Kidzarama

This quiz reminded me of the last birthday party we held for Wren, when we naively included some 6 & 7 year boys among the select group of 18 invitees.

We lived to regret it. Boys are so crazy at that age. At any age.

We didn’t even allow them red cordial. I think their parents must have fuelled them up beforehand. They certainly did the drop and dash quickly enough.

We will not make the same mistake twice.

I’m now planning that Mr Bump will only be allowed to have girls to his parties as he grows up.

So how many 5 year olds could you take?

15

Wren loves adding nice~smelling, colourful stuff to the bathtub and having a soak.

The problem is that she’s not that sparing with her sprinkling, and those sprinkles don’t come cheap.

So this is an easy & cheap way for mums of girls keep up with the demand for bath salts. Not to mention fun for the kids to make.

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Today I *deep breath*

• returned some trackpants that WonderHubby didn’t like,
• searched the local chemist stores for (and found) “our” brand of antihistamines,
• had pizza for lunch with my mother,
• picked up some great bargains at the op shop,
• borrowed some scrapbooking books from the local library
• before picking Mr Bump up from preschool,
• and then spent the afternoon cleaning up after Mr Bump’s progressive mess party.

Oh, and I went to the doctor’s, where she gave me the “all clear”.

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This is how pathetic I was when Wren was new.

I was soooooo terrified of her being upset that I used to take her into the bathroom with me when I showered. In case she woke up crying.

This picture probably helps to explain why she can be so clingy when I’m around, yet outgoing and confident when she thinks I’m not.

Thank God I learnt my lesson and did things differently with Mr Bump. He barely notices me.

Although, on second thoughts, maybe I went a bit far the other way.

But I am not having number three to try again for the middle road.

Thanks to Carrie for this fun meme!

I found a lump in my left breast a week ago, and saw the doctor yesterday for an examination, and she’s written me out a referral for an ultrasound.

As women’s breasts age, they become less fibrous and so a mammogram is able to pick up anything unusual. Anyone under about 50 will need an ultrasound.

I’m not too concerned, although I’m kind of dreading telling my mother. She had breast cancer when Wren was 18mths old, and although she’s fine and coped great with hers, I know she’ll be more worried about me.

What mother wouldn’t?

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