September 2015

I woke up yesterday morning to a view of the back of Steve’s head, watching the first game of the Rugby World Cup – Fiji Versus England. Thankfully England won, ‘which means I’ve got a happy hubby. They’ll be playing Australia soon and that will be an interesting match to watch together. However, at that moment the photo was taken, I realized this is my view for the next six weeks. Since then, four more matches have been watched. Only one upset so far – but I can’t tell you who, because it will be a spoiler for those who haven’t had a chance to watch it yet. I appreciate my husband’s need to stay off Facebook right now. I could easily be a moaning, demanding bitch of course, because this stuff is going to consume our lives for the coming weeks, but I won’t, and the reasons: Steve is pretty un-demanding on the sports needs front. He has his sporting passions, but he’s very considerate and often watches games after we all go to bed, so it doesn’t impact family time. He’s a thoughtful guy – in many ways I don’t mind watching a bit of rugby myself. As far as the male form goes, rugby players have the type of body I find desirable, and even though I won’t watch every game, I am happy to view the scrum bums and thighs when I wander past the TV. It’s always been a spunk fest for me The haka – say no more. Love it! Ultimate in sex appeal So I am happy to give Steve as much time as he needs – day or night – to watch his beloved rugby. My challenge now is resisting giving him a hard time about staying up late at night to watch games. He’s a grown boy and can do whatever the hell he wants. Although a moaning, tired husband is not a joy. On another note, we took the boys to the Singapore Grand Prix Friday night – I know lucky kids. But the real news happened the next day. We got them home and in bed around 10pm, AND they didn’t come out of their room until 11am the next morning. That’s right, 11am! In the nine years since becoming a mother, that has never happened. Never ever ever. We couldn’t believe it, but weirdly, both Steve and I were up at 9am. That doesn’t happen on weekends either. Have we hit that cross-over point where parents are awake before the kids? I think I want that, but boy they’ll be pains in the arse to wake up when the school holiday are over in two weeks…. We’ll deal with that when it comes. Getting back to the rugby, did you see the end of the South Africa Vs Japan game? Mate, I was in tears. So exciting. And with that, all I can say is Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi! Go Wallabies. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

We had Lex’s parent teacher interview today. These sessions used to fill Steve and me with dread. Not because we didn’t believe in our little guy, but because we never seemed to be able to get the answers to the questions we always had, like: “how can we help him?” Always our least favorite, because it’s only ever been met with “we seriously just don’t know.” With some rickshaw uncles in Vietnam That’s what happens when your kid doesn’t fit into a specific learning gap or specific need. It also appears to be what happens when no one really understands what the hell is going on with a speech delayed child – for reasons other than autism. But Lex knew. He just wanted the world to give him love AND time to catch up. Not being able to hear properly from the first year of your life – with no one being able to diagnose the issue until you are close to four – well who knows what he missed? We don’t know. We’ve never known. The specialists haven’t known either. The only thing we have known is Lex is smart, a bloody hard worker, insanely curious, he’s got a massive heart, and he’s full of ambition. But he doesn’t like to look silly, and he certainly never likes to be embarrassed. That’s been a big part of helping him how heneeds to be helped, because it’s critical we respect and understand who he is. It’s been a long road and today we went into the session to hear that his lowest score was 82% – for reading fluency. The other scores were 93% for spelling and 91% for maths. Incredible right? I don’t recall the rest of the scores, because all I could think about was at the same time last year, they couldn’t guarantee he’d actually move up a year. He was struggling too much. But they did move him up, and we only found that out during the school concert, at which point Steve and I both burst into tears – bless! Ain’t no mountain high enough I found that really hard. He started school behind, but being in the same year as his younger brother is something I’m happy to live with. He missed out on a lot from a young age, so if staying down a year is the worst that comes from it in the long run, so be it. But being in a year below his younger brother? I struggled with that idea, mainly because of the potential impact on his self-esteem in the later years of school. Alas we didn’t face that and here we were today hearing the most wonderful news. We also have to accept that he’ll probably need to be at that school for another year. While that’s not our preference (nor his, because there are no girls in his class and he’s desperate to kiss the pretty girls) we can do another year. We’ve come this far and it’s good for him right now. The only thing that’s ever mattered is Lex coming out the other side awesome – as we always knew he would. I admire both of my boys so much, but Lex took the cake this week. He’s a rock star today, and I’m just so bloody proud of my little guy. My word he’s earned it. To other parents out there with speech delayed kids, keep the faith in your munchkins. They’ll eventually come good (with a lot of love and patience) and in their own unique way, show the world you were right. It’s not an easy journey, but on days like today, it all feels worthwhile. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

I’m going out on a limb here and speaking on behalf of the mummy sisterhood, but it’s time for it to be said. I need to tell you why mums are averse to sex. It begins with pregnancy. Three things happen during this time – your sex drive stays the same, you become a nymphomaniac, or you are so turned off sex you can think of nothing worse. Blokes can also get turned off too. That’s not good if you go the nympho route. The thing that surprised me is you have no idea which way you’ll go once pregnant. It’s a lottery. But after your bundle of joy arrives that’s when everything REALLY changes. Your pregnancy sex drive (or lack of) becomes a distant memory and you can look back on that time with some perspective. It’s a weird period for your body being pregnant. It’s a weird time for your sex drive too. You put it behind you. You have no choice. Motherhood is a series of moving ons. Then they’re here. If you’re breastfeeding, every 2-4 hours there’s a baby attached to your boob – which means you are completely immobilized during that time. But beyond the boob, they must be held, cradled through the night, they cry for no apparent reason, you’re exhausted, it’s intense, but seriously, that first year is the easiest year. From my experience I felt that while they are relatively immobile, things were good. That’s another thing you appreciate in hindsight. And to those women who worry about their kids not walking before two, as long as there is no issue being confronted about your child’s development – I say “don’t worry about it. Do you know how fucking lucky you are?” My two got mobile at four months (leopard crawling) and by 11/12 months they were running, not walking. I had no idea at the beginning how quickly my peace would be over. In fact, I never had any peace. I’m only starting to get it back now. Once your children are on the move, life becomes chaotic madness. You have children with no logic or sense of danger, and their extreme emotions rule your life. They’re on their feet and on the move every waking hour of the day. The stand on you, hit you (accidentally), bite you (not accidentally), leave toys for you to step on, you trip over your kids, they trip over you, they run to you for cuddles when hurt, cry because they’re tired, and take all of their emotions out on you. That list can go on. So, by the time bedtime comes around, you close your child’s door with relish in your heart and a skip in your step. All you want to do is sit down and not speak. We also celebrated another day our kids survived unscathed (most of the time). Not everyone has to do that, of course, but we did. And at the end of all of that, your husband/partner/significant other/the father of your children gives you a nudge nudge wink wink and all you want to say is “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” But you can’t of course, no matter how much you want to. Most of the time it’s a case of “love, I’m sorry but not tonight, I just can’t.” But they have their needs too and sometimes you have to say: “sure love, it’s been on my mind all day too, I couldn’t think of anything better right now…” Two things are happening here, I believe. Your subconscious mind is screaming “are you fucking crazy? Don’t you know that sex is what got us into this situation in the first place?” And two, the thought of anyone touching you, needing you, cuddling you, demanding anything from you, is nothing short of revolting. And then time moves on, your kids need you less, they still love a cuddle but are not so physically demanding anymore, and all of a sudden, you look at your husband and give HIMa nudge nudge wink wink. I reckon I’m getting closer to that these days. It’s a bit of a relief I must say. Steve is rather delighted about it too. Anyone else relate to my experience? Am I speaking on behalf of the mummy sisterhood here? Or did you become a raving nymphomaniac after the kids were born? I’d love to know. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea BTW I’m on Twitter here, Google+ here, and Facebook too, if you’re interested in the other stuff I share. Feel free to share my blog if you think anyone else you know will be interested. I sure do appreciate it when you do xxxxx