tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71068331468324345822010-02-19T15:22:19.209+11:00Take a light hearted look at the issues faced by mums home with the kids. Read some personal views on the challenges of raising children today, and the pressures mums face. My website - <a href="http://www.athomemums.com/">www.athomemums.com</a> - has some more serious and hopefully useful stuff on all these topics. I'd love to get your comments and advice. If anyone out there can help this mum maintain her sanity, it would be much appreciated!Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-50911603391998597252009-11-28T20:49:00.004+11:002009-11-28T21:07:39.578+11:00

The other half came home from work the other day via the hairdressers. He had a number 1 1/2 round the sides and a number 3 on top, which for those who don't know their numbers, is pretty short. Michael was quite impressed but became concerned when he looked at his own hair, which was last cut about 4 months ago and is a little long right now. 'Do you want a haircut like Dad's?' the other half

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-9127122002883294762009-11-08T20:41:00.007+11:002009-11-08T21:42:46.208+11:00

Kisses and cuddles. Hugs and love. My 3 year old has a ready supply and I'm a willing recipitant. 'Give us a kiss' I say and he puckers up. I aim for his cheek and he takes my face in his hands and plants one on my lips.Now, I come from an English family where hugs and kisses don't come naturally and I still hesitate in social situations when it comes to the hellos and goodbyes. To kiss or not to

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-16317953857808103202009-08-25T11:52:00.008+10:002009-08-25T12:27:58.078+10:00

I was just reading an article that said that 56 % of Aussies interviewed would rather have a good night's sleep than sex. And I have to say, right now, I'm with them. It didn't say how many men or women were surveyed, how old they were, whether they had kids, were in a relationship or gagging for it (sorry!), so my suspicions are that the figures might be over stated. But, I have to say, that if

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-9858914405696520242009-08-17T13:48:00.001+10:002009-08-18T11:29:14.883+10:00

I have been reading a book called 'How to be a Happy Mum', and found the section on friendships quite interesting. It made me reflect on being a mum and the friendships you find and lose over time.A lot of mums feel very isolated when they first have their babies. They have moved from the working world where they had day to day interaction with their colleagues, and often socialised of an evening

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-59562180446533756812009-08-10T10:31:00.005+10:002009-08-10T14:33:38.580+10:00

Today the ants found the pantry. Until now I've been able to keep them to the other side of the kitchen where they regularly march in to see what tiny scraps we have accidentally left on the kitchen surface, or whether, to their great joy, I have left the honey out, again. We have sprayed outside and in, but they are determined little creatures and losing a couple of hundred of their comrades

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-2672770640524969632009-07-27T10:40:00.010+10:002009-07-27T14:29:34.721+10:00

I have an annoying habit of re-living social situations seemingly in case I did something disasterous and our guests didn't actually enjoy themselves. This even applied to the 5 year old birthday party. I say even, but in reality, we have done very few social events since number 2 arrived, so having 20 kids, plus mums to our house was a major social event for me. I have, of course, vowed never to

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-5080956049365239902009-07-11T12:09:00.011+10:002009-07-11T14:28:51.139+10:00

It is Holly's 5th birthday on Thursday, so today we wrapped her presents. And when I say we, I mean Holly and me. I did suggest I ought to wrap them without her, so they'd be a surprise, but no, that's not the way this birthday is going. It is Holly's birthday, and Holly is in charge. So if Holly says she'll wrap the presents, then who am I to complain? After all it saves it being a last minute

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-27447732524863460162009-06-28T13:29:00.003+10:002009-06-29T14:44:38.342+10:00

I have spent hours agonising over the right choice of school for our daughter. I have done the school visits, I have questioned everyone I know on which school they chose or are choosing, and what they think, and this year I've sent the other half to all the open days, largely because he will definitely have an opinion and I want it to be an informed opinion.Last year the question was should we

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-21315358668470858532009-06-22T10:58:00.019+10:002009-06-23T12:03:45.166+10:00

I went to a lingerie party on Saturday evening.I wasn't sure whether to go, because I'd had a 40th dinner earlier in the week, and a social committee meeting for the pre-school, so I'd already called on the other half to do the bedtime stories and tucking in twice this week. But, when I mentioned lingerie, he was practically pushing me out of the door. I wasn't going to buy anything (of course)

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-39974334157588579862009-06-16T11:56:00.009+10:002009-06-16T13:00:17.838+10:00

A friend of mine turns 40 today so I've been scouring the shops for the perfect birthday card. (Actually, I had 5 minutes to spare before drop off time this morning and luckily found one that appealed before the children had a chance to run a muck in the card shop). I don't like buying birthday cards. They never have quite the right sentiment, and I worry that the ones that appeal to my sense of

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-33617174734751358042009-05-25T14:00:00.008+10:002009-06-02T11:36:52.798+10:00

We've recently moved from reading bedtime stories, to telling imaginary stories. As I've said before, I'm a bit lacking in imagination, so this is trickier than it sounds, and at 7:30 at night the thing I'm imagining is sitting with a glass of wine in front of the television, in relative peace, which is not what Holly wants to hear. But I'm happy to give it a go, especially as we avoid the half

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-54765963513437878862009-05-24T19:31:00.002+10:002009-05-25T14:24:17.175+10:00

'Hands up who wants to play mums and dads??''Not me, please not me', I think, trying to fade into the background. 'No thanks', I say.'But we need a mum. Mikey's the cat and I'm the dog, and we need a mum''I think you should be two orphan animals who have lost their mummy and daddy and go on a big adventure''No, we need a mum''Sorry, I'm busy', (making dinner, folding the washing, having a cup of

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-27169094111516667452009-05-18T13:14:00.009+10:002009-05-18T14:37:39.242+10:00

'Mummy', Holly shouts up the stairs excitedly (we were having a private stair gate moment at the time). 'Mikey's done a wee on the potty!'.'Well done Mikey, excellent, good boy'. We shout back our encouragement.'And he's done a poo on the floor', Holly continues.There goes our stair gate moment.We're toilet training at the moment, and Holly has been a constant source of encouragement for her

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-71541119081119531622009-05-12T11:03:00.004+10:002009-05-12T12:05:05.784+10:00

We have cats. Two cats actually. Bobcat and Pumpkin. Bobcat is the sensible one. He leaves the house early, finds a spot elsewhere for the day, and returns when the children have gone to bed, for some food and a little bit of attention. Sometimes he times it wrong, but he's quick and he has an attitude that says 'Don't mess with me', so the children generally leave him alone.Pumpkin however,

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-74224203684360440682009-05-04T18:46:00.017+10:002009-05-05T14:21:21.333+10:00

Do you ever feel you might be losing your edge slightly? Have you experienced baby brain since having children? I have, and my concern now is whether it's recoverable, or a permanent situation. If I had to go back to the work force tomorrow and get that brain going again, would it happen?Concentration spans have reduced. Since children, I have not been able to focus on one thing for more than a

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-36057839641377710082009-04-27T10:32:00.008+10:002009-04-27T11:23:19.482+10:00

I've just dropped the kids at pre-school and occasional care, and realised as I was pulling in the driveway that I had just listened to Hi-5 for the 10 minute journey home, alone. Does this show: a) It's not that bad and I actually quite like Hi-5,b) I have been conditioned so well by the children that I automatically choose their music over mine, or c) I have trained myself to ignore it and just

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-41258890597697588012009-04-14T11:45:00.006+10:002009-04-14T12:06:16.381+10:00

We were caught in the act at the weekend. 'Oh God' the other half said, but there was no moment of pleasure involved. Our determined 4 and 1/2 year old had scaled the gate at the top of the stairs, designed to prevent such an occurrence, should the lure of the TV not be enough to keep her downstairs for 10 minutes.Luckily for us, she wasn't particularly interested. I explained that mummy and

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-78332662268696157902009-04-07T12:43:00.001+10:002009-04-07T12:43:35.255+10:00

The other half had a boys' night out a couple of weeks ago, and one of his mates stayed over at our place. In the morning, while the other half was still nursing a hangover in bed, his mate was up and about with me and the kids, trying to be sociable long enough to look polite before he escaped to his single life and presumably a more comfy bed.I asked him about mutual friends, he asked me

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-11280668898506550662009-04-02T08:22:00.012+11:002009-04-02T12:28:06.076+11:00

After a full on day at the office, I often used to have work thoughts going round in my mind as I tried to go to sleep. Now, after a full on day with the kids, I have Wiggles songs, or Hi-5. Surprisingly enough, they are just as effective at keeping me awake, and possibly more annoying.We managed, somehow, for 4 years, not to have any children's CDs in the car. This was partly because our old car

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-24804404729254072112009-03-25T16:32:00.012+11:002009-03-25T18:56:56.036+11:00

"Are those your children", the librarian asked, as I queued to get our books signed out. I turned briefly, in the hope there was someone else behind me with worse behaved children than mine. No one. I contemplated complete denial, but short of abandoning them, and the books, this wasn't going to fly. "Yes, they're mine""Well you know there's no running in the library"Actually, no, there's no

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-71527827893286592912009-03-22T08:24:00.025+11:002009-03-23T14:00:21.083+11:00

Gym junkie mums. You know them because they're the ones who are dressed in lycra shorts and running shoes at pre-school drop off and who drop and run (literally) to the gym for the 9:30 class. They're the ones who discuss the merits of the different personal trainers and enthuse about how great the 5:30am spin class with Warren is. They are also the ones with the perfect bodies who look happy and

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-42897833308636944052009-03-17T11:15:00.002+11:002009-03-17T11:21:53.787+11:00

We have a swimming pool in our backyard, and I worry about it a lot. My kids love the water and officially they know that they must never go into the pool area without an adult, but kids are kids and they have no concept of safety. They haven't been badly hurt and they haven't seen badly hurt, so they only have mum telling them about it. How do you explain to a 4 year old what drowning is,

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-56746495518397270332009-03-16T14:28:00.000+11:002009-03-16T14:43:07.801+11:00

'I looked in the mirror and they're still round', Holly said earlier. It took me a while to figure out what she was talking about. She wanted to know if she could watch more television. I felt a bit guilty about the 'square eyed' comment I made a few weeks ago, which obviously stuck, and concerns her slightly. But, given the option, my 4 1/2 year old would be a couch potato in the making, so

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-49113557431709616532009-03-11T17:17:00.009+11:002009-03-11T19:07:05.290+11:00

I dreamt last night that my 4 1/2 year old, plus my mum and dad were eaten by a crocodile. We'd been for a picnic by the river and chose an area covered in long grass. While I was distracted by something up river, the crocodile struck, and all that was left was Holly's white leggings with the frilly bits round the bottom. In the meantime, a friend of mine was bugging me about which handbag she

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106833146832434582.post-2603929442635155192009-03-09T14:31:00.009+11:002009-03-09T20:42:43.835+11:00

We have found a whole new use for our stair gate. Put the television on downstairs, lock the gate at the top of the stairs, and take some time out for yourselves without risk of a little person coming in at the vital moment. Ok, so they can still stand at the top of the stairs and yell at you, but it gives you time to regain some composure or shout back a delaying tactic.A friend was horrified

Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00221092524317999769noreply@blogger.com0