Time

There is never enough of it. Certainly not while there's a toddler in the house. Books don't get read, blogs don't get written, study doesn't get done, house remains a bombsite.

That's all.

What a way to go.

Today I had my first session of Intro to Epidemiology. It's a blah-type Public Health subject that has little to do with psychology but I have to do it, since it's part of the Masters in HEALTH Psychology. I was sitting next to my buddy, Nick. If I haven't mentioned Nick already, let me introduce you. Nick is tall, good-looking and athletic. The fact that he's studying a Masters in Psychology means one could reasonably assume he's intelligent as well. And a nice guy. What more could you want if you were like.. a 22 year old single girl in Adelaide?? Which obviously I AM NOT, but there you go. Now you know Nick.

So me and Nick are sitting in Epidemiology and the lecturer is discussing the difference between prevalence and incidence when it comes to disease. She's throwing up various tables listing all manner of diseases and death rates and statistics. Just as my eyes are glazing over, Nick leans over to me and whispers, "What's congenital malfornication?"

I study the table a little more closely, trying to find what he's talking about. Finally I see a line that reads "Congenital Malformation", so I lean back to him and whisper "Congenital Malformation??", and he whispers back "Malformation?". I give him a little nod and we both go back to concentrating on our notes.

A few seconds later, Nick leans back over and whispers "I thought it said congenital malfornication and I was seriously wondering what those people were doing when they were having sex. I mean... what the...? How were they...? What were they...?"

And we both giggled like school children.

It's a dickless...

That's what Annabelle told me in the car on the way home from daycare yesterday. "Oh Mummy. It's a DICKLESS! *giggle*". She said it several times during the evening. "This is a dickless. That's a dickless."

Of course, what she meant was ridiculous. :)

She's coming out with some pearlers lately. The other day when I was telling her off for something or other, she looked at me very sternly and said "You talk nicely to me please, Mummy. You don't need to make me sad." And when Mel and I were having a discussion in the car, she interrupted us from her carseat in the back: "Mummy! Talk nicely to daddy please. And Daddy, you talk nicely to mummy. Otherwise you will sit out." We weren't even arguing!! It does really make you think about what they're seeing/perceiving though.

In other news, I started uni this week. Proper First Semester type uni that is.. not wussy Summer School type uni. I cannot believe I have an assessment due in TWO WEEKS. Fark. No such thing as easing into it, then. I have NO idea how I'm going to juggle work and uni and I do think that I'm probably going to end up resigning. The trouble is replacing the income. On the upside, if I was just studying (not working) I could easily drop one day of daycare and spend it with my girl, which would be a bonus for both of us. We'll see. I decided to give it a couple of weeks to see how I'm tracking before I make any big decisions.

My big girl

Yesterday and today, Annabelle has asked to go to daycare in undies instead of a nappy. I think it's because all her friends are becoming toilet-trained and she's decided maybe it's her turn. Unfortunately, she doesn't really like weeing in the toilet, and this is a bit of a barrier to being toilet trained.. since toilet training, by definition, involves actually weeing in the toilet.

So yesterday, I waved goodbye as she was being very happily led by the hand to the toilet. I got a bit emotional worrying about her having an accident or being embarrassed or not wanting to ask the teacher for a nappy, but of course I had to leave her to it and trust the process. She's not the first kid to go through this, right? (though she does have a very strange aversion to actually weeing in the toilet...)

When I picked her up, she'd been in knickers all day and only had one accident. This was good news. However, she hadn't done a single wee in the toilet. This is not so good news. So the one "accident" she had all day was basically the one wee she had done all day. hmmmmm....

She'd been put in her 'home nappy' when I came to get her, which was fine and I know she did wees in that one, because she told me!! But this morning, she asked again to wear her undies. I don't want to put any pressure on her, but I am hoping this new level of interest in wearing big girl's undies might mean our nappy days are nearing an end.

I wonder..

... what it is about the human condition that makes people unable to tell the truth.

More pictures

My friend Lynett is a newcomer to my blog. She had a quick squiz through all the old posts and the only ones she stopped and looked at were the ones with pictures. Which I guess is what you would do if you had two years worth of posts to catch up on..! She also only read the short posts.

I took this as good feedback. People want short posts, with pictures. So from now on, there will be many more pictures. And short posts.

The End.

oh hang on... I forgot to add a picture...

(That's Lynett! :D)

[Whinge]

I hate sharing my office with a toddler. I don't like having to put everything up high enough for her not to be able to reach because... well, it's inconvenient. And there's no more room in the high spaces anyway.

I hate that there are no pens in my pen holder because if there were, she would take them and draw on everything in sight, including her own body, my desk and the keyboard.

I hate that I go through post-it notes faster than toilet paper. She loves post-it notes. I find them strewn over the office and the rest of the house. She also prefers my nice white printing paper than her own colouring books or any other paper I might be inclined to offer her.

I hate that there are no pens in my drawers. Or staples. Or paperclips. They are all in the high spaces. Very inconvenient. There are camera cords and cables though... and this is why I can never find the fuckers when I need them. But what to do? There's no more up-high spaces.

[/whinge]

My kid is a genius

I know all parents say that, but I really think it. She comes out with stuff that blows me away. Mel says all the time "Mensa, I'm telling you. She's mensa".

I shall be back to regale you with tales of her smartness and then you can all leave comments about how your kid is smart too and we can secretly compare our kid's smartness and I'll say "oh wow, your kid is a bright one too" and in my head I'll be thinking "but not as smart as my kid. Heh."

Knowing she's a genius makes me feel much better about the fact that she refuses to toilet train.

"Our Song"

Ever since Annabelle was tiny, Mel has held her and danced to this song. As she grew, she would instantly recognise it when it came on the radio and her eyes would light up. Now when she hears it, she demands to be picked up for a dance (and man, she's heavy!) She calls it "Our Song" and she practically can sing all the words. She's TWO!

A couple more...