Children make me happy...

Today's post comes from someone that needs little introduction as she is awesome, both for her work as a child behaviour consultant and for the what she shares on social media and her blog Easypeasykids. I was lucky enough to connect with Nathalie in person when I was down in Melbourne for a blogging conference and we had a gorgeous day making each other laugh in between the occasional tweet and instagramming of toes. Her post today is exactly like her: wholehearted, LOL funny and inspirational all at once. Enjoy. 

What makes me happy?

Children make me happy, and I have the great fortune to work with them everyday. The

world through their eyes brings happiness to the simplest of moments. They make me

laugh out loud, help me see the bigger picture and they show me that a happy moment

can be anything that makes them feel good inside.

These are the moments that they have shared with me that make them happy. It really is

the simple things.

Mr 5 “When I wipe my own bottom and don’t get poo on my back”

Miss 4 “When mummy blows raspberries on my tummy”

Mr 7 “Having pop off competitions with my brother”

Miss 8 “When I read a hard word on my own”

Mr 9 “Playing footy with my mates especially went it’s muddy”

Miss 6 “Snuggling on the couch with dad watching TV”

Mr 8 “Every time my mum says I love you”

Miss 5 “When my mummy reads to me”

Mr 6 “Digging for worms”

Miss 6 “When mum says I can jump in a puddle”

Mr 10 “When dad plays minecraft with me, he’s not very good but I don’t care he’s with

me and we laugh at how bad he is”

Miss 3 “Kisses on my nose”

Mr 4 “When mummy chases me like a big monster”

Miss 9 “Being with my dad, he makes up not very good jokes but that makes them even

funnier”

Mr 11 “Mum’s hugs although I’m older now, her hug makes me feel on top of the world’

Miss 7 “Singing in the car with mum, we pretend we are Divas. I’m not sure what a Diva

is but it must be something great because mum loves doing it and it is so much fun”

So keep looking for those happy simple moments, they are there. Make your kids laugh;

a child’s laughter is the tonic we sometimes need to get through the next hurdle. Ask

your child what makes them happy; you may be surprised at the simplicity of their

answer.

Nathalie Brown x

www.easypeasykids.com.au

www.facebook.com/easypeasykids

@easypeasykids

pinterest.com/easypeasykids/

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Human Connection

I struggled so much with the choice to return to work, especially fulltime given I had two gorgeous toddlers, but what I found in my new role at Adshel were people that you only dream about working with. I feel assured now that I am a better person and indeed a better and happier mum from knowing and working with some phenomenal people. One person in particular has had such an amazing influence on my life, and she has kindly agreed to share what makes her happy. I think you will see from her words how wholehearted her approach to life is and how inspirational she is to those lucky enough to cross her path. 

Every night this month I have thought about what happiness is and have after 17 days realised that happiness for me is all about people and moments I've shared with someone this month:

• Chatting to my sister for 1.5 hours on the phone about anything and everything and laughing a lot
• Driving home on a Sunday with my husband and feeling enveloped by the love of a great man, content and complete
• SMSing with my Goddaughter about The Voice and some of the singers
• Chatting with my son about our day as we make dinner together
• Helping my beautiful mum pack up 25 years of her home and breaking the back of her sense of overwhelm
• Listening to my 11 year old nephew tell me about his latest school project on mouldy bread and his dreams to do well in a cross country race the following day
• Finding just the right birthday card to send to an old mate that is guaranteed to make her laugh
• Sharing the ache in my daughter's heart as she shares news that her ex has a new love interest
• Feeling a silent heartfelt connection just with a hug
• To notice in a fleeting moment of silence in the home that my aching daughter is singing & humming once more. She will be okay my beautiful warrior woman
• Hi-fiving when a complex work challenge ended on a high note
• Knowing something I have done has made a difference to someone else
• And lastly, having a lovely long black delivered to my desk and realising I had missed that person around the office for a few days and the importance of their presence

Joanna x

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Is everyone's hubby a pørnstar?

Recently a very intelligent man was on TV, I stopped faffing about on Twitter to listen as he was asked, “Do kids ruin marriage?” Without a second thought he responded “I can tell you for free, not having kids [myself], you can still not have sex” Hold the phones! I thought we were talking about marriage?

I’m glad Joe Hildebrand jumped automatically from happy marriage to frequency of sex because now I can stop calling my husband a pørnstar. He’s not a pørnstar, he’s just a normal bloke. Like many p€nis-possessors, my husband interprets any word, phrase, action or movement as something to do with s€x.

Consider an innocent hug, in the hands of a male it quickly turns into a crash tackle against the kitchen bench. A bend over to pick up a toy is a screaming invitation for a dry run. Getting changed into your PJs is really you saying “Want to play with these fun bags?” while he øgles unashamedly. And reaching for your drink at dinner is a blatant request to touch one of them.

And if your thought actions spoke louder than words try these phrases out on your special pørnstar, I mean man.

She says: Pass the sauce please
He hears: Blah blah you’re a saucy thing blah blah

She says: Can you put out the garbage?
He hears: Blah blah I put out blah blah

She says: Have you heard about that job?
He hears: Blah Blah blah bløw job blah blah

She says: Isn’t it hot today?
He hears: Blah blah you’re so hot blah blah blah

She says: Can you turn on the hose?
He hears: Blah blah I love getting w€t mmnnn blah blah

She says: You are so rude!
He hears: Blah blah get me nµde blah blah blah

As Billy Crystal once said “Women need a reason to have s€x. Men just need a place.” Basically whatever you do, as it filters through the male brain it usually pops out as an invitation for s€x. You could be swinging a cat at a funeral and you’d hit a bloke ready to shag you in the aisle in front of the coffin.

In the end Joe hit the nail on the head, so to speak, as kids don’t ruin marriage. The rating difference between males and females is actually to blame. Somewhere between his constant R-r@ting and her preferred G-rating falls the growing divorce statistics.

So girls, if you need a hug, want a conversation or have to bend over make sure you’re only in the presence of females. And blokes, another wise man – this time Steve Martin – once said “Don’t have s€x, man. It leads to kissing and pretty soon you have to start talking to them.”

In conclusion there’s a reason most stallions are gelded.....ouch!

This initially appeared on JustB Australia as "Thinking with their little head" on October 5th, 2011

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FAT MEN, PRESSIES & LIES. I Love Christmas!

One photo I won't be showing the boys!

One thing that seems to roll out as a big concern every year is how commercialised Christmas has become. I used to be a raving looney, I mean born-again Christian, and so I remember that originally Christmas was a holiday to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, but like many today, the Son of God is more likely to pop up throughout the year as a phrase I prefer to my other favourite “For eff’s sake!” 

So being such a disrespectful, blaspheming pagan, should I stop celebrating Christmas? Probably, but instead I am doing the opposite. In fact I am throwing myself into buying gifts, like the demon, that probably is possessing me as we speak. 

I have fallen hook, line and sinker for Santa and his reindeer, there will be a carrot left out for Rudolf, and some sort of stiff drink for the fat man himself. I am going to lie to my children about a whole lot of things and forget to mention a whole lot of other details, like how the chimney is blocked AND about a quarter of the size of the man that is going to come down it with a huge bag full of presents, including a trampoline. I am going to wheel out another implausible explanation I remember being told, when my 2yo inevitably asks me why he’s seen more than one Santa in one day, that is “they are his helpers”. (I didn’t fall for that one Mum and Dad, as much as I didn’t buy the sanitary napkin being described as a foot band-aid either, the adhesive would stick to the wound, hello?!) 

Anyway my point, if I ever get to it, is does it really matter that Christmas is commercialised? Isn’t it just marketing people taking advantage of us needing only the smallest excuse to buy the people we love presents? Giving and receiving and unwrapping and eating lots and playing games and talking about fake fat people that live in the North Pole making toys all year, do we really want to stop all that because it is not based wholly on the original meaning of Christmas? In any case if we are to become up-in-arms shouldn't it be because Santa Claus and Jesus Christ are both equally as fantastical as each other? At the end of the day, or year in this case, the only truth is these are the things we like to do and yes retail does benefit, but we do too.

And why not? We work hard all year so we deserve a bit of unadulterated, meaningless fun. And before you judge me as a vacuous party girl, consuming through life, I think there is meaning at Christmas. It may not be religious, it may not be based on anything that can or can’t be proven but it is a time to give to those you love, to those that have less than you, and to yourself.

Of course we need to be cautious with our spending and not over do it, I would never advocate giving beyond your means, and it shouldn’t be about dollar amounts in any case. It is truly the thought that counts, that is unless you are a complete scrooge, you know who you are. 

And I know that spending time with my husband and me will always bring more joy to the boys than anything I could buy, but I am addicted to their smiles, I'm in love with their laughter and I dream about their happiness. So if I get to give them both time and presents then BONUS! I have the means and so judge me if you like, because I am a big lying, spending Christmas sucker. 

On Christmas day I'll probably be passed out next to a fat man in a red suit (aka Dadda), all that toy-making (trips to various shopping centres) and flying around the world (fighting for car spaces), delivering pressies (wrapping, sneaking, wrapping, tying and more wrapping) and eating cake (cooking, ordering, preparing) catches up with you, you know! 

Merry Christmas everyone! (& apologies to all my gorgeous Christian friends!)

Where will you end up this Christmas?

 

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MUMMY'S FUNKY FRIDAY: Fly through the air

Carrie clearing her head on a Trapeze near New York. Image copyright: HBO.com

It seems that Summer’s coming twice this year after a return to Winter over the last week. When the 5 days of clouds parted today I put my scarf and boots away again (I hope for the last time this year) and breathed a huge sigh of relief. The warmth reminded me again that getting out in to the fresh air is like therapy for everyone, especially couped up toddlers going stir crazy, while their Mums lose their mind.

There are a few ways to stave off rainy week insanity, one is of course to read this blog, two is spend a small fortune on a mental health professional and a third is to do something daring you normally wouldn’t do. This Funky Friday why not show Carrie Bradshaw up and fly on a Trapeze.

The Sydney Trapeze School has set up its' outdoor trapeze rig in the Brazilian Fields of Centennial Park and are there until Sunday February 19. But wait for it, they have Mums and Bubs classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays 10:15am-12:15pm! The cost seems to be around the $55 mark for one session.

Nothing like hanging upside down, flying through the air and falling on your head to clear the damage a week of crying and whinging has done to you, and it may stop the kids screaming too or at least turn them into squeals of delight.

Don’t worry if you are not in Sydney there are outdoor trapeze setups all over Australia, here are some links to start you off. 

Circus Arts, Sydney Olympic Park Aquatic Centre, Olympic Boulevard, Homebush (Also Byron Bay, Cairns and Ballina)

Flying Trapeze Centre, Melbourne

Cirque Espace, Novotel Twin Waters Resort, Sunshine Coast

SkyHigh Trapeze, Perth

Go fly!

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OUR FIRST KISS

Rodin's "The Eternal Idol"
Sketched by love-obsessed 25 year old me.

I sketched this in Vienna when I was 25. I was sitting on the floor of a Museum, as you do when you're a backpacker. It felt like my whole life's dream was encapsulated in this beautiful Rodin sculpture. I had left my then-boyfriend to travel for six months (which turned in to three years) and so my heart was aching as I drank in the lust this depicted. I obviously wasn't that heartbroken though as only days later I ran off to Bruges with a very hunky American. What? I was confused and besides the boyfriend ended up being a completely deluded, selfish git masquerading as a snag, so thank goodness I didn't save myself for him.

In fact ever since my first kiss 10 years earlier, I'd been in love with love. It was at a summer party and I don’t even know how it happened, I was sitting on this guy’s lap and next thing you know we were snogging and with tongue! It was divine, and as I closed my eyes I'm sure I saw stars (that had nothing to do with the alcohol consumed of course).

I actually think that kiss more than any Hollywood movie was the reason it took me so long to find 'the one'. From that moment on I judged the potential of every relationship by the first kiss. This was so illogical, not that kissing is logical at the best of times, but most of my best kissing had been with the biggest bastards on earth, and really that was all they would good for. A good pash and then see you later really. But for some reason I forgot this as my knees turned to jelly and my imaginary world clouded out any sense of reality. 

Think I might give my hubby a snog when he gets home as feeling a little inspired, not sure it will be quite the same with toddlers attached to both legs, but I'll give it a go.

What was your first kiss like? 

Did it turn you into a pashing bandit like it did me?

©MyIdeaLife, 2011, All rights reserved

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He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it" CB Kelland

My Dad is one of those men who don’t speak much and I’m not sure whether that is why he is so popular or whether it is the easy confidence he exudes, but to know him is to love him. And who was I to buck a trend? The truth is I absolutely idolised him as a child in a way only a daughter can. 

My poor mother was so excited to be having a girl (I have one older brother), someone she could pass on feminine knowledge and ways to, but I turned out a terrible tomboy and was often found under the car with Dad as he showed me how to change the oil or the like. If I wasn’t holding the makeshift electric light over the engine of the car, or passing him a wrench, I was standing on a wooden crate in Dad’s workshop watching him build whatever contraption was needed for that day’s project.

And if you saw this place, inconspicuously hidden under the front verandah, you’d understand why. It was literally a man cave in an epic way with every type of tool you could think of. With the twin wheel grinder and industrial sized clamp front and centre, there were draws of screws, washers, nuts and bolts; every type of spanner, wrench, hammer; and every kind of scrap material from flyscreen to soft lead sheets used to make fishing sinkers of varying sizes. We didn’t need Bunnings in those days, all we had to do was go to Dad’s workshop and whatever you needed was there.

Mum was not a fan of the workshop, it was organised chaos and more than a little bit dirty. And those are two of Mum’s mortal enemies. But I’d venture to say the workshop was just another thing that took him away from her. He was a shift worker for his contracting business and if he wasn’t working, he was fishing, playing his double bass in a ‘70s nightclub or in his dark workshop. I used to long for him to come home as there was definitely not enough Dad time for any of us, especially Mum.

So today, in a time when Mothers still play the primary role in the life of their children I wondered whether it was fair that Father’s got a day, “shouldn’t they just get an hour, it’s good enough for the earth”, I half-seriously considered. Then I thought of my Dad and how he had taught me what electricity is, how to change a tyre, how to hammer a nail so it didn’t bend, the nature of different metals, how to saw wood so the teeth don’t get caught and how to make useful things from whatever we had lying around. And I realised his ever-present patience and generosity to spend hours teaching me things that in the end inspired me to complete a degree in Industrial Design, deserved to be celebrated for longer than an hour.

Even now as I watch him with my two boys I see the same patience and imagination he shared with me, revealing itself again, and like many before them, they can’t get enough of him (only last week Crash, who’s only 11 months old, cried when I took him from his Pop!). 

So despite him being around less when I was young and being much more reserved in the way he showed his love, I knew I was loved and accepted as just me, and not just accepted but adored and empowered. Thanks Dad, Happy Father’s Day.

Why does your Dad deserve to be spoilt all day long on Father’s Day?

©My IdeaLife, 2011, All rights reserved

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