misadventures in parenting//the vomit diaries

Life has been a tad crazed these past months. Death in the family & death of a furry friend. Sickness and then some more and then sickness, sickness, everywhere. This post isn't about death and it isn't about swine flu. This is about vomit...

I feel the same way about vomit as I do about poop and periods. Shouldn't happen and if it does, please, lets not talk about it to any lengthy extent. Seriously, I beg of you. I am not good with bodily functions and, yes, sometimes I do ask myself -- so why the kid? Because kids poop a lot! And when they get sick they vomit and I had a girl so, yes, one day there will be periods. I am equipped to handle the period talk and I was fine with the baby poop but this vomit thing. Man, I'm never going to get it down.

When Bailey gets sick she vomits. 

She had a viral infection and she vomited for an entire week long. And, sure, I had swine flu at the same time so I had to stay away but, also, I just can't. Seeing her retch makes me cry. I just can't handle it. Also, the act of someone vomiting makes me dry heave. I'm not productive to be around. So Husband handles the vomit and I take care of the snuggles after. But I still hate myself for my lack of anything remotely productive in this area. 

Cue a week later, when you get a call from your kid's school that you need to come pick her up because vomit, well...

I walked into the sick bay and there was my kid, all forlorn, and covered in carrot chunks. The chunks had bunched at the feet and it was like she'd stuffed her shoes with vomit for extra comfort or something. She'd vomited in front of her entire class. On the carpet. And here she was all carrot-chunky and my first instinct was to laugh because I'm just that good in a crisis. But, also, it felt like her pores seeped vomit and she only wanted me to hold her and, maybe, I definitely, cringed a bit.  But then I picked up my vomit-laden child who was very sad about having to leave school and I was one-on-one with vomit and carrot chunks and I survived.

But, also, if there's one thing that nobody tells you about parenting it is this --

Washing vomity clothes is really bloody hard and you think you've rinsed all the vomit out and then chuck the clothes in the machine and life is all fine and dandy. But once the machine stops and you open it up you realise your mistake because the vomit is like pasta and it's quadrupled in size and then you're left scooping vomit out of a washing machine like a damn fool.


what's in a dream...?

Recently I had a dream that while I slept my Husband put sperm in my ear and as I continued to snooze the sperm traveled into my brain. When I awoke I had transformed into a Sperm Zombie and in order to survive I had to eat {drink?} sperm. I don't know why I am even saying/writing this because this is the dumbest/grossest thing I have ever heard but, also, my dreams are always really weird but this is by far the weirdest.

People say that your dreams have meaning and all dreams can be interpreted and I shudder to think what this dream means because sperm tastes gross.

While I'm glad that my brain finally gave me a night off from the dead-Minnie loop I don't really appreciate the sperm munching.

What even is that?

I guess on the upside {?} that if Sperm Zombies do exist and they are trying to take over the world one sperm munch at a time you were warned...


friends as family

Remember that really lame quote: friends are the family you choose for yourself? I think I first heard it in primary school and I thought it was the lamest thing in the world but, also, yes please. I used to dream of the day I could pick my own family because I just didn't fit in mine.

I've been thinking of this a lot lately. Sometimes it makes me sad. Mostly it makes me happy.

I still roll my eyes at the quote and I still think it's kind of lame but, also, Husband, B. and I are so darn lucky that we have a great group of wonderful friends who are our real family. We might not be related but we truly love and care for each other. They love B. as if she were their niece.

We have people who care about what happens to us, who care when we're sad or mad {or bad?} and actually value Husband and I and what we have. They ask about my anxiety and depression. They check in and see if I'm okay and they don't punish me when I drop off because I'm not. 

We have family. We just chose them for ourselves and I feel #blessed that I have people in my life I can talk to when life is hard. I am so proud that we have people who are proud of Bailey's accomplishments, who actively go out of their way to ask about her, about our health and our happiness. And I'm so over-the-moon glad that reciprocating these things is never a chore, or eye-rollingly nauseous. That I don't cringe when I receive a text or call from them. That how they feel about me/us is how I/we feel about them.

And that, my friends, is family to me.


friday five//random life snaps

Well, I sure am glad that this week is over. Sure, it's been wonderful but when your week starts with the over-hanging taunt of your child devastated, well, it ain't going to be the best is it? Still, I am amazed with how resilient my child is. How she can be devastated by a statement and finish it with ...well I am awesome! and then get up and play, consoled by the fact that their loss is her gain. I love that about her. And now, to the five things -- random bits & bobs from this life --

Last weekend Husband went out for dinner with friends. After said dinner he had money leftover and, so, the very next day he popped out and surprised me with my very own Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. I love that weirdo. I'm not so biased toward hardbacks when dust jackets are removed to reveal such awesome. But now I'm scared to read it just in case it's terrible...

This Typo awesome pin from Husband. Wore it last night. Someone asked me in all seriousness if my name was actually awesome...

I decided I needed a new planner. This polka-dotted cute personal planner from Kikki-K fit the bill perfectly. The box it came in is equally as divine.

{psst -- also this vanskap planner refill and the dashboard kit in the same collection {find in store} -- love}

& this yay all day card also from Kikki-K. The lady threw in a vision board/inspiration pack from one of their old collections. This one is my favourite.


new buys

I am currently using the Too Faced Bulletproof Brows {not worth linking, don't go there} and like everything Too Faced it is lacking and disappointing. I have a wedding coming up soon and am insistent on doing my own face for it {remember this orange story?} so a new brow product was necessary. So off B. and I went. We toddled into Napoleon and tested this product out. Instant love {though the lady who helped me kept insisting I buy the brow pencil even though I told her I detested their brow pencil. Lady, just leave it alone!}. 

Anyway, there's two powders - a taupe and brown and a wax. You also get some mini tweezers and a mini double-ended brush for defining and taming brows. Initial thoughts -- wonderful, luxe packaging and well worth the $49 price tag.  

Is my hand really hideous or what? Some swatches, a misshapen claw and some hideous photography skills. Sweet Escape is a peachy pink and super creamy and glossy. Flirt is a pink matte but still feels creamy. For $9.95 {each} they seem wonderful and on Sportsgirl lipsticks I have only heard wonderful things.


feeling the hair loss...

It's pretty common knowledge that one side-effect from pregnancy is hair loss and, man, as soon as I popped that baby out {why is that a "thing"? what baby just pops out?} my hair went to shit. I've always had thin hair. It's always been lovely and shiny/healthy and I've never had to fork out the big bucks to make my hair manageable/soft/smooth/etc but thin hair has its drawbacks. I rarely get that lovely hair commercial bounce and sometimes I'd love some Blake Lively lush.

Anyway... hair loss after giving birth sucks but it's nothing compared to what's happening now. My hair is quite literally falling out all over the place. I touch my hair and bunches of hairs fall into my hands. I wash my hair a few times a week. I brush it {okay, I brush it sometimes}. I care for it. But my hair is falling out in horrid clumps all over my house and clothes. I'm sweeping my bathroom floor multiple times a week. The amount of hair that falls out during a shower won't even fit down the drain. When I touch my head I can feel the places in which the hair is no longer. What is happening?

This new development seems to coincide with starting my new crazy pills earlier this year. Sure it helps the anxiety/depression/ptsd/ocd and I rarely want to die but my hair... everywhere. I know hair loss and stress are correlated but, ugh, I'm crazy. I can't help it!

So what's a girl to do? Because I can't do bald.

Any tips? Suggestions? Love?

Am currently using a strengthening shampoo and conditioner which helps a tad-ish. Vitamins? Help!


the family snuggles

I once read a story about this group of kids and their mum. If you were to be playing at their house, strangely, one-by-one each kid would disappear for half an hour after another had returned. As I was reading my heart quickened and I started to feel off. What was happening to these kids? Scared, I hurriedly read the end which revealed that for thirty minutes a day each child had to have snuggles in bed with their mother. I cringed because it felt weird and wrong to mandate things such as snuggle time and then it hit me...

we are that family.

It happened on Sunday. I came out to the lounge room and mumbled something to Husband. In response to my mumbles he suggested snuggles and as we were on the way to our bedroom I called to Bailey that it was "snuggle time". She came running in, squealing in excitement, and snuggled up in the middle of our bed. Along came a dressing-gowned Husband and there we lay, all snuggled up together.

I love these moments and they're certainly not mandatory but we are this mother aren't we?

We're the family who snuggles together...


click & i'm in love//caroline hirons

Hello, I am obsessed with Caroline Hirons. Help. Or, actually, I'd really rather you didn't because Caroline is awesome. I look at her/watch her/stalk her and think man I wish she was my mum/my friend/could do my face. I am scary/weird I know. But, also, Caroline is just that good.

She's funny & informed. Witty & gorgeous. Laid back & amazing. 

& her videos with Ruth Crilly a.k.a A Model Recommends are the best thing that has ever happened to the Internet.

You're welcome. 

Stalk her {but don't actually stalk her because that's illegal and really rude}.


friday five//yer a wizard harry!

Since I'm only now coming out of this Swine Flu induced hazed I am yet to read The Cursed Child. I know I know. But, also, B. and I went shoe shopping last Saturday after I finished work and I went to pick up the book but it was only in hardback. I am not a hardback fan but, alas, alack, I feel as though hardback is the only way this is going to go. My brain is currently only focused on all things Harry --



10 Cloverfield Lane -- I think I speak for a lot of people when I say that if the film had of ended where it should have ended then it would have been great. As it stands, the movie is not great because the ending is shit. If I close my eyes and squint really hard I can try and pretend that the movie ended with John Goodman and then, yep, I loved it. But aliens? Really? Ugh!

Orphan Black -- I'm torn between loving it and it scaring the crap out of me and not being able to watch. Is that a normal reaction? It's good -- freaky good -- but the stuff that happens to the little girl makes me feel sick to my stomach and I just can't. Or maybe I can...? I don't know. Thoughts? Worth it?


new buys//love & loathe

this adorable cat eye mask|sportsgirl -- cute & comfy. Love.
garnier ultimate beauty oil -- this stuff seems lovely but it burns! It burns and itches. Loathe.
maybelline fit me! dewy & smooth -- so wonderfully dewy & smooth {wonderfully apt name huh?}. Love.
natio -- primer {wonderful -- love}, radiance foundation {lovely at first but it seperates on the skin -- love & loathe} & a bb {great coverage & finish but a tad orange-streaky at times -- love & loathe}


being mum//parenting regret

For the most part I don't really believe in regret. I think everything can be a lesson and I think the good and bad aspects of life help us grow into better people. Regret is, for the most part, useless but, look I'm human and I have sore spots. Most of my regrets in life are related to being a parent. Here's a few --

1. B. was born in a public hospital which I was fine with then and am still today. However, going public, I think, has its drawbacks and this was a big one for me -- the midwives. They just didn't give a shit. Every single one I encountered was rude, heartless and really bad with their bedside manner. I was yelled at for not being able to talk properly during the last stage of my labour {pain be damned}. Bailey was forcefully removed from my arms after she was born because I looked "too tired" to be trusted to hold her {I was actually wide awake and hopped up on endorphins}. When B. wouldn't breastfeed they refused her formula until she'd gone 12 hours without eating anything. During her first feed {a bottle} I was told I wasn't allowed to feed her because the midwife, mockingly, teased that I'd drop her and refused to listen to my objections. 

All of this made me feel pretty shitty. It actually still does. Sure, midwives practice "tough love"  but, gosh, my time in hospital with B. {luckily only 2 days including the birth} was really fucking crap. I hated every second of it and I hated every single midwife. Of course, my regret comes from not standing up for myself. I knew I wouldn't drop my baby {I was lying down in bed, hello!} and I knew what she needed. Yet, I was too terrified that they'd turn around and take her away from me that I sat there and said nothing.

My biggest parenting recommendation {and trust me, I don't have many} is that you stand up for yourself. Do what is right for you and your baby and fuck everyone else. Yep, midwives included. 

2. I have always been an organised person but when B. was born I became crazed. I purchased a baby specific planner and wrote down everything from feeds to nappy changes to naps. Every fucking thing. I hated it. It stressed me out more than anything and only made my anxiety worse. For a weeks I decided that writing down everything made me a better parent than actually being present did. And I freaked out if I couldn't remember if she fed at 11.20 or 11.21. 

Eventually, Husband, B. and I went away for the night and I left the planner behind. The week before I had told Husband I was stressed and needed a break so we booked an impromptu one just to give me a break from the planner. When we got back I dove straight back into writing everything down and instantly felt my stress levels rise. A few days later I threw the planner away and never looked back. Of course, I still had anxiety but all that insane went away as soon as I put the pen down and just listened to myself and to B. Bliss.


So, yup, regret... I know it's not doing me any good to hold onto these things but I do. I can't seem to let that hurt from the midwives go {it bubbles occasionally} and that damn baby planner makes me shake my head every time I think of it {honestly what was I thinking?}

& I'd love to hear some of your parenting fumbles if you care to share...


friday five//bits & bobs for boo.

These past few weeks have been ridiculous in all the worst ways. Swine flu combined with the normal flu {yes, really}, viral infections and other such nonsense. Vomit. Tears. Tantrums {mostly from me}. Also, horrid companies that deem it necessary to only respond to issues if Husband speaks to them {what is that about?} and the loss of our beloved Sam-Wise {we miss him terribly}. If there's ever been a time where retail therapy is so very needed it is today.


the adulting blues

Does anyone else have a really hard time adulting? I kind of feel as though I'm just never going to come to terms with the fact that I am an adult. The fact that I'm going to turn 29 in a few months doesn't seem to matter because adulting is hard and, to re-use a Bailey original, it's horrible and it's got spiders in it.

Why must I decide between paying off debts and buying an Olaf onesie? Why is one more important than the other? Look, I've tried and I do have good "adult" days but for the most part I'm going to pick the Olaf onesie every single time because Olaf onesies are essential to ones survival. 

I don't want to be an adult. Rules and routine and finances and disciplining your kid is annoying. Adults make Facebook Groups for their kid's kindergarten class and update it with crap like "Today is Tuesday! Tuesday is library day! Don't forget to return your books!" and I'm like ugh while everyone else seems to be like yay and I just don't get it. No, I shan't be that boring and/or dedicated to my child. I can't possibly. 

I feel like adults also complain on said Facebook Group page about their kid not being invited to another kid's birthday party. I just want everyone to shut up, get a grip on reality and worry about more important things like Olaf onesies and can you find your kid a matching one?

Do adults not like onesies? Is that the issue?

Do I have the brain of a two year old? Am I insane? What is happening here?


pretty beautiful//lóreal paris nude magique cushion foundation

This cushion-y beauty is my new favourite foundation. I also detest it with a passion. Confused? Me too. 

L'Oreal Paris Nude Magique Cushion Foundation -- such a trendy little thing that actually lives up to the hype but it quite literally lasts a few weeks that I'm not sure it's worth the unadulterated pleasure. 

The texture and finish are lovely. It's liquid-y but not too runny. Glowy and provides a lovely coverage. It's like a BB but better. I adore it and think of it often. But, look, a good foundation needs to work for you and that includes your face and your bank account. Sure L'Oreal isn't too expensive but if the foundation only lasts a few weeks {when used 2-3 times a week} then what's the point? Can you imagine spending $30 every 3-4 weeks? Or is that something perfectly reasonable? What say you?

Because I love how it makes my skin, seemingly, glow from within and stay hydrated but I don't enjoy repeatedly having to buy something every month because it just doesn't last. How much product is actually in the thing? Certainly not $30 worth right?

I'm torn.

So, like I said -- I have a love/hate relationship with this foundation and I can't decide if it's like my Husband and worth all the cons because of the outweighing number of pros.

Regardless -- here's some cushion-y tips:

one. don't you dare use it with the sponge that comes with. Use a Beauty Blender or a stippling brush {or your fingers at a pinch} but not this silly thing. Chuck the sponge {or give it to your kid who doesn't know any better} and live normally please.

two. start with a light layer and build to the coverage you want because it can look shiny/greasy if you use too much.

three. the product sinks into your skin and blends well which is deceiving -- make sure to keep an eye out for streaks and blend a bit why don't you?


You can pick up the cushion-y goodness in a variety of shades {I am, of course, the lightest} at your nearest Priceline store or online -- find it here


that married life//going ringless

Hello my name is Jaye and I am a ringless married person. As if that's a thing. As if it matters. But, apparently it does and apparently people care a lot. I don't expect people to just guess that I'm married because that's dumb but being ringless isn't an automatic sign of not being hitched. A ring doesn't make a marriage.

I am not a bad wife for not wearing a ring. I have my own version of a material symbol for my marriage and I don't care what anyone else thinks. Still, I find it frustrating that I am "unusual". I am not "unusual" or "weird" or "unhappy". I am, quite simply, unwilling to fit into society's box of what a wife should look like. And if there's one thing to know about me it is this -- if there is something that society deems as the "done thing" I am going to do the exact opposite.

I am stubborn and I don't like being told what to do. This is the case for many things and wearing a wedding ring/s just happens to be one. I'm never going to slip into a cliched stereotype because that's completely hideous to me. If being a "proper wife" or "happily married" means wearing a ring because people expect it than I'd rather be divorced, thanks.

Of course, I'm completely obnoxious. I hate most people. I hate that we live in a world where people go along with stupid stereotypes rather than knocking them down or ignoring them all together. So you won't catch me complaining about being a parent, or bitching about my Husband for not cleaning properly or any other insipid crap. Aside from the fact I hate the maintenance and diamonds, wearing wedding rings is just another extension of this. Everyone does it and it's really bloody boring. 

Also, I've come up with the perfect reason when people ask me why I don't wear a ring and it goes a little something like this --

well the random guys I give blowjobs to don't really feel comfortable with the ring on so it's easier to keep it off.

And then, after this you get strange looks and people never really speak to you again so win, win. 



You know when life just feels like you struggling to not let the tide pull you under and carry you away? Of gasping, salt-water filled breaths. Of tears and scream filled panic attacks. And it's not anything large in particular. It's, simply, lots of small scattered fragments that continue to shatter as the days stretch into weeks and just as you feel slightly normal again it all goes pear shaped with carrot chunks and vomit.

Currently this is my life.

When life gets hard everything feels monumental and as if I'm going to break at any second. And, yet, being confined and really in it with Husband and B. feels like the breath of fresh air we so desperately needed.

I'm not sure when it's going to feel like I'm not drowning anymore. Right now I feel surrounded by bubbles of water and I feel suffocated by my inability to breathe. Life continues around me and I feel as though I'm failing at every single thing. Motherhood included. Do you ever feel that way? Because quite often it feels like I am the only who sucks this badly.

Right now I want air and light and cupcakes and I dream of normalcy. 


misadventures in parenting//the discipline hangover

I have a problem. I hate discipline. It's boring/horrible/has spiders in it. But, apparently, being a parent means being responsible and authoritative and, sometimes, it means your kid needs discipline and, man, I wish someone had told me all this before I got knocked up. It seems like a nice thing to know, you know?

But seriously, obviously I knew I'd have to discipline B. but I didn't know it would be this hard/boring/horrid. But it is. Discipline is the worst and, look, I'm still a kid myself and I just don't wanna! Obviously, I do and sometimes I'm really quite good at it but afterwards I'm stuck with the most obnoxious discipline hangover and it lingers and makes me so eye-rollingly eye-rolly and I hate it.

My kid is usually amazingly wonderful and I very rarely have to do anything too "parent-y" but, look, sometimes I have a kid who refuses to sleep because she's scared so you give in and are lenient but then you realise, some nights, you can spend 2 hours at her door or in the room with her waiting. And you realise, maybe, that the kid is taking advantage of you so you have to put your foot down. I hate putting my foot down. I like my foot slightly raised and carefree okay?


mental health//the crazy list

Sometimes it feels like I have fifty-hundred mental issues so I have resorted to just classifying them as "crazy". My "crazy pills". Having a "crazy day/moment/life". I know, I know... But, look, it doesn't make me feel bad about myself {it actually helps make it feel fun almost} and I don't call anyone else crazy, so let me have this one okay?

Lately, I've been feeling kind of like being "crazy" is ludicrous or, well, even more ludicrous than usual and, so, I've started writing a list of everything that brings about an anxiety attack, panic attack, some lovely depression or a ptsd flash --

1. Going to the dentist. I had my teeth cleaned and the combination of not being able to move and having fifty things in my mouth {lol} and not knowing what was happening caused me to freak the fuck out. I couldn't breathe, could barely walk. So I kind of collapsed into the car and just started scream crying. Fun.

2. Having a facial. Enclosed room. Hot room. Someone touching me. Lying still for an hour. Not having anything to occupy me. Soothing music that was anything but. Addition of eye treatment didn't help. Never again.

3. Not being able to spend money.

4. Spending money.

5. Crowds -- why won't everyone go away? Am I going to die?

6. No crowds -- where is everyone? Am I going to die?

7. Customers yelling at me at work.

8. Boss reprimanding me at work.

9. Boss not reprimanding me at work -- what's going on? Am I dying?

10. Repetitive noises.

11. Mess.

12. Anything too neat.

13. Bad handwriting {my own}. 

14. Mistakes in my planner.

15. Nothing to do but relax.

16. Too much to do.

17. Having to reply to a text from someone bar a handful of people.

18. Make a phone call.

19. Answer a phone call.

20. A voicemail.

21. A missed call and no voicemail.

22. Husband in the car alone.

23. Me in the car with Husband.

24. Husband and Bailey in the car without me.

25. Driving.

26. Driving in the rain.

27. Dead animals on the road.

28. Thinking of dead animals on the road.

29. Thunderstorms.

30. The idea of thunderstorms.

31. Taking the dogs for a walk.

32. Not taking the dogs for a walk.

33. Having to go get blood tests for my liver because my crazy pills deem it so.

34. Making doctors appointments.

35. Avoiding doctors appointments.

36. Therapists.

37. Not seeing a therapist.

38. Loud noises I can't control.

39. Soft noises I can't control.

40. Strangers screaming at their kids.

41. Strangers threatening to beat their kids.

42. The library.

43. Any kind of market.

44. Elevators.

45. Escalators.

46. Not being to do what I want to do the second I want to do it.

47. The unknown.

48. Waiting.

49. Not getting enough sleep.

50. Getting too much sleep.

51. Not getting enough time with B. or Husband.

52. No alone time.

53. Not being able to move freely under a blanket.

54. Being over heated.

55. Being too cold.

56. Being itchy.

57. Not being able to have a shower whenever I want.

58. Not being to have a cup of tea as soon as I need one.

59. Waiting for tea to cool.

60. Falling asleep.

61. Waking up.

62. Hurt animals in TV/movies.

63. Idiots on social media.

64. The idea of disappointing people I love.

65. Having to make a decision.

66. Not being in control of every single decision.

67. Change.

68. Nothing changing.

69. Husband being too busy at work.

70. Going to bed alone.

71. Going to bed with someone.

72. Being touched. 

73. B. sleeping.

74. Not being able to protect B. every second of every day.

75. B. at school.

76. The idea of B. growing up recklessly. 

77. Stupid people.

78. Sadness for no reason.

79. Sadness for all the reasons.

80. My head telling me horrible things.

81. My head being empty.

82. Too much caffeine.

83. Cold sores.

84. Being sick.

85. Bailey sick.

86. Death.

87. Things not going my way.

88. Having to sit still.

89. Having to just do one thing like watch a movie and not doing a few other things at the same time.

90. Having too many things to do like watch a movie and having other stuff to do as I watch.

91. Crooked books on a bookshelf.

92. Board games that aren't perfectly lined up.

93. Food/cans in the cupboard/fridge that aren't arranged correctly.

94. Money issues {duh!}

95. Bailey crying because it breaks my heart and sends me into an anxious spiral.

96. The wifi being down.

97. Not having my whole week planned out.

98. Having my whole week planned out.

99. Husband being too nice.

100. Not being in the near vicinity of chocolate.


Fun, right?