The curse of the Ad jingle

(Warning: this will not make any sense to non-Australians!) There’s an ad on TV at the moment, which I partly love and partly hate. It’s for soho Delites (savoury biscuits) It’s set in an office. The girl takes a bite and pretty soon everyone’s joining in and the tune it set to “Afternoon Delights”. “…sky rockets in flight.” “PEOW!” Annoying guy interjects. “Afternoon Delights. Afternoon Delights!” Stuck in your head yet?

What movie are we watching again?

I finally sat down and watched all of Batman Begins on the weekend. I enjoyed it, although the script left a lot to be desired. It looked amazing. The visuals were wonderful. Yet, when it came to the climax… (Spoilers, if you haven’t seen it) …where Christian Bale and Liam Neeson are fighting it out and Liam tumbles over the edge of the broken railway line to be pummelled to death in the train wreckage, I turned to Adam and said: “I’m having déjà vu. This looks like the end of Speed.” “I was thinking Die Hard III, actually.” Are there any action movies without clichéd endings out there? Remind me?

Early shift short straw on daylight savings day

I remember working early shifts at McDonalds the day daylight savings begins. Being a teenager, you resent getting out of bed anyway; especially when you lose another hour on top of that. I kind of feel like that this morning because Riley was a ratbag last night and he wanted to get up early. Go figure. Keira is two and a half today. I was planning on writing something poignant. Instead, something's on my mind. She is a big comfort/crutch girl. She has a blankie and sucks her thumb. I can live with those - although it's getting harder as she's getting older - but this week's seen a new habit. Chewing her nails. I am at fault. I am the worlds biggest nail chewer and she's probably watched me. Which is why a) I want to quash this right away and b) I don't want to dwell over it either. It might make it worse. I'll monitor the situation. If anyone has any advice, let me know.

Some Weird Facts about Me

I've had this written up for a while, but have been distracted this week. Enjoy! Or, if not, have a good laugh at my expense. 1) I love tornadoes Naturally, if I lived in the US mid-west I’d probably have different feelings about them, but I could watch one for hours. There’s just something about that cone of destructiveness that I find quite powerful on an emotional level. 2) I have passing obsessions with certain celebrities 1995 was the worst year for me. Up to, and including that year, I’d been ‘in love’ with Val Kilmer. I’d even gone so far as to fantasise I was the nanny for his kids and I lived on his ranch in New Mexico and that somehow he’d realise I was his perfect woman and not his wife. OH. MY. GOD. How stalker-killer does that sound? (Well, come on, I was only 15-ish). After that, it was Gary Oldman; then James Spader. You’ve got to admit, my taste is OK. 3) I have a double-jointed right thumb It’s kind of double jointed. I can fold it back almost onto itself. I’m sure that counts. 4) I am afraid of frogs It’s hereditary. I could rattle off family members who are worse encumbered with this condition (Ranidaphobia) but I won’t. Let’s just say I think frogs are the devil’s boogers. 5) I have a knack for approximating time and volume Provided I know a city fairly well, you ask me how long it takes to get from point A to point B and I can usually tell you faithfully. And when cooking, I can pour out a tablespoon or teaspoon down to the drop; but that’s more from practice. 6) I am obsessed with a baby’s birth weight But aren’t most people? If you hear about a baby being born, isn’t one of the first questions you ask is, “How much did he/she weigh?” It’s an interesting, albeit arbitrary, frame of reference. Having birthed a 7pd5oz and a considerably bigger 8pd12oz I can honestly say I think whatever the size; the pain feels relatively the same. But that’s just my experience. 7) I find maps fascinating It was one of my joys of childhood; to pour over an atlas. I still even have a map of the world taped over our bathtub. ‘Officially’ for Keira’s education, I think we can safely say I get more enjoyment out of it than she does. 8) I own far too many poetry anthologies I mean, I don’t really even like poetry, but I’ve got tomes of them; and not even of the ones I DO enjoy, like Tennyson or Frost. Unless you count Dr Suess… 9) I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again proudly: I love (some) Star Trek’s Enterprise can go jump into a black hole, or a worm hole, or be assimilated by the Borg for all I care. There, wasn't it worth the wait?!

Opinions on the obvious design changes

After shopping around this past week for domain names, other blogging platform software, service providers etcetc I came to my senses. 1) I have little money to spend in the first place 2) I know little about coding or anything IT related, apart from a little I've had to pick up from necessity 3) I remembered there are good three column blogger templates out there, I just had to go look for them. So, I went with door number three and it was less of a hassle to swap over than I thought. Of course, as you can see, there are housekeeping issues I need to sort out, like re-doing all my links, but I can do that on the weekend. The banner up the top has grid issues, and I have been thinking is too small anyway (So I may have to hit up my friend who did the first one to, maybe, see if its possible to re-do.....? She knows who she is!). I'm not sure I like the font that's defaulted to be used. I was sick of a plain white blackground, so I went with the silver? Nice? What else do you all reckon? What needs tinkering with?

I've walked the walk; now I've got the t-shirt

This arrived for me in mail yesterday: (Available here) After putting it on and realising it was too big for me - thus confirming why I hate buying clothes online - Adam assured me it looks good. What do you all think? Am I a certifiable geek now? Or tre' cool?

Out of the mouths of babes

I am tempted to put Keira's photo in the celebrity look-alike program. Maybe get a prediction of what she'll look like in 30 years. Poor Adam, he did NOT bode well in the test, so I will forgoe putting his results up. However, he should be happy. Yesterday we were watching Entertainment Tonight and an interview with John Travolta comes on. "Daddy!" cries Keira. "He looks like daddy?" says I. "Yeah". Pause. "A fat daddy." Uh, well, OK. I just wouldn't say that to his face - way to piss off a celebrity! (Johnnie did look a little chunky though, I must say)

Boost for my self-esteem

http://www.myheritage.com I could go on doing these all day! Does this mean I only look 75% like Paris Hilton - - or she only looks 75% like me? I think that 'missing' 25% in any case is probably my body fat!

Life imitating art

“Keira! Keira, look at me when I’m talking to you. Look at me. Loooooooook at meee!” My God, I’ve turned into Kath from Kath and Kim.

Why haute cuisine can be annoying

Look at this photo: This was taken from the Sunday magazine from one of the newspapers down here in Melbourne a few weeks ago (see, it takes me this long to get organised). It's a Donna Hay recipe for asparagus and goats cheese bruschetta. Now the burning question: how do you eat the damn thing? I mean, you could cut it up with a knife and fork, but that's not the 'point' behind bruschetta (or so I thought). Biting it could result in the asparagus snapping, and flicking back and poking you in the eye. If this had been served up to me in a restaurant, you know what I think I'd do? Eat the asparagus separately; then tackle the bread. Does that make me a heathen?

Keira, queen of the cats

Okay, first look at this photo, taken from many funny others here. Take a close look at the cat the speech bubble is coming from. Now, look at Keira's stinkeye picture: Is it just me or do I note a spooky similarity?!

Houseplants: extensions of the maternalistic arm or pains in the ass?

I have no green thumb and I have no desire to even develop one at this point in my life. The plants that we have in our garden are the ‘plant them and wait and see’ varieties which mostly, surprisingly, have survived. God invented azaleas for people like me. Then why, do I keep these? To be honest, I don’t know. The one on the right used to be only ten centimetres high. Well, actually, we bought it the size it is now, but let it die out to almost nothing. Then Adam felt all guilty and nursed it back to life. If I’d have my way, it would be germinating somewhere in landfill right about now. The other one is a companion plant, and is still in its original pot, because frankly I’m too scared to do anything with it. I think they look terrible, but I can’t move them about the house. It used to be because we had a cat, and these are poisonous to cats (don’t ask me what species they are; I think they are white lilianthus, but I can’t remember. It’s been that long since they flowered…) Now we have Keira who can destroy things a lot quicker than a cat, so still have to keep them up out of the way. So I’m stuck with the ugly things on my table. What say you all––kick out my unwanted, neglected babies, or give them the TCL that the greenies out there would say they deserved?

Moments like these...

"Mum, you're weeing in the SHOWER!" "No Keira, it's just the water running down my legs. It looks like I am, but I'm not" It's too late, I can't convince her otherwise, and Keira is doubled over in hysterics. Gee, she's easily amused some days. Added Later: "Keira, NO!" The potty villain strikes again. This time, she's up at the bathroom sink, put the plug in, and is running the water full pelt. I heard the force of it at the other end of the house. I run in to stop it just as it was reaching the top.... And they wonder why there's a water shortage (apart from my own extravagances)

Thank God You're Here!...Yeah, I wish

Anyone watch TGYH and think to themselves, "I could do that". I do--on a good night, at least. For example, last night during Tony "flashman" Martin's skit, and he was fed the line: "What is your catchphrase again?" I immediately said "Be alert; not alarmed". ZING! Now, our esteemed governor-general may not think that sleep deprivation is torture; but I ask him how many nights he’s been up with babies lately. Yesterday, the tiredness hit me physically: I had pains in my stomach; my eyes were droopy. I’d hit the caffeine and the Tim Tams by 10am. Imagine the state I could’ve been in if my father wasn’t staying at the moment. Wait, father? Wasn’t my mum here last week? Why do they visit separately? To give me an extra weeks worth of help. Bless their grandparent-y socks. Last night I was up every two hours. So today I'm feeling rather delicate and prone to tears. What the kids are up to: Riley: he’s now begun to hold up his arms when he wants to be picked up, which I find cute as Keira rarely did that (She preferred to get around herself). The other night, at a pinch, it kind of sounded like he was saying “dada dada” but then again he could’ve been drowning in the mouthful of baby food that can just gone down his throat the wrong way. Keira: has begun the condescending, slow nodding of the head, complete with raised eyebrows that I will have to endure from now until eternity, when I ask her a question. For example, when she’s hungry, ready to eat: “Keira, you want dinner now?” “Yeesssss” and the slow nod. Well, ask a stupid question….

To coin a famously bad, but unforgettable, catchphrase: “I’m Excited!”

Big Kev may no longer be with us, but his words still live on. The project I referred to the other day is my unfinished novel, and yesterday I printed it off, out of curiosity. I have 26,000 words down; I estimate, if I keep it that ‘wordy’ in it’s entirety, by the time it’s finished it will be 130,000+. That’s way too long for the novel I want it to be but too much is better than too little at the draft stage. Anyway, I’ve been flicking through it and have come up with the usual results: some of it is dreadful; some of it is––pardon the arrogance––not too bad. So, if I do not blog with my dogged regularity from now on, I hope you’ll forgive me. Wow – it’s nice to feel enthusiastic about something. Oh––the kids. Yes! I haven’t forgotten about them. Yes, I’m always enthusiastic about them. Yes. Yes. Convinced?! Well, don't be. Not this morning, at least. Because I have a very grumpy, teething baby and a daughter who's 5am risings are beginning to catch up with her (not to mention mum). The house, no matter how I try, is a mess. *deep breath*

“Gee, you’re so organised!”

I get this comment a lot. I actually think I am very lazy, but it got me to thinking: can a comment simultaneously be both true and false? Is that a philosophical possibility? I think it is in my case anyway. I admit I’m a pretty goal-orientated person, but not in the Anthony Robbins, ‘your goals are what makes you’ kind of way. However, saying that, goals have taken me through the rough periods of anxiety/depression in my life. At those times I do recommend the if-I-do-only-one-thing-today-it’s-a-good day mentality. So, on a good day, I mark up about 20 things I need to do, and then do them quickly (resulting in a journal entry not unlike the quoted one from two days ago). Then, I fall in a heap. In order to break this cycle, I do try to take daily, even baby, steps. I follow the advice from FLYlady. (Some of my closer friends will be clapping their hands over their eyes here going, No! Not FLYlady again!) Hey, her ideas work for some and not for others. That’s cool. One word of warning: if you’re serious about getting ‘set up’, it can take a while. Quote from diary at time I was: “Spent a frigging hour on this FLYlady organisational thing, doing up timetables and what-not. Better be worth the trouble”. Yes, it was. Well, for the most part: until life, or your baby’s routine, changes naturally and then needs updating. Ha, ha, life wasn't meant to be easy!

Another funny from my journal and, yes, I know I’m milking it dry

As I’ve said before, going through Keira’s baby journal has been interesting. I’m finding nuggets of gold in there to help with Riley’s stages of development too. It seems I was as obsessed then, as now, at what precise times certain foods should be introduced into his diet. So, I’ve been distracted, going through photocopied tables and recipes. I also came across the pamphlet ‘how to look after your son’s uncircumcised penis.’ Huh? OK, this is relevant to my current state of affairs; but I fail to see how it was when KEIRA was a baby! Perhaps it was an unconscious act of psychic forecasting! Perhaps it explains why my research folders are always so fat. I keep everything ‘just in case’. What kind of paper trails do you leave behind?

The old saying, the more things change blah blah

I am going through the detailed journal I kept for the first year of Keira’s life at the moment for another project I want to re-start. The journal is quite enlightening. Here is an excerpt from the same period in her life as Riley’s at now: “Run around like a chook with head cut off this morning, trying to do all my ‘to do’ jobs and now I feel sick and light-headed and could do with a lie down…Chewed nails in an absolute frenzy yesterday. Don’t know why. 2 bandaids on today…Keira got up to mischief, crawled into the bathroom like a shot and now wants to explore the tiled areas. Is so much more confident now crawling and sitting up, is making life more happier for her, and us…she is having fun exploring” (Keira was rather a freak of dexterity and was crawling by 6 months) On debating whether to go back to university: “I still haven’t sent back my acceptance and I’m a little afraid to. (When do I) do stuff for ME alone, ever, now? Yesterday I stayed behind in (bookstore) to have some me time. Such a depressing time of year when all the good stuff is coming out and I can’t afford the time or $$$ to read them all.” Oh dear, I was a sad sack, wasn’t I? Funny, I can make fun of it now, this second, because I had a decent night’s sleep and I’m in a good mood. But then, most people tend to journal when they’re in sulky, sullen or depressed moods. Don’t they? Or is that a blatant generalisation?

Ditch (most) additives forever

I hate MSG. When I eat it, I feel sick and my tummy gets irritable. It can’t decide whether it’s full or still hungry. This is precisely why MSG is added to foods – to make the food taste better so we want more of it. I also knew its chemical number on the back of packaging was 621. What I didn’t know was that numbers 620 all the way up to 637 were similar variations of the same thing. (If I read that part right) Next time you buy something you think might have MSG (if it bothers you); it probably does. I know when Keira eats those rice crackers/ sakatas it makes her behaviour change. Maybe that’s why. Website of the book I read to get the above info. The book is easier to digest but both are very interesting in an ‘I’m afraid to go to the supermarket now’ kind of way! Full of stuff about the cocktail of chemicals our food is laced with. Makes me want to be an organic farmer. No wonder it’s a booming industry.

How to prevent gender issues in your child

Actually, that should read, "How NOT to prevent gender issues in your child" I have nearly two and a half years practice of saying to my baby, "Oh good girl!" as she accomplishes one sort of milestone or another. My brain is programmed to say it almost automatically. So, poor Riley, usually when he does something well, the words "Oh good girl!" tend to just spill out. Then I apologise, and say, "Good boy!" (I can now understand my grandmother, who sometimes rattles off half a dozen of my cousin's or aunt's names before settling on mine. It DOES get confusing!) To add to this, Riley wears some of Keira's hand me down clothes! Mind, I used to dress her somewhat of a tomboy. So, when he looks cute in his rugby guernsey, I say "That was Keira's!". People look at me strangely.... Oh, and then there's this: I have to stress, his FATHER modelled that shot. Good Lord, what kind of house is this?!

Possum on a hot tile roof

It was a hot night last night. Luckily, it didn't really affect either Riley or Keira, or myself. However, due to the days becoming longer and the morning's earlier, Keira was up at 5.45am. Thank God nanna's here: "Keira go play with nan" "OK!" I was up by 6.45am anyway. The day has a real summer-edge to it; whipping north-westerlies and not a cloud in the sky. Daylight savings is approaching. As usual, I am anticipating it with a sense of dread (the loss of a precious hours sleep) and optimism (it can't be SO BAD?!) Am I allowed to wish it was cooler weather yet - - or will you thump me one and tell me to get over it?!

My little girl

With the eyes of her great-grandmother, on her dad's side. Unmistakable

Tranquility is shattered by...

Imagine this scene: Keira's just woken from her afternoon nap. She slept deeply and so is taking a little while to come out of her stupor. At times like this, she usually just sits quietly on the couch, sucking her thumb. On the weekend, she's done all of the above, except this time she's sitting in Adam's lap while we're taking a blessed few minutes rest, reading books. (Riley's in bed) All's quiet. Then... BLERT! Keira lets one rip*, with the velocity of a jet engine. Ah, yes, she's a charmer. * I hate the 'f' word - fart.

This is a boring post title

Just as this will be a boring post. Sorry, I'm not much in the mood today. I should be though, as my mum's staying and I have an opportunity to rest and be creative. I'm spending the time being pretty much as lazy as a cat. One thing I will try to attempt today is to hook up the printer to the computer. See how IT savvy (or not) I'm becoming.

Yes, life’s dull when you get excited about garbage collection

We live in what I’ve read as being a ‘green belt’ of Melbourne. I suppose you can read “hippie-ville” into that statement if you want, but it’s not quite that bad. (Well, almost––I’ve heard you have to breathe in deeply before you enter one of our regular markets, unless you want to be tripping around, literally, the rest of the day). Anyway, as a result of local council policy, our suburb has one of the lowest general waste averages in the state (yay, go us). This is because our rubbish bins are tiny, which is partially the reason why I went for the nappy recycling. It would be impossible to fit dirty nappies in our bin as well as everyday stuff. You can get a larger one, but you have to pay for it. However there is such a thing as hard waste collection. That’s the BIG stuff: the mattresses, the dead electrical equipment, busted kid’s toys (hallelujah says anyone who’s bought crap from China). Other suburbs have this kind of collection made regularly. I can’t tell you how jealous I get when we drive by cluttered sidewalks of junk and think of my own garage of the same. Our suburb gets this done only ONCE a year and imagine my joy when I received a letter saying we were due in the next few weeks! It’s anti-Christmas! I get rid of stuff for a change! I’ll be able to move around in my garage! Work out on the dusty gym in there (hmm…maybe). Make room for the next load of birthdays and Christmas toy packaging, more like.

Pandering to pornographic tastes? Not me.

I picked up something on my sitemeter yesterday. Someone googled the words “naughty” “mum” and “daughter” (three guesses why). What’s disturbing to me is that MY SITE came up fifth (5th!) out of 385,000 possibilities, picking up keywords on a previous post. Naturally this person only stayed a second once he/she discovered my site was not to his/her tastes. You do (and I’m not advising anyone to actually DO this) a search for the American spelling “naughty” “mom” and “daughter” and THEN your retinas will be burned by the possibility of 1,830,000 nasty results. Geesh, I don’t know what to think! I can see now why people deliberately take themselves OFF Google’s blog registry and similar databases; but then, for people who actually WANT to attract traffic, it’s kind of a necessity. Comments, anyone?

When dreams cause more confusion than ever..thanks to Grey's Anatomy

I've talked before about my love/hate feelings for Grey's Anatomy. This coupled with the fact that during the week I got my first, serious, "Are you going to have a third baby?" question, and my confused subconscious went to town last night. I dreamt I was pregnant and went into labour. OK, nothing too shocking there. Except the detail was extraordinary. My waters broke and that...smell. The smell of nine months of recycled bodily fluids and baby wee. Yuk. The contractions, which started at full pelt (aren't I lucky). Adam isn't immune to baby dreams either. The other night he also dreamed I was having another one, but his was funnier: he walked through the door after work, like any other day, to be greeted by an army of midwives who informed him I was in labour in the bathroom. Apparently, he backed out of the door...very....slowly...in utter fear. So, what's this to do with Grey's Anatomy? Nothing, except that in the dream (which was taking place in the middle of an episode) Addison was meant to deliver the baby, naturally, but she had been in an accident so I had to accept a hack. The dream ended before I gave birth, so I have no idea what I 'had' but I think it was another boy. This must be the trade off I have to accept on the nights when Riley decides to sleep better. I can live with that.

Life is sweet after a bit of shut-eye

Last night I was ready for battle. I was as psyched as Rocky. I fed Riley up with a bit extra solids before bed; bundled him up good; put him down when he was exhausted --and I only had to get up to him twice (midnight and 5am) and he slept until 8am. Sweet! *happy dance* For this week’s emom blogjolt, I was given Earl’s Red’s Review to have a look at and reference. Imagine my delight when I discovered a similar love of the show Boston Legal. Here in Australia, the show is timetabled in to show at an insanely late hour (for me, anyway) so Adam and I have to resort to…er…other methods to watch it. It is one of my favourites. It’s funny when you’re talking to people about TV shows and you happen to stumble across the fact they too are fans. Instantly, you are connected: “Isn’t it great?” you usually gush. “Aren’t Shatner and Spader hilarious?” Yes and yes. The official website is very clever too: go there, explore, and you’ll have some surprises! Being rather the Trekkie (yes, I admit it) it’s been great to see Shatner recognised with an Emmy for his work at this latter stage in his career –because he’s getting damn old! And being a card-carrying member of the ‘We think James Spader is the sex bomb even if he is getting a little fat’ fan club, well, he can orate all he likes about being a ‘degenerate’ and I’ll be sitting there, drooling, saying “More! More!” Ah, it’s nice to think about stuff like this rather than, oh, say, constipated babies or if Keira’s eaten way too many hidden sugars today.

Riley, the video star

Riley, the video star I'm posting this link to YouTube because Adam and I haven't figure out properly yet how to host video right here (if indeed that is possible). This is Riley, the cutie. And because he is so cute I can excuse him for the Worst. Night. Ever last night. I was up every 1.5-2 hours. I think I can put this down to several reasons: 1) Melbourne's severe windstorm, which resulted in me not being able to sleep until midnight myself 2) The heat of his room; but the fact he also kicks off his blankets and still gets cold. Its a delicate balancing act. 3) Teeth? Hunger? Boredom? Evil streak? Lets hope caffeine (yes, I need it) and iron tablets get me through the day. Only three more sleeps until my mother comes to visit!

There's an elephant in the room...and it's me (again)

I've talked before about my being an intruder before. Well, now I know when I'm not welcome! After all my angst, I went to pick Keira up late this morning. I walk through the door, expecting her to be somewhat pleased to see me (I am, after all, only her mum), yet she barely raises an eyebrow and then refused to leave! In fact, I think she was somewhat grumpy I had the audacity to come back. So I did feel like the proverbial elephant. She eventually got her shoes on (at the coaxing of my friend) with the extra promises of the supermarket and some sort of edible treat (she got some Hi-5 yoghurt). However, I'm pleased to report on the whole the day was a success. Hurray!

Weird Wednesday

I'm writing this while Riley's (hopefully) asleep and Keira's at a playdate with a wonderful girlfriend of mine and her two boys. This may seem ordinary to most people, but it's kind of a big deal for me. I think Keira's separation anxiety (and she has it. I think so. Maybe.) is really perhaps a lesser version to my separation anxiety when she's not with me. This is partly to do with my own anxiety 'stuff' and partly also because she's not had the opportunity for other people to look after her during the day; as we live so far from family, it's just me that shoulders the load (to coin a phrase; she's not a 'load'). Anyway, so I'm here for a free hour (that's right, I'm only talking about a measly hour!). Part of me really, really wants to go back to bed because I had a shocker of a night with Riley. The other part wants to be Miss Productive: catch up on chores, do a bit of work, maybe even brush my teeth. I think bed.

Our favourite books - October 2006

I’ve been meaning to do this list for weeks now: actually, I want to make it a regular feature, but we’ll see how organised I get. So now in no particular order here are some of Keira’s favourite books and authors of the moment. Anthony Browne – especially My Mum and My Dad. Why doesn’t Anthony have his own website? He deserves one; he needs one. He is a genius. Colin McNaughton – Keira’s favourite book is Good News, Bad News however I think his books are aimed at a more mature audience. I’ll have to borrow more from our library to test the theory out. Emily Rodda – I’ve just discovered the original Squeak Street book and I LOVE it. Simplistic yet fun rhymes; a nice premise. The true test is I’m not sick of reading it (yet)! Kemp and Walters Time to say I love you- Brand spanking new. Not even released in the USA until 2007, so says the notes. I like it because its about a mum and daughter spending the day alone together. Rosenthal - One of those Days. New too, and heaps of fun. As relevant to a 60 year old as a two year old. I laughed when I read it.

Why Grey’s Anatomy is starting to p%@! me off!

(Warning: massive spoiler alert for Australians. HUGE) I can’t decide whether Grey’s is soap opera or legitimate drama. The build up to the end of the second season was pretty impressive. Then it ends on a bang (literally) and the third season has begun in rather a post-coital sluggishness. The cat and mouse games between Meredith and McDreamy are, frankly, annoying but they are the only alternative the writers have to keep up the sexual tension when it has, technically, been resolved. Then they add Chris O’Donnell’s sexy vet and Meredith’s decision to continue ‘playing the field’ and I can’t help but feel that the way they keep dancing around the maypole while the secondary, and more interesting, characters are being neglected is criminal. I want to see more of Cristina. I want to know why George is so twitchy. Where the hell is Miranda’s baby? I want to see Alex’s softer side because I know he has it; but most of all I want to see McDreamy’s love child come out of the woodworks because, please, the show has had its melodramatic moments and this isn’t tossing the coin much higher. OK, I’ll admit it. Maybe I’m a little jealous. I can’t pretend that the love triangle-square-hexagon-whatever hasn’t affected me on a subliminal level. Last night, I dreamt about McDreamy. And he was a damn fine kisser. Shame, shame on me.

Thoughts on potty training

Angel over at 1smartmom has a great list to help parents deal with toilet training. I’ve come across it too late, as Keira’s pretty much trained now (a process a long time coming, but as she’s not two and a half yet, I must say I’m pretty pleased with her efforts!). I have a few points to add of my own though: Underpants (undies) or Pull Ups? Look, people will tell you different things. It depends on your mindset and it depends on the child. I think it also depends on the climate, actually. We live in the colder weather, so I think Pull Ups offer a bit more warmth (whether that matters and I’m being a total wus is another story). If you live in the tropics, then I’m sure it’s easier to frolic in undies and a singlet than down here, where you wear layers at a time. In undies, sometime you just can’t strip them down quickly enough! That’s not the child’s fault. But, to state the bloody obvious, undies are undoubtedly better for the environment. Positive reinforcement (or ‘stock up on the lollies’) Angel gives m&m’s; we give smarties. It works. If you want to detour the chocolate (and part of me wishes we did) then other little treats would be fine. Perhaps more expensive… Make it a big deal If I had a dollar for every time I jumped up and down in glee at a wee (I’m a poet!) then, well…hey, I don’t need that gym membership! Most important of all: DON’T STRESS! Your child will feed off you, as they do, and then you’ll be heading downhill the rest of the way.