'Tis the season to be jolly and to start an advent calender

Unless you are living in some sort of dark cave, I am pretty sure you would all be well aware that the festive season is well and truly upon us. 

Ho ho ho.

Lots of people are talking about the special little things they do in their house to celebrate the festive season. I am loving watching all the shenanigans of the christmas elves on Facebook and Instagram. 

We don't have an elf but we do have Santa in a truck. He's an advent truck. 

He is a real treat and something Noah looks forward to each year. Although this year he arrived a few days late... 

Whoops.

We introduced this little guy into our house a few years ago. I was working almost full time hours and feeling particularly guilty about the working mum status. I was really worried that Noah, aged 2 would miss out on the Christmas build up (childcare doesn't celebrate the festive spirit). So with all that maternal guilt and a few spare hours, I created what I think is a beautiful way to celebrate the festive season.

Each day has a special message and a special Christmas task to be completed. Some tasks are easy. Others I wish I had never thought of (really who wants to make a gingerbread house every year?) And a few tasks, which remind us exactly what Christmas is about... 

I thought it would be nice to share with you our advent tasks for 2013... The gingerbread got the boot. 

1. Decorate Christmas tree and make a Christmas pudding 

2. Visit the city and say hello to Santa 

3. Buy a special Christmas ornament

4. Write Santa a special letter 

5. Make Christmas cookies for your neighbours and deliver 

6. Take Barkley for an evening walk

7. Sing a Christmas song to Jude

8. Read a Christmas story

9. Write a special Christmas story and share with mum, dad and Jude 

10. Paint Santa

11. Be kind and say thank you to all 

12. Call Nanna and Pop and sing a Christmas jingle

13. Borrow some Christmas books from the library and read together

14. Make daddy breakfast in bed

15. Attend church service 

16. Santa's magical kingdom, yeah! 

17. Clean up your room and toys

18. Make your kinder friends a special Christmas gift and card

19. Draw a picture of our family enjoying Christmas 

20. Kmart wishing tree

21. Help mummy write and post Christmas cards

22. Go and see the Christmas light display in the city 

23. Help mummy wrap Christmas presents for your family and friends 

24. Go to a Christmas concert and sing your little heart out

25. CHRISTMAS DAY: enjoy 

Ill admit it here that sometimes we have to do a quick swap of the tasks if the days events call for it. But what I like about our little tasks is that it reminds us that Christmas is more than just ripping open some presents on the 25th of December.

Christmas is about sharing, being kind, giving and looking after those who are less advantaged than us. 

All very important things for a little boy with the world at his feet to learn.

So, tell me what do you and your family do to celebrate Christmas? 

Love Jo xxx

The dark side of parenting: sleep deprivation

Most people that know me know that I love my sleep. love. my. sleep. I also don't like to be woken mid-sleep and well when you have a toddler and a 7 month old baby, its fair to say they don't give a hoot about YOUR sleep preferences. 

They have their own little sleep mission and just quietly its utter rubbish.

I think it's fair to say that the whole sleep thing has all got a bit out of hand in our house. And as a consequence, we are ALL suffering from a little sleep deprivation. I know sleep deprivation is inevitable with 2 babes in the house but sleep is necessary and this whole sleep on the pillow that your head first lands on protocol that we have created in our house is the absolute pits.

Most nights, I actually have no idea who is where or what bed one has landed in. 

Its like musical beds and it is not fun. 

For example, we have had: Noah in our bed. Jude in our bed. Brad in Noah's bed. Jude in Noah's bed. Brad on the floor. Noah in Jude's cot (!), Noah under his bed ("Jo, have you seen Noah?"), Jo in Noah's bed. Jo on couch. Brad on couch. Noah at our feet. Both kids in our bed.... Parents on the floor in kids room.

Can you hear the music playing... on and on but last night, I screamed:

"Stop!"

My poor family and neighbours heard the almighty roar of serious sleep deprivation. I declared right then and there that tomorrow I declare war on sleep. 

Yup. War. 

We all need it and I will fight for it. Damn it.

So, today. I started operation sleep in your own bed. I know it's going to be tough. I am no fool. I have fought this battle before, back in 2009. I know I would rather pull out my toenails but this needs to be done. We all need sleep! And I will make sleep a priority. 

So here's my pledge. For the month of November, these babies of mine will be sleeping in their own bed. And my husband will be by myside in our bed. Our beautiful bed. Maybe not 100% of the time, lets make it 80% of sleep time. 

Don't want to set myself up for an earlier failure. I can do this. We can do this.

Wish me luck. 

Anyone else got the same thing happening in their house? Want to join me in this fight for better sleep?

Love Jo xxx

Meet our Beagle, Barkly.

We have a beagle named Barkly. 

We adopted him in between child 1 and child 2 when he was 4 months old from a couple who adored him but "couldn't quite keep up with him." Points for honesty. Why on earth I thought we could keep up with him still confuses me to this very day.

The discussion of getting a dog took place over many days and nights. It went on for months and months. Husband was for. I was against. And toddler was dog crazy. So, I gave in and we got a dog. On the proviso that we adopted a dog. A dog who needed us! 

It was close to a year ago when this all happened. His photo appeared on gumtree with the caption "looking for a loving family". I had found our dog. We opened our hearts and closed our ears to those with doggy wisdom:

"Beagles are terrors... Too smart for their own good... Stubborn... Diggers... Howlers... Chewers... Pack animals." 

"Don't get a beagle." 

"Do. Not. Get. A. Beagle."

"Ah, whatever." I said as I shrugged my shoulders. It's a dog. A dog has nothing on raising a newborn. I can do that. I can raise a dog. How naive I was.

So, I saw the add and literally less than 2 hours later, we had our beagle in the car. Licking my face. Ripping at the door. Slobbering on the window. Howling in the wind. Chewing at the seatbelt. Grabbing Noah's hands. Jumping on my legs. Destroying his first pair of tights. 

Ah. Love.

There are many stories that I can share with you about our beagle, Barkly. Like the time I felt the squish of his freshly laid midnight hallway poo squelch between my toes.

Squish. 

Or the time he ate the tv antenna cable. That was fun. No tv for a week. Smile.

Or the time he wrapped himself around a pole and then played dead. Or maybe the time I thought he was actually dead. Or the time I wanted him dead {anonymous noise complaint, anyone?}

And then there is his chewing. Not that I am keeping count or anything but he has destroyed with his chewing so many things that I actually wished I'd kept a visual diary of his chewed accomplishments, including;

-his own five star kennel with sliding Perspex window.

-two doggy heshian {and probably organic} dog floor cushions 

-5 gardening pots

-a broom and 2 buckets

-the trash, all sorts of trash

-my mums water fountain

-all things bike; a bike carrier, a bike seat, a bike bell, a bike pump and a pair of bike shoes. He likes bikes.

-someone elses workboots

-an endless supply of my knickers {both dirty and clean}

-his own ID collar {how? i do not know}

-and a maternity top. Being pregnant that chew made me cry. 

Oh, and I nearly forgot, the trampoline pads on Christmas morning. Merry Christmas Noah. 

Oh shit. This list is crazy. 

He has chewed alot. And so that's our dog, Barkly. He likes taking you for a walk, munching on soggy soiled nappies, digging in the garden, splashing at the beach, sniffing other dogs bums, howling by night, sleeping by day, playing dead and chewing everything but his very own posh dog toys. 

Just as everyone promised. 

Who on earth would want a beagle?

Us, that's who! Because besides all his flaws, he is pretty perfect in our eyes. A loyal canine mate who keeps us on our toes and grinning from ear to ear. 

Love Jo xxx

Do you have a dog? What has your dog chewed? Any tips for us to stop the chew?

Could we, should we move to the countryside?

I love the country. I love getting back to nature, breathing in the country fresh air, enjoying the quiet and watching our boy be a boy, a real boy. 

So, when our dearest friends invited us to their parents farm, we didn't need much convincing. We were there! Their farm grows Canola. Canola? It's all the yellow, I was told. Eep, city chick! And right now, Canola puts on a very pretty show. 

I was in love. 

And it didn't take long for me to start pondering; should we, could we move to the country?

There are so many things that attract me to moving to the country. The people, the wide open space and green grass, the idea of growing an organic veggie patch, the community spirit, the small schools, the farmers markets, the chance for the boys to run in the paddocks and the way your heart rate slows.

But is this what living in the country is?

Hay Day would have you believe it is. 

Swipe. Feed the chickens.

Flick. Harvest the crops.

Slide. Paint the house.

Swipe. Sell your goods at the market.

Tap. Empty the silo. 

A fully thriving farm. But, as fun as Hey Day is, of course, it is not reality. But I am left wondering what is it like to live in the countryside? What is this rural lifestyle? My country snapshots leave me longing for more but could we really do it? 

I spent the entire car trip back to the city quizzing myself: Could I commute to the city for work? What school could the kids go to? What is the nearest hospital? The closest shops? And would the locals like us and would we like them? 

Holy shit, my head is a busy place. 

I was told, "there's nothing glamorous about living in the country." And I believe this to be true. But city living isn't always glamorous either. So, I ask you all. All you country folk, both present and past, who have lived, are living or are planning to live in the country, what is this country life? 

Tell me. 

Tell me all about fixing the fences, milking the cows, the horrid red dust and long drives. And then tell me about all the things you love too because for now, I'll be living this country dream through you. 

Unless, of course there is a sudden and urgent call for a genetic counsellor, a teacher and there 2 beautiful boys to come to the country.

*waiting, waiting, waiting.

Love Jo xxx

Boobs at the beach.

Ah, Happy Monday everyone! 

How was your weekend? 

Ours was divine, minus the oh say, 16 hours of sleep we missed out on. 

Thanks Jude! Amen for coffee. 

Noah had his karate grading early Sunday morning. And he did very well despite my early morning fears that he would fall asleep mid machine gun kick. He impressed us and the judges too. He won most outstanding performance. Twice. 

Eep, mummy gloat.

To celebrate, we all went to the beach. And when I say beach, I'm talking about some gritty sand and dirty water by the bay. There are no waves. The sand does not squeek. The shells are all shattered. And in the distance you can see a giant cargo ship dumping all sorts of toxins in the water. 

Welcome to Melbourne. We have it all, except a beach. We do have latte sipping on the sand though. That's a Melbourne thing right? A coffee cart at the beach? Only Melbourne, right? 

Once upon a time, the beach was a place to relax. Read a book, catch a tan and eat hot chips whilst partaking in some people spotting. 

And then we had kids. And that all became a distant memory. Distant. Distant. Memory. 

Although, I did take my book. The five people you meet in heaven. Optimism right there. Who was I kidding?!? 

There was no reading. Instead, Ill tell you what did happen. 

We had a spot of lunch on the beach. Some overly packaged bakery delights plus a can of coca cola {pure class here boys and girls}. Whilst sipping from that cool cola, Jude face planted the sand. He cried and demanded boob. Previous experience had taught me breastfeeding on the beach is no fun. 

The sand, the boob exposure, the fiddly hats, the slippery sun screen, the twisted bather top and the bloody sun. Not my idea of fun. So, we struggled through it together and once the boob was tucked away again, Noah decided he wanted to go for a splash. So off the boys went into the water, whilst I took some happy snaps. 

After 5 minutes of splashing, Noah got ridiculoudly wet and decided he was too cold. Swimming was over and Jude cried. The boob came out again and I fed him some more. And then a huge gust of wind whipped along the shore. And you all know how much I hate wind. And with the wind went our overly packaged bakery scraps. 

Tumbling across the sand and into the sea. I could see people shaking their heads, my head was shaking too but I had my boob out. What was I to do? Brad was nowhere in sight. 

I had no choice but to run after the littered goods. I had brain images of dolphins choking on MY bakery pie and turtles tangled in MY cheesecake glad wrap and seals sipping on MY cola. And it was all going to be MY fault. Me, the litter bug. 

It was too much. 

I whipped the baby off the boob and made my dash. By this time, the litter was knee deep so I plunged into the seawater, denim jeans and all. I dived forward and retrieved the litter and made my way back up the beach. The beach spectators started to cheer. A lady congratulated me:

"Well done love."

Beach hero, is me. I sat back down feeling proud of MY efforts. How many sea animals had I just saved? And then I looked down. My boob was half hanging out of my top. And my baby tummy was out for all to see. What a sight it must have been. Me with my boob and tummy chasing MY litter...! 

Brad returned back from the toilets with Noah and I said its time to go. 

And that was our beach visit. 

Boob and all. 

Love Jo xxx

Do you love the beach? What tips do you have for surviving the beach with little ones? 

Where everybody knows your name.

You know the Cheers theme song... 

"Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name.
And they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see your troubles are all the same.
You wanna be where everybody knows your name."

Go on... Keep singing. Ill wait for you to finish the piano keys too.

What a great song and can I just say how right Gary Portnoy was when he penned those now-famous lyrics.

He is singing about belonging and belongingness has long been know to motivate human behaviour. It is what motivates us to volunteer at our local kindergarten, to offer to keep score at the local football game and it keeps us frequenting the local shops.

It makes us feel as though we are part of something bigger and more important than ourselves.

For us, we belong to a community in Ascot Vale, Melbourne. There are a strip of shops, which we visit often,  almost daily. There is an op shop, a butcher, a florist, a local physio, a deli, the library and some funky little coffee shops. 

A little community in an otherwise big city, where people genuinely care for one another. 

There are some eccentrics in our community. For example, there is Tom, as in peeping Tom. He is a recovering alcoholic who you'll spot reading the back page of the Harris Scarf Catalogue {the undies section}. He once told me that he used to like hiding behind the trees and perving on the girls at the beach in his younger days.

*step away from Tom*

And there's some darn right amazing people like Mary who is a devoted Bombers supporter. The recent drugs saga nearly sent her to death bed. Bless Mary. And then there's the 3 Italian stooges who sit and drink coffee all day. They always wave hello. And George who nearly died from a king hit back in the day. His got the scars to proove it and he will happy show you. Sweet Judy is one of our favourites. She has had too much sadness for any one person. Her mum passed away on the day she was told of her 5th cancer diagnosis. Yes, 5th. AndJasmine. Jasmine has a disability. But she doesn't let that her hold her back and let me not forget, Chris and Jenny. Jenny has dementia. She has lost the ability to speak but she loves babies and Chris loves her. They are love. And, Louise. Louise is undergoing her 4th IVF treatment. She admits to feeling a little emotional. And Sally, well Sally just wants to sleep. Sadly, her new little newborn baby, Harry does not. 

Poor Sally.

Oh, and then there's me. I am Noah's Mum. I just had another boy, but noone can quite remember his name. Jeremy? Julian? 

Juuuudddde, I say.

And see this is our community. There are others of course, but these people are my favourite. Their stories are amazing and at times inspirational. I listen to them as I know they listen to me. I often think we could write a book with all their stories. 

A story about our local community, where everyone knows your name, well, kind of. 

Love Noah's Mum. xxx

Where do you belong? In a sporting club? In a pirates club or at the local gym?

Noah at the deli where everyone shares their story and knows your name.

My big boy.

It's undeniable that little boys grow into big boys. And in this past week I have seen it happening right before my eyes. This makes me both happy and sad. I want to shout "stop growing" but then there is so much excitement ahead. I cant wait to see what all this growth lead to.

Who and what will our little boy become? 

Like many parents, I hope for so many things. I want him to know love, to travel the world, and to be happy and successful. To care for others and to listen to those who need to be heard. And to know how to make people smile. But for now he is 3, nearly 4! {I cant believe he is nearly 4!} and he is becoming my big boy.

I have witnessed many signs of big boy transition over the past week. They have made me both smile and frown. My top 5 big boy observations are:

1. He is developing a big boy wit. When I told him "to get over it" {"it" being a strong desire for a third yoghurt for the day}, he replied, without a moment of pause, "no, mum, I won't. I am in it." In it. I have never laughed so hard. Wit. 

2. He has hands. No longer are they chubby baby hands with tiny dimples and soft fingernails. Nope. They are hands, real hands, strong hands with dirty finger nails. Nail clippers required hands.

3. He likes toy guns and despite my every insistence that he does not speak, touch or pretend to play with a gun, it is now out of my control. Everything can become a gun with a big boys imagination: sticks, controllers and sandwiches. Yup. Sandwiches. A couple of bites here and a twist there and it's a fully loaded peanut butter pistol. I give up. But, still I insist no purchased guns.

4. He cares for others. He took it upon himself to encourage a fellow karate classmate to join in on the summersault lessons. As he kneeled down and grabbed his hand, he told the boy "just try it once, I bet you'll like it and your mum will be real proud. She'll be real impressed." Big. Boy. Caring.

5. And, he is developing a 'tude. An attitude where "thats boring" is often mumbled. This is not so amazing. It has got to be one of the worst things you can say to your mum as a child because as a mum, a moment of boredom would be heaven. Sorry Mum for all the times I may have whined about being bored in the past. So. Not. Cool. Attitude.

And that's how I know my little boy is becoming a big boy. A boy of almost 4, who wants a superhero/knight/princess/ninja/gun party. What on earth do I do with the cake for that one?

How's your week going? Is your baby growing right before your eyes? 

Happy Fathers Day

Happy Fathers Day to all the delicious, superhero daddies out there! We have treated our superhero dad to a wonderful day. How about you?

First, we started with some fish viewing at the Melbourne Aquarium. So frikkn' cool plus dads got in for free today! 

And then we went for a lane way lunch at one of our favourite little cafes off Flinders Lane. Although its always a bit of a squeeze, we love taking the boys here. You sit on crates and drink cafe sua da {vietnamese drip coffee}. It's a special spot for us from our younger, pre-child days. Its always buzzing and you are guaranteed to spot something to make you smile.

And, now Noah loves it too. Minus, the mini tantrum I captured here on camera. Pretty tiles though, hey!?!

A stroll through the city completed our day and now we are at home. Noah is treating Dad to a game of Xbox. I can hear them talking. Noah asking questions. Bradley patiently answering. There chatter continues on as if they have been ol' mates for 50 years or more. It is divine. I can't wait for Jude to be able to join in on the chatter soon.

The boys and I are so lucky to have this man in our lives. He is a good man. An honest man. And he is not afraid of changing a dirty nappy. I knew he was the one the day we met and everyday after that has just further cemented those feelings. 

You are our rock and we love you. 

Happy Fathers Day.

Love Jo xxx

How's your Father's Day been? 

Baby in Vietnam: My {8} travel tips.

Today, I stopped and gazed at the travel agents window a little too long. It was a scenic picture of Ha Long Bay in Vietnam that I was admiring. Flights were cheap, but travel periods restricted. Of course. 

Come on. Jetstar. Just once put a dollar dazzling deal in the school holiday period. 

I dare you.

Do it for the teachers {and more importantly their wives, me!}.

And so back to my window gazing. Vietnam. What a bloody amazing country. If you haven't been, go now. Go now before the tourists destroy its soul and take happy snaps whilst doing it. You know where I am talking about.

We took Noah to Vietnam when he was one. People thought we were crazy and were convinced he might die from dengue fever or cholera.

He didn't. 

In fact he faired the best out of all of us on the runny poos count.

And he like us fell in love with the country.

But, like all things in life there were some lessons learnt and for this reason I am sharing with you my top 8 tips for travelling Vietnam with a baby in tow. 

1. Vietnamese people like babies. They like to touch, pat, kiss, play and hug them. This is something that we learnt to embrace very quickly. As a result, we had many child-free dinners. Noah would be whisked away to the kitchen by the waiter to meet his mother. We would eat. We would drink beer. And then the waiter would return with the happy baby.

2. You can buy nappies (& all other baby related products) from major supermarkets in the major cities. However, I would recommend you take your own sealed formula. Try your best to not let ze formula spill in your bag. It has an uncanny similarity to a certain 'white' illegal substance. And thats not a happy ending in any Asian country.

3. Nothing can or will prepare you for the traffic in Vietnam. It really is quite hectic and operates on the "biggest object has right of way". Therefore, as a pedestrian you have the least right of way, unless you are the size of the local bus. The best way to cross the road is slowly and persistently. The traffic will see you and anticipate your movements... so... keep moving. Running is definitely a no-no, although you may feel that is the only way to do it.

4. Tap water is best avoided. You can buy cheap bottled water from all over Vietnam. Be sure that the seal has not been tampered with and avoid ice. And I am talking about the freezer cold type ice here.

5. Food is pretty easy in Vietnam. Noah loves rice. He will eat it day and night, which was a bonus for us. We also used to fill up his lunchbox in the morning with supplies from the breakfast buffet. The staff used to turn a polite blind eye while they played with the cute baby. See point 1. Oh, and we did take a tube of vegemite too. 

6. Shopping malls exist in both of the the major cities, Hanoi and Hi Chi Minh City. And in these malls you will usually find an indoor playground/amusement park or water puppet theatre. Just look for the flashing lights and screaming kids. It gave the boy a good chance to stretch his legs, meet the locals and make some noise. Just watch out for the crawling baby not wearing a nappy. 

7.  Cots were often available in all the major hotels. Call ahead and ensure its available for your booking. Noone likes a grumpy and tired baby. You may need to bring your own sleeping sack or sheet set. Sleep is serious stuff so nothing funny to add here.

8. And finally, the overnight trains were a great option for us. They were cheap, clean and safe. And for a few extra dollars, you can usually swindle a whole cabin to yourself. The trains rocking motion had our little explorer asleep in no time. Just be sure you don't leave any valuables behind because you will not get them back. Our cabin was promptly cleaned by cabin staff. 

Do you have any tips to share on travelling with a baby to a foreign country?


This is a fabulous family friendly website full of travel trips: www.allabroadbaby.com

What's in a kiss?

Today, our little bundle of joy is 5 months old. 5 months. Thats 1200 nappies, 900 breastfeeds, 300 outfit changes, 600 vomits and 15,000 kisses. 

Yup. 15,000 kisses.

Don't believe it? Dont worry, I didn't either. But here is the breakdown, kiss by kiss. There are kisses from big brother Noah with the very first kiss captured here:

And there are kisses from Dad and nanna, as well as odd stranger kisses and of course, mama kisses. Ill admit that I am by far the worst offender. See here...

And so with all these people planting kisses thats about 100 kisses a day by 150 days, which is 15,000 kisses.

That's insane.

But that's what these tiny little people do. You see their perfect toes and you kiss each and every one of them. You see their round tummy. And, you kiss it five times, maybe six. You spot a cheek. You kiss both sides twice over.

And then there's their tiny squishy lips. Kiss, kiss, kiss. 

 I remember when I was pregnant with Jude worrying that I couldn't possibly have enough kisses for two babies. It was a horrible parent thought that scared me. I would ask other mums, "how do you do it?" "How do you spread the love?" "And make it last with all those kisses?"

But, it was all unnecessary worry as quite often worry is because once our little Jude appeared on March 25th. My lips exploded and he was covered in a smattering of kisses. And that's why today little baby Jude, aged 5 months has a grand tally of give or take, 15,000 kisses. 

Love Jo xxx {you get kisses too}.

Happy 5 months beautiful Jude 🎈

I wonder how many kisses Noah has had? How many kisses do you give a day? Is it possible to kiss your baby too much?