Brazenmom

Nature can be fearsome; tsunamis, hurricanes, cyclones, volcanoes, earthquakes… rustling leaves.

The gurus of all things mommy say that sometimes children have strange phobias and that parents should never mock or belittle their children if they develop a fear of something… well, something random I guess.

I agree. Is it okay if we mock them behind their backs? I’ll say ‘yes’ for the sake of my story and make sure that my nineteen-month-old daughter only reads it when she has developed a sense of humour. Read the rest of this entry »

My little girl loves animals, animals and insects (flies included), but the ones that go ‘quack quack’ are particularly cool.

I took my cheeky-chops to Hyde Park the other day to hang out with the ducks and swing some delicious bread their way. She had a ball and showed no fear when a rather large ducky came her way ready to peck the bread right out of her hand. Said bread was hurriedly plucked from said toddler’s hand and tossed into the lake where said duck took a rather voracious dive.

When Amelia wondered off on one of her man-on-a-mission tangents (instigated by the site of a puddle that was calling to be splashed in), I took it as a tacit sign that she was over the ducks.

Many puddles later, we discovered a herd of pigeons – yes, a herd. Read the rest of this entry »

Dear Diary, I need to pick your brain. Desperately.

So here’s the deal: in November we’re hauling our asses on a plane to South Africa to visit family and friends. It’s a 12-ish hour stop-over flight that travels overnight. And I can think of nothing more unpleasant.

Seriously.

I prefer the thought of gouging my eye with a blunt knife (even a spoon) to imagining the tedious horror of keeping my daughter occupied for the flight’s duration. “She’ll sleep” you tell me, “HA HA” I tell you. Read the rest of this entry »

My 18-month-old daughter has fallen in love with a wooden flower. Last night, as I was reading Amelia a bedtime story, she sat happily in my lap, cradling her beloved orange tulip as she listened to the tale.

The first thing Amelia does when she wakes up in the morning is hunt for her flower. When Flower is unearthed from the rubble under which it is frequently buried, Amelia brings Flower to me for a quick sniff. Whilst extremely proud that my daughter understands that flowers smell pretty, sniffing a wooden flower again and again , other than utterly bizarre, becomes a tad… tedious. Read the rest of this entry »

When a young woman reaches a certain age, she begins to feel the pressure as her biological clock ticks louder and faster. Often, though, this pressure is brought on by well-meaning outsiders asking, “When are you going to get a boyfriend?”

Then, “When are you going to get married?”

Followed by, “When are you going to have a baby?”

And, “When are you going to have another baby?”

There is barely enough time to catch your breath between questions. Angelique was not even a day old when the nurses started making comments like, “See you in a year’s time for the next one.” I wish I could have made some snarky retort but, alas, I was still recovering from the anaesthetic and trying to process the fact that my baby was finally in my arms. (Next time, I will think of a few comments before the birth so I can be prepared.) Read the rest of this entry »

Motherhood is not for sissies.

Forget about labour and the actual birth, it’s what comes afterwards that really tests your strength. Poopy nappies, snotty noses, projectile vomit … being a parent is not for the faint-hearted, that’s for sure.

I have learned, in a mere eight months of being a mom, that it is a good idea to keep a burp cloth in every room of the house, as well as in each car, an extra one in the nappy bag, and one or two at the grandparents’ houses. One of the side-effects of teething is extra up-chucking, and regurgitated chicken, peas and milk are one of the many things I look forward to each day. Read the rest of this entry »

My 16-month-old daughter loves digging in the dustbin. I am raising a pleb.

The smelling pit of putridness that wallows in my kitchen, basking in the deceptive glamour of stainless steel, is like honey to a bee for Amelia-the-peasant. Manky sponges and rotting straws are her most valued discoveries. She is also partial to the occasional yoghurt carton. Read the rest of this entry »

There once was a girl with big blue eyes who ate a sandwich for lunch every day.

Although the little girl loved her sandwich, she didn’t really understand its point; she would pick it apart bit by little bit, no matter what the filling.

You see, this little girl was of the opinion that the package was more promising than the delivery. In other words, eating the ‘sandwich’ in its parts is much yummier than eating it as a whole – duh! Read the rest of this entry »

Amelia’s daddy gets her dressed every morning. And he is really quite style savvy. Of late he has decided that it’s time for our little lovely to start choosing her own clothes. So he will lay out four of each item and allow her to choose a skirt, tee and tights (or whatever the outfit of the day is). I often giggle as I listen to my man encouraging our 16-month-old to make her choice, and she does so with great enthusiasm.

Amelia certainly knows exactly what she likes to wear. Today it so happens to be a pink shirt with a kitty print, a skirt with an orange frill and brown tights with polka dots. It’s not hard to predict her choices. Read the rest of this entry »

Amelia loves food. Just like her mother. So when I eat something, my daughter, at 16-months-old, assumes that she is entitled to whatever deletable delight is about to make its way into my mouth. Which is both hilarious and annoying.

Explaining that it is not time for Amelia to eat doesn’t go down well at the mo (and my mom taught me that it’s rude to eat in front of others without offering anyway) – so, sometimes I indulge her and sometimes not. Amelia knows that she can share my breakfast with me and if I have a snack that she can’t have (my little lovely is prohibited from anything sugary until she is 10… just kidding… or maybe not) then I give her something that she can have – fruit usually.

If I have nothing to give her then I have to hide the deliciousness until my little Gizzardgulper is in bed and her hyper-alert toddler radar has no chance of zoning in on my treat. Read the rest of this entry »