Kate's in Melbourne

My toddler is terrified of water. Help!

2012-02-06T20:42:00.000+11:00

So about three months ago S decided she no longer liked water.

As in, she won't go near the awesome blow up pool we bought, she won't go in the tiny but awesome turtle shaped pool we got just for her, she won't touch the water at the beach and worst of all, she won't sit down in the bath - instead she screams the house down while we scrub her standing up.

What. The. Hell.

I have no idea what triggered this, she used to spend so long in the bath, playing with her toys, and take weekly swimming lessons. Then one day, the Water Hater within her emerged.

I've been putting it down to "Oh it's just a phase!", but the phase has gone on for much longer than her other phases.

I thought we could just solider through and she would get over it. That method isn't working.

I don't mind if she's not keen on swimming straight away (although that would be nice!), I just want her to have a bath or shower in the evening without screaming bloody murder, leading our neighbours to believe we are torturing her, prompting them to contact child services.

We've tried showering with her, she hates it.

I'm open to suggestions. Any suggestions. Seriously, I'm getting desperate.

SOS.

Help.

Please!

BARP BARP BARP THIS IS A PARENTING EMERGENCY BARP BARP BARP.

Thanking you in anticipation.

By order of the Water Hater.
IMAGE.

It's been three years since I left Perth.

2012-02-03T06:30:00.000+11:00

This week it's been three years since I packed my bags and left sunny Perth where I spent most of my youth. I made a spur of the moment decision to move here with a couch to sleep on, a suitcase full of appropriate-for-Perth-but-not-colder-Melbourne style clothes, $2000 in my account, an almost maxed out credit card and no job.

I gave my parents two weeks notice, my job one and everyone else just a couple of days. I did have a return flight booked a week later but that week later I was sitting by myself at my twin friends' Lauren and Brooke's parents house in Doncaster thinking "right now someone is calling out my name over the loud speaker at the airport, and I'm not there!".

I am so glad I didn't go home. Staying here was the best choice I ever made. Who knew that three years later I'd be where I am and with who I am. Certainly not me!

Speaking of threes.

This week my amazing and hilarious 21 month old daughter moved into the two year old toddler room at childcare AND she started going three days rather than two because I've picked up another day at work.

When I was in year three we had class pet chickens. Chicks actually, we watched them hatch in a big incubator and then some of us got to take them home, none of them survived- one was attacked by a kookaburra. Shattering. Anyway. S's toddler group has a pet dragon called Puff. A dragon with a BEARD no less. I am so jealous, maybe Peter Parker will let us get one. It can be friends with our new fish, but that's a post for another day.

This is not Puff but this IS what he looks like.
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Bad things come in threes

2012-02-02T08:00:00.000+11:00

1. My iPhone has died. DIIIEEEDDD!! The screen is frozen. Have tried everything. Still dead this morning.

2. I have lost my new sunnies. I have been looking for them for a week now to no avail.

3. Last night I had to walk instead of run on my weekly run with Kate and Pip because I felt sick and then on the way home I needed fuel so I stopped at a petrol station and for the life of me could NOT figure out how to open the little fuel flap. You know, the one you need to open to put the fuel IN your car. COMPLETE brain fart. WHAT THE HELL.

Alright life. That's three things. Gimme something good.

From now on life will be all rainbows and unicorns. Right?
IMAGE.

UPDATE: My iPhone came back to life! Hooray!

The Most Delicious Pancakes Ever Ever Ever.

2012-01-30T14:08:00.000+11:00

OK so I'm just going to state up front that I know heaps of my readers are amazing domestic goddesses so to them, this how-to-make-pancakes-business may seem a little obvious.

BUT. To those who seek a delicious breakfast and don't have a recipe at hand, give this one a crack.

I got this recipe from Jamie Oliver's Christmas TV Special, and I've used it every weekend since then.

You will need:

1 x mug of self raising flour

1 x mug of milk (use the same mug for flour and milk)

2 x pealed and grated pears

2 x eggs

1 x pinch of salt

Directions:

Wack it all in a mixing bowl, whisk it until smooth and then use a large spoon to pop the mixture into your frying pan. Serve with vanilla yoghurt and honey.

FYI- I use a large mug and the amount this recipe makes is enough for like, four really hungry adults.

Amazeballs.

I haven't done it yet, but I reckon you could use strawberries, apples, bananas, cheese, bacon, spinach or whatever instead of pears.

You're welcome!

I should definitely be a food photographer.

Australia Day Confusion: Who am I?

2012-01-26T09:40:00.000+11:00

So.

Today marks the fifteenth anniversary of the day I received a certificate and a key ring from the Mayor of Kalamunda- the day I officially became an Australian citizen and the Australian government chose to ignore the Polish cultural difference between my dad and brother's surname (Piasecki) and my mum's and my surname (Piasecka). Half of my ID says Katherine Piasecka (the name on my British birth certificate) and the other half says Katherine Piasecki. Thank you, Australian government, for 15 years of confusion and repeated explanations.

Anways.

I won't lie, up until five years ago I celebrated my certified Australianism with my fellow Aussies, clad in inappropriately short Australian-flag themed Supre dresses while sculling UDL's down by the South Perth foreshore.

But over the past few years I've become increasingly confused.

January 26 is the day the First Fleet arrived in Australia yes? The day white people landed on our fair shores and claimed it for the mother land, wiping out or enslaving a large percentage of the existing Aboriginal population.

I'm all for celebrating Australia, I love it here- we truly do live in the lucky country, but maybe we should choose a different day to do it. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling white-people-guilt.

The other thing that has confused me greatly is what I consider myself to be.

Am I Australian? Well, legally I suppose.

Am I British? Partly, but I'm the daughter of the child of immigrants. My dad's mum was born in Ireland and my dad's dad was born in Poland. They met in England, were married and had my dad and his siblings in Woking.

My mum's parents and grandparents were all born in the UK, but my maternal great-great-grandparents hailed from Romania and before that INDIA because they were gypsies.

So when people ask me what I consider myself to be, I'm going to start saying I'm human because the fact of the matter is I feel no connection to one particular nation or culture.

I'm a bit of everything.

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What are you?

From Pre Toilet Training Training to Toilet Training!

2012-01-24T07:00:00.000+11:00

A few months ago I wrote about how we had commenced Pre-Toilet Training Training. S was 15 months old and now she is 21 months old (time flies!).

About a month ago we purchased a potty for S but she didn't show much interest in it and we didn't want to force her onto it and push toilet training back like, a year, because she hated the potty.

Anywho. Over the past few weeks S has displayed considerable enthusiasm for wiping. She will always come to the toilet with me, occasionally sit on 'Syenna's Toily' and then while I...ahem...wipe, she grabs some toilet paper and copies me.

Needless to say her penchant for wiping has resulted in a few disastrous consequences, namely the old just-did-a-poo-so-I-better-wipe-with-my-hand situation. Nothing a good mid-afternoon scrub in the bath can't fix!

(I can hear the gagging from my childless friends right about now, my apologies.)

SO.

Today it's pretty warm here in old Melbourne town and S has been running around in the nude (woooOOOoo!). Right before her nap I let her know I would be relieving myself and suggested she may like to give it a crack too.

She sat on the potty. Nothing happened.

Then she picks up her potty and says "come on!", takes it into her room, sits on it and WEEEEEES!!!!!

HOORAY!!!!!!!!! I was so happy I squealed a lot and gave her loads of cuddles and well-dones. S looked VERY pleased with herself.

Let the toilet training begin!! DING DING!

Chanel snap tickets*, that's how we roll.**

*Not really. Image from HERE.

**Ba-dum-tsss.

Seven 'dos for short/medium length hair.

2012-01-23T09:12:00.000+11:00

I'm posting over at Fox in Flats again today! In a hair rut? Perhaps I can help you out. Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-check it out.

Click HERE to read the full article.

Last night I appeared on national television, minus my pants.

2012-01-21T15:04:00.000+11:00

So yesterday started as a regular Friday. Up at 6.53am, showered, ate breakfast with S and then off to work.

That's when things got interesting.

My awesome colleague Simone was all like "Oh hey guys my pal who also works in PR needs some beachy type peeps to appear on Ten's The Project tonight to help promote a saweeet iconic surf movie turned stage production, Morning of the Earth during the Metro Whip Around".

(May have paraphrased)

Anywho another one of my awesome colleagues Taegan and I volunteered ourselves so after work we popped on down to the Regent Theatre where the donned 1970s style head gear and promotional singlets.

I WAS wearing jeans but it seems they aren't very beachy so I threw my dignity out the window, got my pins out, hoped the oversized singlet would cover my bum and thanked the good Lord I was wearing conservative knickers that day.

No Pants McGee and gorgeous Taegan.

Glub glub glub.

That's Em Rusciano! She was amazing, even when some douche in the crowd started heckling her.

Gnarly, bro. Cowabunga!

I felt like a superstar, an actual crowd gathered, heaps of people were having photos with us and the AWESOME wagons we were 'hanging out' around.

So I got my mug on telly for about oooooh 11 seconds, zing! That brings my grand total of random television appearances since moving to Melbourne to FOUR:

1. First day of the snow season at Mt Buller for WIN TV, demonstrating how not to snowboard.
2. Wishing Jason 'Bung' Dunstall a happy birthday for Fox Sports.
3. Cheering on the horses track side on Melbourne Cup day with James Tobin for Sunrise on Seven.
4. 'Surfer girl hangin' ten' for The Project on Ten.

I promise I don't stalk camera crews.

I don't!

...

OH and before I forget, I saw Lior in the chambers of the theatre after we got changed. LIOR! I was so starstruck I just smiled, went bright red, told Taegan 'OHMYGOD. That's. Lior!" and kept walking. What a dork I am.

UPDATE: Here is the video!

The One Where I Meet My Twitter Friend in Real Life

2012-01-17T07:00:00.000+11:00

So I'm on Twitter.

OK I'm addicted to Twitter. I love my Twitter friends, I feel like I really know them even though I've only met a handful of them in real life.

A few months ago I got an email from a girl called Kate, introducing herself and letting me know that she didn't mind all the shiz I talk on this business right here because she too was a 20-something mum.

Anywho, we followed each other on Twitter and I began reading her blog Mumma on the Run about, you guess it, RUNNING. The woman is FIT. She has a six month old baby and she participates in marathons and triathlons regularly. WOWZER.

Last week she tweeted me this:

So I emailed her and we arranged to go running the following week.

Yes, meet in REAL LIFE.

I was so nervous. All of a sudden I felt like Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail, except without the romance. So many questions were racing through my mind.

Will I look like what she thinks I look like?

Will she be disappointed with my personality?

What if my blogging voice is totally different to how I act in real life?

What if she thinks I'm an internet predator?

Is she going to be tall or short?

I wonder what her voice sounds like.

Oh my god, I AM an internet predator!

We decided to run The Tan (the running track around the Botanical Gardens) together on Thursday night.

I drove there. She ran there. From home. And then back again afterwards, and she doesn't live in South Yarra.

Me: "Wow. I thought you'd be bigger! I mean, taller!" (That didn't come out right!)

Kate: "You look like a Toorak mum and I look like your personal trainer!"

That's about right. Kate was rocking a pro running outfit, actually looking like she did this regularly. I looked like someone in costume, wearing a ridiculous 80's headband.

La Douche pre-run.

Post run: I got a blisterrrr! Worth it.

What a legend, she actually got me running and I didn't die!

We've organised to go running again on Wednesday.

Now we are real life running buddies not just internet friends! And neither of us are predators!

*flexes*

'My Family' stickers gone wild.

2012-01-16T07:00:00.000+11:00

I don't consider myself one who is enraged at the sight of those 'My Family' stickers on cars as it appears so many people are. You know the ones. But over the past week two of my friends have come across the following, and it's left me slightly baffled:

My friend Rabby captured this one.

My excellent school mate Em was wowed by this.

What does this MEAN? Are these two vehicle owners the butt of someone's joke? Are they looking for love and ipso facto, more stickers to add? Or do they genuinely consider their BBQ and fish bowel to be apart of their small family unit? Do these people also have reindeer antlers, giant red noses and/or Australian flags displayed on their cars?

I need answers and I need them now.

Do you have 'My Family' stickers on your car? What are your thoughts on this new single-person-and-pet-or-household-appliance-stickers phenomenon?

How To Get Rid of Your Toddler's Dummy: Daytime Edition

2012-01-12T14:38:00.000+11:00

So Little S uses a dummy. She has had it since birth and she LOVES it. Up until a couple of months ago we would let her have it every time she sounded unhappy. She calls it her 'doo-doo' and it is her bestest bestie.

Recently, we decided enough was enough. S is 20 months old, we need to get rid of this thing by the age of two. Of course it was our fault she loves it so, we were the ones who gave it to her in the first place and became suckers to it (pardon the pun). It was an easy way out.

Peter Parker and I thought it would be a grouse idea to limit her dummy usage to sleep time only. I came up with this genius plan:

*One morning last month*
S: "Hello mummy!"
Me: "Morning Little Miss!"
*Pop the dummy out.*
S: "WAAAAHHH!!!!! DOODOOO!! DOODOOOOOO!!"
Me: "It's time for Doodoo to go to sleep darling. It's been working so hard all night and it needs to rest now."
*Place the dummy on top of her wardrobe, out of sight.*
S: "DOOOOOOOOOOOOODOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOO!!!! WAAAHHHH!!!!!! MUMMY DOODOO!!"
*S refuses breakfast, throws herself at the foot of the wardrobe and screams for a solid 30 minutes before getting up and walking off sobbing, refusing to make eye contact with me.*

That afternoon after her nap I do the same thing.

She does the same thing. But for less time.

The next morning.

S: "Hi mum!"
*Pops out her own dummy*
S: "Night night doodoo."
*Waves and hands me her dummy*

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

Parents 1- Sienna 0

S in her toddler bed with her big girl pillow, 'Doodoo', 'Teddybear', 'Uppydaisy' and 'Mimi'.

I probably could have gone complete cold turkey buuuuut she (and I) didn't sleep for the first six months of 2011 so if this helps her go to sleep (she gets genuinely excited at the prospect of bed time because she gets her beloved doodoo) then I'm not taking it off her. PLUS it's never in her mouth when I check on her at 11pm each night so I figure it's not doing her teeth and our future orthodontic bills any harm.

Need a baby shower gift?

2012-01-11T07:00:00.000+11:00

So if you are anything like me, all of your friends are getting married and having babies (not necessarily in that order!). If you, like I once did, struggle to find an original and USEFUL gift for your soon-to-be or new mummy friends, then lady (or man!) read on.

My excellent friend Renee has launched a fabulous new venture called The Precious Wren.

Renee, who is based in Baldivis (46km south of Perth), creates the most amazing hand crafted gifts from items new mums actually need; nappies, lotions, bunny rugs, dummies, towels, socks and soft toys (amongst other things!).

Have a squiz at THESE:

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? Amazeballs.

Holy shit. Awesome.

Renee creates nappy cakes, unique nappy gifts (as shown above!) and gift bouquets. The uber creative mama-to-one is also happy to create custom gifts- just shoot her an email. Prices start at $25 and The Precious Wren offers Australia-wide delivery.

Please note: Gender neutral gifts are of course available!

For more information pop on over to The Precious Wren on Facebook.

Saweet YouTube Clips For Toddlers

2012-01-09T07:00:00.000+11:00

So because I'm an education appreciating maniac I thought I would share with everyone my Little Boss's favourite YouTube clips. I find them to be a really great learning tool (aside from books of course) and you can watch them on your computer or on your smart phone/tablet anywhere you have internet access.

I have HEAPS saved in our favourites folder but these three are S's absolute favourites, she sings along to all of them and I think they are helping to improve her speech.

I'm so Gen Y.

I have a new boss, her name is Sienna.

2012-01-05T07:00:00.000+11:00

Technically she's been my boss for twenty months now but now she has started to actually boss me around. With words. English words, not baby gibberish.

Examples:

S: "Mummy!"
Me: "Yes darling?"
S: "Sit down!"
*Wags finger at me*
Me: "Pardon me?"
S: "Sit. Down!"
*I sit down*
S: "Tan koo, good mummy."

S: "Mummy!"
Me: "Yes master?"
S: "Water?"
*Fetch water bottle*
S: "Tan koo, where mummy's water?"
*Fetch my water bottle*
Me: "Here!"
S: "Mummy water. Sienna water. Cheers!"
*We cheers our bottles*
S: "HAHAHAHA CHEERS!"
*Cheers*
S: "HAHAHA CHEERS!"
*Cheers*
S: "CHEERS!"
Me: "I'm going to kill the person who taught you the word cheers."
S: "CHEEERRRSS!!"
*Cheers*
Me: "..."

Oh and here's one that recently backfired on us. Peter Parker and I always say "Not for babies!" when S touches something she isn't meant to. As I blogged about recently, this has translated to "NO BABIES!".

Example:

Sienna is playing with 9 month old Rahi. Rahi picks up one of Sienna's toys.

S: "NO BABIES!! NO!"
*Wags finger*

This might have to be a regular thing now she is stringing words together. Life is going to get a whooole lot more highlarious.

"Mummy! Two hats! More tun-trean!"

What to do when you find baby birds that have fallen from the nest.

2012-01-03T09:36:00.000+11:00

Remain calm.

Read THIS fact sheet (thanks Loz).

Call your local wildlife rescue service.

Do what they say.

OR.

You can be like me and LOSE YOUR SHIT after finding a tiny, featherless hungry baby bird on the ground under its nest and one more clinging onto a piece of bark half way down the tree, clearly injured.

Cry.

Ask Facebook and Twitter what to do.

Cry.

On the advice of a friend, go to the RSPCA website and read what they say.

Cry.

Contact Help For Wildlife (0417 380 687) as listed on the RSPCA website and speak to a very helpful and matter-of-fact woman about what to do.

Cry.

On her advice, call another, more local service on 1300 094 535, leave a message and then panic and cry some more.

After an hour, beg Peter Parker to get the baby bird hanging from the tree, out of the tree and then don the gardening gloves and pop the babies into an empty tissue box, wrapped in a towel.

Cry.

Watch Peter Parker shake his head for the thousandth time, knowing he is thinking "how the hell did I end up with this crazy bitch?".

Call the local wildlife rescue service again and leave a second message letting them know the new birds-in-a-box-in-my-laundry situation.

Cry.

While waiting for them to ring back, panic and Google things like "what to feed a baby bird" and "can I feed a baby bird bread?" only to discover baby birds eat a million different things depending on what kind of bird they are and at a young age, need to be fed every two hours.

Freak out and cry some more while watching the two little baby birds desperately bobbing up and down with their beaks wide open waiting for food.

Get a call back from local wildlife rescue only to learn they aren't so local. The lovely man tells me to call Pet Emergency in Malvern East on 03 9569 3677.

Cry a bit more for good measure and then while holding back tears call Pet Emergency who let me know they will gladly take the baby birds off my hands.

At 10.30pm hop in the car and take the birds to the service.

Briefly and without crying (but clearly looking like I had been crying) explain to the nice lady what the sitch was.

Leave the birds with the vet and drive home, crying hysterically.

I know what you are thinking.

Thanks Jre, always on the ball.

Anyways.

I woke up at 5.43am and went to my 6am yoga class.

I am now feeling much more zen.

Namaste.

Oh heeeeeeey 2012

2012-01-02T15:55:00.001+11:00

GREETINGS!

I hope everyone enjoyed the festive season, I sure did. I'm still in holiday mode so my brain is technically mush soooo I've popped a select few of the 50,000 crappy iPhone photos I've taken over the past two weeks into a couple of slideshows.

The first gallery (I learned to spell this correctly after some keyboard warrior corrected me anonymously on Mamamia recently) contains images from our trip down to Sandy Point (see map). I LOVED it down there. We stayed at a friend's family holiday house (thanks Stace!) with a bunch of our mates and I discovered that my Little Miss is a real bossy boots! Marc and Lima's 9 month old son was there and I think Sienna told him off about a hundred times in three days ("NO BABIES!!") when he tried to play with her toys. Hmmm! We can't have this! I don't know WHERE she gets it from...*whistles*

Anyways, this is where Sandy Point is..

View Larger Map

On New Year's Eve, Peter Parker's parents, sister and her family came over for a swim in our SAWEEEEET new blow up pool ($78 from Toys R Us) because it was 35 degrees. HOT. I felt like I was back in Perth. We stuffed our faces full of Peter Parker's delicious cooking and enjoyed a few (too many in my case) wines.

By the time midnight rolled around I was inappropriately drunk and watching the local fireworks from our garden while marvelling at the giant possum sitting on our fence. I lasted until 12.40am and then woke up feeling seedy even after responsibly sculling HEAPS of water. Should have picked up some gastrolyte or something..

Anywho it was a fantastic way to welcome the new year, all I can say is THANK GOD we chose to buy our pool on New Years Eve instead of ordering one online because today it's 40 degrees in Melbourne. YUK.

I hope everyone had an excellent silly season. Peter Parker is back at work tomorrow and I'm back next week so I'm making the most of temporarily being a stay at home mum.

Oh yeah. Living the dream baby.

"It's not Christmas without Mariah Carey."

2011-12-26T11:53:00.003+11:00

So it's Boxing Day and the cricket is on.

I've decided to take this moment to write about our Christmas Day because let's face it, cricket is really boring unless you're at the game and slightly drunk. Or a lot drunk in my case.

Anywho.

We started off our Christmas morning with what was supposed to be a Jamie Oliver inspired pear- pancakes-with-vanilla-yogurt-and-honey-on-top extravaganza with my brother Joe, his pregnant girlfriend/my friend first Catherine and Catherine's brother Paul aka Rabby. Buuut after suffering a Dr House-esque bout of who-knows-what since the early hours of last Monday morning, Catherine found herself being whisked off to hospital at 2am Christmas morning by my brother. Poor Catherine has been the Mayor of Struggle Town this past week. Three rounds of scans and blood tests later, all they know is her symptoms are possibly caused by something in her liver. The baby is fine and as of this morning Catherine appears to be on the mend. Awful! Needless to say they did not make our pancake fest so it was a small party of S, Peter Parker, Rabby and I. Get well soon Catherine, I have leftover pancake mixture in the fridge for you!

Little Madame's second Christmas, still didn't really get it. Next year!

"NO DAAAD!" But secretly YES.

Tucking in to the pancake feast.

Christmas cracker jokes, cheap laughs- love it!

After a morning of Mariah Carey, Justin Bieber and New Kids on the Block Christmas tunes, we cleaned up and headed out to Peter Parker's parent's house in the Yarra Valley for a very Parker Christmas. I'll let the pictures do the talking- great day/night, you guessed it, we never made it home. Thanks for the internetz usage Jude.

Let the unwrapping frenzy begin! Once again, spoiled by Nan and Pop.


Literally the coolest and hugest doll house I have ever SEEN! It has a lift!

Wine, anyone?

It wouldn't be a Parker Christmas without a bit of spillage.

Peter Parker and I.

More cheap yet highlarious laughs.

Mwahahaha. Apparently these plastic mos were a popular Christmas cracker surprise.

I'm sorry, I just can't help myself.

Peter Parker, Pop, Uncle Chris and cousin Josh all ended up soaked after this.

Cousins Josh (nearly 4), S (20 months) and Isacc (14 months).

Delirious and hysterical babies at the end of a massive day.

Marge! The rains are 'ere!

Wowzer. It thundered ALL day, especially in the late afternoon.

28 degrees and RAAAIIIIN.

I think Mother Nature had a bit too much to drink.

I hope all of my brilliant readers had an awesome Christmas, especially my parents and brothers in sunny Perth and my sister who is currently in East Timor (for the third time- she's only 18!) and interning at the nation's Disaster Department and teaching kids English. Be safe! My parents got my 21 year old brother Patrick a sand board. He got dad a nose hair trimmer that "looks like an instrument of torture". Best son ever!

And on that note, I shall leave you with Mariah Carey's 'All I Want For Christmas Is You'. You're welcome!

What did you get up to this Christmas? Did you get a mo in your Christmas Cracker too?

Because being classy as shit is what we're about.

2011-12-22T15:11:00.000+11:00

No. Your eyes do not deceive you, it's a chandelier. That's the ceiling of our rented home's lounge room. We didn't install it, or any of the various mismatching light fixtures in our 85 year old house. Love this joint, it's got character.

Anyways.

This morning Peter Parker, S and I went to Kmart, Coles and Bunnings to finish off our Christmas shopping and came home with a car load of stuff, including three (in our opinion) extremely realistic 'flickering flame globes'.

Yes. We chose to remove our perfectly functional energy efficient globes and replace them with $3-a-piece pretend candles which basically emit no light at all, rendering reading or general non-seedy social interactions impossible.

So awesome.

You're jealous aren't you?

Yeah you are.

This kid is growing up in one class-ay household.

Crapp-Beer

2011-12-21T13:47:00.000+11:00

First off the block today a big fat WELL DONE to my amazing primary school friend Jayne who gave birth to her first baby on Monday night, all 8 pounds and 8 ounces (3.85kg) of her. Welcome to the world little Sophie and congratulations to new parents Jayne and Rob! You can read all about Jayne's pregnancy journey on her blog, The Jagger Files.

In more baby news my Mother's Group friend Siobhan and hubby Sanj have announced they are expecting their second child, a little boy, in June! WOOO!! Siobhan is the second member of our MG to fall pregnant with her second after Joke, who gave birth to son Raffael last week- our first born's are all 19-21 months now.

And finally (for today at least!) congratulations to Peter Parker's old house-mates Tim and Tess who have FINALLY announced their engagement while travelling through Asia. Can't wait to see you guys when you get back! Tim and Tess went to high school together, cute!

OK so does anyone else want to get engaged, married or pregnant? I should just stop kidding myself and turn my blog into an Announcements website.

I couldn't help myself. More HERE.

Law & Order: Special Letters Unit

2011-12-15T06:55:00.000+11:00

Oh my god.

It's happened!

Today S and I were watching Sesame Street and THIS happened:

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat.

For those of you who don't know, I am OBSESSED with Law & Order: SVU and more specifically, Detective Elliot Stabler.

Our TV worlds collide.

One question though, where's Ice T?

DUN DUN.

Hello Silly Season, my old friend!

2011-12-13T14:01:00.000+11:00

It's been a pre-tty crazy last few days. On Saturday night Peter Parker and I went out with the girls from my office. It was Ally's birthday so I put on my highest shoes and took my new hair out for a spin.

New huurrrrr.

We went out to The Bridge Hotel in Richmond which is apparently the place to be these days. It's newly renovated and we had to LINE UP to get in for like, half an hour. I can't remember the last time I had to line up to get into a pub or club, not because I'm a wikkud cool VIP, just because I don't get out much and when I do it's normally to somewhere that doesn't necessitate a line.

Anyways, apart from zero ventilation in the restaurant and faulty extractor fans resulting in the smoke alarms CONSTANTLY going off, the Bridge is AWESOME. Peter Parker says it reminded him of Spanish laneways and balconies. It's so gorgeous, I haven't ever seen a bar like it.

Slightly embarrassing was the following conversation I had with a guy as Taegan and I walked out of the loo:

Guy: "Hey GIRLS. You've got some white powder on your nose."
Me: (Thinking he meant pressed powder) "Oh do I?" (Rubs nose).
Guy: "HAHAHAHAHAHA."
Me: "..."
Guy: "..."
Me: "Oh! Do you mean cocaine? Oh no! I don't take drugs!"
Guy: "Sure you don't."
Me: "Well thanks for the heads up. Jerk."

Oh cringe.

Ally has vetoed all photos from the night because they are HO-rendous. Such a fun night, Peter Parker and I got home at nearly 3AM! Parents gone wild! WOOOOOOOO. We went and scooped S up from her nan and pops on Sunday afternoon. Bliss!

Anywho.

Monday night saw the super classy annual event that is my pub job's Christmas party. I actually finished working there two weeks ago but I still rocked up for the manager-free, patron-free and country-themed free-for-all booze fest. I'll let the pictures do the talking.

I was Miss America, but of course I had to be a little inappropriate.

Sweet toilet paper sash, me.

Mama Sweden and baby Sweden (my niece or nephew!!).

Anna Kornokova of Russia and Queen Lizzie herself.

Legs McGee aka France, Me, Mama Sweden, Miss India and Brazzzzzil!

Oh ZING! Hello ladies!

Sword swallowing attempt.

Apparently he wasn't wearing any knickers.

I'm not sure which country Bernie is from, I'm sure he is just psyched to not be
dressed as a jocky again.

Chloe & Bernie and poor Hugh in the background who was
rostered on to work for the first few hours.

What a top night. I woke up at 5.42am the following morning and attending a 6am yoga class. "Why the fuck did you do that?" I hear you asking. I can honestly say I have no idea. I was easily the seediest person in that room, struggle town during my warrior poses- the old guy in front of me was killing it compared to me.

Last night Lizzle Berry and Tamsin came over for what I could only describe as the most de-lish tapas FEAST prepared by the one and only Peter Parker. Thanks bebe. You ze best!

This afternoon I'm expecting Marc and Lima and their baby son, Rahi who are visiting from Bangladesh. I'm so excited to meet Rahi!

Tonight Ryan and Kate are popping over for dinner and drinks. YUM.

Aaaaand at some point over the coming week we get to meet Joke's new son who has yet to be named. Congratulations to Joke and Adam and big sister Sahara on the birth of their newest family member!

Hello silly season. I'm baaaaaaaack!

Feeling Foxy?

2011-12-08T13:06:00.001+11:00

Then pop on over to Fox in Flats today to see my wee post on looking half decent when you are pushed for time.

I even got my own bio. I'm so excited!

HOORAH!

Click HERE to "Like" Fox in Flats on Facebook and click HERE to like MY BLOG! It's time for me to pick up the slack on Facebook, please Like Like Like!

Working Mum v Stay At Home Mum: How About We All Just Relax

2011-12-05T12:32:00.001+11:00

Today the media is once again going nuts over the Working Mother With Help vs The Stay At Home Mother Who Does It All Herself debate following a story about Ita Buttrose and her pro-nanny stance which has been syndicated throughout many News Ltd publications.

For as long as I can remember, my mum has been a working mum. She went to university, obtained her MBA and currently works as a social marketing professional in a consulting role. For several years my dad, a mechanic by trade, stayed at home with my five siblings and I, still fixing the odd car here and there. He later went back to TAFE and now works with elderly and disabled people, he picks them up on a bus and does fun, day-long activities with them and then drops them home, he loves it. We never had a nanny but some of us went to childcare/three year old kinda/holiday care when required, and then we looked after each other- one of the perks of a large family.

Anways. My point is that growing up I was never exposed to traditional parenting roles, so in my mind, I knew I would work after having children because that's what my mum did.

After having Sienna, the first mums I met were the girls in my mother's group. Every single one of them is a professional. We have two lawyers, a business owner, two consultants, a marketing manager and an artist with her own gallery. And me: student journalist and PR beginner. All of us have returned to work or are about to in some capacity bar one because she is due to have her second baby literally today (come on kid, get out!), and her job is back in the UK. Three of the children are in childcare, three are looked after by family members and one has a nanny.

It wasn't until I started reading online forums and blogs like THIS that I discovered a lot of women were anti-childcare/nannies. Many women believe that if you choose to have children then it is your responsibility as a mother to stay at home and raise those children yourself. I have read multitudes of angry comments about what a disgrace it is to 'dump your children in childcare' or 'let someone else raise your child for you'. Apparently women who return to work are 'selfish'. I could go on for hours.

I'm just going to put it out there. I chose to return to university when S was 10 months old and then work when she was 14 months old for three reasons:

1. I want a degree.I started one seven years ago and never graduated, this time, I'm getting that certificate because I know I'm smart enough and I want to say to my daughter that I graduated from university and so can she.

2. We need the money. Childcare is EXPENSIVE (ours is $84 a day AFTER the childcare benefit of which we get 12%) but I still earn more than that a day, so technically we are coming out on top. I think long term; in five years I will be earning more than I am now, but you need to start somewhere so it's better that I get these lower-earning years over with now.

3. I want to secure my place in the job market. I'm 25, I haven't yet established my career. I am lucky enough to have scored an awesome job in a PR agency that is flexible with my working days/hours if required. I work as a junior, two days a week (three as of January 31 next year), and I love it. I didn't want to stay at home with S until she reached high school and then try to get the kind of job I currently have as a 36 year old woman with half a Communications degree and no recent experience.

I make no apologies for being a working mum. S is in care two, soon to be three, days a week. Her centre is located at Peter Parker's work, he drops her off at 8.30AM and picks her up at 6PM. We make her breakfast and get her ready for the day in the morning and then we give her dinner and get her ready for bed in the evening. Sienna loves childcare, she and her little best friend have a ball. The centre is amazing (it's very multicultural so S is exposed to many different traditions and cultures) and the carers are so lovely.

I want my Little Miss to value education and a career in whatever she chooses to do while always remembering the importance of family.

But that's just us; parents to one child. We know it will change if we are lucky enough to have another baby, if that happens then I will take time off, just like I did with Sienna, and then I will once again return to work, part time. If you want to/can afford to/have to stay at home with your children until they grow up, then more power to you. I won't judge you for it, so please don't think poorly of those who choose the alternative. To each their own.

Sienna and her bestest buddy Francesca at their childcare Christmas party.

Are you a working mum or a stay at home mum? What works for your family? If you plan on trying for children in the future, what do you think your arrangement will be?

What To Do When Your Toddler Loses Their Shit In a Public Place

2011-12-01T07:00:00.000+11:00

It is becoming increasingly difficult to complete the weekly food shopping with S in tow because she has officially reached what is commonly known as "THE TERRRIIIBLE TWOOOOOS", even though she is only 19 months old.

Example.

Yesterday we went to Coles to do the food shopping. Everything is fine until we reach the shopping trollies. Little Madame goes all loco on me, yelling "NO! NO! NO!" and doing the limp thing so I can't hold onto her properly. After successfully wrestling her into the seat on the trolly (because trust me, there is NO WAY I am letting her walk about in the super market, experience tells me she just throws shit around and runs off on me), she continues to yell at me and dry hump the seat while smacking my hands as I try and push her through the shop.

My little angel- 90% of the time.

Anyways.

I have a few little tricks up my sleeve (at the supermarket) and I'm hoping you peeps have some tips for me.

1. Remain calm and ignore screaming toddler. If you are calm, they will calm down.
2. Bring snacks. I do this occasionally but I worry that someone will be all "Are you gunna pay for that?" about it, and I'll have to be all "Oh I bought this last week!" etc.
3. Allow your toddler to hold one or two items for you. This works so long as the toddler can't gnaw through the packaging and consume uncooked meat for example, or if the object can be smashed upon impact with the floor. Common sense should prevail but let's face it, occasionally you are in a state of panic and you will make a bad choice.
4. Make the trolly ride fun by irresponsibly spinning it around or 'snaking' up the isles at a high speed. Not recommended but I won't lie, I've tried it.
5. Complete your shopping at record pace and return home before you fall victim to a nervous break down.

OK so that's everything I've tried. Has anyone got any tips for me?

How to Bake Savoury Muffins: A Guide For The Domestically Challenged

2011-11-30T13:10:00.001+11:00

Click here for the savoury muffins recipe.

This morning I arose from my slumber with one goal in mind: to get in the kitchen and bake.

I have no idea where this idea came from so I'm going to blame Peter Parker and go with the idea that maybe he was whispering "bake me something you kitchen-hater, I am sick of being your man-servant at dinner time every night" to me in my sleep.

I'm so lucky to have Peter Parker, he is an excellent boyfriend.

Anyways, I put out the call on Twitter this morning and Melinda at Mumma in Heels rushed to my aid with THIS recipe for savoury muffins.

Fearing the worst because a) our oven sucks so we have to wedge it closed with a brick and a broom handle and b) I didn't want Peter Parker to think his whispering-to-me-in-my-sleep method had failed and try something more extreme, I followed the recipe and method EXACTLY as Melinda wrote it and BAM:

HELLO LADIES

As per Melinda's recipe I added zucchini, cheese and spinach. I went a little crazy and ALSO added, wait for it, CAPSICUM.

Woah! Yeah I did!

De-lish. Go on, get in the kitchen.

Yesterday it rained in Melbourne..

2011-11-27T10:19:00.001+11:00

..and our garden temporarily became a swimming pool. Little Madame had a ball!

Gutter fail.

Got my wellies on. Drain fail.

Stubbies and thongs ,that's how Peter Parker rolls.

"Dad where are your wellies?"

Peter Parker attempting to salvage the items in our garage.

The back corner of our garden and Sienna's thumb.

How to register yourself as an organ donor

2011-11-24T16:14:00.000+11:00

Please go and grab your Medicare card and click HERE to register as an organ donor.

Having lost a childhood friend several years ago to preventable heart failure, organ donation is an issue I am passionate about. I watched the incredible 14-year-old cystic fibrosis sufferer Coen Ashton on The Project a couple of nights ago and it inspired me to write this post!

You can watch the segment HERE.

My adventure-loving and extreme out-doorsy friend Brad might still be alive today if more people were registered as organ donors. Brad was on the waiting list for a new heart after he developed an infection from a cold which caused his heart to grow too large and cease to function properly. He was told he wouldn't live to see most of his twenties unless he received a new heart AND if his body didn't reject it. In the last few months of his life, Brad wore a backpack 24 hours a day which contained the battery that powered the machine implanted in his chest, pumping his big heart for him. He could not walk further than a few hundred metres from his home (four doors down from my parent's house) in case the beeper he kept on him went off- meaning a heart had become available and he was to be rushed to surgery in an ambulance and operated on immediately.

Sadly Brad wasn't lucky enough to receive the life saving heart transplant. Brad was the first friend I ever lost, I couldn't even bring my 20-year-old self to attend his funeral which is a regret I will always live with.

Brad and I at the 2003 Lesmurdie SHS Ball

Brad's 18th birthday party invitation.
This night is how I choose to remember him, awesome.

If you haven't already, please go and grab your Medicare card and click HERE to register as an organ donor.

For more information on organ donation in Australia including actual statistics, click HERE.

Go on, do it for Brad.

Mix and match.

2011-11-23T08:00:00.000+11:00

This post is all about things that don't match so off we go!

My excellent primary school buddy Jayne has officially gotten her blog up and running. Jayne is due to have her first baby in five weeks with hubby Rob and you can read all about it in The Jagger Files.

My wonderful parentals were in town last week, here are some of my favourite photos from their visit.

S running to give her 'dad-dad' (Granddad) a cuddle.

Cuddles for granny.

The awesome slide from Granny and Dad-Dad.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

Speaking of awesome, my awesome friend Joke who I met at my mother's group last year is moving to GERMANY in January for 18 months, just one month after the birth of her second child. Boo :( I will miss her and of course little Sahara and fiancé Adam. WHY YOU LEAVE ME, HUH? WHYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!

Why you separate us for? Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

And finally, here is a photo of two of our excellent and newly engaged friends from this past weekend. I had to change the filter on it so I didn't look so white next Ben and Emma who currently live in Cairnes. Congratulations lovers!!!

L-R: Me, Ben, Emma, Peter Parker

How to not look like shit.

2011-11-22T08:00:00.000+11:00

So I have been inspired by the genius mind that is Andrea at Fox in Flats and have decided to write my own how-to guide for too-busy-and-tired-to-give-a-crap mums.

Kate Piasecka's Top 5 Tips On How To Not Look Like Shit When Pushed For Time:

1. Hair. Now I don't know about you, but when it comes to my hair, I am really lazy. I'm going to be completely honest, I only wash it like, once a week. I wash it on Tuesday mornings before work so I have nice, clean, straightened hair for one day. For the following three days I pop it up in a bun high on top of my head. I don't re-do it, I just keep putting more bobby pins in it where required. On Saturday morning after three days of marinating in grease, I take out the fifty bobby pins my hair has accumulated, hang my head upside down, brush the roots out and then pop my once-straight hair into a high, 'playfully curly' (but actually disgustingly greasy) pony tail. Bit of hair spray and you're on your way. Monday's are my most feral day but I find I can get one last day out of my pony tail (now wavy rather than curly) before tomorrow's weekly hair wash. Reading that back to myself makes me feel a little bit sick actually.

2. Face. On Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays I put on my full face because that's when I work. On Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Sundays, however, I have a toddler standing next to me begging for "more toothpaste" so I have limited time to make myself look slightly more glamorous than a corpse. This is what I do. Moisturise. Apply just enough bronzer (remembering to BLEND down my neck) to look alive but not enough to look like I've face planted into a pooey nappy. Curl eyelashes. If time, apply a bit of mascara. And that's it. Do you know what I should do? Buy a tinted moisturiser.

My no-frills beauty equipment.

3. Earrings. I'm not one to wear much jewellery. This is mostly because I never buy any and when I do, I usually lose it. I do however enjoy a pair of fake pearl earrings (eBay, $2), because they make me feel polished. Combined with my appropriately bronzed face, 'classy' high bun/'playful' ponytail, I feel like I look not half bad.

Awkward head tilt totes necessary to display high ponytail and
$2 earrings.

4. The 'casual mum' uniform. This consists of the same 'look' year round, layered according to the weather. Right now it's black skinny jeans (nothing fancy and usually covered in some kind of excretion- baby wiped often), black/white/grey thick strapped singlet or 'loose fit' tee in same colours and a pair of black Havaiana thongs. Before I moved to Melbourne from sunny Perth and purchased my first ever pair of boots, I lived in my Havvies year round, and now during spring/summer, I still do. In the cooler months I team this same look with a pair of knee high boots because they a) keep my dry, b) keep me warm and c) make me feel a little bit sophisticated. Jacket, cardi, scarf and BAM, there she is! The half decent-looking mama. Oh and I should state, this is my leaving-the-house uniform. At home it's my those-aren't-pants leggings and a hoody.

Note to self: paint toenails.

Remember to bronze your chest, you don't want to look like
cadbury top deck.

5. Feeling good on the inside. Make sure you eat food three times a day and drink water. When I don't eat, I suffer from severe hangryitis. That's hunger and anger combined. Also don't put off going to the toilet. Seriously, nothing will make you more scatter-brained and frustrated than constipation. Mate, someone had to say it. You know it's true.

So there you have it. That's how I do 'foxy'.

Melbourne City Masquerade 2011: VIDEO

2011-11-21T21:52:00.001+11:00

Have a peep at this video! It was made by the very talented Ravi Chand of Entertainment Embassy. My head pops up 0:50, my first real life piece to camera! Can't wait for next year...

I'm doing a downward facing dog on my life. Or something.

2011-11-21T11:54:00.001+11:00

So it suddenly came to my attention this weekend that this year I have become one of those people who whines constantly about being sick.

Never in my life have I been as unwell I have been this year. Let's face it, I'm not on the brink of death, nor have I suffered from anything truly dreadful like cancer, BUT it isn't the best to just keep copping the little punches.

*blows nose*

To give you an idea, I've had the worst hay fever ever for the majority of this year, six bouts of Gastro (not kidding) and worst of all, bowel contractions for three days which I swear to god, were equal in pain to labour.

I'm one of those lucky, annoyingly thin people, but as I have previously blogged, I possess the fitness level of an 80-year-old chain smoker and when I stress, the weight falls of me.

I work two, part time jobs and I study journalism at uni, part time, and of course on top of this, I am a mum to an increasingly speedy and chatty toddler who is in childcare (AKA cesspool of germs) two days a week. Now I'm not trying to blow my own trumpet, but it seems I may be over doing it.

So in light of this revelation, I am going to attempt to sort my shit out. I am tired of feeling like crap but because I am an irritatingly ambitious Gen Y, I'm not going to stop doing anything, I'm going to do MORE. More stuff for my health I mean. Wait for it....I'm going to start practising Yoga.

Recently I read a story in my local paper about a 90-something woman who has practised Yoga for several decades and as a result is the fittest and most flexible 90-something in the universe. I kid you not, in the photo accompanying the article where she banged on about feeling amazing and relaxed and aware of herself, she was doing the splits.

Anywho, I thought to myself, if she can do it, so can I!

So Yoga it it. I'm starting next week.

I lost the article so instead I googled "old people doing yoga".
Photo by Jim Jacobs. I wonder if he's old and into yoga too.

Do you feel like crap? What are you going to do about it?

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH

2011-11-13T09:11:00.001+11:00

My parentals arrive tonight from Perth, they are staying with us for a week so we are transforming our rarely-used dining room into an extra bedroom for them.

Peter Parker and I cleaned the entire house and garage and garden in preparation for their arrival yesterday and since then I have become a cleanliness nazi. Example:

Me: "No shoes in the house!"
PP: "But you are wearing shoes."
Me: "Damnit."

I might have to do a quick once over before we head to the airport later today.

So S has met her Granny and Grandad several times, however the last time she physically saw them was in January when we flew to P-town. SO in order to familiarise her with their faces and to avoid a WHO-THE-FUCK-ARE-YOU-PEOPLE-AND-WHY-ARE-YOU-SLEEPING-IN-OUR-RARELY-USED-DINING-ROOM style freak out, I have placed photos of mum and dad in a picture frame next to Sienna's bed. Every night this week she has taken it off her bedside table and slept with it.

Today we find out if my plan has succeeded.

S calls them 'Nanny and dad'. This could get weird. Sorry dad, you may
have to be a GrandPA.

It's official

2011-11-13T08:43:00.001+11:00

I have reached the 'weddings and babies' point in my life. Several of my friends have had babies and gotten engaged and married over the last year or two but it seems that suddenly we've experienced a massive influx in the past week.

Congratulations to Astrid who, after a mammoth and complicated labour, gave birth to her absolutely adorable son Forrest this week. Induced two weeks early because he was so BIG. Well done, Astrid.

In honour of Fi and C-Hudd, and E-Mac and BJ who have announced their engagements and highlarious Bianca who I used to work with in Perth getting hitched in the past 48 hours, I have embedded my favourite song from my favourite movie below:

To see the actual scene which apparently you can't embed click HERE. Go on, do yourself a favour.

Congratulations, everyone!

So long, Bebe.

2011-11-09T16:11:00.000+11:00

Yesterday we said our final goodbyes to Peter Parker's grandmother, Betty Parker (aka 'Bebe') in a lovely ceremony out in the Yarra Valley where Peter Parker grew up and where Bebe and her husband built their home so many decades ago.

Unfortunately Bebe never really knew who Sienna and I were because by the time she met me, and then 10 months later, S, her memory had ceased to function at its fullest extent; Bebe suffered for a long time from dementia, as did my own Granny Blackwell.

I wish I had gotten the chance to meet Bebe at her healthiest, she seemed like a really hilarious and loving woman.

Rest in peace Bebe.

For more information on how you can fight dementia, please read this letter from my IDOL, Ita Buttrose, who is the President of Alzheimer’s Australia.

VIDEO: Courtesy of Alzheimer’s Australia

Strange child.

2011-11-09T15:28:00.001+11:00

You can't see it in this photo that I took about 20 minutes ago, but S has a cotton wool ball stuck in her ear. It's not stuck exactly, she has just managed to wedge it in. Apparently it's there to stay because I've tried to sneakily take it out a few times but she is onto me quicker than I thought possible and POP, back in it goes.

Strange child. I don't know where she gets it from.

*whistles casually*

Emirates Stakes Day: An iPhonographic account

2011-11-07T21:05:00.000+11:00

Prim and proper at the start of the day,

My fellow door biatch, beautiful Clare in Sass and Bide.

Lanyards and clipboards are what I'm about.

Ready to start ticking off names and denying people who tried
the old 'oh my friend is in this marquee' trick. Come on mate, really?

The hottest DJ about town. HELLO Kate Jean.

The lucky man who married Kate Jean, DJ SELEKT. Their babies
will be on the decks right out of the womb.

Clare and the marquee before the crowds built!

One of the guests (of Sri Lankan descent) in the marquee nicknamed me 'Vanilla Face'.
Damnit!

Sunburnt and in need of a sugar kick. And flat shoes. Door
bitching is tough work.

The English boy out the back of the marquee who spent 14 hours crushing glass
every day throughout the spring racing carnival. Glass crushing is tough work.

WINE!! After a long day of standing in the glorious sunshine,
we enjoyed one (large) glass of wine each. And got pissed.
Woops.

Pretty,

One of the bar staff modelling for kisforkatejean.blogspot.com

Enjoying the air-con. Mmmmm. Coldness.

Delirious.

Oh yeah. Good times.

"Come on guys, it had to happen to one of us."

2011-11-07T20:33:00.000+11:00

This is what my excellent school buddy Emma said years ago. Twice. The first time was when she got cancer (and then beat it) and the second time was when she fell pregnant and had her aaaaabsolutely beautiful daughter who is now in primary school. Emma was in Melbourne over the weekend so we caught up on Friday night at the Emerald Peacock in the city and had a few drinks. I don't want to incriminate myself so that's all I'm going to say.

Hehe.

Gossip fuel

RaarrrRRRRrrrrraaaarrrraaaaaaaa

Review: The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills

2011-11-03T14:25:00.000+11:00

OK so because I've finished uni for the year, I've been indulging in some guilt-free reality trash viewing while Little Miss has her afternoon nap on my days off from work. I haven't been shy in discussing my obsession with this mind-numbing genre of television and my latest discovery takes the cake (yes, even over My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding); The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

I know the "Real Housewives" phenomenon isn't new and I have seen several of the MANY versions of the show (New Jersey, New York, Chicago, OC etc), but the Beverly Hills version of the show is truly mind boggling. The sheer amount of money these people have and just the way they act leaves me with a permanent 'WTF?!' look of disbelief etched into my face.

I've only seen up to episode six of the first season but DAMN.

WOW.

*Jaw hits ground*

My favourite quotes include:

"I was a child actor, I've always had trouble making friends because of that." (Repeat: Every episode)
"There are a LOT of 20-somethings in this town, I HAVE to get work done to keep my husband."
"I'm just so stressed out! Even with my House Manager and four nannies, I have like, 30% more stress going on."
"I don't drink." Next episode: "TEQUILA SHOTS!"

I could go on for hours. Seriously. I actually feel a little queezy watching it but for some reason I can't peel my eyes away from the screen.

I don't mind two of the women, Lisa and Adrienne are fairly sensible but Paris Hilton's aunt Kim seriously freaks me out, she looks like a sad scarecrow.

Check it out:

I'm all for doing to your body what you will, it's your body, your choice, but this show has reaffirmed MY choice to never, ever, get elective plastic surgery on my face. I don't want to look like a scary clown when I hit 50.

Gastro: the virus that stops the party

2011-11-01T13:16:00.003+11:00

Le sigh.

Today I am meant to be at Kristy's Melbourne Cup soiree, but instead, I am sitting on the couch at home watching the coverage of the Cup on TV while wearing my head piece, trackies and sipping gastrolyte (from a wine glass of course). Sienna is having her nap so I am reeeeeeeelaxing.

The drink of champions.

Bronzer and Instagram: Making sick people look alive.

For the past few days, Peter Parker's parents, aunty, Peter Parker and I have been hugging our respective bowls. Lurrrrvly.

At least I will be 110% for Emirates Stakes Day this Saturday! YESSSSSSSSS. Got my dress, still need to get something for my head. Planning...eeeeh! I'm excited.

UPDATE: My neighbour just sent me a text. Looks like we are popping next door after nap time for the Cup! I knew I wouldn't end up doing nothing today...

Buckets and jockeys

2011-10-30T08:33:00.000+11:00

I feel like I need to post the following two photos because they are highlarious.

I kid you not, she put this on and proceeded to run around the garden yelling "HAT! HAT! HAT!"

At work yesterday, Bernie (who wasn't forced by Catherine and I
to wear this ensemble),got into the Derby Day spirit.

Warning: extremely massive announcement below!

2011-10-29T22:16:00.000+11:00

So if you are a long time reader of my wee blog, you may know that my excellent friend Catherine is responsible for Sienna. Yes. Catherine, my first Melbourne friend, introduced me to Peter Parker with whom I had our darling daughter.

Anyways.

Around a year ago I introduced Catherine to the eldest of my four brothers, Joe.

Even though they attempted (poorly) to hide their budding relationship from everyone, we all knew something was UP. If there is anyone I'd like to see either of them with, it's each other. Honestly.

So I'll let you use your imagination but WHAM BAM THANK YOU MAME and it's official....

I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNTY!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do you know what the best part is? Nephew/niece is due two days after when S was due last year. Meaning, there is a possibility they could share a birthday!

AND.

AND AND AND.

This is exciting but not probable but cool to think about, if Catherine and Joe get married before Peter Parker and I....wait for it...WE WILL HAVE THE SAME NAME (except I'm Katherine with a K and she is Catherine with a C).

WEIRD! AWESOME!

So in light of this extremely exciting news, I have used my Saturday-night-in free time and red wine induced creativity to create the following slideshow (turn the volume UP!):

Apologies

2011-10-27T23:23:00.003+11:00

Sorry peeps. I'm trying to suss a new layout but I'm failing badly at it.

I've lost my header for some reason sooo if anyone has any helpful ideas, please get at me!

Spanks x

Oh it's on.

2011-10-25T20:51:00.001+11:00

So.

Every Thursday I finish work at 4pm and then catch the train home.

Every Thursday I see the same peeps on the train. One said peep is this guy with brown hair and an inclination for casual clothing. He also rides in one of those super high tech wheelchairs.

Anyways.

Our train arrives at the station where we both get off at the same time every Thursday. I hop off and begin the short walk home. The train driver hops off, pulls out a metal ramp which allows the wheelchair bound gentleman to alight from the train with ease.

For those of you familiar with my walking technique, you'll know it's fairly brisk.

The guy in the chair follows the same route home as me. I'm fairly sure he lives on my street, but a few houses further down.

Every week it's a race. I walk as fast as I can without breaking into a run, just to see if I can reach my drive way before I hear the electric whir of the wheelchair behind me.

BBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

Guy: "Excuse me young lady!"
Me: "Oh! Hello!"

*Steps aside politely*

Me: "You win again, wheelchair bandit."

Every week it's the same. Every week I try and walk a little faster.

Bring it on, guy.

Oh it's already been ba-rought, right K-Dun?

Mother vs Toddler

2011-10-20T18:11:00.000+11:00

Disclaimer: I love my child more than anything in the whole entire world.

Note to self. Kill the person who taught Little Madame this:


I don't know who 'Lil Mama' is, but I gather she is the voice of the young people.

Anways. As far as I can remember it wasn't me, and Peter Parker claims it wasn't him. For the purpose of this post, we will avoid placing blame on anyone.

It also appears that as well as having the skillz of a professional mimic/parrot, S has developed a bad-ass attitude, as is illustrated in the scenarios below.

Me: "Sienna please do not throw your dinner on the floor."
S: "Ssshh!"
Me: "Excuse me?"
S: "Shh! Hehe."

Breath in. Breath out.

Me: "Sienna please do not drop that expensive object into the fish tank coffee table."
S: "Sssh! Hehe."

Blink.

S: "WAAAAAAAAAAAH!! EAT! EAT! MORE! MORE!
Me: "Are you ready for dinner?"
S: "YES!"
Me: "Will you eat this pasta?"
*shows pasta*
S: "YES! MORE!"
Me: "OK."
*Put pasta in bowl, and give to S."
S: "NOOOOOO NO NO NO NO!!!"
Me: "No? You said you were hungry?"
S: "Ssshh!"

Grrrrr.

Me: "Sienna please do not play with the recycling. Beer bottles are not for kids."
S: "MmmMMMMmmm. Tasty!"
Me: "Really?"
S: "Sssh."
Me: "..."
S: "Hehe."

You win again devil child.

Boo technology!

2011-10-18T15:54:00.000+11:00

Our laptop has DIED.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Just when I was starting to get back into blogging our laptop decided to give up on life and is now sitting at the computer repair man's office waiting to be revived.

Said revival is expected to take up to 14 days.

Agghhhhh.

I'm using Catherine's laptop at the moment to finish off my last two assignments. What a good friend.

It's official, I finished uni for the year today. No more classes until next MARCH!!

Just two more pesky assignments to do and I'm done, son.

Catch you guyses on the flip side. Unless I become a desperado and blog from my iPhone. Or unless the computer repair guy raises our laptop from the dead sooner than expected.

Until then, get at me on Twitter: @KatePiasecka

Clip clop clip clop

2011-10-17T14:24:00.001+11:00

Ah yes. The sound of well heeled women and horses.

The Melbourne Spring Racing Carnival is well and truly upon us! This is my absolute favourite time of the year.

I love the smell of the track, the fashion, the glamour, the atmosphere and the beautiful horses.

On Saturday I worked at the BMW Caulfield Cup at the Fashion and Entertainment stage. Best. Job. Ever. My job was to register all of the entrants for the Chadstone Fashion Stakes (fashions on the field) and then help out with collecting the judge's score cards amongst various other things.

I met so many amazing people like Peter Jago who is an extremely talented milliner, the famously flamboyant designer Alannah Hill (who, by the way was very lovely to me!) and Jan Breen-Burns who is the fashion editor of The Age. I nearly died when she told me she loved my outfit and then compared it to something from a Prada collection a few seasons ago (I pretended I knew what she was on about, stay cool Kate, stay cool).


Showing off my sweet as Access All Areas pass with serial killer mug shot before heading off to the track.

Hayley and I taking up prime people-watching real estate. Got our lanyards on, we are pro-fesh.

Once again I have my excellent friend Kristy from In Season Vintage Clothing to thank for my gorgeous frock. If it wasn't for Kristy I swear I'd go to the races butt naked and we all know it's not cool to show too much skin track side. I love you Kristy!!

The Fashion and Entertainment Stage pre-fashion and entertainment.

The lovely ladies from Heat Three (of Five).

Jacqui and I putting our best elbows forward.

This is where we watched the actual cup being run. I could feel the horses running.

The uber-stylish Annaliese Cordell takes out the Chadstone Fashion Stakes.

The track at 6.30pm. The closest I got to a horse all day! Worth it.

Anyways, after a looooong day of people-creeping (the registration desk was the ULTIMATE people watching spot), hobbling about on heels and praying for the rain to hold off (it did- yay!), we made our way to the Pegasus Marquee for a free drink and then headed out to the after party which was held at the Albert Park Hotel. Pretty swish! I stayed for a drink and then decided I was pooped and headed home to watch the end of The Wedding Singer in my pajamas.

OH and one last thing- read THIS! During the first heat of the day, a very brave guy popped up on stage and proposed to his girlfriend in front of the entire crowd! I love an extravagant proposal. Weddings and Horse Racing. What more could I ask for?

Well done K+B!

2011-10-10T12:45:00.000+11:00

Steph aka Pricey, Sarah aka Sweeney and Me, aka Myself.

You could tell the bride's a teacher!

Boyz 'n' da hood.

The b-e-a-utiful couple and wedding party.

Peter Parker and I.

Kirby makes her grand entrance, looking stuuuunning.

So Kirby and B-Money aka B-Married were wed on Friday out at All Saints in Rutherglen. It was the most beautiful and hiiiighlarious wedding I've ever been to. I love me a good wedding. Or any wedding. Or wedding movie. Or wedding related television show. Or wedding magazine.

Anyways.

Congratulations to the gorgeous couple! May you live out the rest of your days in marital bliss.

PS. Thank you to Kristy from In Season Vintage Clothing for the lovely dress, I also wore it to the Caulfield Cup Carnival Gala Launch because I'm like Kate Middleton, wearing an outfit more than once is what I'm about.

For The Love of a Child

2011-10-09T14:44:00.001+11:00

Have a peep at my updated "Check it!" tab.

Samantha Deavin writes for ActionAid Australia and has guest posted for me about how you can sponsor a child born into poverty. Let's get generous!

Dear Big Sexy,

2011-10-09T13:51:00.002+11:00

I hope this public expression of affection and nostalgia finds you well. In two days you are saying farewell to your friends and family here in Melbourne and jet-setting off to the South Pacific after signing a two year contract with an international accounting firm, proving accurate that TV ad about how becoming an accountant will lead you to live a fast paced and exotic lifestyle.

I'd like to use this post to thank you for being such an excellent friend since the night we met in early 2009, where you, Catherine and I went out after work and got completely shit faced thanks to $5 margaritas and $2 shots at If Bar on Queens St in the city. You let Catherine and I use your credit card to get home that night and I can honestly say that if you hadn't, I'd probably still be living in the gutter outside of CQ (yes, CQ).

So go forth, my friend, and live the accountant-in-the-south-pacific dream! I expect you to follow in the footsteps of those who have gone before you, namely Bogga and Marc, and return to our fair shores in 2013 with a girlfriend, wife and/or baby.

I'll miss your big, big hugs.

Boohoo, I'm a sook :(

Be a good boy.

Love,

Kate xxx

Big Sexy and I at MCM2010. Good awkward lean, me.

Honey, I'm hoOOOoooome!

2011-10-05T14:37:00.000+11:00

Hi. It's me, Kate Piasecka, the author of this blog. You may remember me but I can't blame you if you don't. It's been three weeks since my last post so herewith my sins, categorised for your enjoyment and my obsessive compulsive need for formatting:

1. Sienna

S being humorous.

My darling child has decided that now she can walk, it's time to start talking. She proudly reads aloud her one-word-per-page books, "Hat! Apple! Fish! Chair!". Other favourites include "No" (in a highlarious accent similar to Melanie B from the Spice Girls), "More" (always more!), "Bye bye", "Night night", "Doggy", "Octopus" (believe it or not! She says "Octococtopuspus"), "Yes", "Eat", "Nose" and "Finished". What a clever monkey. She may look like her father, but she is an insane chatterbox like her mother.

2. Gold Coast Holiday

Little S enjoying the mirror in our hotel room. "Who's your friend in the mirror, S?" Classic.

Peter Parker getting annoyed at me for being a paparazzi.

S LOVES sand. We need a sandpit.

Peter Parker unaware of my papping.

Lurking around the surf life savers.

I've already looked into enrolling S in Little Nippers. Get excited.

S lazing on the sunbeds in the shade at the hotel. Remember darling, the only good tan is a fake tan.

S reading PP her numbers book. "Two! Two! Two!" Bed hog.

S and I enjoying the blue skies.

The view from our hotel room if I stuck my arm out over the edge of the balcony.

Goodbye sunny Queensland.

Hello stormy Melbourne/massive backlog of flights/baggage handler strike.

Last week we were lucky enough to fly to the Gold Coast and spend seven gloooorious days doing a lot of nothing. Peter Parker had to attend a conference with two of his colleagues for three of the days we were up there so there was a small posse of us all in the same hotel with three kids under three between six adults. Holidays with children aren't much like holidays without, but they are still a lot of fun, especially when you go in a group. Without sounding like a complete alcoholic, I recon I enjoyed more wine on this trip than I did on schoolies. What a loose unit.

3. University
YESSSSSSSSS!!! Only three more weeks and three more assignments to finish for this YEAR!!! That's gone quickly, but then again it's only October and we all know that uni students have the most ridiculously long holidays. I don't go back until MARCH. What kind of a job gives you over four months holiday every year? Unemployment. That's what. University- preparing students for the real world. Living the dream, baby.

4. Work.
My job in PR is bzz bzz busy. I'm back in the office tomorrow, ready to help out. I was involved in a little something yesterday with Peter Parker buuuut I think maybe I'll leave the details of that until the weekend. I'm working on Caulfield Cup day on the 14th of this month so if you are thinking of entering the Chadstone Fashion Stakes then you'll get to see my shiny face at the registration desk. Ahh the races. My favourite time of the year.

5. Various
Aside from horse racing, my other ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE activity is going to my friend's WEDDINGS!!!!!! Eeeeh!!!!! Kirby and Brendan are getting married on Friday out in Wangaratta so off we trot to the country to celebrate their nuptials. Little Madame is having a sleep over at her Nan and Pop's house so Peter Parker and I can enjoy some parental party time. WOOOP!!!!

What's up!

2011-10-03T19:46:00.000+11:00

I'm alive.

I can feel the creative juices flowing through my veins.

Buuuut I can't blog anything substantial right now because I'm watching a lecture online.

I'm an awesome student.

..

Wombat Stew

2011-09-16T22:08:00.002+10:00

I've heard that if I just start writing my writer's block will become a writer's unblock.

Holy Moses this can't go on for much longer!!

This time next week I will have just landed in the Gold Coast. Yes. Peter Parker, S and I are going to the GOLD COAST for a whoooole week!!! Weehoo!!!

I really need this holiday. No work. No uni. Just beach and sun for seven days.

Gold Coast, I am leaving it up to you to fill my mind with new and highlarious musings to share with those who prefer to lurk my blog over doing their job or completing their assignments or cleaning their house or doing something productive while their child sleeps or just anything productive at all.

Vitamin D. Work your magic.

I didn't shave my legs for the first time in months tonight for nothing you know.

Smooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooth.

"Mum. I am sick of hearing about your writer's block so
I'm going to sit here in my mouse ears, puppy mittens
and oversized heart shaped sunnies and give you my new
unimpressed teen-esque glare."

Give peace a chance

2011-09-11T09:09:00.000+10:00

So it's been ten years since the horror and sickening tragedy of September 11, 2001.

If we are being specific, this evening will be exactly a decade.

Back in 2001 I was a 15 year old year 10 student. On the night of September 11 I remember lying in bed being a super cool teenager listening to the Top 40 on the radio when suddenly the DJ announced that "planes are flying into buildings in New York! It's crazy! Go and turn on your TV."

I don't know if it was because I thought I was dreaming it but I turned off the radio and went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up for school and found my family surrounding the television which was playing the footage we have all been constantly bombarded with since that awful day.

We didn't do any work at school for the next week. Our teachers literally let us sit in front of the TV's in our classrooms and watch the same images of planes and burning buildings and screaming New Yorkers over and over and over again.

I think we owe it to the 2977 victims of September 11 to re-educate ourselves and in doing so, not allow terrorism to take over. What happened on that day was the work of a small group of extremists, it was an act that does not accurately reflect the beliefs of the Islamic faith- the vast majority of Muslims do not condone the terror attacks.

The terrorists want us to be afraid. They want us to think that every Muslim is a terrorist. That's the point of terrorism; to terrorise us.

Don't buy into it, don't let the 2977 innocent people who died that day, die in vain.

Don't let the terrorists win. Give peace a chance.

Oh hi. Whadaya know.

2011-09-09T21:48:00.003+10:00

Sweet hat, me. Now you see where S gets it from.

It's Friday night and I'm maxing out on the couch in my sexy track pants, downing a glass of red after stuffing my face full of fish and chips. Living the dream, baby. Peter Parker has just gone out to watch the footy at a friend's place down the street so naturally, I have put on The September Issue for the 38th time this week. As you can tell from my photo, I need all the fashion advice I can get.

I'm currently experiencing the mid semester blaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Off it. Sick of assignments. Six weeks to go until SUMMER BREAK! w00t w00t! (Yeah I did).

I've reached that stage where I'm all like, maybe-I-should-cut-my-hair about things. You know when you sort of get into a rut and think you need to change something, drastically? I'm there. I need someone to come and look at my face and tell me what hair style and colour would suit me because I have no clue. A fringe perhaps? Get at me, stylish people. Please!

I'm in a blogging rut too. I'm exhausting my creativity at work and uni and my poor blog is suffering. Sorry, blog. Perhaps I'll give you a make over.

*sips wine*

Heh heh heh.

It's official- I'm obsessed with magazine reality shows

2011-09-06T15:00:00.002+10:00

So it's Tuesday afternoon. This is usually when I get home from uni and spend the afternoon on the couch in my trackies doing assignments.

Actually let's not kid ourselves, I spend most of my Tuesday afternoons blogging, lurking other blogs and catching up on my favourite TV shows until Peter Parker and S get home at about 6ish. I feel like life owes me these five hours a week to do whatever I want. Thank you, life.

Right now I'm watching The September Issue, the documentary on US Vogue. For the third time. In two days. You can see the similarities between what really happens in the US Vogue office and in the book/film The Devil Wears Prada. I think Meryl Streep's character Miranda Priestly is an exact mix of Anna Wintour and Grace Coddington. Obsessed. Seriously OBSESSED.

I am LOVING all of these documentaries, series and docudramas on magazines. I've blogged previously about Paper Giants and I spent hours obsessing over Marie Claire: Under The Cover.

Oh while I'm on the topic of magazines, here's an interesting story. Last week I sent an email to Editor-in-Chief of Marie Claire and Australian fashion legend, Jackie Frank, and addressed it "Dear Jacqui,".

JACQUI.

I spelled Jackie Frank's name incorrectly. Within seconds of clicking the 'send' button I realised what I had done, died a short death, revived myself and immediately sent an apologetic email.

Jackie's response: "No problem!"

I'm sorry Jackie. I blushed so hard and suffered from heart palpitations for a solid 20 minutes.

Anyways. I think I have recovered from this unfortunate incident and I reee-heeally hope that Jackie never ever remembers it if I am ever fortunate enough to meet her. Kate Piasecka? Who's that? I'm Kate errr Giasecka.

OK I'm over it. Promise.

..

BEHOLD! The women who I admire the most:

Ita Buttrose, original Editor-in-Chief of Cleo.

Anna Wintour, Editor-in-Chief of US Vogue since 1988.

Jackie Frank, not Jacqui Frank.
Editor-in-Chief of Marie Claire.

One thing I love is that all of these incredible women are mums. Mums rule.

Oh check it, another walking vid.

2011-09-06T14:21:00.000+10:00

I make no apologies, she is the (styling) apple of my eye.

Boo, YouTube

2011-09-03T12:54:00.002+10:00

So I don't know if anyone noticed but I had to remove the crappy iPhone movie I shot of the Fruche Mob held on Thursday morning at Flinders Street Station because YouTube sent me an email less than 24 hours after I uploaded my video that read (basically) the following:

Dear Kate,

Hi. It's YouTube speaking. Anyways so we noticed that you uploaded a video you shot on your iPhone yesterday and can we just say, wowzer, the chicks in your office must have worked SO hard because that Fruche Fash Mob you captured with such skill and steady hand was AH-MAH-ZANG grrrrrrl.

Anywho we LOVED it and you don't have to take any immediate action but maybe you might like to read this little document about music ownership and copyright law that we have attached. It's no biggy but just so we don't get sued for hosting your video, we've now implicated you, an innocent citizen with no desire to make any money from the publishing of your saweet video which contains background music from the actual event (not music you have edited in yourself) because we have provided you with said information.

Have a fab-o day!

Lotsa love,

YouTube.

x

Now I feel like a badass criminal.

Anyways, check out THIS video which was shot by professionals on the day.

You liked my crappy iPhone video, didn't you Miss J?
Yeah you did.

This is why I haven't been blogging!

2011-09-01T15:04:00.003+10:00

Last night I worked at the Gala Launch of the BMW Caulfield Cup Carnival. I was one of the door bitches slash occasional photographer assistant. I had an awesome night with the girls from work, met heaps of cool media peeps and ended up rolling into bed after midnight.

I can't WAIT for the races to begin!

Behold! Crappy iPhone photos from last night:

Moi in my lovely dress from Kristy at In Season Vintage.

Sweet photo skills, guy behind the bar!

Myself, Hayley, Jacqui and Ally- part of the Style Counsel crew.

Me, being bombarded by paps. (Not really)

The night was amazing! The Caulfield Classic Style entries were paraded and the Face of Caulfield was announced. Congratulations to Bree Laughlin who took out this year's title.

Behold! A professional and impressive photo of Bree:

B-e-a-utiful! (Actually being bombarded by paps)

Highlight: I met J Alexander aka "Miss J" from America's Next Top Model. Yes, I was star struck.

And that, peeps, is why I have not been blogging this week. I am a busy, busy bee!

Pro-fesh

2011-08-30T12:28:00.000+10:00

I've started a blog which will contain allllll of my journalism/media work.

If you like, have a squiz.

http://katelpiasecka.wordpress.com/

There isn't much to it yet, but I'm getting there!

If I had a dollar..

2011-08-26T21:39:00.000+10:00

I can't believe it's been almost a WEEK since I blogged. I'm feeling good tonight because this week I submitted FOUR assignments and experienced the most hectic two days at work EVER (massive week next week!). Now I'm settled on the couch with a glass of white and while Peter Parker watches the footy, it's time to get down to bizniz.

I thought I would attempt to start a StMurphy-esque post.

If I Had a Dollar For Everytime Someone Asked Me...

1. Pia-what? I'm sorry, can you spell your last name?
P-I-A-S-E-C-K-A. It's Polish and it's pronounced Pee-ah-set-ska. You would not BELIEVE the typos I've seen. Piseka. Peasekra. Piseki. I love my surname. Even if the rest of the world struggles with it.

2. Is she YOURS? How OLD are you?
A guy came up to me the other day, and I kid you not, said "How old were you when you had her? 12?"
Really? TWELVE? Come on mate.

3. You are one of SIX? Your parents are Catholic aren't they.
Yes, they are Catholic.

4. Was she planned?
No. I got knocked up three weeks after meeting my boyfriend because we were drunk and irresponsible. Cue awkward pause. The best comeback is brutal honesty.

5. Is Peter Parker Peter Parker's real name?
I wish! It's Matt Parker.

6. What do you blog about?
I mostly just talk shit but sometimes I write about being a young mum.

7. Oh my god are you that really famous rapper PPL Cool K?
Not really. But that would be awesome.

....I'd be a fucking billionaire.

I google imaged "Super Rich Person" and this image popped up.
Awesome.

Spring has sprung early!

2011-08-20T21:47:00.000+10:00

According to the weather application on my iPhone, it's going to be sunny and 19 degrees until Thursday in Melbourne. Hooray!

S spent the day basking in the sunshine with her latest accessory of choice: the sunnies we bought her in Byron Bay last year.

If there is anyone on this planet cooler (and more modest) than I, it's my offspring.

Off to the shops? Sunnies on.

Hangin' in the garden? Sunnies on.

Lurking in the toilet? Sunnies on.

Note to self: Remember to shut toilet door.

Lucky

2011-08-19T13:34:00.000+10:00

Mate.

You are so lucky I just ate the most delicious and mood elevating MSG coated Chinese take away ever. Ten minutes ago I was ready to bite someone's face off because

a) There is something going on with one of my wisdom teeth, causing me much grief,
b) I'm pre-menstrual so I'm currently 1000 times more hormonal than all the pregnant chicks I know combined and
c) Poor Little Miss woke up at 11.30PM last night and proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach all over her room and the laundry so today I am worrying about her while I'm at work.

But I'm cool now.

The lady in the Chinese food shop gave me a free cup of sweet corn soup.

Thanks lady.

Thank fuck it's Friday.

Now that's what I call value for money!

2011-08-17T19:37:00.000+10:00

This morning I spent $19.95 and I reckon it's the best $19.95 I've ever spent.

Little Miss has this thing with sitting on chairs. Not couches, not her highchair, just regular chairs. Strange child. No wonder she didn't walk until now!

Anyways.

I went to Toys 'R' Us and bought her a little table with two little chairs (bargain!). She has literally spend the entire afternoon sitting.

Proof:

1PM: First try. Good.

2PM: Eating a snack at the new table.

4PM: Pretending to draw but actually throwing the crayons around. (No pants?)

620PM: Just had dinner and a bath, no time for pajamas.

650PM: One last sit at the table before going to sleep.

When I was a kid I used to collect toilet roll tubes and then when I had HEAPS of them I would join them all together and make an awesome SUPER LONG TUBE. Then I would hoard it for a few days and then throw it out.

I suppose we all have our oddities. Admittedly some more than others. Ahem.

Dear Sasa (that's what you call yourself),

2011-08-17T14:16:00.000+10:00

It's me, your mother, speaking. I just wanted to write you a quick letter to express my supreme happiness and relief towards the fact that at 15 months old you have started to walk. I can feel the giant knots in my back slowly beginning to relax.

When you were four weeks old I read a poster at our local maternal and child health care center that listed the 'normal' age for the BIG STEPS (ie, rolling, sitting up, crawling, scooting, walking etc) and was conned into believing that you would be trotting about confidently by the time you turned one.

You probably won't remember this, but I took you to uni today with me to drop off some recording equipment I had out on loan. We stopped in at the art exhibition on the way out of campus where I responsibly allowed you to roam free amongst the piles of pineapple and pot plants and audio visual equipment.

Blinded by my delight at your newest ability, I almost let you trash some poor art student's interesting creation.

Woops.

If you ever have kids, maybe don't do that.

Anyways. I love the way you totter about, you look like a small person now, not a baby.

Feel free to stay this age forever. You don't have to grow up!

Love,

Mummy xx

These boots were made for walking!

Get involved with the 2012 Melbourne City Masquerade

2011-08-16T14:07:00.000+10:00

I'm so pooped after Saturday night. The 2011 MCM was FUCKING AWESOME. I danced all night and drank glass after glass of delicious vino and then being the responsible and mature parent that I am, was tucked into bed by 2am.

This year 620 people attended the black tie event at The Forum and I think it's very safe to say, it went OFF.

The musical line up included the amazing funk/cover group, All Day Breakfast, and DJ extraordinaires, Naysayer and Gilsun.

We are currently looking for volunteers for next years event, if you have events/marketing/PR experience and are prepared to devote some of your time to help find a cure for cancer, then check out featherfoundation.org.au and have a squiz at the saweeet video I made:

I need sleep, water and more Maccas.

2011-08-14T14:48:00.000+10:00

Crappy iPhone photos: Round 1, the morning after edition.

Last night RULED.

Because Steven Murphy told me to.

2011-08-12T22:08:00.002+10:00

Earlier this week I was bequeathed the task of writing a post called "10 Things You Wish You Didn't Know About Me" by the divine StMurphy. What better time to write said blog than now, while I am marinating in fake tan and pretending to enjoy the Collingwood v St Kilda game with my handsome and intelligent boyfriend, Peter Parker.

1. When I was a kid, I used to dream about stabbing babies.

Yes. You read correctly. I dreamed the same dream for YEARS about stabbing giant babies. And now I am a mother. Read into THAT what you will!

2. I got my first period on a Girl Guide camp.

I was 12 and we were in the bush AND for some reason, I thought your period only lasted one day. As in, you bled once and that was it. Boy was I shocked when it just kept on flowing. "Ummm, does anyone have a pad?" Gross.

3. When I hear a song I like, I day dream about ice skating to it.

I have done this for as long as I can remember. I just sort of drift off and imagine I am an AMAZZIIING ice skater who wears totes awesome costumes and can leap so high and spin around and around and zoooom around the rink at lightning speed. I also dream about being a ballet dancer and a super awesome wikkud catwalk model, but the ice skater is my fave.

This doesn't happen to me in my imaginary skating world.

4. When I was pregnant I could quickly tell if chicken was processed or not.

Good.

You asked for it! This one's a beauty. When I was pregnant I could tell within five minutes if chicken was processed or not by how quickly it errrr came out the other end. Chicken from Red Rooster IS processed. So were the chicken balls at Trent and Lauren's engagement party. Most notably, chicken from McDonald's actually IS fresh, even the nuggets, just like they imply in their ads. You have no idea how many times I had to bolt for it.

5. I've only ever taken drugs once.

I was 18 and the housemate of the guy I was dating at the time made a batch of mull cookies. I ate two. An hour later I thought I was a game show host. Highlarious! Later that evening I thought someone was choking me and the following day at work I could see insects all over the store I was working in. Since this day, wine has been my drug of choice.

6. I tell Peter Parker that girls can't fart, but secretly fart when he can't hear.
I once farted on him when I was half asleep, then when I asked if he heard it, he lied and said he did and has held it against me ever since.

This is where I learned about the
birds and the bees.

7. When I was 10 years old I looked up the word "sex" in the dictionary.

I grew up in a very strict, catholic family so of course at the tender age of 10 I had NO idea what sex was, so when I heard my friends talking about it I pretended I knew what they were on about and later did a little research. "Ew!"

8. At age six I put perfume on my friend's vagina during a game of "doctor and patient".

Sorry Rachel. I was only trying to cure you of whatever illness my six year old brain thought you had.

9. My friend Erin and I buried a time capsule at my parents' house when we were eleven and planned to open it at the ripe old age of 21.

Turns out 21 isn't that old. Neither of us had finished uni, gotten married and had two kids like we had planned. The time capsule is still buried under the pool deck, wrapped in 25 layers of plastic bags and duck tape. Genius. The best part is we stole a pair of my little sisters undies so that we could compare 90's material to FUTURE MATERIAL. We made sure to rip the undies so our future selves wouldn't get busted by our future parents for burying good undies. Well done 90's us.

10. I think I'm so funny.

I honestly do. I always laugh at my own jokes and at all the shit I talk and the stupid things I do. I'm so cool.

As far as I can tell it don't get better than this!

2011-08-09T14:26:00.000+10:00

Fuck yeah! My ulcers are nearly gone and I can feel myself starting to relax. This morning I had to present an analysis of a piece of philosophy that went straight over my head, even after reading it a zillion times, getting mum and PP to help me AND googling every second word. I walked into class, fearing the I-finished-highschool-last-year-and-aced-all-of-my-politics-and-history-classes-so-I-really-GET-this-shit stares and questions.

Turns out no one understood the text. Like, at all.

Awesome.

So awesome.

Sooo, no questions? Excellent, because I can guarantee you, I would not be able to give you an answer.

Anyways, now that debarkle is over I can focus on what the haaaaal I am going to do about a mask for Saturday night. I am soo excited! I wonder if my alter ego will come out to play? When I have a few wines I become an amazingly talented rapper. It happened for the first time a couple of months ago and then she resurfaced on Friday night after downing a bottle of white (woops) at my brother's last hoorah. I vaguely remember rapping "Butterfly" by Crazy Town.

I like to call her PPLcoolK.

Get it?

Ever heard of a small time (ha!) rapper slash NCIS: LA actor by the name of LL Cool J?? Yeah? Well for those of you who don't know, here's an interesting fact. LL Cool J = "Ladies Love Cool James"

PPLcoolK = "Peter Parker Loves Cool Kate"

BOOM!

Yeah I did!

Watch out Melbourne City Masquerade attendees- you are in for one hell of a treat come 11pm!

No YOU ssh, LL Cool J, it's my time to shine!

"Hot dawwwwgs get ya hot dawwwwgs!"

2011-08-09T13:51:00.001+10:00

Peter Parker's brother Andy and his wife Lauren are currently driving across the Uuuuinted States of Americaawww and keeping a travel blog. If you have ever been interested in doing this trip, you should have a read! Loz is extremely honest and informative. Check it!

Andy & Loz in America

WOOPPEEEEE I'M PUBLISHED!!

2011-08-08T16:39:00.000+10:00

Today my first ever not-for-a-uni-assignment article was published on thespectrum.com.au.

Yesssssssssssssssssss.

It's called 'Um, what's a blog?'

Check it. (Please!)

5 sleeps until the Melbourne City Masquerade!

2011-08-08T11:35:00.000+10:00

Click HERE to snap up the few remaining tickets. It's going to the an excellent night because:

a) All money raised from ticket sales go directly to Cancer Council Victoria

b) Drinks and food are included in your ticket price so you can drink until you get cut off

c) There are two amazing and uber famous DJs playing sweet tunes all night plus a funk band PLUS an orchestra wooOOOoooo fancy!

d) My super great promotional video will be premiered wooOOOoooo exciting! (Can you call it a premiere if it's only three minutes long? I'm going to go with yes) AND

e) You get to party with all of the coolest peeps in Melbourne all-night-long, all-niiiight!

So buy BUY BUY!!!

Repent! The End is Nigh!

2011-08-07T08:56:00.001+10:00

I painted this statement on a sandwich board and wore it to 'muck up day' (ie. the last day of high school) when I was 17. Why would I dress up as a fairy or a nurse like all the other girls when I could just as easily dress up as a wild haired and dirt ridden Christian extremist?

Anyway, that's a story for another day.

In this case, the title of this post refers to the end of my stressful week. For the most part.

My brother Joe has up and left for our dear home town of Perth where he will commence Royal Australian Navy submariner training after living in Melbourne for over a year. He will be living there for two years. Tear. Stress about crying (or more accurately, drunkenly bawling my eyes out) when he leaves? Over. Safe travels little bro.

Conducting final interview, writing, editing and submitting my official article on the Nuffnang Blogopolis to Spectrum? Done. It should be published tomorrow. Yesssss.

Shooting and editing the promotional video for the Feather Foundation? Doooone done done done YESSSS!! Will upload as soon as I get the OK from the boss man.

Uni assignment due Tuesday? Hmmm it's a work in progress but getting there. I have to read a text, analyze it and present my findings to the class. The text I chose may as well have been written in Spanish (I don't speak Spanish). Thank you to Peter Parker and my mum for reading it and trying to explain it to me. Brain does not compute academic writing.

The best part of my week however, was Thursday evening. I got home from work to find a guilty looking Catherine waiting for me with S.

Catherine: "Ummm I have something to tell you."
Me: "What? What! Oh my god. She walked, didn't she?"
Catherine: "She took eight steps."
Me: "OH MY GOD."

Not upset. If anyone was to witness Sienna's first real attempt at walking after SIX MONTHS of scooting around the furniture, I'm happy it was Catherine aka the girl who introduced me to Peter Parker.

That night, as well as attempting more steps, my Little Madame decided she could spoon-feed herself. YESSSS!!!!!

BEHOLD MY CLEVER AND SUPERIOR CHILD:

Proud mummy moment!!!

No can doozey, babydoll!

2011-08-03T14:54:00.000+10:00

I woke up yesterday to discover three huge and painful ulcers in my mouth.

Yes, I brush my teeth regularly.

This can only mean one thing. I am stressed out, man.

My stress has always manifested physically, usually in the form of ulcers or weight loss.

So apparently working two part time jobs (in a pub and in PR), studying part time at uni, being a mum, a girlfriend, maintaining a blog, doing ad-hoc contributing to various publications and other media related work is taking it's toll on me.

Before I have a massive psychological break down I am TAKING CONTROL OF MY SHIT.

Must. Learn. To. Say. No. (To myself).

Aaaand breath.

I blame my enthusiasm to do EVERYTHING on the fact that I'm Gen Y and a mother and therefore I am out to prove I can do ANYTHIIIING and be a SUUUUPER MUM.

Thank you, disgusting ulcers, for pulling me back down to earth.

Josh Thomas, copping all criticism on behalf of Australia's Gen Y.
Thank you, Josh Thomas.

What happens to you when you stress?

Happy 17th birthday, 5 of 6.

2011-08-01T12:11:00.000+10:00

Today is my second youngest sibling Mark's 17th birthday. Mark, a very sweet young man, is probably the most stylish member of our family (sorry Patrick) and excels at music and drama. He recently paid for himself to go on a school trip to Canberra to go skiing. I don't think he was too impressed with Canberra, but then again, who is? Anyways, I hope you have a splendiferous birthday, second littlest bro. Enjoy it!

What's a blogger? No, seriously..

2011-08-01T11:59:00.001+10:00

I'm with you, Edenland, I'm a mummy/personal/whatever bllloooooogggeerrrr.

Who even knows? I just write.

Anywho.

My brain is officially fried after a weekend of meeting my blogging pals and Twitter peeps. It was one of the most unusual, educational and entertaining experiences of my life.

So on Friday night I went to the pre-Nuffnang Blogopolis drinks, hosted by Hello Blogger Events at Match Bar and Grill on Little Lonsdale in the city. I didn't know anyone, so armed with my fresh off the press business cards and poor navigational skills, I headed into town. Alarmingly, it took me about 25 minutes to walk the 200m from Melbourne Central train station to Match Bar because a) The blue dot on my google maps ap wasn't moving and b) there was a massive wall of angry protesters marching towards me so I cowered on a street corner and took photos of police ponies.

Neeiiigghhhh.

Once safely inside I used my magic line "Hi I'm Kate and I don't know ANYONE here!" to pick up a few new friends including Julia from Boredom Abounds, Cath from Leaf Journals, Stacey from Veggie Mama, Donna from Socially Sorted, Nikki from Styling You and the divine Lord Murphy from St Murphy who I managed to make even gayer with a story about breast pumps. Go me!

Anyways after three wines and a lot of barely audible chatter, I decided to head home via public transport. I jumped on a packed city loop train where two junkies sat opposite me and their giant farting bulldog passed out on my feet. After ten minutes of sympathetic looks from my fellow commuters I leaped enthusiastically from the stinky carriage and breathed in the sweet sweet air at Richmond train station. When I got home I blabbered drunkenly to Peter Parker about my night out and then went to sleep.

I'd like to say I woke up feeling fresh and excited for the Blogopolis on Saturday morning, however, this would be a lie. I felt seedy as shit because I'm a lightweight operating on minimal sleep. Anways I made it to Blogopolis just in time to buy the hugest coffee I have ever seen, sign in, pick up my name tag and head to table 38.

Skulling this coffee was a bad choice.

My table buddies were awesome! I sat between Alli from Motivating Mum and John from John Young Blog who was intimidated by the droves of chatty mothers in the room. We also had Rhi from Hummingbird's Song, Bryce from Bit of This by Bryce and Heather who works in PR. I also had the pleasure of meeting the HIGHLARIOUS SawHole (hehe) originally from my favourite ever blog, WoogsWorld, and now the master of her own domain, Madame Bipolar which is an amazingly honest blog about mental health.

We learned sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much stuff about the ins and outs of blogging, I honestly can't relay even 20% of it, but what I will say is this: blogging is relevant and blogs are now considered authoritative and competition to traditional media publications, namely magazines. Phoebe from Lady Melbourne pointed out that bloggers are valuable and that we need to recognise this and learn to put a price on what we do. Eden from Edenland wisely stated that bloggers need to stick together and enjoy each other's success.

You know what I enjoy? Straight up honestly and a good laugh, and that is what I got on Saturday. I had SUCH an excellent time.

St Murphy and I.
"I'm like Peter Pan! I'll never grow up!"

The GORGEOUS Nikki from Styling You and starstruck me.

I effing love bloggers!!

It's like the first day of school..

2011-07-28T20:20:00.000+10:00

I'm so nervous and excited.

Tomorrow night I am attending the pre-Blogopolis drinks at some bar in the city (probably should look that up) and then on Saturday at 9AM I will walk into my first ever blog conference/master class: the 2011 Nuffnang Blogopolis. It is SOLD OUT with almost 300 bloggers from all over the country flying in to attend the inaugural event.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH.

I feel like I'm meeting a bunch of celebrities because I read several of these people's blogs and I follow/tweet a lot of them on Twitter but I've never actually met ANY of them in real life!

Will I look like what they expect? Will I recognise any of them from their photos? Will our personalities match our blogs or are we just keyboard warriors?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

To add to my nerves, I am also interviewing the faaarrrbulous key note speaker Nikki Parkinson from Styling You for an article I am writing on the Blogopolis for Spectrum.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

I feel so profesh, I got some bizniz cards printed. Yes! Business cards for my blog. Who would have thunk it.

Anyways. I'm going to prepare my questions and check some addresses now.

Cheerio!

Are YOU going?

Fitness. It's what I'm about.

2011-07-28T20:02:00.000+10:00

So a few months ago I boasted about how I had (slowly) begun a fitness regime which included me attempting to run a couple of kilometres every evening. After flogging myself for a good couple of weeks, I gave up and blamed it on the fact that it was 'too dark' to continue on and suggested it was 'dangerous to undertake physical activities in dimly lit streets'. Because we live in the ghetto man.*

Anyways.

I have commenced a new fitness regime. I like to call it the TRAIN STATION DASH. I do this only twice a week but I honestly feel like it's improving my health. Honestly.

So on Thursday's I finish work at 4pm and on Friday's it's 5.30pm. For the purposes of this post, I will focus on Friday's.

5.20pm: Go to the toilet, no one likes needing to pee while they are sprinting.
5.25pm: Make sure bag is packed and coat is on.
5.26pm: Begin shutting down computer.
5:28pm: Announce I am leaving and begin briefly discussing weekend plans with colleagues.
5:30pm: Leave the office. Once my feet hit the pavement outside I sprint with the ease and agility of a gazelle.
5:34pm: Arrive at station in time to fall through the train doors.
5:35pm: Slow breathing down and try really hard to not pass out/suffer a heart attack.
5:38pm: Train arrives at Richmond station. Exit the train. Commence sprint once again, wowing the crowds with my herculean athleticism.
5:38:10pm Arrive on opposite platform and launch myself through the doors of the train heading in the opposite direction.
5:39pm: Ignore the white spots and focus on lowering my extremely audible, dog-like panting.
5:45pm: Relax and feel good about my superior fitness levels.

I'm not much a fan of hanging out in trainos waiting for my connecting train PLUS on Thursday's I have to relieve Catherine and Ailie who babysit S, and on Friday's I say no to dignity so that I can see Little Madame before she goes to sleep. Motivation! Fitness! Health! It's what I'm about!

Sometimes I wear a bikini and a black wig to work. What of it?**

*Not really. We live in probably the safest, most family friendly hood in Melbourne.
**Not actually me. It's just some hot woman I found when I googled "running woman".

I best be hitting the books..

2011-07-26T14:57:00.000+10:00

..but instead I am blogging. Tuesdays are uni days. I have classes from 9am-1pm and then I head home to be studious and do my readings and assignments before Little Miss and Peter Parker come home around 6ish.

Being the nerdball that I am, I volunteered to do the first tutorial presentation of the semester for my theory unit. I figured I may as well get it out of the way. I don't get why you would want to do it in week 10 when all of the hard and loooong assignments are due. No thank you!

Anyways this is my first week of studying and working THREE days a week instead of just two and the parental guilt has set in. S is in childcare Tuesdays and Fridays and because the waiting lists are so long at her centre, she is being looked after by my most excellent friends Ailie and Catherine on Thursdays (hooray for having friends who study and are good with kids!).

Although I am SO happy with how things are panning out for me, uni one day and work at an awesome job two days every week, I can't help but feel like I am abandoning S. I don't think about it when I'm actually in class or at work because I'm focusing on the task at hand, it's more when I DO have her with me that it upsets me. But on the other hand, I know I couldn't handle being at home seven days a week- I would want something more. I applaud SAHM's.

As Peter Parker often jokes, "Women, never bloody satisfied".

Crap. My tutor just emailed me to say we have to remember to do our readings for next week because he WILL be questioning us on the topics. Must. Focus. Brain.

What's your arrangement? Are you 100% happy with your work/life/family balance?

I think I might write a style blog.

2011-07-25T10:53:00.000+10:00

Hi. I'm Kate and this is my boyfriend Peter Parker and today we are going to discuss with you our Saturday morning fashions. As you can see from the photo below, we really know what's on trend this season.

Firstly it's important to note our choice of colour palate. We've gone for the always classic blue/black/white/red/cream/pink combination. As you can see, we've added a touch of his-and-hers to our look and played around a little with full colour blocking/aeroplane print/jailhouse stripes. It's currently winter here in Melbourne and a cold one at that, so I worked in some layering to my outfit- remember you MUST be conscious of the weather when selecting what to wear. With regards to our hair and makeup, we have gone for a super-fresh, minimalist, just-got-out-of bed look. I've teamed my uber-relaxed pant with an A/W11 must have; the babushka print wellington. You can't see it in this shot but Peter Parker has played on his black lightweight hooded top and added a pair of over sized black and white Collingwood Football Club slippers to the mix.

Believe it or not, this look IS achievable. Please see below for stock lists.

Target (1800 814 788)
Supre ((02) 9550 4200)
eBay (ebay.com.au)
Parents (You should know your own parent's number)

Cheeseballs are us.

2011-07-23T13:10:00.000+10:00

THAT'S what's up.

Relax, I'm premenstrual.

2011-07-22T21:49:00.000+10:00

So Peter Parker has gone out tonight and S is in bed. I'm sitting on the couch watching Britain's Next Top Model and drinking my second glass of red.

I'm feeling very overwhelmed and teary tonight and I'm quite sure it's because I'm due to surf the crimson wave in a few days. This week has been a good week and I feel very lucky to have the friends I do.

Even though Peter Parker has a good job and I now work two part time jobs as well as studying, we aren't rolling in it and we never, ever get to buy things like new clothes.

Before we found out I was pregnant, Peter Parker and I were two completely normal 20 somethings. He had a travel debt and a car loan and I was paying off a loan and was maxing out my credit cards after moving to Melbourne and spending way too much. As you can imagine, seven months worth of two incomes was not enough to clear our debt before S arrived so we still carry it and are slowly chipping away at it while paying rent, bills and childcare fees.

I've always told myself that we are so lucky, because we can afford to live in a good area and we aren't drowning in debt. I've spent months wearing the same outfits and honestly not caring because let's face it- there are much bigger things to be focusing on.

But this morning my friend Catherine sent me a text saying she was at Chadstone spending her tax money on new clothes and I felt a twinge of jealousy.

Tonight I got home from work and found four new tops waiting for me in the lounge room with a note attached from Catherine claiming they were an extremely belated birthday pressie and I wanted to cry, but I waited until Peter Parker went out and now I'm sitting on the couch like a massive dork balling my eyes out. Because I'm happy. Not sad.

My friends are so excellent.

Catherine and I at my birthday party in April.

Kiss ME Ron Weasley!

2011-07-19T20:26:00.000+10:00

I can't believe I didn't cry last night. I did try really hard not to because I wasn't wearing waterproof mascara so I did my old press-my-nose-really-hard trick during the super tear jerky moments. Examples:

1. When everyone was defending Hogwarts by shooting off defensive spells I nearly cried proud tears.
2. When Snape was addressing all of the students at Hogwarts and then Harry reveals himself and Professor McGonagall steps in front of him and duels Snape.
3. When Hermione, Ron and Harry ride the dragon out of Gringotts.
4. When Fred dies.
5. When Mrs Weasley kills Bellatrix Le Strange.
6. When Neville Longbottom stepped up to Voldemort and said his piece. Go Neville! You could have been the chosen one!
7. When Abberforth Dumbledore set off a huuuuuuuge Patronus and fought off all of the Dementors on his own.
8. When Snape dies and Harry finally finds out the truth about him.

The best part of the WHOOOLLLEE movie was when FINALLY, after YEARS of waiting, Ron and Hermione kissed. On the lips. Like a full on pash.

Check it out:

The movie was so great I excused Ginny's awful future hair at the end of the movie in the "19 years later" part.

It's official, I am a working mum.

2011-07-19T20:07:00.000+10:00

/Student.

So it turns out getting offered a job at the end of your internship DOES happen in real life. Amazing!

I feel like maybe someone out there is all like "Well Kate, you don't get any sleep and you try really hard at life so here is a shiny new job. Well done."

*fist pump*

You know it, Pauly D.

Well there's no doubt who her father is.

2011-07-19T19:57:00.000+10:00

We got a sneak peak today from Peter Parker's friend Steve Arklay who took our family photos on Sunday. How stoked do we look in the top photo? You can tell I was totes loving it. S was doing her Macaulay Culkin Classic as usual. She knows when to turn it on!

Peter Parker is so handsome. *squee*

I love you Ron Weasly!

2011-07-18T11:22:00.000+10:00

So tonight Catherine and I are going to watch the final installment of the Harry Potter series. NOOOO. I don't want it to end! At least I can look forward to reading the books to S so it's not reeeally over. It's not. It's NOOOOOTTTT!!!!

Ron Weasley and I.

Beep beep beep I cannot wait!

Hectic

2011-07-18T10:55:00.000+10:00

Wowzer. What a weekend.

On Friday night Andy and Lauren came over for drinks. Peter Parker wowed us with his rendition of Natasha Beddingfield's "I. Bruise. Eeeeeasily. So be gen-TLE when you haaaandle me." Well done Peter Parker.

On Saturday night Peter Parker and I went out to Public House in Richmond for PP's cousin Luke's 30th birthday. The drinks were free and I wore stupidly high heels resulting in the numbing of my feet. On the way home we stopped at McDonald's and purchased $19.60 worth of wholesome goodness because we are healthy as. Happy birthday Luke.

"Happy birthday Luke, nice G-String. Matt + Kate."

On Sunday morning/early afternoon we took part in a family photoshoot at PP's parent's flower farm where once again I wore inappropriate shoes. Pumps and mud do not mix. Add to this a long and steep driveway and a toddler who refuses to walk and you get the workout of the century. Thank god I bought boots to change into after my massive hike.

Setting up Josh & Isacc's tractor shot

Little Madame totes loving riding around on the four wheeler.

Attempting to get all three kids to smile. Or at least not cry.

Sunday afternoon we attended Boy and Stacey's engagement party where Stacey put everyone to shame with her drinking skillz. "How hot is SHE. I wasn't this hot when I was in year 12." (What?) We left at 6.15pm and she was still standing. Just. Rock 'n' roll Stace! Anywho Sunday night I went out to dinner at Lulo which is a tapas bar in Hawthorn with Joke and Siobhan. It was very de-lish. I had no idea what I was eating because Joke got the waiter to pick everything for us. Lots of foam and jelly. I could positively identify the bread and the choritzo, everything else was alien to me but it tasted great.

To add to this excellent weekend, SIENNA SLEPT THROOOUGH THE NIGHT on Friday and Sunday nights. Ahhhhh sweet relief.

Well this is a dramatic turn of events

2011-07-14T10:33:00.000+10:00

So it appears that our fish tank coffee table where goldfish came to die is now a breeding haven. I blogged earlier in the week about how one of our brand new fish gave (live) birth to four baby fish on Sunday. I swear, there were four. We obsessed over them, making sure they were OK. Honestly, given our awful run of luck with keeping fish alive, I didn't expect to them to live longer than a day or two.

Then last night, something magical happened.

PP: "Can you see all of the babies?"
Me: "Yep, one, two, three, four, five.......six......seven?!"
PP: "Seven?? Where?"

Yes.

There were seven baby fish in our tank along with five adult fish.

I counted them again this morning just to make sure I didn't dream it/hallucinate (wouldn't be surprised if I did on the amount of sleep I'm getting).

PROOF:

Holy shit. It's a mid week miracle.

This is so relevant to me!

2011-07-13T19:54:00.002+10:00

I know this is doing the rounds at the moment but just in case you are one of the eight people in Australia who hasn't seen this, please enjoy.

Rain don't bother me!

2011-07-13T16:32:00.000+10:00

According to S, it is much more fun to be out and about in the wet, 10 degree Melbourne weather than snuggled up inside in front of the heater. Thank you, darling child for helping mummy and daddy lower their gas and electricity bills.

Rain? What rain?

I love emptying mummy's purse all over the ground.

Sup? Baby stylin'.

Whyyyy won't my baby sleep?

2011-07-13T10:57:00.004+10:00

So. Little Madame was a non sleeper up to the age of three months old. From three months to ten months old she was a little angel, sleeping 12 hours a night, 98% of the time. When S was ten months old, she started attending childcare twice a week so I could go to university.

That is when the sleeping stopped.

I have spent the past five months trying to figure out what is keeping her awake in the middle of the night.

1. Is she teething?
2. Can she breath? She is coughing a lot.
3. Is she too cold?
4. Is she too hot?
5. Maybe she needs her dummy.
6. Should I use a nightlight in her room?
7. Is the nightlight keeping her up?
8. Is she hungry?
9. Maybe she is having nightmares.
10. I think she is overtired!
11. Does she nap too much during the day?
12. Is she teething again?
13. It must be teething.
14. Have the possums that live in the roof of our shed broken into her room and attacked her?

I have tried EVERYTHING to get her to sleep.

1. Give her the dummy.
2. Put a heater in her room.
3. Zipped her up in a sleeping bag.
4. Put on soothing night time music.
5. Used a night light.
6. Turned off the night light.
7. Cranked up the vaporizer.
8. Gotten rid of the vaporizer.
9. Put Vix on her sleeping bag/chest/all over her cot.
10. Given her a 'blanky'.
11. Controlled crying.
12. Walk in, lie her down, rub her back, don't say a word and walk out.
13. Repeat.
14. Repeat.
15. Aaaand repeat.
16. Picked her up and cuddled her.
17. Give her a shot of Panadol.
18. Give her a shot of Nurofen.
19. Give her a bottle of milk.
20. Sing to her.
21. Give her a back rub and say soothing things to her.
22. Closed the three doors between her room and our room so that we can't hear her and she is forced to scream herself to sleep.
23. Put Bonjella on her gums.
24. Put SM-33 on her gums.
25. Ask her politely to PLEASE. GO. TO. SLEEP.

This morning as I peeled my sleep deprived body out of bed I had an epiphany. Perhaps, I thought to myself, she isn't sleeping through the night because *gasp* she is a BABY and some babies are just unsettled and there is nothing you can do about it, it's a phase and one day, they will grow out of it.

One day she will become settled. One. Day.

Until then, I will continue to drink too much coffee and apply my concealer to cover my Polish/sleepy under-eye bags following night after night of treading the boards.

Perhaps we should try this trick again.
Little Madame aged about a week old.

Does your baby/child sleep through the night? Have they always done this? What have you done to get your baby/child to sleep?

New mum alert!

2011-07-13T10:30:00.000+10:00

Alright! First cab off the rank this morning is a big congratulations to my excellent friend Jill who pushed out baby Riley last night (with no drugs no less!), weighing in at a whopping 8 pounds 14 ounces (4.03kg). Well done Jill, that is a mighty effort.

February '11 in Perth with Jess, Jill and Aimee. Riley crashed our Valentines Day Lady Date!

Pre Toilet Training Training

2011-07-11T11:36:00.000+10:00

So. Little Madame is nearly 15 months old aaand I figured that by the end of this year I'm going to want to start thinking about toilet training her.

We have commenced Pre Toilet Training Training.

At least once a day we follow this routine:

Me: "Hmm. I feel like maybe I need to do a wee."
S: "Hmmm."
Me: "I'm going to go to the toilet."

*Walk with S to the toilet. Put her on floor in front of me. Wee. Wipe. Flush.*

Me: "I love going to the toilet, what a relief. Now, let's wash our hands."
S: "Hahaha!"

*Wash hands*

Me: "All done! Mummy doesn't need a nappy!"

I figure she needs to see HOW to go to the toilet before I pop her on the potty in a few months. Not weird at all.

Anways. It appears our little Pre Toilet Training Training routine has glamourised the toilet. S seems to think the toilet is a cool place to hang, a cubby if you will.

Yes, this is our actual toilet.*

The toilet door now remains closed at all times. ALL TIMES PETER PARKER!

Toilet training tips anyone?

*Not our actual toilet. I wish.

Fish Life: Take 38

2011-07-11T11:17:00.000+10:00

Or something.

I know that recently I have picked up a few new followers who I presume haven't delved into the archives of my blog so I'll give you a little run down of our fishy situation.

When I was pregnant Peter Parker bought a 160L fish tank coffee table off eBay for like, $50. It is now proudly displayed in our lounge room and Little Miss enjoys sticking her hands in it and playing with the fish. I told him that it was his responsibility to maintain it and he has stuck to this agreement.

Originally it was a cold, freshwater tank so we housed several gold fish and various other goldfishy looking fish in assorted colours. No matter how frequently PP checked the Ph (or whatever it is) and noted the acidity levels in the water, the fish kept dying.

I stubbornly renamed the new fish after the original fish and over a year after we obtained our beloved fish tank coffee table we ended up with fish named Michael Jackson 6, Tom 4 and Courtenay 5 etc etc.

A few months ago when all bar of our fish had died, Peter Parker decided that his next life goal was to pop a heater into the tank so that we could purchase warm, freshwater tropical fish. He put the heater in the water (not turned on) as a way of encouraging the one remaining fish to perhaps consider moving on to the next life. We didn't want to flush the little survivor, he had lived a long and fruitful existence.

Two months later he was still soldiering on.

Peter Parker turned on the heater, thinking little Hercules would drift off into a warm water induced eternal slumber.

The stubborn little fish LIVED.

On Saturday, Peter Parker scooped out the little fish and returned him to the aquarium shop where he had come from nearly a year ago and came home with five new fresh water tropicals.

On Sunday, one of the fish had FOUR BABIES.

YES, they were born ALIVE. Not from eggs! I didn't even know that could happen.

Anyways, the baby fish are so tiny and perhaps it's because we are parents, PP and I have become OBSESSED with checking on the 5mm long babies. PP spent all of yesterday researching how to keep them alive.

It's OK four little members of the Jackson 5! I'll make sure Michael Jackson 7 doesn't eat you!

One of the four teeny tiny fish babies.

Ban the Burqa? I think not.

2011-07-10T13:54:00.000+10:00

This charming event was brought to my attention today.

RAAAAGE!

I just spent an hour reading all of the comments posted on this event and I still can't get over the fact that there are people out there who are so closed minded and xenophobic. I've copied these examples directly from the event's Facebook page:

Oh and no, I don't regret posting their names on my blog. I'm just re-publishing what they published on a public forum. Go and have a look for yourself, I could spend hours copying and pasting the disgusting comments people have been proudly posting.

I'm all about understanding. Of course I don't agree with the oppression of women or Islamic extremist activities like those of September 11 or the Bali Bombings. I do, however, believe that we cannot tar an entire religion or culture with the same brush because of the actions of a minority.

With regards to wearing the Burqa in Australia, I believe in religious freedom. Just as a Catholic might wear a crucifix or a "Jesus LIVES!" t-shirt, a Muslim woman should be allowed to wear a Burqa or a Hijab. I don't care if it conceals their identity when they are at the bank or at the airport. I like to think of myself as the kind of person who doesn't assume everyone who wears a Burqa is out to commit a crime or perform an act of terrorism. IF a Muslim woman who wears a Burqa is required to show her face briefly for identification purposes, I do think that she has the right to request the presence of a female and the absence of any males before doing so. A complete ban of the Burqa is not necessary.

Anywho, enjoy your Sunday!

My mind is boggled

2011-07-07T12:14:00.001+10:00

OK I am way too busy to be blogging right now. Too busy spending Sienna nap time/ Peter Parker at work time watching my latest reality TV OBSESSION, Big Fat Gypsy Wedding. I'll run out of episodes soon so I'll come crawling back to my blog, but for now, I am glued to YouTube.

BEHOOOLD! A clip from episode two:

Must. Keep. Watching.

Annoying Peter Parker 101

2011-07-05T20:59:00.000+10:00

The Wizard of Oz is one of my all time favourite movies. When I was in high school I was a performing arts geek. I studied drama and participated in the Smoke-Free Rock Eisteddfod Challenge every year ("It's not fair, your skin's better than mine, what do you use?" "Not THESE for a start."). In year 10, we entered an eight minute all dancing/all smiling version of Oz. Guess who I played? Dorothy? Nope. Glinda the Good Witch? Nope. I played the Scarecrow. The Scarecrow who required a brain.

Anways. My love of The Wizard of Oz has spilled over into my relationship with Peter Parker and it irritates the crap out of him.

Example:

PP: "Kate, why are you so hyper tonight?"
Me: "Because."
PP: "Because what?"
Me: "Because, because, because, because! Because of the wonderful things he does!"

Peter Parker must really love me because I'm fairly sure any other guy would have 'gone out for milk' and never come back.

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

Boo Blogger Booo

2011-07-05T20:16:00.000+10:00

I still can't comment on here so can I just say FANKS to all the excellent peeps who comment/email lovely things to me. I've popped my New Mum's Survival Guide into a tab up the top because I've had quite a bit of positive feedback on it.

*Flattered*

Squeeee!!