The Cheaper the Better!

I’ve learned, over five years of parenting, that the cheapest forms of entertainment are often the best. Not just at home, where craft with household bits and pieces are a bigger hit than huge expensive toys, but on holidays too.

Bozo has a grandmother who insists on taking him to all the big, expensive things. Movies, Agricultural Shows, Luna Park, the circus and more. If there’s a cost of admission she’ll do it. It seems like she’s trying to buy his love. Husbeast gets frustrated at this, because he feels like it leaves us with very few things to do when we have him, but I disagree. I know that with kids, even older ones, the novelty value is key. Yes, Luna Park is pretty awesome fun, and the Show is full of rides, but so what? Let her spend all her money on things he won’t remember and hardly appreciates! 

Kids get joy out of new experiences, they don’t care how much adults spend on them! Last year, we took Boo and Bozo to Melbourne for a family event. The day after the event we had a whole day ahead of us with nothing to do, so we created a game plan. We packed lunch in backpacks, caught the train into the city from where we were staying in Ringwood, and gave the kids my Polaroid camera to play with. Each child had $10 pocket money to last them the day. Total cost so far? $28 (including the train fare off our Myki accounts).

When is a treat more than a treat? When it includes a train ride!

From Flinders St station, we hopped a train to Spotswood and walked to Scienceworks, where we spent at least 2 hours exploring, learning and playing. We ate our lunches outside in their amphitheatre and hit the playground, then spent more time in the section for smaller kids, giving Boo her fun. Total cost so far? $38 – Scienceworks cost next to nothing.

Unlocking the secrets of the universe.

Another train back into the city and we walked through the Royal Arcade off Bourke St to visit Suga. Suga is a traditional hard candy store that actually makes their candy out on display for people to see. The kids were allowed a sample each and used their pocket money to buy a sample bag to share. No cost there, they already had their money!

When you're 4, a playground is all the excitement you need.

We wandered around the city, taking in the atmosphere – the kids and I are mad for finding alleys with graffiti, and this time we even found graffiti artists at work! The kids had a blast in Federation Square taking photos of birds, passers-by and trams on Flinders St. Tired now, especially with me being 5 months pregnant, and knowing we had to drive home after reaching Ringwood, we jumped back on the train. By the time we reached Ringwood Station, the kids had only spent $2 each of their pocket money and had spare to save and the whole day all-up cost Husbeast and I around $50 total. 

I'm a sucker for this kind of thing - Photographer's paradise!

We do trips like that anytime we’re in Melbourne, finding cheap or free things to do either just as a family or with friends. My kids always take a film camera of some sort, and I take my digital one. They always remember these excursions and talk about them for months – the trip I’ve talked about was a year ago and Bozo still talks about it everytime we see him!

Why bother spending money on showbags full of junk? It’s fun to spoil the kids occasionally, but so often it’s true what they say – ‘The Best Things in Life Are Free’!

I’m linking up with Ann at Help!! I’m Stuck for Things I Know, and Flogging my Blog at With Some Grace today. Happy Friday!

Just a Few Hours

I experienced Mummy Nirvana on Saturday. 

At 8am, I jumped out of bed, did my makeup, got dressed, jumped in the car….and left my kids and husband at home. For 5 hours.

It….was…BLISS!

As mums, I know we’re not really meant to admit that running away is our fantasy, but be honest, occasionally we all have that dream of being single and kid-free. Saturday was the closest I’ll ever come to living that dream, and I’m not ashamed to say that I loved every second of it. 

Here’s the honest to goodness truth: I went out to do the groceries. A few months ago, Husbeast and I did the sums and worked out that if we go to the nearest major shopping town 45 minutes away and make use of Aldi, the green grocers and she bulk butchery, it’s cheaper even with the travel costs than doing our grocery shopping at the local Woolworths, so these days we head there a minimum of once a fortnight. Normally, we all go together on a Sunday, but after two weeks of school holidays I’d had about enough. I needed a few hours on my own, and so Husbeast was on parenting details with no choice.

For those curious, I wrapped it up in the big pretty bow of ‘the Easter Bunny needs to finish shopping and he can’t do it with Boo watching’. Why yes, I am a genius.

I wanted to play my music loud in the car and sing at the top of my lungs. I wanted to buy clothes, and browse Priceline for a few choice makeup items. I wanted to be the one picking Boo’s clothes without her arguing and wanting trashy crap I wasn’t willing to pay for. I wanted so badly not to change a nappy, make a bottle, have an argument or say ‘No, I’ve already said no to that!’ for just a few hours! Is that so wrong?

Apparently so.

I got Mummy shamed for my time away. The disgruntled Aldi guy (why are they so damn sour? The get it better than a LOT of other supermarket workers!) asked why I looked so happy to be grocery shopping. I told him that I was relaxing and having some kid-free time and got told (by the lady behind me) that ‘your children are a blessing, be thankful for them and not for being without them’. It took all my strength to reply with a reserved ‘they’re spending time with their Daddy so Mummy can relax.’

How very dare she? When did being a mother mean I ceased being a person with needs? Why can’t I have, and relish, a few hours away without being made to feel guilty? My kids were safe and looked after, Husbeast was happy to be with them and I needed that time out. It recharged my batteries so I can be a good mother for another few weeks.

What I wanted to say to the lady and her opinion was ‘Go fuck yourself. Until you live my life don’t you judge my choices, how dare you?’ I wanted to detail the assorted school holiday tantrums, the teething, crawling, standing and falling dramas, the ins and outs of separated parenting and my manipulative, slightly unpleasant stepson and make her understand that my job is hard as fuck and I deserve a rest. But I didn’t. Four years ago, as a very young, very single mother, I would have. But now, I know that her archaic opinion doesn’t matter. She’s from a different time, and it’s possibly a very, very long time since she was a stay at home mother. Likely she never had step-drama or chronic illness and me unloading on her isn’t going to open her eyes or mind, it’d just waste my breath and upset me. 

Instead, I took a deep breath, said ‘thankyou’, paid for my groceries and came home to love on my kids and husband. And as I drove home, singing at the top of my lungs, I reminded myself of one thing:

It’s not selfish to take a few hours for yourself. It’s necessary.

It's Tuesday and I'm joining up with Essentially Jess for I Blog On Tuesdays. Pop over and read a few of the other awesome blogs linked there!

FFS Friday: Booby Bitching

Diddy is feeding C O N S T A N T L Y ...FFS

I don’t mean a feed every few hours... I mean 5 minute snacks so that each feed lasts 2 hours and they all run into one another...FFS

This would be fine, except the past 2 weeks have been school holidays, meaning Boo home all the time wanting things like food...FFS

Husbeast devised a plan – put out ALL her snacks at the start of each day and let her help herself when she’s hungry... No FFS

This was a fantastic plan until we realised that 4 year olds have no self control...FFS

She ate everything within an hour...FFS

5 minutes later, ‘Mummy, I’m starving’... Mofo FFS

Despite the constant feeding, thanks to my darling tiny girl being a lazy sucker I’m fighting a constant battle with blocked ducts...FFS

She’s 6 weeks old. I’ve had 3 bouts of the dreaded mastitis...FFS

Breastfeeding may be the best option, but it sure as shit isn’t the easiest...FFS

Luckily, I managed to score the mother of all breast pumps on eBay yesterday...No FFS

Someone else fought me like a demon to get it, but I won! ... No FFS

I may, however, have neglected the tiny screaming human for 4-5 minutes while I battled it out...FFS

Told myself it was better for her in the long run...FFS

My boobs hurt...FFS

We’re roadtripping to Melbourne to see one of my favourite friends this weekend...No FFS

And to buy the baby things our little corner of the world doesn’t seem to bother getting – ANYWHERE...FFS

3 kids, 3 hours in a car with no AC, Boo’s DS is dead... FFS

Bozo is going through a phase of antagonising me, his stepsister and everyone around him...FFS

I swear to God, I'll leave him on the side of the road...FFS

I’m stressing that Diddy won’t sleep in a strange house...FFS

Likely she’ll sleep the whole damn night while I lay awake stressing that she’ll wake at any second...FFS

Wish me luck! FFS!!?!

Linking up with the fabulousness that is Dear Baby G.

My First FFS Friday!!

This is an idea I can definitely get on board with!! Joining up with Dear Baby G to get a little whinge off my chest (so I can be a more upbeat bitch the rest of the week)

O’s first day of Kinder comes and goes. L and I go to pick her up, and as I pull the car out I ask ‘How was your  day?’ like the excited Mumma I am. She chews her hair and replies ‘I want Daddy’... FFS

Everytime I got anything like motivated to do anything, my blood pressure plummeted to new depths and my vision went all fuzzy (without involvement of vodka)... FFS

While O was playing with her new Barbies and the dollhouse which is more amazing than any freaking dreamhouse, she found a box from one of the Barbies and complained that she doesn’t have a Barbie car. I’ve been informed she needs one...FFS

Tried to call Centrelink (who can bite me) to rectify the fact that I’m no longer receiving ANY financial assistance at all, through no fault of mine, since they never sent me the forms to reapply for Parenting Payment and thus cut off not only PP but Family Tax Benefit... FFS

After 5 redials and 4 engaged signals, finally got through to the automated verification BS system, only to get the giggles – note to self, reading Parental Parody and attempting Centrelink contact are not tandem activities. Was subsequently cut off... FFS

O spent 5 minutes standing across the lounge room waving something at me saying ‘Mummy I found this!!’ I kept squinting at it, but couldn’t get up so I finally coaxed her into coming closer, thinking it was a misplaced diamante. The speck on her thumb turned out to be snot, which I only realised when it was shoved down my shirt... FFS

My wireless decided to crap out on me, causing panic. No wireless, no network at all...FFS

Reset the modem and, when that didn’t work, restarted the laptop. Still nothing doing... FFS

Realised (after giving up and resigning myself to using the hotspot on my phone) that I’d knocked the wireless button on my laptop to off...Oh FFS

The playroom that I spent 4 hours cleaning last week (in the process knocking myself beyond exhaustion and into bedrest) is already teetering on the edge of chaos again...FFS

And L goes home today and won’t be around to do half-assed cleaning attempts anymore...FFS

And O gets the concept of pulling toys out, but no matter how much B or myself beg, plead, threaten or bribe, cannot yet grasp putting them away...FFS

This means I’ll be forced to take her Lalaloopsy collection and deal with the OCD fit when she can’t play with them...FFS

L has apparently lost any ability to think independently. I’ve spent the whole of Wednesday having to spell out the simplest of instructions. L is 9... FFS

He suddenly has no shorts, no jocks and no t-shirts. I have none of his clothes in my clean or dirty clothes piles, and he swears they aren’t in HIS room...FFS

Fairly sure he’s hoarding dirty clothes in the crap retirement village... FFS

Going through the DVD collection for a movie to cut the bedrest boredom, and find Coyote Ugly. Do a quick mental double take and conclude I have never bought Coyote Ugly. This means it must have belonged to B pre-relationship. Is he gay?...FFS

Coyote Ugly is softcore porn. Maybe not gay, but still...FFS

B has used some of the money we got as a wedding gift to buy Jason Mraz tickets so we can have a small honeymoon in March... No FFS there!

When I asked him if he knew why Jason Mraz was so special not only to me, but to us, he said no...FFS

My walk down the aisle and our first wedding dance both happened to Jason Mraz songs. And we only got married 2 weeks ago...FFS

My husband pays no attention to the small details that make my life bareable... FFS

But still.... Jason Mraz tickets!! YAY! 

SO MUCH FUN!! Join me for a little ranting?

My Stepson's Bedroom is Where Crap Comes for Retirement

I give up. We’ve had L for 3 weeks of the 6-week school holidays, and during that time I have asked, pleaded, demanded and chucked hissy fits in an effort to get him to cull his toy stash. Why yes, yes I am the stepmonster from hell and no... I do not care.

We moved into this house in May of last year. The house has 4 bedrooms. 3 down one end of the house, and one small one off the lougeroom. When I say small, I mean narrow and quite tiny and closed in. We decided this would be L’s room for several reasons:
1. He is 9 years old. He’s getting too old to be in a room that shares a wall with his father and stepmother’s room. Trust me on this one, no-one wants him there. Him included.
2. The room may be small, but during the majority of the year year he’s here weekends only (sometimes every second weekend). How much time, realistically, will he spend in it?
3. At his mother’s, he shares a room with his 6 year old sister. This teeny tiny room is still a step-up.
4. I refused to relinquish the bedroom next to ours for him. It is the baby’s room. It has an attached ‘sleep out’ which I use as a photography studio and it has a window in the door so I’ll be able to work and monitor baby at the same time.

All of these reasons are totally viable, and L loves his room. He has O’s bunk beds (god knows why) so it’s like living in a fort. However, the top bunk, which when O used them housed some precious stuffed toys and a shelf with her ‘pretties’. Now the top bunk is crap storage. Underneath the bed is crap storage. The cupboards and drawers I arranged in there for clothes are all crap storage, as are the toyboxes and his desk.

I wonder if Mama Berenstain threatened to throw her kids' DS out the window if the room got messy? It works!
Image Source

Don't get me wrong. The room is something resembling tidy, because he has the fear of God and Stepmother struck into him. These is a sign on his door detailing the infractions for which he will have to pick the pieces of his DS up off the road. The room is tidy, because the crap is hidden.

L's Face whenever I suggest culling
Image Source

Before we moved, I was talked out of flinging a metric f*ck-tonne of toys I believed to be too young for L or too broken for usefulness, with B telling me it was up to him to go through his own toys and clothes and get rid of what had to go. Not a week has gone by since that I haven’t sent him back to his room to TAKE OFF THE THREE SIZES TOO SMALL T-SHIRT. I’ve ranted and raved and made piles of too-small clothes, which L then rescues and shoves back in his drawers.

Since Christmas, I’ve become increasingly aware of how many toys he has. Not because he’s playing with everything he got for Christmas. Because almost everything he got for Christmas has spent the ENTIRE SUMMER HOLIDAY sitting in its’ original boxes while he’s spent 2 hours a day playing with magnetix he's had since he was 4. He has 2 toyboxes and 4 sets of drawers/cupboards FULL OF TOYS! 

Everytime I rant about this, he and his father spend 20min in his room. He cries crocodile tears and his father gives up. I throw my hands up in a huff and try very hard not to scream.

Every so often, B gets daring enough to bring up how many toys/books/clothes O has. Snarly bitchwife takes the time to snarl sweetly point out that not only does O live in this house FULL FREAKING TIME,  but she plays with ALL her toys. She may not have seen something in a month, but she’ll get a random hankering for it and drag it out of its’ toybox for a good deal of lovin’. I’m sure at her Daddy’s house she has half the toys she does here (and if she has an many as she has here, not my issue) but for the amount of time L spends here, he has an inordinate amount of crap, and that is my issue.

The only upside to the realisation that all the crap exists, and is in no hurry to leave my house? I’m not going to feel the guilt for Christmas and Birthday this year. We spent a stupid amount of both our kids for special events this year just gone, and the reality of how much plastic shit ended up in our house has hit home. In 2013, we’re living simply. Clothes, books and PJ’s, one or two special toys MAYBE. But covering my whole lounge room in packages on Christmas eve, and not being able to move for unwrapped presents and wrapping paper on Christmas day? The adding to it with whatever my family buys them? HELL NO.