Let's start off by saying I like hugs. A lot. I think there's a time and a place for hugs, and the world would be a sad place if there were no hugs. I like to hug friends I haven't seen in a while. I like to hug people when they have good news or sad news. But I think some hugs are weird.
On Friday night I went out to dinner with some people I work/worked with. It was great to catch up with everyone (well most of them lol), and it was a really pleasant night. The thing I thought was weird was that everyone had to go around the table and hug everyone when they arrived, and then there were big hugs again at the end. We are not a staff who hug every day at work, and few of us would say we are actually friends (there are some exceptions there so please, no hurt feelings lol). But my point is, why do we hug as if we are long lost best friends when we go out for dinner on Friday night, but tomorrow morning when we go back to work, I'd be considered a weirdo if I walked in and went for a cuddle with each and every staff member I came across during the day! I'm tempted to do it just to prove my point.
I understand the cultural thing of kissing on the cheek when saying hello or goodbye, but I think this huggy thing is completely different, and weird.
That's all.
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Sunday, 13 November 2011
All the small things
This last week or so has been frustrating. There have been a couple of Big Things that have happened that I can't talk about publically (yet) (ooh does that make me sound all mysterious?) but mostly it's been a series of small things. Here's just a few in no particular order.
Grill'd
We went to dinner at Grill'd to celebrate the Boy's successful start in toilet training. Hadn't been there before but it sounded good so we decided to give it a go. Ordered our food, found a table and waited. The chick brought out our food. All good except that mine was nothing like what I'd ordered. Pointed this out to her. She looked at me like I was on drugs and quizzed me on what I'd ordered as if she was trying to catch me out, then she finally realised I did know the difference between chicken and beef and took it back to get me a new one. Few minutes later, she brought out my replacement meal with a thousand apologies. All well and good - except this still was not what i'd ordered. There was no pineapple or cheese. We'd paid extra for pineapple and cheese. I wanted pineapple and cheese. Took it back and got a thousand more apologies. Then instead of simply popping a piece of pineapple and a piece of cheese on my burger, they took the chicken off, put it back on the grill, threw the rest of the burger out, then remade it. I couldn't understand this. If they have to remake the burger then why keep the chicken? So I went back to the table and waited while the Man and the Boy ate their dinners. When mine finally came out again, the Boy was jiggling like he had ants in his pants so the Man took him all the way into the mall to the toilet (they'd both finished their dinner by then anyway) while I sat there and ate by myself. Fun night out.
Mango
I bought a mango. They overcharged me. It was a Kensington Pride and they charged me for a Calypso (or vice versa, I can't remember). It's not so much the 50c that upsets me, it's that check-out chicks these days don't know their fruit and veg. Back in my check-out chick days, we were routinely tested on our knowledge of fruit and veg and I'm proud to say I always kicked ass. We even had to memorise all the codes - check-out chicks now just have to press a button. They have it much easier and still can't get it right. Hey I STILL remember some of those codes -pretty sure bananas were 1194 at one point, carrots were 1278 and an iceberg lettuce was 8891 (quantity: 1). I might add I stopped working as a checkout chick 14 years ago. When I went through the check-out at Coles today the lady in front of me had a telegraph cucumber. The check-out chick put it through as a Lebanese cucumber. I wanted to point out to her that as far as cucumbers are concerned, a Lebanese cucumber is about as different to a telegraph cucumber as they can get (except an apple cucumber which really is quite different). But I didn't because they would have thought I was weird. On a side note, did you know that seedless watermelon is actually a hybrid between watermelon and cucumber? Ahuh, yep, it is (or so I've been told). Cool huh. But yeah, the mango thing pissed me off.
Moshi monsters
My Nephew would like a Moshi monster cake for his birthday next weekend. It's my job to make this happen. Which is great, because I'd seen these cool little Moshi toys at Kmart which could go on top of the cake and save me trying to make them out of sugarpaste, plus he gets to keep tham after the cake is cut. Win for everyone. But nooo. When I went back to Kmart they didn't have any left. Bugger. So I went to Big W. They were sold out as well. Did you know there are about 20 different brands of little weird-looking plastic alien-looking animals on sale at the moment? And of course the little Moshis were the only ones sold out. So next option was the bigger Moshi figures. $20 for three of them. There are 6 Moshi monsters. So you have to buy 2 packs to get all 6. Not likely at $20 each. So I had to try to remember which one it was that the Nephew likes best. Made a guess. Preparing myself that if I got it wrong it may be The Worst Day of His Life and it will be All My Fault.
Drop off
Had to drop some stuff off to a Friend. Walked out of the house without it. Got to the car and remembered it. Went back in the house, got it, got in the car and drove almost all the way to Friend's house. Remembered other stuff I was also meant to bring. Drove all the way home, got the stuff, drove all the way back and dropped it off (ok so it was only a couple of suburbs away but that's not the point).
Cake board
I have to make a square engagement cake next weekend. Bit nervous about it but I know it will be ok IF I can manage to get a cakeboard the right size and shape. All the ones I have in stock are round. Can't put a square cake on a round board - it would be like putting a square peg in a round hole (lame joke, ok). Went to Spotlight the other day to get a square board. Surprise, surprise, they didn't have any. I'd almost be disappointed if I didn't get frustrated by a visit to Spotlight - it's just the way it is. So today I went to Urambi bakery to get one from there (they're more expensive but more reliable with sizes). Bloody bakery is closed on Sundays. Seriously?! Grrrr. Will have to see if Mum can pick one up for me during the week.
Cancelling cakes
On Thursday night I ran a baby shower for some ladies at work. Went really well, but half-way through I noticed my throat was getting sore. Hmm. Wondered if it was just from talking too much. By Friday morning I felt like shit. Headache. Sore throat, runny/blocked nose. The Boy was just the same. Spent most of the day in bed which was great. Unfortunately I had to cancel making two cakes and attending one event. I feel sooooo bad about having to cancel cakes when people are counting on me but I just don't think it's right to breathe on/handle fondant when I'm sick. Thank you to the friend who was understanding about it.
Being sick
I hate being sick.
Snoring
When the Man has a cold, the Man snores. The Man has now caught my cold, or as he put it "I think I've got the Man version of your disease". Last night it seemed like he purposely timed his snoring sessions in the quiet times between my coughing fits so I was guaranteed to not get any sleep. I'm tired.
There are some little things that make my day though, not all the small things are bad.
Free Stuff
When I went to Spotlight and got the dumb/distracted checkout chick, this time I wasn't overcharged. I was actually undercharged - she put my 3m of ribbon through at 30c/metre instead of $3 per metre, and she didn't ccharge me at all for two glass bottles. Score 1 to me.
Great Success
Just when I thought The Boy was going to be in nappies forever, things just seemed to have clicked and he's weeing in the toilet like he's been doing it forever.
Wonderful Mummy
Yesterday The Boy made my day by calling me "Wonderful Mummy", completely unprompted (this time) and right at a moment i needed to hear it. Made all the annoying and frustrating small things fade a little bit as I just took a minute to remember how much I love being his Mum.
Oh, there was one more bad thing.
The fly
A big fly bit me. Apparently I shouldn't have posted that on facebook but I did and I'm telling you here as well. It was a big-ass fly though. It hurt. And when I told my Mum she said "oooh, I hope it didn't lay eggs in you, I'm serious, that could be really bad." Thanks Mum. Now even if the Man isn't snoring tonight I'm still not going to get much sleep because i'm too worrried about dreams of maggots crawling around under my skin. Awesome.
(I'm waiting for someone to correct me on the fruit and veg codes)
Grill'd
We went to dinner at Grill'd to celebrate the Boy's successful start in toilet training. Hadn't been there before but it sounded good so we decided to give it a go. Ordered our food, found a table and waited. The chick brought out our food. All good except that mine was nothing like what I'd ordered. Pointed this out to her. She looked at me like I was on drugs and quizzed me on what I'd ordered as if she was trying to catch me out, then she finally realised I did know the difference between chicken and beef and took it back to get me a new one. Few minutes later, she brought out my replacement meal with a thousand apologies. All well and good - except this still was not what i'd ordered. There was no pineapple or cheese. We'd paid extra for pineapple and cheese. I wanted pineapple and cheese. Took it back and got a thousand more apologies. Then instead of simply popping a piece of pineapple and a piece of cheese on my burger, they took the chicken off, put it back on the grill, threw the rest of the burger out, then remade it. I couldn't understand this. If they have to remake the burger then why keep the chicken? So I went back to the table and waited while the Man and the Boy ate their dinners. When mine finally came out again, the Boy was jiggling like he had ants in his pants so the Man took him all the way into the mall to the toilet (they'd both finished their dinner by then anyway) while I sat there and ate by myself. Fun night out.
Mango
I bought a mango. They overcharged me. It was a Kensington Pride and they charged me for a Calypso (or vice versa, I can't remember). It's not so much the 50c that upsets me, it's that check-out chicks these days don't know their fruit and veg. Back in my check-out chick days, we were routinely tested on our knowledge of fruit and veg and I'm proud to say I always kicked ass. We even had to memorise all the codes - check-out chicks now just have to press a button. They have it much easier and still can't get it right. Hey I STILL remember some of those codes -pretty sure bananas were 1194 at one point, carrots were 1278 and an iceberg lettuce was 8891 (quantity: 1). I might add I stopped working as a checkout chick 14 years ago. When I went through the check-out at Coles today the lady in front of me had a telegraph cucumber. The check-out chick put it through as a Lebanese cucumber. I wanted to point out to her that as far as cucumbers are concerned, a Lebanese cucumber is about as different to a telegraph cucumber as they can get (except an apple cucumber which really is quite different). But I didn't because they would have thought I was weird. On a side note, did you know that seedless watermelon is actually a hybrid between watermelon and cucumber? Ahuh, yep, it is (or so I've been told). Cool huh. But yeah, the mango thing pissed me off.
Moshi monsters
My Nephew would like a Moshi monster cake for his birthday next weekend. It's my job to make this happen. Which is great, because I'd seen these cool little Moshi toys at Kmart which could go on top of the cake and save me trying to make them out of sugarpaste, plus he gets to keep tham after the cake is cut. Win for everyone. But nooo. When I went back to Kmart they didn't have any left. Bugger. So I went to Big W. They were sold out as well. Did you know there are about 20 different brands of little weird-looking plastic alien-looking animals on sale at the moment? And of course the little Moshis were the only ones sold out. So next option was the bigger Moshi figures. $20 for three of them. There are 6 Moshi monsters. So you have to buy 2 packs to get all 6. Not likely at $20 each. So I had to try to remember which one it was that the Nephew likes best. Made a guess. Preparing myself that if I got it wrong it may be The Worst Day of His Life and it will be All My Fault.
Drop off
Had to drop some stuff off to a Friend. Walked out of the house without it. Got to the car and remembered it. Went back in the house, got it, got in the car and drove almost all the way to Friend's house. Remembered other stuff I was also meant to bring. Drove all the way home, got the stuff, drove all the way back and dropped it off (ok so it was only a couple of suburbs away but that's not the point).
Cake board
I have to make a square engagement cake next weekend. Bit nervous about it but I know it will be ok IF I can manage to get a cakeboard the right size and shape. All the ones I have in stock are round. Can't put a square cake on a round board - it would be like putting a square peg in a round hole (lame joke, ok). Went to Spotlight the other day to get a square board. Surprise, surprise, they didn't have any. I'd almost be disappointed if I didn't get frustrated by a visit to Spotlight - it's just the way it is. So today I went to Urambi bakery to get one from there (they're more expensive but more reliable with sizes). Bloody bakery is closed on Sundays. Seriously?! Grrrr. Will have to see if Mum can pick one up for me during the week.
Cancelling cakes
On Thursday night I ran a baby shower for some ladies at work. Went really well, but half-way through I noticed my throat was getting sore. Hmm. Wondered if it was just from talking too much. By Friday morning I felt like shit. Headache. Sore throat, runny/blocked nose. The Boy was just the same. Spent most of the day in bed which was great. Unfortunately I had to cancel making two cakes and attending one event. I feel sooooo bad about having to cancel cakes when people are counting on me but I just don't think it's right to breathe on/handle fondant when I'm sick. Thank you to the friend who was understanding about it.
Being sick
I hate being sick.
Snoring
When the Man has a cold, the Man snores. The Man has now caught my cold, or as he put it "I think I've got the Man version of your disease". Last night it seemed like he purposely timed his snoring sessions in the quiet times between my coughing fits so I was guaranteed to not get any sleep. I'm tired.
There are some little things that make my day though, not all the small things are bad.
Free Stuff
When I went to Spotlight and got the dumb/distracted checkout chick, this time I wasn't overcharged. I was actually undercharged - she put my 3m of ribbon through at 30c/metre instead of $3 per metre, and she didn't ccharge me at all for two glass bottles. Score 1 to me.
Great Success
Just when I thought The Boy was going to be in nappies forever, things just seemed to have clicked and he's weeing in the toilet like he's been doing it forever.
Wonderful Mummy
Yesterday The Boy made my day by calling me "Wonderful Mummy", completely unprompted (this time) and right at a moment i needed to hear it. Made all the annoying and frustrating small things fade a little bit as I just took a minute to remember how much I love being his Mum.
Oh, there was one more bad thing.
The fly
A big fly bit me. Apparently I shouldn't have posted that on facebook but I did and I'm telling you here as well. It was a big-ass fly though. It hurt. And when I told my Mum she said "oooh, I hope it didn't lay eggs in you, I'm serious, that could be really bad." Thanks Mum. Now even if the Man isn't snoring tonight I'm still not going to get much sleep because i'm too worrried about dreams of maggots crawling around under my skin. Awesome.
(I'm waiting for someone to correct me on the fruit and veg codes)
Saturday, 15 October 2011
Thoughts about Floriade
Devastatingly Gorgeous Man (from now on he'll just be known as DGM) had to work today (like he does every Saturday). I wanted to do something fun with the monkey but didn't want to spend much money. It was a nice day so we (I) decided to go to Floriade. Here are some of my thoughts about it.
On parking...
Thinking about parking is what puts me off going to Floriade, Skyfire etc, any big "gathering" of people that will involve driving around for ages looking for a park, then having to get out of the carpark afterwards when there's lots of traffic. I get irrationally stressed by parking in general and usually only go to these big events if someone else drives. But today I bit the bullet (where does that expression come from???) and went. We got lucky after about 10 minutes of driving around looking and got a GREAT park. About as close to the crossing over Commonwealth Avenue as possible. Score. And it was an easy one to drive into as well, didn't have to muck around at all. YES!!! Great success.
Thing is when we finally got back to the car, some stupid dumb-ass had decided to park in part of the road that absolutely wasn't (and it was very obvious that it wasn't) a park. Right behind my car. Stress levels shot up. Got the monkey in the car and started stressing about how I was going to get out. Luckily a nice man stopped and guided me through it and I got out ok but I think it took a good 10 minutes for my blood pressure to come anywhere near back to normal. Contemplated leaving a note in the stupid dumb-ass's car (the window was open a couple of inches) but chickened out. (Slightly off-topic, DGM found 2 such notes on the windscreen of his car today because he parked so badly lol).
On flowers and the design of the garden beds...
Flowers are cool. Really, you wouldn't go to Floriade if you didn't find flowers to be somewhat interesting. After a while though, you wonder just how many more bloody tulips you need to see to consider the excursion to be worth-while. Or maybe that's just me. But anyway what gets me is the garden bed designs. There are these little signs telling you what the garden bed is designed to look like. For example "The raised garden bed represents the rounded wine bottle". Or "This garden is inspired by a red hot chili pepper (Looked nothing like Anthony Kiedis to me and believe me if there was ANY resemblance I would have seen it). WTF?? The only way you'd even know this is if you looked at it from space. Or possibly on the big ferris wheel but I wasn't going to shell out $14 for the monkey and me to go on it, so I can't tell you how it would have looked from there. Probably just like flowers.
On how everyone becomes a professional photographer at Floriade...
There's something about all the flowers that brings DSLRs out of cupboards all across Canberra (actually the whole world, probably, given all the nationalities represented there today). Everyone seems convinced that they are going to get THE BEST SHOT EVER of a tulip. Best. Shot. Ever.
Seen one tulip photo, seen 'em all, really. It's a tulip. If you want to know what a tulip looks like, google it and you'll find several BILLION photos of tulips. I want to go and ask these people what exactly they think they will manage to capture in their photo of a tulip that's never been done before, but that would be mean so I don't.
And then of course there's the "standing/crouching down in front of the flowers, looking really uncomfortable but hey, I need photographic evidence that I did actually attend Floriade" photos. Admittedly I tried taking a couple of these. This was the best one I could get.
(I'm so awesome at this blogging thing. It turned my photo around and I can't fix it. you'll just have to tilt your head or the monitor.)
On other people's kids...
My monkey is inquisitive and has spirit. My monkey loves to learn through doing and is confident enough to explore his environment without needing me to hold his hand all the time. Translation: my monkey loves to run away at any given opportunity. Yes, I took the pram. Yes he stayed in the pram for most of the time. I decided to let him out for a walk. He told me he was going to hold me hand. He lied.
He saw swans and ran towards the lake. I bolted after him, pushing the empty pram, and grabbed him just in time (given his history with water I didn't trust him to stop at the edge). Now as we then sat there watching the swans, several other kids came up. Some older, some younger. None of them looked like they were about to run straight into the water. They were all walking sensibly along, keeping a respectable distance from the edge of the wall. Is my kid the only one who doesn't do that?? I felt a bit better when one of the other kids got bitten by one of the swans though hehehehe :-)
On wearing sunscreen to Floriade...
You should. I didn't. :-(
On parking...
Thinking about parking is what puts me off going to Floriade, Skyfire etc, any big "gathering" of people that will involve driving around for ages looking for a park, then having to get out of the carpark afterwards when there's lots of traffic. I get irrationally stressed by parking in general and usually only go to these big events if someone else drives. But today I bit the bullet (where does that expression come from???) and went. We got lucky after about 10 minutes of driving around looking and got a GREAT park. About as close to the crossing over Commonwealth Avenue as possible. Score. And it was an easy one to drive into as well, didn't have to muck around at all. YES!!! Great success.
Thing is when we finally got back to the car, some stupid dumb-ass had decided to park in part of the road that absolutely wasn't (and it was very obvious that it wasn't) a park. Right behind my car. Stress levels shot up. Got the monkey in the car and started stressing about how I was going to get out. Luckily a nice man stopped and guided me through it and I got out ok but I think it took a good 10 minutes for my blood pressure to come anywhere near back to normal. Contemplated leaving a note in the stupid dumb-ass's car (the window was open a couple of inches) but chickened out. (Slightly off-topic, DGM found 2 such notes on the windscreen of his car today because he parked so badly lol).
On flowers and the design of the garden beds...
Flowers are cool. Really, you wouldn't go to Floriade if you didn't find flowers to be somewhat interesting. After a while though, you wonder just how many more bloody tulips you need to see to consider the excursion to be worth-while. Or maybe that's just me. But anyway what gets me is the garden bed designs. There are these little signs telling you what the garden bed is designed to look like. For example "The raised garden bed represents the rounded wine bottle". Or "This garden is inspired by a red hot chili pepper (Looked nothing like Anthony Kiedis to me and believe me if there was ANY resemblance I would have seen it). WTF?? The only way you'd even know this is if you looked at it from space. Or possibly on the big ferris wheel but I wasn't going to shell out $14 for the monkey and me to go on it, so I can't tell you how it would have looked from there. Probably just like flowers.
On how everyone becomes a professional photographer at Floriade...
There's something about all the flowers that brings DSLRs out of cupboards all across Canberra (actually the whole world, probably, given all the nationalities represented there today). Everyone seems convinced that they are going to get THE BEST SHOT EVER of a tulip. Best. Shot. Ever.
Seen one tulip photo, seen 'em all, really. It's a tulip. If you want to know what a tulip looks like, google it and you'll find several BILLION photos of tulips. I want to go and ask these people what exactly they think they will manage to capture in their photo of a tulip that's never been done before, but that would be mean so I don't.
And then of course there's the "standing/crouching down in front of the flowers, looking really uncomfortable but hey, I need photographic evidence that I did actually attend Floriade" photos. Admittedly I tried taking a couple of these. This was the best one I could get.
 |
On other people's kids...
My monkey is inquisitive and has spirit. My monkey loves to learn through doing and is confident enough to explore his environment without needing me to hold his hand all the time. Translation: my monkey loves to run away at any given opportunity. Yes, I took the pram. Yes he stayed in the pram for most of the time. I decided to let him out for a walk. He told me he was going to hold me hand. He lied.
He saw swans and ran towards the lake. I bolted after him, pushing the empty pram, and grabbed him just in time (given his history with water I didn't trust him to stop at the edge). Now as we then sat there watching the swans, several other kids came up. Some older, some younger. None of them looked like they were about to run straight into the water. They were all walking sensibly along, keeping a respectable distance from the edge of the wall. Is my kid the only one who doesn't do that?? I felt a bit better when one of the other kids got bitten by one of the swans though hehehehe :-)
On wearing sunscreen to Floriade...
You should. I didn't. :-(
Sunday, 9 October 2011
The obligatory "So this is my first post" post.
So this is my first post. (Ah ha ha yeah it had to be said.)
I started a blog just before the Wild Thing was born. I have no idea where it was or how to find it now, but to save us all the trouble of trying to find it (because I know you want to) I can pretty much sum it up - it had three posts in which I just moaned about how much I wanted the baby out of me.
Fast forward three years and yes, the baby finally came out (thank god).
I had big ideas of the sort of mother I wanted to be. Me in a long flowy dress, with my partner (a devastatingly gorgeous man of course) in a garden full of flowers, happily swinging our spotlessly clean, well-behaved child between us, laughing and enjoying the sunshine. Never getting cranky or frustrated.
The mum I really am isn't quite like that. The devastatingly gorgeous partner is there (suck up points: 1) but that's about where it ends. My child does get dirty, he picks his nose and presents me with his boogers. He does swing between our hands but that's usually when we're just trying to get him to go somewhere and he thinks that's more fun than walking (good thing he's small for his age).
The only flowers in our garden are clover and that's only because after working 6 days a week my devastatingly gorgeous partner (score: 2) is too tired to mow the lawn and I wouldn't have a clue where the lawnmower is let alone how to start it (and TBH even if I did know I probably wouldn't do it anyway because I have enough trouble keeping up with the housework inside the house let alone outside).
Yeah I do have some long flowy dresses but they're reserved for the days when my jeans are either in the laundry waiting to be washed, in the washing machine starting to smell because i've forgotten to hang them out, or wet out on the line because it's rained all week and the only times they would have been dry were when I was at work (the upside of that is at least the rain might get rid of the smell of being left in the washing machine).
And I do get cranky, and one of my child's favourite words is "frustrated". He learned it from one of the kids' shows on TV but I wonder why it seemed to strike such a chord with him. :-S
But I'm ok with it all. I love my big man and my little man and I wouldn't change them for anything. My child who proudly announces to shoppers in Target that "My Daddy has pink undies", and my man who tellos me he loves me even when I'm tired and cranky and look like I've been dragged through a hedge (well in my defense last week I had actually been dragged through a hedge. And a bush and several trees, but I digress...). They're my world and will probably feature a lot in this blog that probably no-one will ever read.
I started a blog just before the Wild Thing was born. I have no idea where it was or how to find it now, but to save us all the trouble of trying to find it (because I know you want to) I can pretty much sum it up - it had three posts in which I just moaned about how much I wanted the baby out of me.
Fast forward three years and yes, the baby finally came out (thank god).
I had big ideas of the sort of mother I wanted to be. Me in a long flowy dress, with my partner (a devastatingly gorgeous man of course) in a garden full of flowers, happily swinging our spotlessly clean, well-behaved child between us, laughing and enjoying the sunshine. Never getting cranky or frustrated.
The mum I really am isn't quite like that. The devastatingly gorgeous partner is there (suck up points: 1) but that's about where it ends. My child does get dirty, he picks his nose and presents me with his boogers. He does swing between our hands but that's usually when we're just trying to get him to go somewhere and he thinks that's more fun than walking (good thing he's small for his age).
The only flowers in our garden are clover and that's only because after working 6 days a week my devastatingly gorgeous partner (score: 2) is too tired to mow the lawn and I wouldn't have a clue where the lawnmower is let alone how to start it (and TBH even if I did know I probably wouldn't do it anyway because I have enough trouble keeping up with the housework inside the house let alone outside).
Yeah I do have some long flowy dresses but they're reserved for the days when my jeans are either in the laundry waiting to be washed, in the washing machine starting to smell because i've forgotten to hang them out, or wet out on the line because it's rained all week and the only times they would have been dry were when I was at work (the upside of that is at least the rain might get rid of the smell of being left in the washing machine).
And I do get cranky, and one of my child's favourite words is "frustrated". He learned it from one of the kids' shows on TV but I wonder why it seemed to strike such a chord with him. :-S
But I'm ok with it all. I love my big man and my little man and I wouldn't change them for anything. My child who proudly announces to shoppers in Target that "My Daddy has pink undies", and my man who tellos me he loves me even when I'm tired and cranky and look like I've been dragged through a hedge (well in my defense last week I had actually been dragged through a hedge. And a bush and several trees, but I digress...). They're my world and will probably feature a lot in this blog that probably no-one will ever read.
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