I thrive on routine.

I'm a routine person. My days are routine. I control what I can. I make lists. Lots of lists. If something changes. I stress.
My morning followed it's routine.
I woke at 5.30am with my husband to go to work.
I made him breakfast and coffee. Elijah Woke.
I made him breakfast. I made hubby lunch.
He eats lots of lunch!
I made my breakfast, I like it soggy. So while I wait, I do the dishes.
Just when I was about to eat my soggy breakfast hubby lets out a horrified scream "he's pooed! and he's trying to eat it!"
This is why I have routine.
Normally. Elijah wakes and I get him up. I change his nappy. And we carry on.
This morning. Elijah wakes and hubby gets him. And we carry on.
See the difference? That key change in routine.
Elijah always poos first thing in the morning. Hubby didn't change his nappy. Elijah had a full nappy from the night. Elijah's nappy exploded.
6.10am Hubby left for work.
Mummy grabs Elijah tries to (not so graciously) take his pj's and nappy off without being covered in poo. I put him in the shower. Lucky he loves showers. Nappy in bin. Clothes rinsed out. Floors mopped and disinfected. Elijah out of shower. Elijah dressed and to bed.
40 minutes of morning was out of routine.
When I finished cleaning my soggy breakfast was too soggy. My coffee was cold.
I was tired.
I don't have day sleeps. Never have. Not even with little bubba.
No Elijah's sleep time is my cleaning time. Or facebook. Or online shopping. Or now blogging.
I like to clean. Oh who am I kidding no-one likes to clean. I feel the need to clean. And have a clean house.
So While Elijah slept I decided to vacuum and mop the floors. And clean my shower.
And now I am writing this. Because my day has been thrown out of routine and it's only 7am.

Blogging?

So I am new to this blogging thing (obvioulsy) I do like to write but havn't found time to do it for a long time. I don't know why I chose blogging. Thought it would be cool to look back on. For me. For Elijah. Thought it might keep me sane. Thought, well actually I didn't really think. I just did. I always just do.
I am a full-time working mother of one. And a  wife. So really a mother of two. Sometimes of four. I have sibblings, two younger sibblings. And a mum, a single mum. So I have them, a lot. I always have.

I work in childcare, with babies, so everyday I go to work, look after eight children under fifteen months (including mine) and then return home to look after an eleven month old, extremely adventurous boy. Sometimes I think I must be nuts.
I used to like things like shopping, water skiing, going to the gym and being 'pampered'.
Pfft, not anymore. Now I like things like sewing, crafting and planning things, like parties.
But I never get to do these things, well not often. Instead I spend my spare time (haha) doing things like washing, vacuuming, wiping, changing nappies, cleaning up food, vomit, pee because he thinks he's clever taking his nappy off...
I love it, really, I do.
Just some days, like today, I don't.
And yet I want another baby, really badly.
I don't really know why, probably because I had a perfect (as perfect as being pregnant can be) pregnancy, labor and birth and mostly perfectly baby so far. I want a girl though, like I really badly, desperately want a girl.
Oh, I love my boy, he is prefect. and handsome. and smart. and I'm glad I had him first. But now I want my pretty, pink, bows and butterflies girl.
They say the male determines the sex; I say pressures on.

Hubby and I have been married for 6 months (01.10.11). We couldn't be any more different and yet we couldn't be anymore perfectly suited. We fight, like everyone. We make up. We disagree. We make up or at least agree to disagree. Hubby likes 'the simple life' he was bought up very different, minimalistic and very not-materialistic. I was the opposite, I got whatever I wanted; rich no, spoilt yes.

So my life revolves (well kind-of) around trying to give my son everything he could ever want, without spoiling him. Trying to make my house perfect (I swear I have OCD) and yet not spending too much money. Trying to plan gorgeous parties, on a budget, a shoe-string budget.
You see when I found out I was pregnant it was August, actually a week exactly before my grade 12 exams. Yeah those ones that count for like 50% of your final grade. So by the time I finished school in November I was 3 months pregnant. We didnt get much of a headstart before bub but now we're just doing it with him.

Anyway I like to think that despite only being nineteen, go on give me that look of disapproval; I have done as-good-as-any job of raising my child, I like to think that my maternal instinct, commitment, determination and dreams make up for age.

My name is Yakira. My husbands name is Emile. Our sons name is Elijah.
Oh and that is my aunty, we are very close :)