At iVillage we’re passionate about supporting Australian parenting bloggers. That’s why we’ve created iBlog Friday.
It’s a chance for bloggers to introduce their favourite post of the week to iVillage readers.
Here are the bloggers who have sent their submissions this week. Happy reading.
There was a moment a few weeks ago when I realised something. I think it was as I caught sight of myself in the mirror doing an impromptu song and dance routine to distract one child from screaming for cake and the other from breaking the stereo. My hair was crazy, my clothes were disheveled, I had no idea what was coming out of my mouth and the pots on the stove were surely about to explode. To say I looked ridiculous is an understatement. That’s when it hit me – I’m a flippin’ one woman circus.
Read the rest of Susan's post here.
If you've ever attempted to wrangle a toddler, this is for you. Even knowing one would probably be more than enough to appreciate the sentiment.
There's something about toddlerhood that makes a Mumma burst with admiration, cringe with frustration, and scratch their head in bewilderment simultaneously. The impulsive inflexibility. The intense emotionality. The dependent independence.
Read the rest of Rebecca's post here.
As Son #1 approached his first birthday and took his first steps I thought “Ooh, is he becoming a toddler now?” and spent the next few days re-reading all the baby-to-toddler developmental material.
Second time around, I don’t need to look at the calendar. Son #2 will celebrate his first birthday soon but I’ve recognised the warning signs of impending toddlerdom for some time.
Read the rest of Rebecca's post here.
Normally I can roll with the punches but lately life has been putting in some extra hours at the gym and the blows have left me tired, battered and bruised.
This is not a state of mind I like and am not comfortable with it being a permanent house guest. So, today I decided it was time to spring-clean the mind and take out the trash in an endeavour to entice hope and happiness to re-claim their residence.
To this end, I put in motion 5 things I knew would guarantee this outcome.
Read the rest of Kathryn's post here.
Read the rest of Caylie's post here.
My issue is that the one child I was determined to have was supposed to be a baby girl. It always has been, ever since I was a little girl myself. I had dreams of my own little one, with ribbons and curls and pretty dresses with flowers. Little shoes with frilly socks and hair that I could braid. I just assumed my dreams would be answered. When we were newly pregnant with G Man, I had a few dream outfits bought and hidden, just case he was a girl. Perfectly sweet little dresses with matching pantaloons, decorated with smocking and lace. I hid them in drawers, not even hubby knew they were there. I thought I was prepared for the scan to go either way, but when we found out G Man was a boy, I tried desperately not to let the scanner lady see the tears slipping silently down my face. Hubby held my hand and saw them though, and although he was delighted at the prospect, he knew it was not the news I expected.
Read the rest of of Lisa's post here.
Several hours later, I lay in a hospital bed for the first time in my life. My parents had just left, and I was sobbing, that hiccupping crying, where you can’t get any words out. Two nurses walked into my room. The younger nurse told me not to worry, that she would hold my hand whilst I had an injection of insulin. The older, scarier nurse told her, “No you won’t. Jane is going to give it to herself”. I hated her in that moment, but after I had successfully given myself my first injection, I stopped crying. I was so proud of myself, I skipped down the hall to excitedly call my mum, and tell her that I’d done it all by myself.
Read the rest of Jane's post here.
By the time my little man came back to me in the hospital, he had been fed formula for three days. There was no choice. I just felt like as long as he was fed and nursed back to health, that’s all that mattered (he had my infection too). He was still on antibiotics just like me, but he was doing better than I was!! I was encouraged to express whenever possible for the milk to come in. Nothing really happened (despite my colostrum coming in very early in my pregnancy). I was stressed. People kept intruding when I tried to pump my breasts. There was no privacy and I couldn’t do it without hearing yet another well-meaning midwives’ opinion on it. I was feeling immense pressure as every nurse who started a new shift (I was in hospital 6 days) kept giving me a new lecture and new breastfeeding instructions.
Read the rest of Keri's post here.
When my kids were born they were the sweetest little things, they smelt divine, they curled up on my chest, grasped my finger and made my heart melt. But they did not sleep. Apparently some do, from day one I have heard, not mine. The fatigue is hard! I remember days of being happy one minute and crying the next; rocking a baby at midnight thinking I cannot possibly survive another 24 hours, and everyone snapping simply because everyone needed sleep!
Read the rest of Bianca's post here.
To enter iBlog Friday send your submission to [email protected].
We will be posting all the blogs we receive in a round up every Friday morning so make sure we get your blog by Thursday at 12 noon.
Produced by Jay-Z, the soundtrack includes songs by Beyonce, Florence + The Machine, Gotye, Lana Del Rey and Bryan Ferry.