(she sings in best 80's pop icon voice), "and what have you done..." hmm, lets see, run round like a mad thing would sum it up quite nicely.
Yay for Christmas Eve Eve daycare this morning as I was able to frantically wrap the last of the pressies and stash them beneath beach towels in the back most part of the boot of the Porshe. And by Porshe I mean Audi A6 station wagon, and by Audi A6 station wagon I mean white, dusty, cob webby Toyota Camry circa 1997. (But dreams are free of course).
I'm now in the midst of washing those last few 'must have' clothes, you know, the favorite pirate t-shirt, the dinosaur pj's, the very cute but highly impractical girly dress for lil miss to wear Christmas day so she'll look way cute in the family Christmas day snap shot - and so what if it's covered in turkey & cranberry sauce by the time the Kodak moment takes place, at least I can say I tried.
And speaking of Kodak moments. A very proud mummy moment last night when I took the boy to meet the man in the jolly red suit himself. Not being the most confident of kids, I was convinced that his 21st photo board would be sans Santa photo, but in a strange turn of events, he rocked right up to Santa, spoke very clearly about what he would like, and advised even more clearly how good of a boy he'd been this year. So with a week to go until his 4th birhtday, he managed to leap this huge hurdle that often even the most outgoing children struggle to do. So yay for him, and yay for Kodak moments.
What more to say at this time of year. Peace, Goodwill & Merry Christmas - or will it be Maori Christmas, I think we're having a hangi!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Mothers are like Marbles
Yeah, yeah, I know it's been 6 months since I last blogged it out. I've been busy, too busy for me it would seem, shifting to our brand new home, coping with the increasing demands of a soon to be four year old and a soon to be one year old, and just incase I didn't have enough to trip over already, we've recently added a kitten to the mix.
Named by the boy "Choppa", like the man says "could be worse", could be standing out on the back lawn in my dressing gown shaking the packet of whiskas yelling "here poo face" or "here bum bum" - too rather catchy and popular sayings at 'The Heritage' of late.
Anyway, back to me, I have some lovely friends who also don't have all that much time for themselves (the old them, sans children), however one of my lovely friends organised a girls afternoon yesterday whereby we wined, lunched, dinnered and coffeed the day away, just us, no kids, no dinners to cook, no jammies to find. It was heaven, and yet somehow foreign at the same time.
I promised during our big outing, that I'd start blogging again, I like to read others, so only fair that I give a little bit back to the blog community as it were.
Time in the shower is, apart from the odd mummy lunch, about the only place a mother gets to here herself think, that is if she's smart enough to shower at 10pm when there's no one awake to ask 21 questions while she is in there (smart move). So I got to thinking, one night in my little quite cubical, about what object could be related to being a mother, I decided that mothers were a lot like marbles, here's why:
MOTHERS ARE LIKE MARBLES
We used to be cool and exciting
We take a lot of knocks but keep on rolling
As one we are strong,
but put a whole lot together and you will have a hell of a lot of fun.
Quite like being a mum, don't you think.
Right so that's my theory on the world today - hope you're proud of me 'G' finally getting back on the blog wagon!
Until next time
xx
Named by the boy "Choppa", like the man says "could be worse", could be standing out on the back lawn in my dressing gown shaking the packet of whiskas yelling "here poo face" or "here bum bum" - too rather catchy and popular sayings at 'The Heritage' of late.
Anyway, back to me, I have some lovely friends who also don't have all that much time for themselves (the old them, sans children), however one of my lovely friends organised a girls afternoon yesterday whereby we wined, lunched, dinnered and coffeed the day away, just us, no kids, no dinners to cook, no jammies to find. It was heaven, and yet somehow foreign at the same time.
I promised during our big outing, that I'd start blogging again, I like to read others, so only fair that I give a little bit back to the blog community as it were.
Time in the shower is, apart from the odd mummy lunch, about the only place a mother gets to here herself think, that is if she's smart enough to shower at 10pm when there's no one awake to ask 21 questions while she is in there (smart move). So I got to thinking, one night in my little quite cubical, about what object could be related to being a mother, I decided that mothers were a lot like marbles, here's why:
MOTHERS ARE LIKE MARBLES
We used to be cool and exciting
We take a lot of knocks but keep on rolling
As one we are strong,
but put a whole lot together and you will have a hell of a lot of fun.
Quite like being a mum, don't you think.
Right so that's my theory on the world today - hope you're proud of me 'G' finally getting back on the blog wagon!
Until next time
xx
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
A mother's guilt
Life's full of catch 22 situations when you're a mum. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. I really think midwives should issue a t-shirt to every new mum on the arrival of her first born.
The boy has started day care recently and while I was hesitant to let him out from under my wing, I am on the other hand delighted to do so for various reasons. However, the floodgates I was so anxiously expecting did open and I am not looking forward to a prolonged battle of teary morning drop offs.
He's the kind of boy who's happy to be where he is once he gets there, and once he's comfortable, he's all in and all go, but the reserved, shy side to him isn't quite as brave as he would like to be and his emotions overwhelm him - not surprisingly since I'm such a cool mummy to hang out with hehehe.
And so Monday's and Tuesday's are met with anticipation and apprehension from the both of us. I love the fact he's learning new things and that he has the opportunity to be independent of his mummy, but there's this horrible knot each morning as I leave him there with waterworks in full flight.
I could google the word guilt, however the Concise Oxford definition would no doubt differ from the actual one a mother would pen if it were she who wrote the dictionary.
I am trying to decide if this little challenge is more for him or for me, and I'm concluding that it is for us both, and I think we'll both be enriched and enlightened once we are over the initial shock of not being so joined at the hip.
The boy has started day care recently and while I was hesitant to let him out from under my wing, I am on the other hand delighted to do so for various reasons. However, the floodgates I was so anxiously expecting did open and I am not looking forward to a prolonged battle of teary morning drop offs.
He's the kind of boy who's happy to be where he is once he gets there, and once he's comfortable, he's all in and all go, but the reserved, shy side to him isn't quite as brave as he would like to be and his emotions overwhelm him - not surprisingly since I'm such a cool mummy to hang out with hehehe.
And so Monday's and Tuesday's are met with anticipation and apprehension from the both of us. I love the fact he's learning new things and that he has the opportunity to be independent of his mummy, but there's this horrible knot each morning as I leave him there with waterworks in full flight.
I could google the word guilt, however the Concise Oxford definition would no doubt differ from the actual one a mother would pen if it were she who wrote the dictionary.
I am trying to decide if this little challenge is more for him or for me, and I'm concluding that it is for us both, and I think we'll both be enriched and enlightened once we are over the initial shock of not being so joined at the hip.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Shhhhhh
What is that noise? Oh, yeah, it's nothing. Lil' Miss is playing happily on the floor and the Man has just taken the boy off to Grandmas for the afternoon. Lil' Miss and I are delighting in the not often found company of our own silence.
Ah, no, there it goes, I knew it wouldn't last long - "Mummy, why aren't you picking me up"?, she calls, in cheekily disguised baby language" And so I caved, and here I sit one handed typing or hunting and pecking as we used to call it in fifth form typing.
Once again it's been some time since I sat here and did this, but seeing as the house is relatively tidy, and there's only a short while til my chiropractic appointment, I decided, it was time to open the old lappy up for a bit of a rant.
I can't believe how fast the weeks are rolling around, it's already mid-year and the old casseroles are starting to nourish us regularly now. It's great this hearty winter food, definately better than the rabbit food we feed ourselves in the summer, don't get me wrong, I'm all for a good salad, but night after night trying to use up the same old ingredients, becomes a bit blah.
And isn't it nice to sit down at lunch time and tuck into a bowl of lovely home made soup and toast cut into soldiers, yum. Got to have the soldiers. I remember my Grandad used to break up and put his toast in the soup. Yuck, not my cup of tea, not into soggy bread, but what do you know, as if history repeats itself, the boy has decided he likes his soup crumb ridden also.
Ah winter, ah soup, ah silence. Well, at least I know there'll be a good chunk of two of these things at our house.
Ah, no, there it goes, I knew it wouldn't last long - "Mummy, why aren't you picking me up"?, she calls, in cheekily disguised baby language" And so I caved, and here I sit one handed typing or hunting and pecking as we used to call it in fifth form typing.
Once again it's been some time since I sat here and did this, but seeing as the house is relatively tidy, and there's only a short while til my chiropractic appointment, I decided, it was time to open the old lappy up for a bit of a rant.
I can't believe how fast the weeks are rolling around, it's already mid-year and the old casseroles are starting to nourish us regularly now. It's great this hearty winter food, definately better than the rabbit food we feed ourselves in the summer, don't get me wrong, I'm all for a good salad, but night after night trying to use up the same old ingredients, becomes a bit blah.
And isn't it nice to sit down at lunch time and tuck into a bowl of lovely home made soup and toast cut into soldiers, yum. Got to have the soldiers. I remember my Grandad used to break up and put his toast in the soup. Yuck, not my cup of tea, not into soggy bread, but what do you know, as if history repeats itself, the boy has decided he likes his soup crumb ridden also.
Ah winter, ah soup, ah silence. Well, at least I know there'll be a good chunk of two of these things at our house.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
The boy's growing up
I knew the day would come, the day when I had to cut the ties and let the boy go off into the big wide world of Kindy or Pre school on his own. Friday, the reality hit when I was faced with a phone call from the local daycare where his name has been on the waiting list pretty much since lil' miss came on the scene (it's a popular place). They phoned to advise me that there was an opening, and the boy was at the top of the list for it - two mornings a week 8.30 - 12.30.
Yesterday we met the office lady and next week is his induction where he and I go along together and meet the teachers and have the grand tour.
We've been preparing him for months to the fact that he'll be going to daycare some time in the near future, and so after around five months of waiting, he's become intrigued at the whole concept which is great as he's been a very shy boy in the past, as short a time ago as three or four months I would never have dreamed it being an easy step for him to make, but now I'm feeling slightly easier about it as he's started to come out of his shell more and more in the short time he's been a big brother.
So how am I feeling? Excited for him, but sad for me all rolled into one. I guess it's a lesser version of the feeling a mum gets when her child goes off to school. I'm happy he'll be off doing something fun and learning with that sponge of his, and I'm also excited to be able to spend some alone time with lil' miss, and of course I'll have another time slot to fit more office work in (yay), but for three and a half years, this little man has been not far from my side, and I get the feeling I'm going to feel like a limb has been cut off for a wee while until I get used to it. Because as much as some days he can drive me up the wall, 99% of the time he's a cool little dude and I really love having him hanging around my feet.
Right, time to harden up. He'll be fine, and so will I, but I'm predicting that for me, the best thing about his new life to come as a big day care boy, will be picking him up and bringing him home!
Yesterday we met the office lady and next week is his induction where he and I go along together and meet the teachers and have the grand tour.
We've been preparing him for months to the fact that he'll be going to daycare some time in the near future, and so after around five months of waiting, he's become intrigued at the whole concept which is great as he's been a very shy boy in the past, as short a time ago as three or four months I would never have dreamed it being an easy step for him to make, but now I'm feeling slightly easier about it as he's started to come out of his shell more and more in the short time he's been a big brother.
So how am I feeling? Excited for him, but sad for me all rolled into one. I guess it's a lesser version of the feeling a mum gets when her child goes off to school. I'm happy he'll be off doing something fun and learning with that sponge of his, and I'm also excited to be able to spend some alone time with lil' miss, and of course I'll have another time slot to fit more office work in (yay), but for three and a half years, this little man has been not far from my side, and I get the feeling I'm going to feel like a limb has been cut off for a wee while until I get used to it. Because as much as some days he can drive me up the wall, 99% of the time he's a cool little dude and I really love having him hanging around my feet.
Right, time to harden up. He'll be fine, and so will I, but I'm predicting that for me, the best thing about his new life to come as a big day care boy, will be picking him up and bringing him home!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Motherhood on the world wide web
I've been googling a bit recently. I've offered to make a friends wedding cake in February, I've possibly bitten off more than I can chew, but in the back of my mind is that great kiwi saying "she'll be right mate". I've googled so many wedding cakes for inspiration that I'm almost set on what I can and can't achieve, and luckily for me, the bride to be in question is about as far from bridezilla as you could get, so if the big day comes and I rock on up with a jam roll from the supermarket, she'll probably just hand me a beer and say - "ah well, you tried".
To get away from my new found obsession for googling wedding cakes, I decided to google poems about motherhood instead with the intention of posting one on my blog - hey why not? There were loads of them as you could well imagine, and after much deliberation, I settled on this wee funny about being a mum (well, mom actually)...
You Know Your a Mom When...
1. You count the sprinkles on each kid's cupcake to make sure they're equal.
2. You find yourself cutting your husbands' sandwiches into cute shapes.
3. You can't bear to give away baby clothes - it's so final.
4. You hear your mother's voice coming out of your mouth when you say,
"NOT in your good clothes!"
5. You stop criticizing the way your mother raised you.
6. You hire a sitter because you haven't been out with your husband in ages, then spend half the night checking on the kids.
7. You say at least once a day, "I'm not cut out for this job", but you know you wouldn't trade it for anything
To get away from my new found obsession for googling wedding cakes, I decided to google poems about motherhood instead with the intention of posting one on my blog - hey why not? There were loads of them as you could well imagine, and after much deliberation, I settled on this wee funny about being a mum (well, mom actually)...
You Know Your a Mom When...
1. You count the sprinkles on each kid's cupcake to make sure they're equal.
2. You find yourself cutting your husbands' sandwiches into cute shapes.
3. You can't bear to give away baby clothes - it's so final.
4. You hear your mother's voice coming out of your mouth when you say,
"NOT in your good clothes!"
5. You stop criticizing the way your mother raised you.
6. You hire a sitter because you haven't been out with your husband in ages, then spend half the night checking on the kids.
7. You say at least once a day, "I'm not cut out for this job", but you know you wouldn't trade it for anything
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Dear Blog
18th of May, surely not, surely I've written in you since then. Double check. Nope, 18th of May it was. How slack is that, I started off with a hiss and a roar, but now, like my washing pile, you've been left neglected as another hour, day, week flutters by.
I do apologise for not popping in sooner, I hope you've not suffered from boredom during my absence. I certainly haven't been bored. Tired, but not bored.
I have been woken from slumber untold times the last week or two as Lil' Miss has been either teething, growth spurting or sick. She even managed to wake her big bro one night with her 2am antics. She's not much of a crier, more of a 'hey I'm awake and I'd love some company, can you hear me... huh hmm, hello..." kind of a gal. Last night was the best sleep I've had for quite some time. 10pm right through until 3.45am - woop woop! Lucky for everyone else in the family because Mummy - sleep = grumpy monster, and although aside from the fact that I'm not a morning person, the man in particular has learnt to be extra tipey toey around his sleep deprived Mrs.
So Blog, hopefully from that small summary you'll see why I've not been the ideal blogger of late. I hope you'll forgive me and not do funny things with my fonts or other shenanigans in order to teach me a lesson for not being as devoted to you as I intended.
Even though this has been short and sweet, I promise I will write again soon, perhaps a little more next time.
Yours
Jo
kiss kiss hug hug
I do apologise for not popping in sooner, I hope you've not suffered from boredom during my absence. I certainly haven't been bored. Tired, but not bored.
I have been woken from slumber untold times the last week or two as Lil' Miss has been either teething, growth spurting or sick. She even managed to wake her big bro one night with her 2am antics. She's not much of a crier, more of a 'hey I'm awake and I'd love some company, can you hear me... huh hmm, hello..." kind of a gal. Last night was the best sleep I've had for quite some time. 10pm right through until 3.45am - woop woop! Lucky for everyone else in the family because Mummy - sleep = grumpy monster, and although aside from the fact that I'm not a morning person, the man in particular has learnt to be extra tipey toey around his sleep deprived Mrs.
So Blog, hopefully from that small summary you'll see why I've not been the ideal blogger of late. I hope you'll forgive me and not do funny things with my fonts or other shenanigans in order to teach me a lesson for not being as devoted to you as I intended.
Even though this has been short and sweet, I promise I will write again soon, perhaps a little more next time.
Yours
Jo
kiss kiss hug hug
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Payment in the form of?
I enjoyed some lovely time out yesterday in the form of a haircut. One whole hour of me time and being pampered was just the icing on the cake.
Now, as much as I want to have alone time, and put motherhood behind me for a short while, there are always those kiddie remnants left behind in my handbag reminding me that there are two mini me's at home who although not with me, are obviously going to be in my thoughts no matter how hard I try.
So, I'd had my hour long 'make over' and trotted on up to the counter feeling, well, pretty shit hot really, it's been at least six months since I even set foot in the hair salon, so needless to say I was feeling like a whole new woman.
Time to pay. I love it how when you go to settle your bill at an establishment, they are in the habit of asking you 'and how would you like to pay for that'? It's pretty obvious that the answer to the question is going to be eftpos, cash or gift voucher. But I wonder what would happen if I requested paying by way of handbag contents? Saturday's handbag was light, I'd manged to take out the nappy, wipes, drink bottle and spare size 3 undies before I left the house, however, with every good handbag comes zip compartments, and very early on in my career as a mother, I obtained the skill of shoving random objects into said compartments. Saturdays handbag also contained the following...
1 x used black drinking straw
1 x one legged army man
1 x drink bottle top
1 x iceblock stick
1 x old style 50c piece
1.5 x (very) soft cracker biscuits
1 x tissue (possibly used)
2 x previous weeks grocery lists
1 x lolly wrapper (guilty)
1 x little pink sock
1 x army man's machine gun
No, probably not much in there worth trying to pay with, but every random object in my handbag comes from a special moment in time, spent with special little people, and that's why, no matter where I am, they'll always be along for the ride.
Now, as much as I want to have alone time, and put motherhood behind me for a short while, there are always those kiddie remnants left behind in my handbag reminding me that there are two mini me's at home who although not with me, are obviously going to be in my thoughts no matter how hard I try.
So, I'd had my hour long 'make over' and trotted on up to the counter feeling, well, pretty shit hot really, it's been at least six months since I even set foot in the hair salon, so needless to say I was feeling like a whole new woman.
Time to pay. I love it how when you go to settle your bill at an establishment, they are in the habit of asking you 'and how would you like to pay for that'? It's pretty obvious that the answer to the question is going to be eftpos, cash or gift voucher. But I wonder what would happen if I requested paying by way of handbag contents? Saturday's handbag was light, I'd manged to take out the nappy, wipes, drink bottle and spare size 3 undies before I left the house, however, with every good handbag comes zip compartments, and very early on in my career as a mother, I obtained the skill of shoving random objects into said compartments. Saturdays handbag also contained the following...
1 x used black drinking straw
1 x one legged army man
1 x drink bottle top
1 x iceblock stick
1 x old style 50c piece
1.5 x (very) soft cracker biscuits
1 x tissue (possibly used)
2 x previous weeks grocery lists
1 x lolly wrapper (guilty)
1 x little pink sock
1 x army man's machine gun
No, probably not much in there worth trying to pay with, but every random object in my handbag comes from a special moment in time, spent with special little people, and that's why, no matter where I am, they'll always be along for the ride.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Snuggles
As the weather cools down, and the nights get that little bit longer, it's starting to feel just that little bit more snuggly. The boy is over snuggling now that he's three, except on the odd occasion that he might hurt himself, or feel unwell. And lil' miss isn't quite at the snuggly stage yet, she's big enough to wrap your arms around but of course at five months, hasn't quite caught onto the concept of snuggling for the sake of snuggling.
I do manage to get the odd sneaky snuggle in with the boy in the form of when he's all wrapped up in a towel after a shower - kind of cheating in the snuggle stakes, but I'll take what I can get. There's something special about a kid in a towel all warm and smelling nice rather than freezing cold because they've been playing in the puddles at 5pm or smelly because they've been playing in the mud - both activities totally irresistible to three year old boys.
Winter is great. Most people prefer summer, but in all honesty, I border on being a winter girl myself. Not that I'm a ski bunny or anything close, in fact, far from it, but I quite enjoy the dark nights, heater on, winter food - especially soup, kids in fleecy jammies, the adrenaline of the speed in which one has to dry oneself upon stepping out of the shower in order not to have to leap straight back in to warm up.
I've always enjoyed a nice hot long shower, another reason why winter is the perfect time of year for me. Being a mother now too, only adds to the niceness of the 'me-time' in the 900 x 900 square box of a shower. I've got clever too. I used to be a morning shower gal but with morning showers, the man is usually at work by shower time, and so with it usually comes "muuuuuuuuuuuum", and it's just not the same having the door opened mid shampoo rinse to disassemble a toy harbouring another toy jambed inside. So now, needless to say, I've switched to evening bathing. In peace and quite. It's quite a luxury, as only a mother would know. And just like snuggles with a three year old, I kind of cheat at showers too, you see, I am able to stay in just that bit longer at night, as by the time his head hits the pillow, the man is fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that water conservation is not my forte. (Sorry Green party, but we all have our once vice).
I do manage to get the odd sneaky snuggle in with the boy in the form of when he's all wrapped up in a towel after a shower - kind of cheating in the snuggle stakes, but I'll take what I can get. There's something special about a kid in a towel all warm and smelling nice rather than freezing cold because they've been playing in the puddles at 5pm or smelly because they've been playing in the mud - both activities totally irresistible to three year old boys.
Winter is great. Most people prefer summer, but in all honesty, I border on being a winter girl myself. Not that I'm a ski bunny or anything close, in fact, far from it, but I quite enjoy the dark nights, heater on, winter food - especially soup, kids in fleecy jammies, the adrenaline of the speed in which one has to dry oneself upon stepping out of the shower in order not to have to leap straight back in to warm up.
I've always enjoyed a nice hot long shower, another reason why winter is the perfect time of year for me. Being a mother now too, only adds to the niceness of the 'me-time' in the 900 x 900 square box of a shower. I've got clever too. I used to be a morning shower gal but with morning showers, the man is usually at work by shower time, and so with it usually comes "muuuuuuuuuuuum", and it's just not the same having the door opened mid shampoo rinse to disassemble a toy harbouring another toy jambed inside. So now, needless to say, I've switched to evening bathing. In peace and quite. It's quite a luxury, as only a mother would know. And just like snuggles with a three year old, I kind of cheat at showers too, you see, I am able to stay in just that bit longer at night, as by the time his head hits the pillow, the man is fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that water conservation is not my forte. (Sorry Green party, but we all have our once vice).
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Colour Schemes, Friends and Mothers
Who would have thought that choosing the colour scheme for a house was so complicated. Enthusiastically, yesterday I headed down to the decorating shop to familiarise myself with their wallpaper samples, samples which I thought would be fairly simple to sort through, boy how wrong I was. There was a good 30 books I'd guess without counting, and after about a half hour of browsing while lil' miss slept and the boy entertained his Grandma at home with his antics, I returned home with a fried brain.
Now, I had a rough idea of what it was we were after, but when you combine, carpet, wallpaper, paint and then sub label them into categories of texture, colour, style & such like, it all becomes about as blurry as a shower door without the fan going.
So this morning, not unlike a contestant from 'Who wants to be a millionaire' we decided to call a friend for help. A friend in the form of a fellow mother, and interior designer. (Hi T if you're reading this!) Tonight I sit here happily with the sample books spread out on the living room floor, spread out much differently than last night, because tonight they're open to the most perfect colours for us. The colours of our new house. Nothing too plain, nothing too fancy, but the odd bit of wow factor thrown in to mix it up a bit. Wow factor that I'm now 100% sure will work just from having that little bit of input from someone who knows what they're talking about.
I love being a mum. Not just the cliche part about it being the most rewarding job in the world (it is, it's great, but of course has its moments like every other job), but something that's really great about being a mum is the network of friends you make, and the array of careers we have evolved from. What other form of employ (can you call it that if you're not on the payroll?) can you 'work' with so many interesting people, all with knowledge on different topics?
So while we all have been through (or are going through) nappy brain, sleep deprivation, tanties and teething, we can all enjoy proudly our pre-mummy days too, and look forward to returning to the workforce far more enriched than when we left it to endure motherhood.
Happy Mothers Day to all my gorgeous friends -
that includes you mum.
Now, I had a rough idea of what it was we were after, but when you combine, carpet, wallpaper, paint and then sub label them into categories of texture, colour, style & such like, it all becomes about as blurry as a shower door without the fan going.
So this morning, not unlike a contestant from 'Who wants to be a millionaire' we decided to call a friend for help. A friend in the form of a fellow mother, and interior designer. (Hi T if you're reading this!) Tonight I sit here happily with the sample books spread out on the living room floor, spread out much differently than last night, because tonight they're open to the most perfect colours for us. The colours of our new house. Nothing too plain, nothing too fancy, but the odd bit of wow factor thrown in to mix it up a bit. Wow factor that I'm now 100% sure will work just from having that little bit of input from someone who knows what they're talking about.
I love being a mum. Not just the cliche part about it being the most rewarding job in the world (it is, it's great, but of course has its moments like every other job), but something that's really great about being a mum is the network of friends you make, and the array of careers we have evolved from. What other form of employ (can you call it that if you're not on the payroll?) can you 'work' with so many interesting people, all with knowledge on different topics?
So while we all have been through (or are going through) nappy brain, sleep deprivation, tanties and teething, we can all enjoy proudly our pre-mummy days too, and look forward to returning to the workforce far more enriched than when we left it to endure motherhood.
Happy Mothers Day to all my gorgeous friends -
that includes you mum.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Sugar and Spice
I couldn't find the chocolate. Disaster. How would we survive our nightly cuppa without snapping a piece or two off the king sized bock? Only since being pregnant and having lil' miss have I acquired more of a fondness for the sweet treat. All of my life I've been more of an ETA Ripples kind of a gal. But now it seems sugar and spice and all things nice have become me.
Now, I knew I was the one who put it to rest last night (like everything else at our house hehehe), but where the hell had it gone? I searched high and low, nope, not in the pantry, not in the fridge, checked the pantry again, nope definitely not in there. Right-o time for the fridge to surrender it. I knew it must be in there somewhere looking out laughing, waving at me "yoohoo, here I am" then hiding itself back behind the marge. On further inspection, and much removal of fridge content, there it was, longways down a gap in the shelf which up until now I hadn't even noticed existed. Possibly a sign from the Gods that we didn't need sweets tonight, a sign I was determined to ignore.
Good things came of not being able to find the chocolate though, every cloud has a silver lining and the silver lining here being that the fridge got the decluttering it's been deserving for quite some time now. It was getting to the stage that if it was left for much longer, there would have been that mystery package of 'hmmm, wonder what that used to be' lurking in the back.
So that's one thing I can cross off my list of things to do before the weekend. But no doubt, by breakfast time tomorrow, I will have added something else to the bottom of the list.
Sigh. Crinkle, Snap, mmmmmmmmmm chocolate.
Now, I knew I was the one who put it to rest last night (like everything else at our house hehehe), but where the hell had it gone? I searched high and low, nope, not in the pantry, not in the fridge, checked the pantry again, nope definitely not in there. Right-o time for the fridge to surrender it. I knew it must be in there somewhere looking out laughing, waving at me "yoohoo, here I am" then hiding itself back behind the marge. On further inspection, and much removal of fridge content, there it was, longways down a gap in the shelf which up until now I hadn't even noticed existed. Possibly a sign from the Gods that we didn't need sweets tonight, a sign I was determined to ignore.
Good things came of not being able to find the chocolate though, every cloud has a silver lining and the silver lining here being that the fridge got the decluttering it's been deserving for quite some time now. It was getting to the stage that if it was left for much longer, there would have been that mystery package of 'hmmm, wonder what that used to be' lurking in the back.
So that's one thing I can cross off my list of things to do before the weekend. But no doubt, by breakfast time tomorrow, I will have added something else to the bottom of the list.
Sigh. Crinkle, Snap, mmmmmmmmmm chocolate.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Rock Chick
We did it. We got to the concert on time!
Several weeks of stressing amounted to nothing as two children were fed, bathed and off to bed like perfect little examples.
I had pre-prettied myself and all that was left to do was to change out of my mummy top and into my rock chick top. Brother in law in doorway jingling keys, sister in law reassuring me all would be fine, the man tapping his feet already in anticipation, and me, well, I was in a flap trying to work out a solution to every senario that may (or may not as it turned out) play out while we were gone.
So we were off, and on time too. Excitement set in as we crossed the harbour bridge, the realisation that not only were the man and I having a long time awaited night out without kids, but we were also off to see our favourites the Foo Fighters. And we weren't disappointed. The Vector Arena was jam packed with rock fans, a good percentage of them of our vintage. The band played for a good two hours with hilarious comedic interludes, and get this, part way through, a whole stage dropped down from the rooftop, instruments and all, talk about wow factor, the band then proceeded to play a set right there in the middle of the stadium - great for those of us down the far end, but not so great for those general admission folk up the front who'd queued for hours prior to get their prime spots, not to despair though, as eventually the band did make their way back to the original stage.
So all in all a fantastic night, and like our recent trip to Queenstown, I could rave on about it for ever. Next time they come, hopefully the boy will be old enough to take along. Through no fault of his own he is the worlds youngest Foo Fan, and I will speak for him when I say that his parents are very cool to have attended the worlds best rock concert!
Several weeks of stressing amounted to nothing as two children were fed, bathed and off to bed like perfect little examples.
I had pre-prettied myself and all that was left to do was to change out of my mummy top and into my rock chick top. Brother in law in doorway jingling keys, sister in law reassuring me all would be fine, the man tapping his feet already in anticipation, and me, well, I was in a flap trying to work out a solution to every senario that may (or may not as it turned out) play out while we were gone.
So we were off, and on time too. Excitement set in as we crossed the harbour bridge, the realisation that not only were the man and I having a long time awaited night out without kids, but we were also off to see our favourites the Foo Fighters. And we weren't disappointed. The Vector Arena was jam packed with rock fans, a good percentage of them of our vintage. The band played for a good two hours with hilarious comedic interludes, and get this, part way through, a whole stage dropped down from the rooftop, instruments and all, talk about wow factor, the band then proceeded to play a set right there in the middle of the stadium - great for those of us down the far end, but not so great for those general admission folk up the front who'd queued for hours prior to get their prime spots, not to despair though, as eventually the band did make their way back to the original stage.
So all in all a fantastic night, and like our recent trip to Queenstown, I could rave on about it for ever. Next time they come, hopefully the boy will be old enough to take along. Through no fault of his own he is the worlds youngest Foo Fan, and I will speak for him when I say that his parents are very cool to have attended the worlds best rock concert!
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Photo Enthusiast
I've recently joined the VIP club at the local photo processing place. Now this is great for me because I get photos developed really cheap, but I have to wonder, how often does one have to be at a shop before they are considered a VIP? I hope they don't see me as one of those annoying customers which all the staff mumble - oh no, here she comes again to get her three prints done urgently and not pick them up until tomorrow. No, I don't think so, I've actually spent my fair share of dosh recently getting prints done, and our local photo lab guy understands my enthusiasm completely, because apart from being a photographer (albeit slightly, no, 100% more professional than me), he is also a dad with two young children for subjects.
They're offering a new service of having photos screenprinted on to canvas. I've seen it before in a magazine, but yesterday I had a look at one of the real things, and now I'm all inspired to go out and take some arty snapshots to hang up in this manner in our new house, the personal touch. I'm easily swayed away from my rather expensive taste in art I saw at The Mount a few weeks ago. All the paintings I like are well over the $1000 mark. Sigh.
I guess I could take the camera with me to Auckland today, yes, we're off again. Right jet setters at the moment. As a mum, I tend to pop the camera in the bag no matter where we go, just on the off chance that a cute shot may arise, and I did get a couple of good ones at the sister in laws last time we were there, a really nice one of her holding lil' miss, including a fresh baby badge atop her lovely handwash only jumper. Hehehe, ah, handwash only, those were the days.
Ok, now sitting here obviously isn't getting the bag packed. So, off I go down to the haystack that is our washing pile, to find those ever asked for black socks which I always remember to pack, and yet am always quizzed on whether or not I remembered them!
They're offering a new service of having photos screenprinted on to canvas. I've seen it before in a magazine, but yesterday I had a look at one of the real things, and now I'm all inspired to go out and take some arty snapshots to hang up in this manner in our new house, the personal touch. I'm easily swayed away from my rather expensive taste in art I saw at The Mount a few weeks ago. All the paintings I like are well over the $1000 mark. Sigh.
I guess I could take the camera with me to Auckland today, yes, we're off again. Right jet setters at the moment. As a mum, I tend to pop the camera in the bag no matter where we go, just on the off chance that a cute shot may arise, and I did get a couple of good ones at the sister in laws last time we were there, a really nice one of her holding lil' miss, including a fresh baby badge atop her lovely handwash only jumper. Hehehe, ah, handwash only, those were the days.
Ok, now sitting here obviously isn't getting the bag packed. So, off I go down to the haystack that is our washing pile, to find those ever asked for black socks which I always remember to pack, and yet am always quizzed on whether or not I remembered them!
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Postcards from Queenstown
Ever been for a holiday in a painting? I have, Queenstown in Autumn. One word can sum up my opinion on the place and that's simply - wow.
Beautiful autumn trees jutting out from the mountains waiting for their first dusting of snow, in auburn, gold & crimson, quite possibly the most beautiful trees I've ever seen.
We set off to Auckland on Friday with 'one more sleep' up our sleeve, a very well behaved boy in the back didn't even kick the back of my seat, not even once, ah the power of the bribe.
Saturday morning we headed off to the airplane port as the boy likes to call it, not having to rush or stress too much as my sister in law who works for the airline managed to pre-book seats for us, so all we had to do was check our bags in. All of our bags, and the stroller.
To try and make life easier, in my wisdom I decided to go with the hands free option of putting lil' miss in the front pack, this turned out not to be the best idea, in a combined effort between her domes hidden underneath layers of clothing, and my bracelet that only comes off with the help of a little bit of butter, we managed to set off the security beeper. Needless to say on the return flight, the front pack was checked through with the luggage.
On arrival we were spoilt with a gorgeous crisp midday view of the remarkables. I can see why they call them that. Rental van arranged and determined to only make one trip, the men managed to squeeze 6 adults, 2 kids in car seats, 8 bags, one hired port-a-cot, and one stroller into said van. If we had an accident, even me sitting in the centre middle, unable to reach my seat belt, and a v line to the front windscreen, wouldn't have fallen out, we were packed in like sardines.
Sightseeing was great, picture postcard perfect, the Crown range via Arrowtown offered another fantastic view, and Wanaka, although cold was a wonderful place to have our picnic lunch.
We shopped, tried the local wines, cheeses & fudge, we explored the toy and transport museum, lunched at the wharf, rode the gondolas, the man even took the boy on the luge, thrice, much to my over protective despair (dork).
Queenstown was a hidden treasure for me, I can't believe it has taken 30 years for me to discover it. It won't take another 30 for me to go back that's for sure.
I could write forever about our adventure, but rather than babble on about it, I've just included some p
hotos of the scenery, after all a
s the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words.
Beautiful autumn trees jutting out from the mountains waiting for their first dusting of snow, in auburn, gold & crimson, quite possibly the most beautiful trees I've ever seen.
We set off to Auckland on Friday with 'one more sleep' up our sleeve, a very well behaved boy in the back didn't even kick the back of my seat, not even once, ah the power of the bribe.
Saturday morning we headed off to the airplane port as the boy likes to call it, not having to rush or stress too much as my sister in law who works for the airline managed to pre-book seats for us, so all we had to do was check our bags in. All of our bags, and the stroller.
To try and make life easier, in my wisdom I decided to go with the hands free option of putting lil' miss in the front pack, this turned out not to be the best idea, in a combined effort between her domes hidden underneath layers of clothing, and my bracelet that only comes off with the help of a little bit of butter, we managed to set off the security beeper. Needless to say on the return flight, the front pack was checked through with the luggage.
On arrival we were spoilt with a gorgeous crisp midday view of the remarkables. I can see why they call them that. Rental van arranged and determined to only make one trip, the men managed to squeeze 6 adults, 2 kids in car seats, 8 bags, one hired port-a-cot, and one stroller into said van. If we had an accident, even me sitting in the centre middle, unable to reach my seat belt, and a v line to the front windscreen, wouldn't have fallen out, we were packed in like sardines.
Sightseeing was great, picture postcard perfect, the Crown range via Arrowtown offered another fantastic view, and Wanaka, although cold was a wonderful place to have our picnic lunch.
We shopped, tried the local wines, cheeses & fudge, we explored the toy and transport museum, lunched at the wharf, rode the gondolas, the man even took the boy on the luge, thrice, much to my over protective despair (dork).
Queenstown was a hidden treasure for me, I can't believe it has taken 30 years for me to discover it. It won't take another 30 for me to go back that's for sure.
I could write forever about our adventure, but rather than babble on about it, I've just included some p
hotos of the scenery, after all a
s the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Queenstown here we come
It's that time of year again - end of Financial year, and also annual family trip time. Last year we scooted up to Paihia via Taumaranui, we seem to make a habit of these off the beaten track tiki tours on the way to places, Easter weekend we went to Auckland via Ohaupo.
This year we're off to Queenstown and the excitement from the boy is growing as the 'sleeps' are crossed off the calendar at the dinner table. I love how you can relate time to kids in the form of sleeps, particularly since day sleeps have long become a thing of the past. We used to use the term 'big sleeps' up until then.
I've never been to Queenstown, and up until a couple of years ago, I'm ashamed to say I'd never even been to the South island. It's a shame that it costs about as much to head over the ditch as it does to go to the South Island, and so all things home grown are traded in for an overseas trip in many cases as people seem to feel somewhat less ripped off in heading abroad for a few days.
I have to pack the bags today, well actually it would have been bag had it not been for an 'on the scrounge' call to the parents to acquire ourselves another suitcase because I really didn't think our suitcase plus our second bag option of the Thomas suitcase was going to make the cut for two adults and two kids. And so, with bag packing of course comes clothes folding, I'm just hoping that by the time I finish writing this that the magic clothes folding fairy will have been and done it all for me, oh, that's right, I am the magic clothes folding fairy!
So on that note, I'll be signing off until we return, and I will be back with plenty of Queenstown antics... but not before I've tackled all the Queenstown washing!
This year we're off to Queenstown and the excitement from the boy is growing as the 'sleeps' are crossed off the calendar at the dinner table. I love how you can relate time to kids in the form of sleeps, particularly since day sleeps have long become a thing of the past. We used to use the term 'big sleeps' up until then.
I've never been to Queenstown, and up until a couple of years ago, I'm ashamed to say I'd never even been to the South island. It's a shame that it costs about as much to head over the ditch as it does to go to the South Island, and so all things home grown are traded in for an overseas trip in many cases as people seem to feel somewhat less ripped off in heading abroad for a few days.
I have to pack the bags today, well actually it would have been bag had it not been for an 'on the scrounge' call to the parents to acquire ourselves another suitcase because I really didn't think our suitcase plus our second bag option of the Thomas suitcase was going to make the cut for two adults and two kids. And so, with bag packing of course comes clothes folding, I'm just hoping that by the time I finish writing this that the magic clothes folding fairy will have been and done it all for me, oh, that's right, I am the magic clothes folding fairy!
So on that note, I'll be signing off until we return, and I will be back with plenty of Queenstown antics... but not before I've tackled all the Queenstown washing!
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Windows anyone?
It's exciting stuff building a house. A dream come true I would even say and yesterday the ball was definately on the roll when we had the very official sounding 'exterior meeting'.
When you move in to a home, everything is all set up, you look around and think to yourself - 'ah, yes, I could cook in that kitchen, bathroom's nice and big, oh windowsills need a paint, I'll put that on the to do list'... but when you build you get to choose things that I wouldn't have ever considered having a say on. For example - the windows, it was part of the exterior decision making process yesterday to choose which side the windows open on - left or right. What the? I thought windows were windows and that was all there was to it, but it appears not.
I'm glad that the man and I pretty much agree on colours and design (notice I say pretty much), I wasn't really all that concerned about the colour of the bricks for the exterior, or even the colour of the roof, but so help me if he doesn't like the same colour kitchen as me, there's going to be trouble! I think it's only fair that the person who spends the most time in a room gets the most say on how that room will appear, well, to a certain extent, the boy informed me yesterday that he wants a yellow bedroom and red curtains - cute if you're three, probably not so cute when you're 10, and absolutely positively not cutie cutie when you're 15. So I think we might have to come to some sort of a compromise on that one, I'm picking Fire Engines on the curtains might just about do it.
I think I'll be the Henry Ford of houses, not 'you can have any colour as long as it''s black', more 'you can have any colour as long as it's Mummy's.' Yep, sounds fair to me.
When you move in to a home, everything is all set up, you look around and think to yourself - 'ah, yes, I could cook in that kitchen, bathroom's nice and big, oh windowsills need a paint, I'll put that on the to do list'... but when you build you get to choose things that I wouldn't have ever considered having a say on. For example - the windows, it was part of the exterior decision making process yesterday to choose which side the windows open on - left or right. What the? I thought windows were windows and that was all there was to it, but it appears not.
I'm glad that the man and I pretty much agree on colours and design (notice I say pretty much), I wasn't really all that concerned about the colour of the bricks for the exterior, or even the colour of the roof, but so help me if he doesn't like the same colour kitchen as me, there's going to be trouble! I think it's only fair that the person who spends the most time in a room gets the most say on how that room will appear, well, to a certain extent, the boy informed me yesterday that he wants a yellow bedroom and red curtains - cute if you're three, probably not so cute when you're 10, and absolutely positively not cutie cutie when you're 15. So I think we might have to come to some sort of a compromise on that one, I'm picking Fire Engines on the curtains might just about do it.
I think I'll be the Henry Ford of houses, not 'you can have any colour as long as it''s black', more 'you can have any colour as long as it's Mummy's.' Yep, sounds fair to me.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Eco Eco Eco Oi Oi Oi
I'm too lazy to use cloth nappies. There, as hard as it is to do, I admit it. I like to think I do my bit for the environment, but in the past 12 months I've only seen the bottom of my washing basket about four times, and therefore I cannot see much point in giving myself any additional loads.
When the boy was about 18 months old, I discovered Bio Nappies. Hooray, a guilt free disposable alternative for those of us who want to do the right thing but love the convenience of good old poop 'n' chuck'ems. In reading about Moltex Eco Nappies, they have similar impact on the environment as modern cloth nappies, and to top it off they're unbleached, so no nasty chemicals sitting against tiny little bottoms.
I ran out the other week, and so had to do the unthinkable and buy some treasures. They're so pretty, all covered in shapes and squiggles, but what a difference in the old rubbish bag department. Plus, with a lil' girl with eczema, I've certainly noticed a difference with irritation around the leg area.
I've been the recycling warden at our house this week, I'm quite proud of our efforts. We've been a bit slack of late I must admit, but not as slack as some people around the neighbourhood. Not that I go looking in peoples green bins, 'cause that would be a bit stalkerish, but I do notice when driving by that some houses have several blue plastic rubbish bags out, and the odd milk bottle in the green bin, and then there's the even worse offenders who don't use the green bin at all. (Or perhaps I've miss judged and they're completely self sufficient and have no recycling because they have no packaging.)
I want the planet to still be here for my kids, grand kids and beyond, so in an albeit slightly late New Year's resolution , I've decided that I'm going to make a more conscious effort to do as Bob the Builder suggests - Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. It's really not all that hard.
When the boy was about 18 months old, I discovered Bio Nappies. Hooray, a guilt free disposable alternative for those of us who want to do the right thing but love the convenience of good old poop 'n' chuck'ems. In reading about Moltex Eco Nappies, they have similar impact on the environment as modern cloth nappies, and to top it off they're unbleached, so no nasty chemicals sitting against tiny little bottoms.
I ran out the other week, and so had to do the unthinkable and buy some treasures. They're so pretty, all covered in shapes and squiggles, but what a difference in the old rubbish bag department. Plus, with a lil' girl with eczema, I've certainly noticed a difference with irritation around the leg area.
I've been the recycling warden at our house this week, I'm quite proud of our efforts. We've been a bit slack of late I must admit, but not as slack as some people around the neighbourhood. Not that I go looking in peoples green bins, 'cause that would be a bit stalkerish, but I do notice when driving by that some houses have several blue plastic rubbish bags out, and the odd milk bottle in the green bin, and then there's the even worse offenders who don't use the green bin at all. (Or perhaps I've miss judged and they're completely self sufficient and have no recycling because they have no packaging.)
I want the planet to still be here for my kids, grand kids and beyond, so in an albeit slightly late New Year's resolution , I've decided that I'm going to make a more conscious effort to do as Bob the Builder suggests - Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. It's really not all that hard.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Doof Doof
My memory is shot. It's all part of being a mum, and yet I'm amazed when I hear a song on the radio how memories can come flooding back, who, why, where, when, how, all from the simple art of putting pen to paper, microphone to amp and needle to vinyl.
We were trying to guess the year of a song just the other day, when it dawned on me that particular song must have been about ten years old because I remember driving to work at the Mount listening to Nick and Rog on the Rock and that song being on in between commercials.
A few minutes ago (not long before I caved and put Hi-Five on), Wilson Phillips came on the radio, I think the song's called 'Release Me' I remember when that came out, and how much I loved one of the singers bowl hair cuts, but wasn't quite brave enough to have my own locks styled like that. In hindsight, being non adventurous in the hair department turned out to be a good thing on that count.
Theres are songs I relate to people I know too. Like every time I hear 'Life is a Highway' I think of the day I followed a 'speedway chic' out to the local track when it was in its prime. I could see her jigging around in the drivers seat and her rear view mirror was set just right for me to see her lips singing along. When we arrived in neighbouring car park spaces, I asked her what she was listening to and she informed me it was 'Life is a Highway', she had it up 'full bore' 'cause the kids weren't in the car.
As a mum with 3.33 years experience under her belt, I can now appreciate her sentiment. I too can be seen roaring down to the post office or bank with my sounds blaring in the old cleche of a family wagon I call my car.
So now when I'm out and about and I hear a car approaching with music bellowing, I try not to jump to conclusions and pass it off as a 'blardy boy racer', I check it out, and if I see a woman riding solo, I say to myself - 'you go girl'!
We were trying to guess the year of a song just the other day, when it dawned on me that particular song must have been about ten years old because I remember driving to work at the Mount listening to Nick and Rog on the Rock and that song being on in between commercials.
A few minutes ago (not long before I caved and put Hi-Five on), Wilson Phillips came on the radio, I think the song's called 'Release Me' I remember when that came out, and how much I loved one of the singers bowl hair cuts, but wasn't quite brave enough to have my own locks styled like that. In hindsight, being non adventurous in the hair department turned out to be a good thing on that count.
Theres are songs I relate to people I know too. Like every time I hear 'Life is a Highway' I think of the day I followed a 'speedway chic' out to the local track when it was in its prime. I could see her jigging around in the drivers seat and her rear view mirror was set just right for me to see her lips singing along. When we arrived in neighbouring car park spaces, I asked her what she was listening to and she informed me it was 'Life is a Highway', she had it up 'full bore' 'cause the kids weren't in the car.
As a mum with 3.33 years experience under her belt, I can now appreciate her sentiment. I too can be seen roaring down to the post office or bank with my sounds blaring in the old cleche of a family wagon I call my car.
So now when I'm out and about and I hear a car approaching with music bellowing, I try not to jump to conclusions and pass it off as a 'blardy boy racer', I check it out, and if I see a woman riding solo, I say to myself - 'you go girl'!
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Mr Mum
I'm always grateful for the chance to spend some time quietly working on the accounts while lil' miss is asleep and the man takes the boy out to the country for the day, but it always cracks me up the way a father organises for a day out with the kid(s). From talking with other mums, I know I'm not the only one in on this little joke I like to call 'Mr Mum'.
As a mum, you have the daily chore of making sure everyone is clothed, fed and toileted before even attempting to step foot outside the door - and it appears 'everyone' includes said husband. I wonder how society would be without mums. I know that the boy would have pretty much gone out in his jammies had I not stepped in. It's not every day the man has to hunt and gather the items for 'the bag', and I'm picking it's possible he likes to run with the ignorance is bliss approach to weekend parenting.
And so I ask... "has he got a drink"?
"Oh, that'd be a good idea"
"what about a change of clothes"
"na, you wanna get some"
"ok"
"hey, how long will he hold out for lunch"?
"hmmm, here take a banana just incase, have fun, love you bye"
(aside)"hmm, talk to myself"
"J, go and say bye bye to mummy"
Cuddles all round.
Suncream and hat still sitting on bench. I run to the door.
"you think he might need a hat and suncream?"
"Oh, I'll take it just incase"
"Right, have fun"
I close door and come inside for a rest.
It really is hard work being Mr Mum!
As a mum, you have the daily chore of making sure everyone is clothed, fed and toileted before even attempting to step foot outside the door - and it appears 'everyone' includes said husband. I wonder how society would be without mums. I know that the boy would have pretty much gone out in his jammies had I not stepped in. It's not every day the man has to hunt and gather the items for 'the bag', and I'm picking it's possible he likes to run with the ignorance is bliss approach to weekend parenting.
And so I ask... "has he got a drink"?
"Oh, that'd be a good idea"
"what about a change of clothes"
"na, you wanna get some"
"ok"
"hey, how long will he hold out for lunch"?
"hmmm, here take a banana just incase, have fun, love you bye"
(aside)"hmm, talk to myself"
"J, go and say bye bye to mummy"
Cuddles all round.
Suncream and hat still sitting on bench. I run to the door.
"you think he might need a hat and suncream?"
"Oh, I'll take it just incase"
"Right, have fun"
I close door and come inside for a rest.
It really is hard work being Mr Mum!
Friday, April 18, 2008
Diving for Sharks
It was quite the adventurous afternoon at our house yesterday. Two little men with imaginations only dwarfed by their personalities played together like good little friends do.
Quite brave little boys, willing to take on the sharks by diving underneath their pirate boat, wrestling with tigers, jumping over crocodiles. Gee, aren't imaginations great. Real life adventures on the other hand can be a little more frightening...
There it stood, on the outside table, all green and insect looking. A praying mantis, a big mamma of one too might I add. Its back was to them, dancing in the autumn afternoon. They taunted it, growling like monsters and watching the way it scuttled along the table top. But then the unthinkable happened - it about faced, creeping forward in rather a hurry. Then **poof**, David Edinbourough jnr & Steve Irwin jnr turned instantly back into a couple of screaming, giggly little preschoolers. It was without a doubt the most amusing part of the afternoon - and my bet is that they'll choose diving with sharks over exploring insects next time they play together.
Quite brave little boys, willing to take on the sharks by diving underneath their pirate boat, wrestling with tigers, jumping over crocodiles. Gee, aren't imaginations great. Real life adventures on the other hand can be a little more frightening...
There it stood, on the outside table, all green and insect looking. A praying mantis, a big mamma of one too might I add. Its back was to them, dancing in the autumn afternoon. They taunted it, growling like monsters and watching the way it scuttled along the table top. But then the unthinkable happened - it about faced, creeping forward in rather a hurry. Then **poof**, David Edinbourough jnr & Steve Irwin jnr turned instantly back into a couple of screaming, giggly little preschoolers. It was without a doubt the most amusing part of the afternoon - and my bet is that they'll choose diving with sharks over exploring insects next time they play together.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
I'm no Superwoman
I've never been good with numbers, and I get myself in this mindset of 'I can't' whenever they are placed in front of me. So obviously, being the office 1/2 of a self employed couple doesn't come very naturally to me.
I thought I was the only one who struggled, the only one who should have been looking out for a little yellow 'accounts for dummies' manual. Turns out I'm not alone.
It's a hard thing to reach out and ask for help, but when you discover another mum in the same boat as you, it makes it that little bit easier to give in to the fact that one isn't Superwoman, and nor should one have to try to be. My friend G is this other mum, she is also the genius who suggested we do a babysitting swap once a week each to help each other.
I had a weight lifted off my shoulders yesterday, a weight which I was ignoring, but knew in the back of my mind was there. Yesterday was the inaugural babysitting swap, and I must add, a very proud mummy moment for me because it was the boy's first time going to play at a friends house without me there.
Today it's my turn to return the favour, and I must say I'm quite looking forward to having two little blokes to entertain, truth be told, it's probably going to be me that's entertained by their antics!
I thought I was the only one who struggled, the only one who should have been looking out for a little yellow 'accounts for dummies' manual. Turns out I'm not alone.
It's a hard thing to reach out and ask for help, but when you discover another mum in the same boat as you, it makes it that little bit easier to give in to the fact that one isn't Superwoman, and nor should one have to try to be. My friend G is this other mum, she is also the genius who suggested we do a babysitting swap once a week each to help each other.
I had a weight lifted off my shoulders yesterday, a weight which I was ignoring, but knew in the back of my mind was there. Yesterday was the inaugural babysitting swap, and I must add, a very proud mummy moment for me because it was the boy's first time going to play at a friends house without me there.
Today it's my turn to return the favour, and I must say I'm quite looking forward to having two little blokes to entertain, truth be told, it's probably going to be me that's entertained by their antics!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Limericks in the Night
My baby girl is a model baby. The saying 'sleeping like a baby' was made for her I'm sure, so it's not often I have to get up in the night to feed her, she mostly sleeps through. Last night (or should I say early this morning) she had different ideas.
Today started when the boy woke at 4.30am, the man got him back to bed no worries, phew, crises averted, but then the girl decided she wanted up too - so up gets Mummy bright eyed and bushy tailed - not.
It's funny what you think of sitting quietly in the dark in the middle of the night. Thousands of thoughts run through my mind, some profound, and some rather silly, like this limerick I made up while I was waiting for lil' miss to finish 'side two' - (inspired by her reluctance to take a bottle and my liquid gold going to waste each day after somewhat of an effort to 'harvest' it).
There once was a baby from Whiti
And drinking from bottles made her sh!tty
Mummy wants to go to a concert
But baby just never wants it
And if Mummy misses out that'd be a pitty
Now the idea of a limerick of course, is that it is a nonsense poem, so hopefully by writing a limerick about something that's true, it might somehow cancel out and our bottle feeding woes will be over.
She did show signs of cottoning on to the idea last night. So fingers crossed that in a few weeks time Mummy will be rocking along to the sounds of her youth.
Today started when the boy woke at 4.30am, the man got him back to bed no worries, phew, crises averted, but then the girl decided she wanted up too - so up gets Mummy bright eyed and bushy tailed - not.
It's funny what you think of sitting quietly in the dark in the middle of the night. Thousands of thoughts run through my mind, some profound, and some rather silly, like this limerick I made up while I was waiting for lil' miss to finish 'side two' - (inspired by her reluctance to take a bottle and my liquid gold going to waste each day after somewhat of an effort to 'harvest' it).
There once was a baby from Whiti
And drinking from bottles made her sh!tty
Mummy wants to go to a concert
But baby just never wants it
And if Mummy misses out that'd be a pitty
Now the idea of a limerick of course, is that it is a nonsense poem, so hopefully by writing a limerick about something that's true, it might somehow cancel out and our bottle feeding woes will be over.
She did show signs of cottoning on to the idea last night. So fingers crossed that in a few weeks time Mummy will be rocking along to the sounds of her youth.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
The Paper Trail
Could there be any more of a paper trail? I thought computers were supposed to cut down the hard copies cluttering up the place, but it appears not.
I went and cleared the PO box yesterday, and granted it had been a few days since I last emptied it, can you believe, I spent the best part of an hour last night opening and sorting it, and as per usual, the bulk of it was bills, with just a sprinkling of cheques.
I should be grateful for the paper trail being that my pre-mummy career was in the printing industry, but when you're on the receiving end of the paper, it is not so welcome. As if I don't have an overflowing recycling bin as it is (adjusts halo), now I have a whole pile of envelopes which I'm going to have to either squeeze down one side of the bin, or leave on the bench with the couple of bottles that just didn't make the cut this week due to lack of space, and the fact that it's persisting down sways me towards the latter.
I'm thinking paper making might be a nice mid-winter inside activity, something new and exciting, something other than hut making, playdough creating or cake baking to keep us occupied (and me sane).
So maybe I'll save those envelopes after all and give them a second life at our house, motley flaky paper has got to be more fun than gleaming cutty paper, and if recycled paper is good enough for loo rolls, it's good enough for the crayolas.
I went and cleared the PO box yesterday, and granted it had been a few days since I last emptied it, can you believe, I spent the best part of an hour last night opening and sorting it, and as per usual, the bulk of it was bills, with just a sprinkling of cheques.
I should be grateful for the paper trail being that my pre-mummy career was in the printing industry, but when you're on the receiving end of the paper, it is not so welcome. As if I don't have an overflowing recycling bin as it is (adjusts halo), now I have a whole pile of envelopes which I'm going to have to either squeeze down one side of the bin, or leave on the bench with the couple of bottles that just didn't make the cut this week due to lack of space, and the fact that it's persisting down sways me towards the latter.
I'm thinking paper making might be a nice mid-winter inside activity, something new and exciting, something other than hut making, playdough creating or cake baking to keep us occupied (and me sane).
So maybe I'll save those envelopes after all and give them a second life at our house, motley flaky paper has got to be more fun than gleaming cutty paper, and if recycled paper is good enough for loo rolls, it's good enough for the crayolas.
Kachow!
Lightning McQueen. Not since Herbie has a race car been so popular with kids, and this morning Lightning is the order of the day. Mr 3 was given 'Mac' the truck for Christmas, and has acquired various other characters from the movie in the four months since then.
It appears to be reenactment day at our house today. It's raining again, so outside activities are on standby, and Mr 3 is busy lying on the lounge room floor (one of his favourite spots) reenacting a scene from the Cars movie. It's the part where McQueen falls out the back of the truck. He's got it down pat, he has a mega memory, my son, and could very well make a good actor himself one day as studying scripts won't be a problem if his short term memory stays as fantastic as it is at age three.
I have often wondered (as I'm sure most parents do) when I see him playing, what he will become as a man. Will he follow in his fathers footsteps and be mechanically minded? Will he be artistic or musical like me? Will he make a career of some job that hasn't even been invented yet? I guess only time will tell, at present, he's going to drive a really really really big truck, a Mac, with 3 steps, to his work, and park it up, and fix cars.
Ah the world in the eyes of a three year old...
Kachow!
It appears to be reenactment day at our house today. It's raining again, so outside activities are on standby, and Mr 3 is busy lying on the lounge room floor (one of his favourite spots) reenacting a scene from the Cars movie. It's the part where McQueen falls out the back of the truck. He's got it down pat, he has a mega memory, my son, and could very well make a good actor himself one day as studying scripts won't be a problem if his short term memory stays as fantastic as it is at age three.
I have often wondered (as I'm sure most parents do) when I see him playing, what he will become as a man. Will he follow in his fathers footsteps and be mechanically minded? Will he be artistic or musical like me? Will he make a career of some job that hasn't even been invented yet? I guess only time will tell, at present, he's going to drive a really really really big truck, a Mac, with 3 steps, to his work, and park it up, and fix cars.
Ah the world in the eyes of a three year old...
Kachow!
Monday, April 14, 2008
The glass is always cleaner...
I often wonder what the ritual is at other peoples houses in the hour or so leading up to visitors arriving. Is it a mad dash tidy around like I do, or are other people just that little bit more organised, or here's another idea, perhaps they don't mind if their house is in a state of disarray when others come to visit?
I've been meaning to clean the ranchsilder for weeks now, the glass is about as far away from clean as you could get - I'm talking little hand prints and food smears on the inside, and splattered bugs and dust on the outside.
I have this disorder - well, that's what I'll call it, particularly when it comes to cleaning windows and ovens. I just can't seem to motivate myself to do it. In my list of top 10 worst house keeping jobs, oven is at #1 and windows comes a close second. There are a zillion excuses as to why not to clean them, trust me I know, I've used them all. I've even lured myself into a false sense of security telling myself 'I'll do it tomorrow' - and as James Bond well knows, tomorrow never comes.
So there's some food for thought - Is the glass always cleaner on the other side of the ranchslider? In my case, no.
I've been meaning to clean the ranchsilder for weeks now, the glass is about as far away from clean as you could get - I'm talking little hand prints and food smears on the inside, and splattered bugs and dust on the outside.
I have this disorder - well, that's what I'll call it, particularly when it comes to cleaning windows and ovens. I just can't seem to motivate myself to do it. In my list of top 10 worst house keeping jobs, oven is at #1 and windows comes a close second. There are a zillion excuses as to why not to clean them, trust me I know, I've used them all. I've even lured myself into a false sense of security telling myself 'I'll do it tomorrow' - and as James Bond well knows, tomorrow never comes.
So there's some food for thought - Is the glass always cleaner on the other side of the ranchslider? In my case, no.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Lego Lego everywhere...
So the weekend has arrived and the heavens have opened up. As if the house wasn't a mess enough as it was, now we will have two whole days of insideness and the inevitable mess that comes with that.
Lego is all the rage at our house at the moment, and it was every three year old boys dream come true earlier in the week to receive a late birthday present of his very own box of the world famous blocks to add to his fathers collection saved up from years gone by.
It's amazing what you can make out of Lego, well, perhaps not so amazing when I make it, but when the man and the boy get together, it's cool what they come up with. The lounge floor is covered in trucks, a crocodile, a penguin, a dog, a house and that's just to name a few. Little hands and big hands working together on mini projects, the world is their Lego oyster.
Only down side to Lego of course is the pain it can cause to the old feet in the middle of the night, that lone naughty piece that even with the best pick up efforts managed to escape the bucket. And then there's the lovely truck mummy broke yesterday when she backed over it with the office chair. And as history would have it, mummy isn't the worlds best Lego put-back- togetherer.
On that note, I'm off to hang some washing up in the garage, I'll try my best not to trip on Lego, a three year old, and a 30 (something) year old scattered about on my lounge room floor.
Lego is all the rage at our house at the moment, and it was every three year old boys dream come true earlier in the week to receive a late birthday present of his very own box of the world famous blocks to add to his fathers collection saved up from years gone by.
It's amazing what you can make out of Lego, well, perhaps not so amazing when I make it, but when the man and the boy get together, it's cool what they come up with. The lounge floor is covered in trucks, a crocodile, a penguin, a dog, a house and that's just to name a few. Little hands and big hands working together on mini projects, the world is their Lego oyster.
Only down side to Lego of course is the pain it can cause to the old feet in the middle of the night, that lone naughty piece that even with the best pick up efforts managed to escape the bucket. And then there's the lovely truck mummy broke yesterday when she backed over it with the office chair. And as history would have it, mummy isn't the worlds best Lego put-back- togetherer.
On that note, I'm off to hang some washing up in the garage, I'll try my best not to trip on Lego, a three year old, and a 30 (something) year old scattered about on my lounge room floor.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Life is too short
I don't like to dwell on things sad and negative, but a tv current affairs show I watched last night
moved me so much that is my blog inspiration for the day. It was a story of a mother who knew she was dying, she had stomach cancer, the same illness that had taken her sister, mother and grandmother before her, all in their 30's. She was a fighter, shaking a stick at the universe several times because she wasn't quite ready to go yet. She had made a video diary for her children, telling them how much she loves them, and even seeing the humorous side of things advising them to 'not be too mean to the lady' should their dad get a new girlfriend one day.
I was in tears by the end of it, not something one wishes to think about really - leaving the kids behind - not yet anyway, not 'til you're old and grumpy, and in your sleep, that's how it's supposed to happen. And of course it made me think how precious every day is and how lucky I am to have such a beautiful family, amazing friends, and fantastic belongings.
So as I look out the window on this beautiful crisp autumn morning, I'm thinking "stuff it, the housework can wait, we're going to the park". Life really is too short.
moved me so much that is my blog inspiration for the day. It was a story of a mother who knew she was dying, she had stomach cancer, the same illness that had taken her sister, mother and grandmother before her, all in their 30's. She was a fighter, shaking a stick at the universe several times because she wasn't quite ready to go yet. She had made a video diary for her children, telling them how much she loves them, and even seeing the humorous side of things advising them to 'not be too mean to the lady' should their dad get a new girlfriend one day.
I was in tears by the end of it, not something one wishes to think about really - leaving the kids behind - not yet anyway, not 'til you're old and grumpy, and in your sleep, that's how it's supposed to happen. And of course it made me think how precious every day is and how lucky I am to have such a beautiful family, amazing friends, and fantastic belongings.
So as I look out the window on this beautiful crisp autumn morning, I'm thinking "stuff it, the housework can wait, we're going to the park". Life really is too short.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Pepper and Salt
So, this is it, my new ritual, am I hooked - perhaps, how will I know for sure - only time will tell.
Dunno when the best time will be to write things down, but here I sit with "Go Show" in one ear and baby music in the monitor in the other ear, enjoying my cup of tea while everything is quiet on the home front, well, about as quiet as it gets around here.
It's starting to feel a bit nippy around the edges in the mornings now. I think back to my pre-kid days when I had the luxury of staying in under the covers for 'just a few minutes more', but of course back in those days, I didn't have the luxury of morning family cuddles in bed. There's something quite special about all squishing in together and the laughter as little iceberg feet go up the back of your jammies. (Note to self: see if they make mummy sized all in one stretch n grows.)
I had a phone call early this morning, from a freight company, we've treated ourselves to a new dining suite. Exciting stuff, our old one is on it's last legs (excuse the pun). Oddly enough, it appears our chairs will be arriving separately from the table, and here was me thinking they would come as a set. But what would I know. Anyhow, that got me thinking about what other things couldn't function quite so well without the other. Like pepper and salt; knives and forks; left shoe and right shoe; clothes line and pegs; car and petrol; armpits and deodorant; bbqs and tongs; bikes and seats; stubbies and the 80's; air planes and sky; fish and chips; wine and cheese; tv's and remotes; parents and kids ... .
Ok, I've reached the bottom of my cup, so I guess that means times up. Time to go and rip into the day ahead.
Dunno when the best time will be to write things down, but here I sit with "Go Show" in one ear and baby music in the monitor in the other ear, enjoying my cup of tea while everything is quiet on the home front, well, about as quiet as it gets around here.
It's starting to feel a bit nippy around the edges in the mornings now. I think back to my pre-kid days when I had the luxury of staying in under the covers for 'just a few minutes more', but of course back in those days, I didn't have the luxury of morning family cuddles in bed. There's something quite special about all squishing in together and the laughter as little iceberg feet go up the back of your jammies. (Note to self: see if they make mummy sized all in one stretch n grows.)
I had a phone call early this morning, from a freight company, we've treated ourselves to a new dining suite. Exciting stuff, our old one is on it's last legs (excuse the pun). Oddly enough, it appears our chairs will be arriving separately from the table, and here was me thinking they would come as a set. But what would I know. Anyhow, that got me thinking about what other things couldn't function quite so well without the other. Like pepper and salt; knives and forks; left shoe and right shoe; clothes line and pegs; car and petrol; armpits and deodorant; bbqs and tongs; bikes and seats; stubbies and the 80's; air planes and sky; fish and chips; wine and cheese; tv's and remotes; parents and kids ... .
Ok, I've reached the bottom of my cup, so I guess that means times up. Time to go and rip into the day ahead.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Here we go...
I'd heard about blogging before, you know, with all the internet talk these days, of course I had, blog this, u-tube that, trade me something else, but I hadn't really read much into it - or actually read one to be completely honest, until a friend of mine text me this avo with her blog address.
Well G is a great writer (and not just because I felt humbled to be mentioned), but she is one of those captivating writers who uses big words, but not too big though and not too many - unlike me, with my mummy brain I have trouble writing the grocery shopping list at the best of times, however, I've been thinking since I read her one - 'hey, there's no reason I couldn't do that'. So surely once a day (or so) I could sit here in cyber space and do a bit of typing, there won't be much 'text talk' cause I'm a bit old for all that abreviated business!
So, what have I got to say that's worth writing down - I do always have a lot to say, hell, I've got two kids (three if you count the hubby) to gas bag about. A lot gets said in any one day in this house. Probably the most of it by Mr 3.
I'm burning the candle at both ends - up early with kids, although the man's pretty good at taking charge of Mr 3 first thing so I can feed Lil' Miss. My days are taken up by all that mummy come housewife stuff, some fun, some not so, then at night I morf into 'office lady' and try to make head or tail of our business accounts, and being that it's not my forte, it is quite the challenge.
So, like I said, here we go, I'll give it a try and see how I get on. Watch this space, who knows, I may even come up with the odd big word or two - but don't expect me to spell them right, I lost my spelling brain function during child birth.
Well G is a great writer (and not just because I felt humbled to be mentioned), but she is one of those captivating writers who uses big words, but not too big though and not too many - unlike me, with my mummy brain I have trouble writing the grocery shopping list at the best of times, however, I've been thinking since I read her one - 'hey, there's no reason I couldn't do that'. So surely once a day (or so) I could sit here in cyber space and do a bit of typing, there won't be much 'text talk' cause I'm a bit old for all that abreviated business!
So, what have I got to say that's worth writing down - I do always have a lot to say, hell, I've got two kids (three if you count the hubby) to gas bag about. A lot gets said in any one day in this house. Probably the most of it by Mr 3.
I'm burning the candle at both ends - up early with kids, although the man's pretty good at taking charge of Mr 3 first thing so I can feed Lil' Miss. My days are taken up by all that mummy come housewife stuff, some fun, some not so, then at night I morf into 'office lady' and try to make head or tail of our business accounts, and being that it's not my forte, it is quite the challenge.
So, like I said, here we go, I'll give it a try and see how I get on. Watch this space, who knows, I may even come up with the odd big word or two - but don't expect me to spell them right, I lost my spelling brain function during child birth.
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