When a Pet Dies

I thought we'd share an email we were sent about a heart warming act of kindness by a stranger who helped a broken hearted child, when they beloved pet died. Children have such a strong bond with their pets, more than we can imagine at times, but when they die, the heartbreak is something as parents we need to help our children through.
One mother decided to help her 4 year old daughter write a letter to God to look after their dog Abbey. She never expected an answer!

So here's the email, you might need a tissue though!

Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died  last month. The day after she died, my 4 year old daughter  Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey.  She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey  got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I  thought we could so she dictated these words: 

Dear  God, 
Will  you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with  you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me  have her as my dog even though she got sick. 
I hope you will  play with her.. She likes to play with balls and to swim. I am  sending a picture of her so when you see her You will know that  she is my dog. I really miss her. 
Love,  Meredith 

We put the  letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and  addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it..  Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope  because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter  all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the  letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if  God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He  had. 

Yesterday,  there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch  addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand.. Meredith opened  it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies..'  Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to  God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture  of Abbey & Meredith and this note: 


Dear  Meredith, 
Abbey arrived  safely in heaven. 

Having the  picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away. 
Abbey isn't sick  anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your  heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our  bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture  in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you  to keep and have something to remember Abbey by..

Thank  you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping  you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you  have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every  day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy  to find, I am wherever there is love. 

Love, 
God 



Wow! how something kind of wonderful is that!, it blew me away reading this email, albeit with a tissue in hand. A stranger at the postal dead letter office went out of their way to ease a broken hearted child, a blessed soul!


We lost our faithful dog Pollie,  a grand dame  of 16 years nearly 2 years ago. A framed photo of Pollie is mounted on the wall next to Little Miss Mischief's bed. Each night she says 'good night' and plants a kiss on the photo. Last week when it was her dad's birthday, the restaurant had some helium balloons on the table as a centre piece. LMM took them home, which she wrote on one


"Dear God, please give this to Pollie, she loves balloons and I miss her so much"


We walked outside in the dark, holding a candle in one hand she let the balloon go in the other. The breeze took hold of it and it floated upwards, then seem to hover at one point, not moving further upward.
Under my breath I said with fingers crossed behind my back "please keep on moving......please" then whoosh! it flew away. Phew!.
LMM said "For a moment there I was worried that maybe God doesn't allow balloons Mum in heaven".
Then she asked the question that I think is long overdue
"Can I have a puppy for Christmas?"
I looked my treasured garden and gulped...............


Have you had a pet that has died? what did you find hard or how did you explain it to your children?

A Day in the life of a Supermum. Oh really!

How do Super Mum's live anyway?

Every morning at around 3.30am I wake up embracing the day, though it's still dark outside and the birds haven't started their morning song as of yet.

Drink a relishing tasty health tonic and escape into the shower.

Don my sport clothes for a 5km jog, travel another 2km power walk, add a 30 minute course of cardio aerobic exercise finishing with a dessert topping of a 4 lap swim.

Shaking my wet hair into a 'naturally dried, I don't need to do another thing to my hair because it's already awesome as it is'. Slip easily into my size 8, superlicious jeans, cup my boobs into a 10B bra and top that off with a stylish, 'you look yummy mummy hot' top.

With enthusiasm and gusto, make every one's lunches, pre-prepare tonight's gourmet dinner, unload and reload faithful dishwasher, clean an already clean looking house, lay out children's daily clothes, make son's power shake, hang out the laundry, pre-program the next load of washing, feed the pets, sit down with a cuppa to answer personal emails, answer online comments, finish social media strategy plan by the last drop of tea and head to work for morning start of 6.30 am.

SLAP!
Sorry about that, I was dreaming again.

Is life really that simple to traverse, yet we seem to think that other mums do.....the idealistic super-mum. The mums that seem to sail through life effortlessly, with beautiful well mannered children, vogue styled home, and an impressive income of her own. She has the Midas touch, everything is easy.

Last week, a friend asked me to watch a web-video on a 'Mogul Mum" who seemed to have it all, she is by all accounts on the surface a super-mum. Watching this well known personality speak about her success, I noticed her body language, her shoulders were hunched a little and her eyes, well, a little less than smiley.This is a woman with some personal troubles or just plain tired, but the talk was there, the hype was there, smacking of "Look at me, look at me, I am so successful". Oh really.

The last time I spoke at a parenting conference I was introduced as an inspirational super-mum, which took me back a little. Liking the compliment anyway, but I am as ordinary as the mum next door.

In reality, I wake up at around 3.30am with a groan. I'd love to meet 7am, I hear its a really good time.

Turn the light on, gasp at the state of the kitchen, make a cup of tea and turn the computer on.
Read emails. Lament at the still dark exterior......
Basically everything else above is the same minus the enthusiasm & gusto, the over achieving exercise routine, the size 8 body, preferred boob size, the hair and clothes thing too, but as soon as there is light, I do go for a 3km power walk and ho hum the joggers that zoom past me each morning. I wouldn't dare jog out of fear that my hefty cleavage will give me a set of black eyes. I'm still not trim.

Today's society expects all mothers to be superhuman, super trim and super good looking and super talented, super committed and super financially independent. No excuses.
Women everywhere are trying so hard to meet these standards and they are secretly killing themselves emotionally & physically to meet the demands.

I think about the generation of women that came before me, like my mum.
My mum's generation were the stay at home wives. Girls who worked in their youth to be typists, secretaries, check out chicks till they married and had kids.

The conversations that mum & her friends used have on their regular get togethers; the lounge room would be filled with ladies puffing away on their cigarettes, drinking their coffee and chatting about how stressful their lives were.
Guaranteed each mum in that lounge room spoke about their daily dose of Valium or diazepam (something that sounded like that), who's husband was having an affair, gossiping about who didn't clean their windows last week, what type of roast to make, the latest in knitting techniques and had anyone tried the latest craze, macrame yet.
No one spoke about their gym routine, because gyms didn't exist then.

It intrigued me as to why all of these women were on Valium or similar in the first place. Valium is a calmative, sedative, that was often prescribed to help the then modern mum through the day without breakdown.
Were children so hard to raise in those days?

The only hardship I can possibly think off for my mother was that I asked more questions than she could ever possible answer, but basically we were all kicked outside to have our own adventures till dinner time. It was great.

Fast forward to the now generation of mums, life is far more complex and convoluted, the demands so much higher, all striving to reach the super human everything, and we are doing it without the aid of Valium.

Conversations now centre around who has found the latest apps, their careers, latest business technology, cloud computing, dropbox, latest google find, FB updates, diet & exercise regime, websites, new retail stores and cafes, best new parties, music and sometimes if you listen very carefully or look at the body language, there is a little subtle hint of "I'm drowning in competition here".

Majority of mums work, so career paths are critical to reach supermum status rather than just jobs. One dear friend returned to work once her children started school as a 'check out chick' at a local supermarket, rather than her previous corporate role. "I love my job really, it's the school hours so I'm free to be mum to my boys, I dont have to worry about after school care. I leave without taking work home with me, it's ideal in every way but I'm embarrassed to mention what I do in the company of other women that have executive positions, because they look down their noses at me as if I'm not important".

In reality, women in front line roles such as retail & customer service are far more important to us on a daily level than one woman at CEO level of a major corporation that we would not normally affiliate with. Just imagine if there was no one working in the supermarkets, or no supermarkets at all, we'd be back to growing all of our own veges (which is fun), slaughtering our own chickens & cattle (which isn't fun) ourselves or standing in long, long queues.

Many mums have also become business owners. The new breed of mumpreneurs, have the added stress of single handedly building the entire infrastructure of their company from the ground up, continually pursuing business education. Elements outside the initial product or service, such as employees, marketing, social media expertise, presentations, meetings, sourcing, business & retail relationships; the list is endless.
Yet every week the benchmark lifts a little higher and the mumpreneur has to work yet harder.
Last week someone mentioned I wasn't on Pinterest. "Huh?"

No matter what society expects from us, as mother's we are still in charge of doing the same motherly duties of looking after our children and partners as our predecessor did plus a whole lot more.



Take the outside work mum, who has to get the kids up and ready, the partner too sometimes, so that she can get to work on time. I have watched mums struggle into the day care centre in our home street, holding a tearful baby in one arm whilst dragging a defiant, cantankerous toddler in the other, come back out brushing a tear a way or wait till they get in the car and thump their head on the steering wheel, taking deep breaths. Their stressful day started a while ago and they haven't even arrived at work yet.

As our children reach primary school age, there's the struggle to get them to school on time, only to have the little darlings say at the school gate "Mum did you get my bag?"

  
Not to mention the plethora of after school activities, when mum becomes the taxi service, circumnavigating afternoon traffic across a couple of suburbs if she has more than one child or maybe a few to cart around.

Juggle the taxi service in between the second most important meal of the day, which is also the most time consuming and complex meal to make - the evening dinner. Add a few rounds of homework supervision (or battle standoffs), the bath time, the kitchen cleaning, folding the laundry, the bedtime routine (or war), it's not surprising to find many an overwhelmed mum not yet out of their work clothes at 9pm, trying to make it all fit in.






Mums seem to push themselves at the expectation to perform at a top knot rate endlessly throughout their day & night in all areas, to prove 'I am woman, hear me roar! I am woman, I am invincible" as Helen Redding sang the song that inspired women to change their lives from that day forward.


In hindsight someone should have put gaffer tap over her mouth!!

Something has got to give? but what?



Aside from the the secret wishful thinking of a few hours of 'free me time', as mothers, we wouldn't trade our children for anything.

Weekends are lost on the catch up of domestic chores, leaving most working mums without the option of critical battery recharging that the kids and non helpful partners enjoy the abundance of.
We're supposed to do it with a smile to!



As we battle the 'must have clean nest' syndrome internally, we endeavour to make our lives easier; we look, we search, we share tips, ideas, suggestions. As women we do that well, we also set the benchmark, the standards, we compete, we show off, because that's what women do. We are our own most significant 'frenemy'.

A friends daughter will be turning 10 at the end of this month, so she was scouring the bowels of google, blogs, websites and Pinterest for fab ideas and came away completely disheartened, somewhat depressed, if not impressed with her finds.
Looking on one blog site, her eyes feasted, her creative juices flowed and her heart sank
"Is this the new standard for little girls parties" she groaned "I can't compete with that, now I feel lousy that I can't, not only do these things, didn't think of them in the first place and just don't have the energy to coordinate it all?" she sighs.
It seems that Mcdonalds parties are no longer acceptable for that age group.

So the hangup begins again...... 'why can't I be a better mum like that mum'.....or 'mums like that make mums like me look real bad'..

Honestly, children really don't care if their mum can't master cloud computing, spreadsheets, diverse applications or make fancy sugar iced dolly clothes for dolly cookies, they love mum for who she is; their mum.

All mums are awesome in their own right!

Laugh at the chaos,

Take a 'good' break weekly (locking yourself in the toilet for half an hour, counting to 10 over and over again isn't considered a good break)

Don't stress about having to make the beds before you go to work in the morning; an empty house doesn't care. I have never known a house to have a sign on its front door "My owner didn't make the beds today"

Baked beans on toast for dinner is more than perfectly acceptable, we just don't get enough legumes in our diet anyway.

Don't compare yourself to other mums, they are probably doing the same to you.

Toys and baby paraphernalia scattered around is a sign 'My Family lives here'

Have an FFYD (Fend For Yourself Dinner) night at least once a week if you can. I've started to partake in that great invention.

If your are totally overwhelmed (and who isn't at times) find another mum to talk with and get things off your chest. She might need it too.

Believe in yourself, your kids do.



and,

"No one ever says on their death bed, I should have spent more time in the office"

Enjoy!

ACCC is not an authority on safety - a must read!!

What if you are in the market for a new car. You've done the research, you've thought about it and came up with a decision on a particular car. What if you read an article from an authority you believe is an expert on all things car related. This authority, this car expert steers you away from your decision, saying it's a bad choice, don't go near it. You decide on another type of car from the findings of this expert. What if, a few months down the track you discover that this expert doesn't know the difference between a motorcycle, a truck or even a station wagon. How would you feel? ripped off? angry perhaps? annoyed about being lied too? steaming at the ears because your original choice would have been perfect to suit your needs. What would you do? speak up?

I spent over an hour 2 weeks ago speaking with Tony Mintura from the ACCC, who released to the media that cloth slings are dangerous and shouldn't be used. A sort of Armageddon type statement that smacked of innuendo that if you put your baby in a sling it will die, it will suffocate instantly.
Yet no baby actually has. The first one last year was the famous 'hang the baby on the door knob' case.

OK I warrant that it was a 'bag style sling' that had 2 layers, elasticised opening and the baby was strapped to the bottom of the sling and hung off the door knob so the parents dogs couldn't get at the baby. It might have sounded like a good idea at the time but it became a fatal one. The elasticised opening closed up as a natural reaction, the dual layers of fabric stopped airflow and the baby was at the bottom of the bag carrier breathing in stale air. A mistake that can never be repaired.
Infantino recalled all of it's bag style carriers for review, while most of the industry had again repeated what they all thought when it first appeared on the market.....WTF! We all still do.

The ACCC went into fight mode and the newspapers said that if the ACCC have their way, all slings will be banned. Shock waves hit the industry, contacting the ACCC was harder than a needle in a hay stack, so emails were written, phones calls - all unanswered.

I saw more than 15 years of hard work, research, study, testing, go running out the door faster than my family when I offer Brussels Sprout Pie is for dinner.

Only those who are fans, didn't read the article, or tish-toshed the ACCC antics away that we are still here today.

Looking at the photo's in this blog, it looks nearly impossible on how a baby can suffocate. Rule of thumb with any product, you must be able to see baby's mouth at all times.

With the death of a 2 day old newborn baby in SA worn under the mother's jumper, the ACCC is at it again, trying to blame the death on slings. Most people will agree carrying a baby under a jumper without visible access to baby's mouth is never a clever idea, regardless of being in a sling or not.

The coroner handed down the judgement that the death was indeterminable, but the ACCC once again tried to focus the blame on a sling. The point is that with any type of suffocation, there is clear forensic evidence, such as cell & tissue damage, explaining it simply. This was not evident in the baby's autopsy.
Again we approached the ACCC with a 'please explain & why are you scaremongering the public!"

No answer again until I decided to follow protocol and make a complaint about the ACCC as a jeopardising monopoly, which by the way is illegal. The only government body who can approach in times like this is the ACCC. So the ACCC had to follow mandatory protocol and investigate itself.
My outcome - result! A phone call from the man himself, Tony Mintura, the expert on sling safety, except he doesn't know the difference between any of the different types of carriers on the market.

I'm not joking!!!!!!!! this man who made the statements, the press releases, doesn't even know the difference between a hammock style carrier, a parachute style, a wrap style or the dreaded bag style (ok most of us in the industry want to see this style go, because we are all in the know). I had to spend some time explaining how the different styles operate, the benefits, the whole kit & caboodle. I also asked him if he had ever used one, though I suspected the answer - no, "I just doesn't like them" he said.
This is the man that is trying to govern what you are allowed to use, like the car expert who knows nothing of cars.
Our industry was ever grateful to Kidsafe who immediately got on TV to feature how safe slings are.


What or who is the ACCC anyway? What do they do?
The ACCC was formed as a watchdog to protect businesses and consumers from pricing & practise monopolies.
They are not an authority on product safety.

Mostly this organisation was established as an outcome from the insidious dealings of the building industry, then became a protective blanket for all industries.
As one example, in our industry, some years ago, a private organization called INPAA, aka Industry Nursery Products Australia Association was formed as a regulatory group to list safe products that had undergone or met high safety standards, including legislative, such as car seats or non-legislative products, such as baby carriers etc.
Initially this non-government body was an ethical group determined to make Australian babies & children's products safe, but with a changing of the board of directors over the years, an insidious practise started to emerge.
Around 5 years ago, Bubba Moe Slings was the first to achieve product liability for soft baby carriers within Australia. I approached INPAA to become 'certified', and was rejected without any comment. Numerous phone calls were never returned and we at Bubba Moe were left scratching our heads as to why?
It wasn't till we were at a baby expo in Melbourne we were told the truth by another sling competitor who also had trouble gaining any entry into this elusive organisation. Having done some research herself, she found that another competitor of ours was one of the board of directors of INPAA, therefore any other soft baby carrier company would not be allowed a certificate of approval. Of course INPAA approached retailers to become a part of their group (retailers paying a hefty annual fee to display a sticker in the window) and then telling the retailers to clear their shelves of any non-INPAA products. A monopoly formed.
Many retailers bucked at the cost and the loss of some of their favourite products. It was a pram manufacturer (who wishes to remain anonymous) who found that another board member was also a pram manufacturer, that contacted the ACCC. This is were the ACCC is an authority. The board members were sacked, a new practice protocol was put into place under the guidance of ACCC, and we in the industry sighed a hefty sigh of relief.

For the record, Australian Standards & Kidsafe have never been in any association with the ill-fated INPAA. Though INPAA is still trading (eyebrows raised) it doesn't have any clout or bearing and most people don't even know of its existence. The former board members who eagerly wished the demise of their competitors all went out of business themselves (karma always bites back)

The strange thing is that why is ACCC getting involved? They along with the ABA (Australian Breast Feeding Association) are trying to set a standard on baby carriers personally. I feel that this is INPAA revisited all over again. ABA themselves don't have a breastfeeding carrier except for their 'apron' style carrier that has been rated the worst carrier in history for it's tiny shoe string straps and no infant head support. They approached me around 2 years ago to redesign this carrier to be more supportive, user friendly and most importantly breast feeding friendly! I was eager until a change of staff (there's a lot of staff changes) left me dealing with their project manger........ in short -  I quit!!!!!!!!!!!
I, like all their previous staff wanted to hide on the Sahara side of Timbuktu.

In the Media industry, they are often referred to as the 'WHO', but these people have some clout.
Do you know why you never or very rarely see advertisements on bottles or dummies? The ABA is responsible for that. Whether you are a member or not, all new parents are under the wrath of the ABA, who themselves are creating a monopoly - which is illegal.



New parents are being denied access to knowledge of an item that they might or have to use. No parent should be made to feel ashamed for using a bottle, after all what is a bottle really? It's a drinking vessel, like a cup, glass, pop top etc, its just something to drink out of.

Our caricature (mascot) is a derivative of a photo of my 2nd son 'the Chef' & me when he was 5 months old. In the photo he is sitting in the sling chomping at the side of his mouth a dummy (great for teething instead of me) with me looking at him with motherly love. We cant use our mascot because of the dummy.
For me it's a homage to my son who made me start the business of Bubba Moe.

We were incredibly poor, faced with a moral dilemma when he sold his 4 rabbits to produce $20. Do I use the money to buy food or buy fabric to make some more money maybe? when I had my first non-family customer. It was he who said "If you do this, our lives will change"
The next week, when she paid for the sling, we bought something that we hadn't had in a very long while - ice cream.

help us choose a Mini Moe Logo and win one for the little mothers

The first time I made a 'Mini Moe' was when Missy Zip was 6 years old, she is now 21. 

The Baby Born doll was the biggest fad since the Barbie, and like all the other girls her age, high on the Christmas wish list. 

Month before Christmas, as the queue for the doll reached frantic level, I still needed to find tidbits like clothes & accessories for the doll, running out of time, I brought in the cavalry to stand in line, my mum. 

I left her with a look that smacked of "be nice" I went in search for the extras, surmising that it would be at least another half an hour

One hell of a ferocious person just by her look, mum never stood any line for anything very long. 

Mean mums come in handy for moments like these.

I was still gulping back the cost of the hefty priced outfits, which started at $48, and the Baby Born carrier was double that, when mum came up with the doll leaving behind a trail of curse mutterings from those still left in line. 

She demanded we leave real soon, or there might be a posse of irate mum's waiting for us in the car park.

"But I haven't got any clothes for the doll........"

With Troll, a then bub in the sling, it was mum who suggested or more like an inpatient scowl "make them yourself" as she pointed to the sling.

Looking past me, she said "Quick, give me the sling". I didn't need to turn around to know that there was a troop of angry shoppers with an agenda coming up behind us.

Transferring sleeping Troll in sling from me to mum was done in less then 30 seconds, she shoved me aside, pushed out her boobs, cracked her knuckles one at a time as she faced her self induced foe.

It worked every time, they slinked away.

Mum was as embarrassing as many times as she was right about things. 

I guess growing up in the slums of a European city ravaged by war & other atrocities, she came accustomed to casually stepping over fist fights in the street as she did stepping off a curb to cross a street.

That night I made Missy Zip and the Baby Born identical twirly floral dresses with matching flip up hats and a coordinating stripe Mini Moe dolly sling. I had to wait till she went to bed before commandeering The Chef's body as a guide for the Mini Moe dolly sling. Just 2 years older, he was used to being a live mannequin for all the Aster Moe Kidswear designs; boys & girls wear alike. 

Couple of years later it was a different story as I had to chase him around the house to get him to try on an outfit. "I'm not getting into a dress, FINAL!" he protested, hurdling couches, sliding across the kitchen bench island, as I pleaded in hot pursuit "I just need to check dimensions that's all. Honest it will be quick, pleeeaasse"

I couldn't wait till Christmas for missy Zip to have the Baby Born Doll and the various other outfits I ended up making. That doll was going to be the best dressed doll in town.

As with Missy Zip it was a hit as it was for our Aster Moe customers.

Mini Moe Dolls Clothes was born that Christmas and lived for another 10 years, selling at all the various markets we did.  All the designs were replicas of the of the Aster Moe range, many times the dolls clothes sold out before the children's clothes did. At Christmas time there would be queues of people, 4 -5 deep grabbing at the dolly clothes.  These days there is case of left over Mini Moe dolls clothes and a naked Baby Born, which has Texta makeup to rival the scariest clown in town in permanent non use under Little Miss Mischief's bed. I guess she didn't like Baby Born's as much as Missy Zip did.

 

The Mini Moe Dolly sling though, is in rampant use by little Miss Mischief & her BFF - Bailey. Sezah, her rabbit along with Snowy & Jasmine the resident guinea pigs all get daily rides as LMM lullaby's them with her own fairy & unicorn songs in the garden.

I'm thinking, singing lessons might not go astray in the new future..............

I have experimented with the Mini Moe Dolly slings for a long time, but kept coming back to our original version, thinking that maybe a ring sling version might give better sizing to accommodate different shapes & rapidly growing bodies. I experimented with parachute style versions, thinking that little kids could relate easier with that style, but there were already a few on the market and it seemed to contradict what we were about. Mostly parents spoke about their little toddlers grabbing the sling that was used for them and putting their teddies in, but it was too big; so back to the original once again.

Like a lot of things in our lives, we put a lot of projects to the back burner, due to life as we know it being so full as it is.

This time I did I got the legals in process before anyone saw the revised Mini Moe Dolly Sling; a little but very important thing called IP protection!!!!

Nothing is more heart braking than having your design that you have spent countless hours researching developing only to have it stolen away by the lack of an A4 sheet of paper. I've seen it happen to so many people in the past and it's not such a big process once you've don't it once.

We're really happy at the response we have had within our control groups, the retailers who have 'proof tested' the product and at Perth's PBC Expo last month a hit with the general public.

The product itself is finished, though we are still finalising the choices of logo's done by the fabulous Bec Marr from  RubyRuby designs and the marketing material such as packaging and other things that go with a new product......... so much to do! 

The staff & I just can't seem to settle on a favourite, so we thought it might be nice to have our fans & readers have an input in choosing the new logo for our Mini Moe Dolly Sling.

 As a reader of this blog, there's a chance to win a free Mini Moe Dolly Sling, from the following concepts, which logo would you choose? Post your answer in the comment section below. Who ever chooses the final design will get a Mini Moe of their choose, there's are 15 cute selections to choose from 

Love your Dad Today

With Fathers Day today, and just like every Fathers Day, it brings a tinge of sadness and excitement for our household.
I love spoiling my husband Maurie, he is such a great father not only to our own Little Miss Mischief but to his step children, 'my other 4'. I also think of my own dad, and Maurie's dad too, this is where the sadness comes in.
The one thing I wished I had done was tell Dad more times how much I loved him, I don't think I said it enough.

SO, if your Dad is around, love your Dad today!

I often think of my Dad, who was as soft as my mum was tough. Dad was an all round good guy, who loved to help anyone who needed a project completed, something built, something fixed. Wherever Dad went, so did his tools. Being an engineer, it suited him.

Dad was always around, helping us build our extension, building pathways, cubby houses, the pool etc. Everything in our home has a hand from Dad.

There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for  me or his beloved grandchildren.
Have a problem - call Dad
Need a fix job - call Dad
Want something built - call Dad
Need some babysitting - call Dad
Help at the markets - call Dad
Build a spud cannon - Call Dad
Take kids to sport - Call Dad
Flat tyre - call Dad
Driving lessons - Call Dad
Frames for my art work - Call Dad
You name it, "who ya gonna call" - Dad


While I was heavily pregnant with #2 (the chef), I found it difficult to drive with such a big belly. Being short had a lot to do with it, with the seat set at the closest, my belly got in the way. Dad to the rescue again, constructed a set of pedal extensions, which I used in all of my cars, until our family car, a Nissan Nomad, dubbed the Freedom Van, died a premature death at the age 19.5 years. Vans are not designed for paddock bashing, the much older 'Chef' found out. I forgot until it was to late to retrieve the pedal extensions my Dad had lovingly made. A stab of pain hit my heart so hard, no longer possible to get on the phone "hey Dad....."

I remember at one stage when the boys were little I wouldn't let them watch South Park, an animated series, rather controversial and definitely not to my liking, definitely not to my approval. I had given strict orders to my parents that my children were not allowed to watch the show, which my parents didn't seem to know anything about. Having watched mostly documentaries & British sitcoms most of their lives, I felt confident that they wouldn't approve either.

Suddenly each Monday, Dad would religiously collect both the boys for a sleepover at Oma's & Opa's, under the guise "I'm helping them with their softball training", where I assumed that they would spoil the boys with chocolate & chips.

This went on for a few month's until I discovered that secretly my parents thought the show hysterical, that I was a stick- in- the- mud, and it was their weekly time together for silly fun. My rules didn't count when it was their time together and  besides, what I didn't know wouldn't hurt me.

Over the next few years mostly for my parents sake, in particular Dad who really enjoyed the charade, egged on by the boys, who thought it a real hoot to bypass their mum's rules, I kept the 'no South Park what-so-ever' a permanent rule. 

After they left each Monday, I would chuckle at the rebellious 4, Dad, Mum, Ry & the Chef indulging in their weekly cheeky dose of authority defiance.

After Dad passed away I did confess to the boys, that I knew the real Monday reason (softball my arse). We all laughed. The boys, now young men, even after 10 years still miss those Mondays.

The one thing I wished I had done was tell him more times how much I loved him, I don't think I said it enough.
SO, if your Dad is around, love your Dad today!

Bubba Moe discovers the Levity Layne Breastfeeding cover

While I was at the PBC Perth Expo couple of weeks ago, I discovered some wonderful products that I think you would love to know about!

The first one that had me more excited than...... anything

is the

Levity Layne

Bamboo Breastfeeding Covers

At only $39.95, not only  great value for money, also fuss free, easy to wear, with timeless understated elegance.

I want one too!!

Made from Bamboo, the cool scrumptious feel that's drapes divinely over the body is almost heavenly.

Really who could resist not wearing this as a fashion item long after breastfeeding days are over?

Kerry Bryson, the intrepid designer of Levity Layne, chose bamboo for her product for its pure properties.

Why Bamboo?

• Antibacterial - keeps you odour free,  feeling and smelling fresh
• Tremendously  Absorbent - keeps you and your baby dry while feeding 
• Impressively Insulated - keeps you cooler in summer and warmer in winter
• One of the softest fabrics on the planet - you'll love the way it feels on you and your baby
• Natural UV Protectant - protect yourself and your baby from the suns UV rays (great pram cover while in the sun) 
• Hypoallergenic - natural bamboo does not cause allergic reactions
• 
  
  
  
  Made from the most eco-friendly plant on the planet - help save your planet
  
  
  Visit www.levitylayne.com.au
  
  

Hungry on the streets of Perth

August every year I fly over to Perth for the annual PBC Expo. This is the only expo that I go as our own rep for Babyland and other stores that stock our slings.

I love Perth, so it’s never a case of coaxing. It never ceases to amaze me how friendly, warm-hearted and open Perth people are, and besides their city is beautiful too!

Each year it’s the same, I get in a last minute flap organising everything for the staff I leave behind. The day I was leaving for the flight over I was at the factory before 6.30am, 10 am I raced home to finish packing my suitcase, as my stomach started to protest, realising that I hadn’t eaten anything except a few teas, a coffee and a Chai since 3am that morning.

Scoffing down 2 slices of toast I made a mental note to catch something more significant at the airport before the late afternoon flight.

Ok, that didn’t happen as I got sidetracked at a cute children’s store in the transit lounge, buying something for Little Miss Mischief. Racing towards the gate I managed to get in on time, well, I’ll get something from the in flight menu.

6.30 pm, with tummy protesting louder than it did this morning, I grabbed the menu. Hmm, the ‘Masterchef’ Salmon pie made my nose turn up and the skinny chick salad wrap was equally unappealing. I’ve had the giant cookie on a previous flight, I didn’t like that either.

I turned the menu around a few times just to check if there might have been something I had missed. I didn’t feel like Alcohol, and the coffee, I remember was enough to send shudders down my person.

Mental note to myself, don’t be so fussy, but fussy still won out so I ignored my tummy and thought, I’ll catch something at the Dome Café at the airport. They’ve always got a good selection.

Arriving at just past midnight in Perth, I ignored the rush of passengers to the baggage carousel and headed straight for Dome. Ordered Chai, as per usual, but their remaining food was on the thin, not to my taste side. Deep breath, don’t be fussy, just be pick something, anything for goodness sakes. Nah, I’ll get something at the Hotel. Collect lonely bag from carousel.

Arrive at hotel, check in, and head the long, long walk to find my room. Back tracking along the way, because suddenly the room numbers go out of sync. Criss-cross the main corridor a few times only to find it’s the very last room, in the very last nook I look in.

Head straight for the fridge in anticipation of a well stocked mini bar, chips will do nicely right about now.

Open fridge to find 3 little sachets of milk and nothing else. Stick head inside just in case I missed the spot that held the normal offerings of chips, chocolates and nuts. Nothing, zilch, zip.

Light bulb! There is always the complimentary free bickies!

Head for the cupboard that has the tea & coffee sachets, only to find just that! No bickies. For an expensive Hotel (because I left the booking rather late) this was unacceptable. No bickies, scratches head.

Light bulb! Room service! Dial for room service only to find that they closed 10 minutes before hand. This can’t be good.

Make tea using the 3 tiny miniscule sachets of milk, not that palatable, reminds me of the type of tea my mother used to make. I miss her, but never, ever have I missed the woeful tea she used to make. A splish, splash & drop of milk makes any tea a blah experience. I like mine to look like a golden-bronzed Aussie, full bodied & richly flavoured.

Grab my Mary Poppins style handbag, which always has something left over from LMM’s ‘I don’t want to carry this anymore’. Rummage neatly then turn the bag upside down to tip out its contents. Immediately regret decision, looking at the carnage on the floor. 

There it tumbles, rolling on the ground, with a glowing halo pulsating from its shiny wrapped being, a Werther’s original.

Cheesy grin erupts on face!

I don’t know how long its been in my bag, but its wrapped, so its still good according to my completely depleted stomach.

The last little sliver manages to lodge in a deep cavity that once a tooth resided. Claw at ceiling in excruciating pain till it dislodges itself with the help of a rather forceful tongue. Mental note to oneself; get over stupid fear of dentist and their horrible dose of torture, get the multitude of almost extinct teeth fixed.

Face plants the bed, complaining to no one but myself about the single cotton cell blanket that provides the only form of warmth in this cold room.

4.30am, wakes with the trumpeting pain of a stomach embarking on a full scale war!

Light bulb! All McDonalds are open at 5am in most city centres if not 24/7. Dresses, sips a black cup of tea to waken rest of body. Stomach yells at rest of body to hurry up.

Walk the darkened deserted streets of Perth City towards McDonalds. It’s a long, very cold 6-block walk, but considering that since I have given myself lately a hefty dose of ASTC (Ass Stuck To Chair) I shouldn’t complain.

Turn corner, startled by a man like figure lurking in the shadows. Jump sideways, heart goes a little further. Phew, its one of the many bronze statues that adorn the city fair.

Catch heart before it splatters on the road beside me, push back into chest and quicken the pace.

Arrive at McDonalds only to find they open at 6am. Oh joy!!

There are people around, but they look like the homeless variety.

Mental note to oneself, next volunteer work I do will be to help feed homeless people, considering they would feel like this on a daily basis.

2 young girls walk up, pyjama clad with sloppy joes thrown over the top. The 3 of us look hopelessly into the entrance of the empty McDonalds and start talking.

Half an hour later we are still pacing like protesters, when a troupe of runners dash past. One girl claps and cheers and tells them they are doing a great job, keep it up she yells out “You’re Trojans, pillars of society”

I like this girl; she’s fun even if she still has last night’s makeup caked on. I look worse, more like a walking train wreck.

Some of the early morning workers turn up. We get excited at the very soon prospect of food. The next half hour is sheer agony when the make up girl starts singing the David Jones Food Hall song “Food, glorious food” which I think was taken from the musical Oliver.

The wondrous chime of the Perth Town Hall clock heralds the 6am we were waiting for.

6.05am girls start clawing at the window, I join in to scare them into opening on time. No such luck.

6.10am girls start to slide down front glass doors, I try but my jacket gets stuck, bare of back touches ice-cold doors. Howl at the shock of it, all the while the staff continue to ignore us.

6.15am and finally, they open! Girls rush to counter first, they’re bigger & by the looks of it hungrier than me if that’s at all possible.

Manage to order a hotcakes meal, though it took 4 attempts to get the young employee to understand that I really only just wanted the hotcakes. Repeating far too many times in her very broken English “Yu wa mel” ***sigh*** Ok, I have meal then. Just give me some food already.

Sit down to eat as a homeless man walks in with a coin loot of $1.50. Employee says coffee is $2.95. I dig out coin purse to help pay for coffee but the manager waves the employee aside and gives the man a large coffee for the coins before I can get to the counter.

The homeless man sits at the table next to mine, savouring his coffee. I can’t eat the hash brown or the last hotcake so I ask him if he’d like to continue enjoying the hot, freshly baked hash brown and hotcake for me.

He smiles and nods as I hand over my no longer needed food. I’m full, take sip of coffee and nearly choke. I’d forgotten how tar like the McDonalds regular coffee is.

As if by instinct the homeless man holds out hand, still coughing & spluttering, I gladly relinquish to him the poison he seems to like so much.

I get up to go, chirping off a ‘see you later’ he winks back with a smiley “Your trip here will be very successful”, the manner of the voice not quite matching his look. Scratches head.

Skip all the way back to the hotel, stopping only to say “boo” to the statue that startled me before and a quick pit stop for real milk at the now open convenience store enroute.

Life’s happy as I enjoy a real cup of tea back at the Hotel. Find a stash of blankets in the wardrobe, which makes me feel better about not freezing to death over the next few nights.

A couple of hour’s later head off to the first day of what will be a complete sell out of Bubba Moe Slings.

Very successful Expo indeed!