FFS Friday

This past week saw M's third birthday, with birthday party attached. She's been checking out the character birthday cakes in Woolworths for the past six months for her birthday, deciding each week between Mickey Mouse (Squeaky Mouse), Lightning McQueen (Lightwing Aqueen), Peppa Pig (PEPPA, caps deliberate) and Thomas the Tank Engine (Thomas the Tank Engine). Whilst I was mildly concerned about how the frozen for transport then thawed in store cakes would TASTE and I was not keen on paying $25 for a cake... it was what my firstborn wanted. And if it meant I wouldn't need to spend hours baking and decorating a cake... well...

We go to Woolworths the week before M's birthday and enquire about the likelihood of a PEPPA cake, as that was what Madam had deigned necessary. We are gently told that the decorated cakes have been discontinued and there is a Lightning McQueen cake they can give us for cheap because it's cracked. FFS.

Gulp.

I then offered to make M any cake her heart desired. My cake skillz are pretty mad and they've never let me down before. I am very thankful for the full year of night classes Skye and I took in cake decorating in 2008. She says Peppa. I think of all the Peppa cakes I've seen where her snout looks like... well... a penis. FFS.

Mr S thinks I am crazy for even envisaging such a problem. FFS.

So, with Mothership's supervision and me having endless mini shouty rants of 'I CAN'T TALK RIGHT NOW MUM, NOT TALKING RIGHT NOW, ICING SHIT SHIT SHIT' - this happened.


I gave myself several high fives. NO FFS.

I posted the above picture on Instagram and the first comment was 'You did such a great job unlike the other Peppa cakes I've seen, where her snout looks like a penis.' I KNOW, RIGHT? NO FFS.

M's party went well, although she appears to be blessed with my social genes whereupon worries that no one is coming to party when no one had turned up five minutes after the official start time. FFS.

I had really hoped that my kids missed that one. FFS.

We moved both girls into the same room on the weekend. The first day was appalling, where no one had a day sleep. I went in to check on them and M was going the slide next to P's head. P thought it was glorious. FFS.

All settled down and now they're pretty good. NO FFS.

Aside from today, where P refused to go to sleep and spent 45 minutes singing, bashing the walls, pulling stuffed toys through the sides of her cot and trying to get pictures off her walls. FFS.

She wasn't screaming her head off whilst she was doing this, so it's not too bad. NO FFS.

Today we went to the supermarket and whilst I had M's hand firmly gripped whilst going across the zebra crossing RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOORS, a car sped through the zebra crossing without a second glance. Terrifying. M was two paces ahead of me whilst still firmly holding my hand, and I've never been so terrified and furious all at one. I waved my child laden arms at the car with a look of horror and anger on my face. If her window had been open I would have screamed 'WHAT THE FECK ARE YOU DOING YOU FECKWIT?'. Truly. I had a headache and it was naptime for the chickens. FFS.

The way I moved my arms around it probably looked like I was doing a funny dance. FFS.

L and I have been running like mad women lately. Upon the advice of my GP (a fitness fanatic) I invested in a Garmin factory reconditioned GPS HRM watch. It is glorious and looks giant on my bird wrists. I do love it though. NO FFS.

Did I mention that L and I ran our first fun run on March 16. 4km in 26:54. No stopping! All running! NO FFS.


There was people there from every walk of life and it was one of the most inspiring things I've seen. As we were leaving about 90 minutes after we began, the last of the 4km walk/run were finishing. There was a young man in a walking frame with his two carers/parents. We cheered SO hard for him and he was SO excited to finish. He was closely followed by another disabled woman with her carer. It was so humbling and amazing. NO FFS.

M & P spend most mornings mimicking my stretches. It's so sweet and cracks us both up. M also tries to do push ups with Mr S - and she's got some amazing strength. I can't believe how bendy and strong toddlers are. NO FFS.

I never want to hear anyone tell me how hard exercise is. FFS.

I know I've been guilty of it of complaining about how hard it is for many years of my life, but I eat humble pie now. I find it very hard to make small talk with people who see my running gear and tell me 'I'd love to run, it's just so hard.' FFS.

As the mighty Sarah says 'JFDI'. Of COURSE it's not pleasant, but the gains absolutely outweigh the pain. Trust me. NO FFS.

L and I did an easy 3km run on Wednesday morning. We keep meaning to run further, but after we drop our kids at daycare and have a child free coffee... time slips away and L needs to go to work. FFS.

I came home after our run on Wednesday and 'cross trained' for an hour, listening to Another Mother Runner podcasts. NO FFS.

After I'd moved a tonne of wood, the podcast was still going so I did some trail training around my yard for a km. NO FFS.

Two rows deep, 6' high.

I moved the wood from here, up the path in my garden cart.

I was then exhausted. FFS.

Yesterday my sniffle got worse and I felt remarkably queasy all day. Mr S came home at 6pm, I crawled into bed and slept for a bit. I no longer felt queasy but my skin hurt. Ouch! I tossed and turned all night and whilst I'm less achy today I'm still feeling like crap. Was it the mega exercise Wednesday or something lurking that reared it's ugly head. Either way: FFS.

I'm peeved because I really fancied a run tonight. I'm doing the Mother's Day Classic and I need to keep my training up. FFS.

I know one missed one won't break it, but it feels like it. FFS.

I have a little girl to go and snuggle now, I have a feeling the lurgy is about to visit us all. FFS.

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