A secret confession

I have a secret…

I feel like I really need to get it off my chest, but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone… okay?

Cool. Okay then.

On Thursday Night, my hubby cooked dinner, as he usually does.

The dish he had planned was Pan Fried Chicken Breast, Pumpkin-Potato Mash, Baby Peas and Blackened Mushrooms and Onion.

Not long after he started cooking, he realised we had no butter for the mash potatoes, so he asked me to go down to the local Seven Eleven and pick up a stick of butter.

(Also I might add that the term Seven Eleven is waaaay over generalised, because the corner store in our suburb closes at 9pm.  So does our Bottle-O.  I suppose it might be 11pm somewhere in the world at that moment… Maybe…  Don’t take my word on that because I haven’t checked.)

Anyhow, I jumped in the car and went down to the shop. It is literally a 7 minute walk but I drove because it was dark and cold and I am a sook.

When I got to the shop, I found they only had Dairy Farmers Butter.

When I am at the grocery store, I usually buy the one that comes in the red packet and has a picture of a star on it because that’s the one that my husband prefers to cook with (do you like how technical I am about brands and stuff?).

I stood there, just looking at the fridge for a couple of minutes, willing the red packet to appear before my eyes.

It didn’t appear, so I had to get the Dairy Farmers Butter.

I actually don’t mind supporting Dairy Farmers.  I actively try to buy the Dairy Farmers brand of milk over other brands whenever possible.  I don’t know how their butter compares to the butter in the red packet.  It could be better. It could be worse.  I am not technical in the subtle palates of butter.  The only thing I really know about butter is that the salt reduced one tastes crap. Stay away from that. (You only make that mistake ONCE peeps!).

The Dairy Farmers Butter was $4.50.  For 250 grams. The one in the red packet, is usually about $3.00 for 250 grams.

But I understand. It is a corner store.  I am paying for the convenience of them being right there.  Coles and Woolies are actually still open. If I wanted to, I could drive to Coles or Woolies and get the damn butter there.  But I don’t. Because:

(a) I am lazy and don’t want to drive for an extra 5 minutes and line up at the checkout just for a stick of butter.

(b) I am already at the corner store.

(c) Hubby has already started cooking the dinner so kind of needs me to get home with the butter right now

I get the Dairy Farmers Butter.

But it is not the one in the red packet and its is more than I would like to pay so I am feeling a bit uncomfortable.  I wouldn’t say that I am stressed.  I am feeling like I need comfort.

It just so happens that to get from the dairy fridge to the counter I have to walk through an aisle of lollies and chocolates.

I hesitate, then hover, in this aisle.

So much chocolatey goodness to choose from.

After looking at the range of decadent delights (and not being able to justify the price for a whole block of chocolate) I decide to choose a Chomp Bar.  My plan is to eat it on the way home in the car.

I don’t think I have had a Chomp Bar since I was about 10 years old.  They were allowed to sell chocolates at the school tuckshop in those days and a Chomp Bar used to cost 30 cents.  I guess inflation has been running rampant over the last 26 years. Chomps are now $1.20 each from the corner store.

I get back to the car and note that the Bottle-O is open and we have no alcohol (except for Cointreau) at home.  I am thinking that the weather is cold and if the Bottle-O has Marsala it might be nice to have a bottle of it at home for the occasional warm smooth feeling that it leaves me with.

So I put the butter and the Chomp in the Car and go into the Bottle O.  They don’t have any Marsala.  So I decide to get a bottle of Merlot on special for $6.99 instead.

I drive home and pull up in the driveway and realise I forgot to eat the bloody Chomp!

I didn’t get a bag at the Bottle-O or at the Corner Store and I didnt take my whole handbag just my purse, so I have nothing to hide the chocolate in so that the kids don’t see it.

So I shove the chocolate down my shirt and walk inside with the butter and the wine.

I open the wine so it can ‘breathe’ and then retreat to my bedroom where I wolf the Chomp down with guilty pleasure.

I hid the wrapper in my bedside table drawer (and it is still there… oops).

Then dinner was ready, so I poured the wine and helped my husband dish it up.


And no one knows my guilty little secret.


What happened to the tooth fairy?

I won’t be winning the mother of the year award any time soon. I wouldn’t even make it to runner-up.   I have made quite a boo-boo and I don’t quite know what to do about it.

Almost a month ago Mr S got his first wobbly baby tooth. I was so excited about it.  My boy is growing up!  I had plans to keep the tooth fairy magic alive, and put the tooth in a glass of water beside his bed and as you do, tip out the tooth and water and swap it for money.  My plan was 4 fifty cent pieces as well as sprinkling a bit of glitter in and around the glass.

It stayed wobbly for a quite a while and eventually he pulled it out one afternoon at after-school care, after being frustrated at not being able to eat a snack properly.

He gave it to Miss O for safekeeping until I picked them up. Miss O dutifully looked after it and wrapped it up in a little paper envelope, and when we got home, she gave it to me so that we could put it out so the tooth fairy could come.

I put it on my bedside table and promptly forgot about it.

The next morning, Miss O said – “Oh Mum what about the tooth fairy?”

Realising I forgot to put out the tooth, I said, “Oh, she only comes if you put the tooth under your pillow or in a Jar next to your bed.  We will need to put it out tonight”.  So that was that.  The story was acceptable to all and we continued on with our day.

So this morning before we left for school, Mr S gave me one of his big grins.

And then I saw it.

The new tooth beginning to grow through in the spot where the baby tooth had been.

And then I remembered.

I forgot to put his tooth out for the tooth fairy.

It has been at least two or three weeks and it is still wrapped up on my bedside table.

How the heck do I fix this now?

Any Ideas?

Bedtime Bliss

Recently, I integrated something a little new into our bedtime routine.

Confession: The ‘something a little new’ part is actually a ‘creating a new routine’, full stop.

We used to have an extraordinary amount of excuses, bickering and crying at bedtime.

It would end with me completely losing it – and yelling – and when I say yelling, I really mean yelling! I sounded more like a fishwife or an army drill instructor than a loving Mum.

Last year, in order to combat this, I set a nightly Alarm on my iPhone, that goes off when it is bedtime.  The kids understood that once this alarm went off, there were no excuses.  It was time for bed.

This worked for a while.  It was a bit exciting! The kids would race to be the one who was first to find and swipe my iPhone to turn off the alarm, and they would all then dutifully trundle off to bed.

But ever so slowly, the bedtime boundaries once again began to get a bit blurry.

The excuses, arguments and crying about bedtime began to start again.

There was the usual ‘I need to go to the toilet’, ‘I need a drink’, ‘I’m scared’ excuses, as well as many other, more ridiculous reasons for not going to bed.

So on the odd occasion, I let one, or more, of the kids fall asleep on the couch in front of Disney Channnel or Disney Junior, just because after my day at work, and all the rest that happens after I get home, I am just too tired to argue about bedtime and it can be easier to carry them to their beds once they have nodded off.

Suddenly, before I knew it,  around about 4 out of the 7 nights in a week one or more the kids were falling asleep in front of the TV.  Sometimes I would even fall asleep on my own bed before they did!

Having a good look at my life and the lack of quality time that I spend with my kids, I came to the conclusion that lazily allowing this to become the norm instead of something that happens on the odd occasion really isn’t going to earn me the mother of the year award any time soon.

So I decided I needed to make a major change in the way bedtime is run in our household.

My kids need to have rules and boundaries about bedtime, they need to feel loved, and they need to have some relaxing one-on-one time with Mum.

So now, each kid gets a special ‘one on one’ story, talk and cuddle time.

In talk and cuddle time, I ask the kids to tell me what was the ‘worst thing’ about the day.

Then I ask them to tell me what what was the ‘best thing’ about the day.

It is amazing just how much the kids tell you when you ask these two questions.

The answers that they give you regarding the ‘worst thing‘ about their day can give you a deeper insight into their feelings and fears that they may not otherwise have shared. For Miss O (who has recently turned 10) it is a great opportunity to talk a bit more about problems that she is having, and on more than one occasion she has cried and poured her little heart out.

Getting them to tell you the ‘best thing‘ about their day helps them to get into the habit of being thankful for the good things they have in life, whether big or small.  It also helps to end the night on a light and positive note, so that they are thinking about pleasant things before they go to sleep.

How do I know I will try my best to stick to my new routine?  That it won’t fall by the wayside?

Because on the very first night, Mr S, gave me a wonderful answer about his ‘best thing‘ of the day.

What was his answer?

“When you loved me”.

That was all.

The best part of his day was when I made him feel special and loved.

And you know what?

That was the best part of my day too.

This is what I am thankful for today.

Linking Up with Kate Says Stuff for Thankful Thursday. Pop over to Kate’s page to see why others are thankful today.

The Lice Wars

You’ve started scratching your head already haven’t you?

They’re back.



Head Lice.

Whatever you want to call them.

Those nasty little blighters.

Intent on destroying the night of leisure that I had planned.

Nope. No leisure for me tonight.

Thank God I just cracked open that bottle of white.

Tonight, I am afraid, will be spent washing my daughters hair with the stinky stuff.

The stuff that kills those inconsiderate little buggers.

Tonight will be spent running the fine tooth comb through my daughter’s thick head of hair.

Tonight will be spent washing the sheets, the towels and the pillowcases.

Tonight will be spent checking my boys hair, washing their hair with the stinky stuff, and running the fine tooth comb through their hair too.

Not exactly the kind of friday night that I had planned.

I have had enough.

I am declaring war on these nunicks.

Right here, right now.

Its on.

I also thought I might post something funny about lice, so I could link up with Tropical Mum for Friday Funny.  And just so I don’t lose my mind.

So here is Beavis and Butthead for your amusement.  If only I could go to these extremes.

But I am not sure my kids would appreciate being electrocuted.