Toddler: “Daddy is doing really well with his toilet training.” Me: “Really?” Toddler: “Yep. He did a wee on the loo this morning. He reeeeeeeeaaaallllllly wants to be able to wear big girl knickers.” Right then, that answers my question of what to get the husband for Christmas
Achieving a perfectly shaven leg whilst 9 months pregnant is easy! Try to ensure you’ve had minimal sleep due to pregnancy insomnia, then just follow these simple steps: Set toddler up with Pre-approved snacks, music and butterfly wings. Get in shower, wedge bum into one corner and foot into diagonally opposite corner. Try not to fall sideways. Realise neither soap nor razor can be reached from this position. Place razor between teeth and soap under armpit, and re-wedge body. Drop soap. Swear. Retrieve soap and resume wedged position. Lather leg. Explain to toddler that you can’t fix her butterfly wings right now. Get out of shower and fix butterfly wings. Get back in, resume wedged position, re-lather and quickly shave leg in a slap-dash, devil-may-care manner, using both right and left handed swipes with the razor. Re-wedge body into diagonal position to lather the next leg. Explain to toddler that you can’t take the label out of the back of her t-shirt right now, but that you’ll get the scissors and cut it out after …
I’ve often had lyrics wrong (was astounded to discover it was “she’s got Bette Davis eyes”, not “she’s got better taste in guys”, for example), and my two year old looks to be firmly on that same path. For the last few days she’s been reciting “little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet, eating her turds away”. Is it a mark of my immaturity that I haven’t corrected her yet?
Reading. I love it. Can’t get enough. Unless something is on TV. So I was thrilled when Amy got on the book bandwagon and loved having a story read to her from quite early on. My “hurrah! My child enjoys books!” enthusiasm waned somewhat when she got to the stage where she would demand the same ones over and over and over and over and over again. One day, whether it was borne from sleep deprivation or just a desire to amuse myself, I started to search for hidden meanings and messages amongst the brightly illustrated pages. And I FOUND them. I’ll leave the Hairy Maclary series alone, because that lovable scamp and his mischievous furry friends are National Treasures (having said that, Scarface Claw needs to be neutered, and I’d call dog control if Bitzer Maloney or Hercules Morse were free roaming on our street… Bitzer looks a bit bitey, and Hercules is as big as a mother-fugging HORSE). It’s the 1970’s favourites where the real windows to the dark side of humanity reside. …
(Originally published in the May/June edition of NZ Little Treasures Magazine) With the memories of a nightmare flight with Tilly still causing me to break into a cold sweat, I vowed to never fly again until our children were old enough to be reliably distracted by entertainment. Then a chance arose to go on a short, child-free holiday with my sister-in-law and nephew (adult, totally self-sufficient and non-tantrum-throwing), and we tripped over ourselves in our haste to agree to go. I was ridiculously excited about the actual flight and wouldn’t shut up about how I was going to eat a meal while it was hot, watch a current movie, and go to the toilet all alone without a baby climbing up on my lap nor a three year old standing in front of me demanding we count how long my wees go for. I could barely fathom thoughts of sleeping in a hotel bed right through the night, in clean sheets that I didn’t have to launder. As for choosing activities without a thought for …
(Originally published in the March/April edition of NZ Little Treasures Magazine) It’s possible that parental affection combined with the passing of several decades had made memories fuzzy, but apparently I was The Best Ever Travelling Baby. Having heard family stories such as “the time we landed in Singapore and all the other passengers gasped in surprise because they had no idea there was a baby on the plane” and “the time you slept all the way to Hawaii”, I hoped my own babies would inherit my magical travelling gene. With a small degree of trepidation, we took Amy on her first long-haul flight when she was six months old. Six months: that magical age where they still sleep quite a bit and can’t move anywhere by themselves. The ratio of adults to children was 4:1 (we flew with my parents), we had a bassinet, three massive carry-on bags of books and toys, and even though we went through every single change of clothes thanks to reflux, I chalked the mission up as a success. So …
(Originally published in the Jan/Feb edition of NZ Little Treasures Magazine) When both my daughters took an early shining to solids (Tilly actually flung herself from my lap, face-first, into her big sister’s mashed potato at 4.5 months, and Amy’s first tentative sentence was “more yum-yums!”), I thought we were off to a cracking start and would soon be eating as a family, every night. Then a few curve balls got in the way… Dinner Is So Early! If you’re bedding by 7, and factoring in time after dinner for bath, stories, cuddles, and even the most low-drama of pyjama putting on, you rapidly run out of evening. Both my girls descend into meltdown mode if they’re not loading their tummies by 4.55pm on a good day, so week-night dinners are often simply too early for all family members to be present for. Mess! Amy and Tilly both discovered the joys of eating and blowing raspberries simultaneously. It’s astounding how fast and far pureed pumpkin can fly from a baby’s mouth. Tilly insists on waving …
I’m Casey McPike, New Zealand mum to two little girls, who give me a run for my money every minute of every day (and most nights). I knew everything there was to know about kids until I had my own. My co-pilot Jeremy, and cross-eyed, toothless cat Frankie are along for the ride as well. Besides the parenting gig, I also keep myself busy as the Marketing Communications Manager for Citta Design (where I have to try VERY hard not to spend all my money on beautiful things), and freelance writing. Sometimes I dabble with the idea of running a marathon, but binge-watching Netflix gets in the way a bit. Follow me http://www.facebook.com/mcpikelets on Twitter and Instagram @mcpikelets
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