about trying to fight the ageing process and warding off laughter lines, crows feet, bingo wings, knickles (knee wrinkles) but now I must apparently add cleavage wrinkles to my list of beauty-fading paranoia.
Over the past week, I have been snuggling up in bed with Alli & Genine, and giggling the night away under the doona, I’ve even spent a blissful hour or so in a hot bubbly bath with them. Just so we are clear, I’m not talking about the Alli & Genine, but their new book ‘Issue? What Issues?’ It’s the real, raw and honest ramblings of a couple of 30-somethings – think Sex and the City meets Bridget Jones’s Diary - and it is a hoot a minute!
Faced with a cold wet weekend indoors with the kids I decided yesterday that some biscuit baking (followed by some biscuit scoffing) might be a nice way to while away some time with the children.
A few months ago, we moved Bubble into her first big girl bed. It was one of those ‘Hoorah-no-more-cots’ moments. Followed quickly by a very fleeting ‘Oh-dear-this-is slightly sad’ moment, which gave way almost immediately to the more permanent feeling of ‘Hoorah-no-more-cots!’
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shock face+kid pics on Sodahead
Recently, I had a visit from an old friend. (Or should that be a ‘playdate’ since she now has a young son of her own?)
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Unless you have spend the past three years with your head under a rock, it is pretty safe to say that you probably know who Nadya Suleman is – or Octomum as the media have dubbed her. Regardless of what your thoughts are on the controversial nature of her 8 babies conception, raising fourteen child’s singlehandedly is no mean feat. Since that particular bell can’t now be unrung, so to speak, I am a little tired to say the least of the ‘well she chose to have them argument.’ I have three small children that drive me to absolute distraction some days. Because I chose to have them, does that mean I should not be allowed to ask for help.
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