Wedding Anniversary #4

Today is our fourth wedding anniversary. It also happens to be New Years Eve. Some people have asked us if we have anything special planned. The answer is "kind of". What to do to celebrate a wedding anniversary and New Years Eve with a small kid? Anything involving too much alcohol is out so that leaves not much. Everyone knows you can't have any fun without drinking! We have a nice bottle of champagne that we plan on drinking together after Henry has gone to bed. We also plan on cooking ourselves a nice dinner, hopefully involving prawns or some other kind of delicious seafood. We had a few dozen oysters just yesterday after I discovered them on sale at the supermarket for $2 a dozen. I bought six dozen, gave two away and was disappointed that we were only left with four dozen to share between us.

My mother who is 65 is having a shindig of a party with her church group to celebrate New Years Eve and she's 65. She has more of a time of it than we do and we're just over half her age. She'll be up past midnight ringing in the New Year. We can't stay awake that long. She'll probably sleep in past midday. We'll be up at 4.30am. I don't know how she does it. She's a party animal. I'm beginning to wonder if she's turning into one of those women I saw yesterday on Dr Phil. One of those women who refuse to act their age, who go out drinking and partying with young hooligans refusing to accept that they have responsibilities like children and a husband. I guess she doesn't take her clothes off in public nor drink so much that she is even slightly drunk but still. Aren't 65 year olds supposed to go to bed early and get up early because they can't sleep? Aren't they supposed to have dinner at 5pm, watch the news at 6 and then knit for a bit before retiring for the night?

I guess she and her friends will be crowded around the piano singing Auld Lang Syne at midnight while Ben and I are sleeping soundly preparing ourselves for the onslaught of Henry at 4.30am. Waiting to hear those first words he speaks every morning....."Oh big twuck". Those words will herald in the new year. They'll be the first words we hear in 2006, the first words we'll hear as we start our fifth year of marriage.

I couldn't really imagine anything else I'd rather hear first thing on New Years Day 2006. It will mean that all is well with the world.

Happy New Year! May 2006 bring peace, happiness, good health and good fortune.

This is all we can think to do to stay cool. Other than the air conditioned shopping centres.

I don't want to go on and on about it but the heat is oppressive. It's impossible to feel cool anywhere but in air conditioning.

We took Maya to the airport yesterday morning at around 5.30am to meet her flight to Tasmania. She's gone to spend some time with her Dad. It was hot at 5.30am. Sticky, humid, unbearable. Henry has been a little unwell with conjuctivitis and a fever. Coming home to a hot and sweltering house meant cranky people all around. Despite the air conditioning in the bedroom he didn't want to sleep or rest. He's been grumpy and a little out of sorts.

We bought a new phone just the other day but had some problems with it so we thought a trip to the air conditioned shopping centre in the air conditioned car to change the problem phone may provide relief for a short time. We changed the phone but didn't want to be assaulted by the heat from outside so wandered around there for a bit to soak up as much cool air as we could.

None of us, including Henry, like shopping centres. It wasn't long before we could no longer stand the throngs of people, the overstimulation of the music and lights and sights. The heat seemed much more attractive after spending an hour or so with the bargain hunters at the post christmas sales.

Christmas Day

Trying to keep cool in the laundry tub.

Time to get under the sprinkler and cool off.

Under the trees in the shade was the coolest place to be.

Aside from the heat we had a wonderful day. Angie and Brett did a fantastic job. We had more turkey, ham, delicious salads and a pudding made by my mother. Yum!
Henry learned very quickly that underneath all the wrapping paper may be one big surprise for him and wanted to unwrap everyone's gifts.

Cricket was played. Bloody Marys and Champagne flowed freely. The kids played with all their new toys and had the odd argument. A late afternoon thunderstorm did little to cool things down but was still a welcome respite for a short period because the clouds blocked the sun.

We came home around 5pm. Maya retired to her room to watch a movie on her new DVD player, I went straight to the airconditioning to lie down with Henry who was so overtired he refused to go to sleep. Ben was still hungry and ate. Mad!

All in all a wonderful Christmas day.

Presents from abroad

Dear Grandma Mary

The gifts you sent are absolutely delightful. The T-shirts a perfect fit and very groovy. Maya is in love with the sequinned cardigan. Once again you managed to excel in the gift department. Henry will enjoy wearing his new outfit to luch today. He gave the dog a very big hug and said "awwww".

We love you
The Australians.

Merry Christmas to all our friends and family around the world wherever you may be

It's 7.45 am. Hot, sticky and positively uncomfortable weather wise but a beautiful, peaceful and happy Christmas morning in all other regards.

We all slept in until 6am. I guess the big Christmas feast at my mothers house left us with a tummy full of food that could only be digested while sleeping. Our Christmas Tree is outside to keep busy little fingers off it so we got them all from under the tree and came inside and opened them. Henry was delighted by his firetrucks and let out some appropriate "wows". Amazing that a child of only 16 months can have such an obsession with trucks and all things with "weewaw"s (wheels).

We will be having lunch with my brother (Brett), his fiance (Angela) and their family. More turkey, hams and salads. Lord knows why we insist on having baked and roasted food in this weather. We still haven't made the switch to prawns and other cold dishes. My brother is highly allergic to seafood so this may be why. If he even so much as touches a prawn it could have serious consequences. Next time he's not around for Christmas I will insist on seafood only!

Until later.

Merry Christmas eve to those in the Northern Hemisphere. We wish we could be with you and enjoy the cold. It would be most welcome here right now.

Plus BBQ equals 50 degrees C

It's 3.30pm and hot as hell. It's about 37 degrees C in the house right now and the humidity is high. We got a plea call from my mother asking if I could cook the ham. I agreed. It can't be that hard. It looks and smells delicious but it wasn't all that easy. First I had to peel off the rind and then mix up the glaze and then coat the ham with the glaze, cook it for an hour, glaze again, cook for another hour and a half. The heat from the oven has turned the house into a sauna.



Ben grilled up some vegetables for me for my contribution of grilled vegetable salad for Christmas Day lunch tomorrow. Of course he had to have beer while doing that and I had to join him. It was HOT! The above pics are of just that. The capsicum is perfectly grilled and now marinating with the zucchini, eggplant and mushrooms.


Maya made chistmas themed chocolates for everyone before being whisked off to Nanna's to help with the planning of the Christmas feast over there.

I hope it cools down tonight because I want to eat like I've never eaten before. Christmas dinner with my mother is a treat not to be missed!

Conversations With Children

Sam: Mum, which car are we taking to Leyburn tomorrow?

Sam's Mum: Why Sam?

Sam: Because I want to make sure we can fit my bike in that Santa is brining me?

The Stockings Were Hung By The Fan With Care

Daddy and Henry peruse the recipe books in search of a delicious dessert for Christmas Day

It's 11am Christmas Eve and Henry has only just gone to bed two hours later than normal. He must be aware that Christmas is in the air. Maya was up earlier than normal and has cleaned her room, placed the wrapped gifts beneath the tree and is now making chocolates. Ben has tried to call his mum three times but she remains elusive. She must have a life because she is never home these days when we try to call.

My sister and her children have just called in to say goodbye as they head back home to Toowoomba to celebrate Christmas with Jack's (her husband) family. Sam and Madison are both eagerly awaiting Santa's visit tonight and will leave a carrot for the reindeer and a beer for Santa. My sister Susan and her brood will arrive late this afternoon in time for the massive feast my mother has planned.

Ben is preparing to make a pumpkin pie for dessert tomorrow and has made his shopping list. He and Henry lovingly browsed the recipe books this morning. Henry marked his approval with a "yummy" each time he saw something that took his fancy.

If only it were cooler. Maybe by ten degrees.

Exploding Ginger Beer

My mother has made ginger beer for Christmas. I love this stuff. She and Dad used to make it when we were kids and I can always remember it stacked up in the laundry. We were instructed not to touch it. Every now and then a small explosion could be heard as one of the bottles lost its top. Mum would grow her own "bug" and brew the stuff and then give it all away to anyone who came to visit and there'd be hardly any left for us.

I got to taste test this latest batch last night and I've got to say it's every bit as good as it was when we were kids. My mother never thinks anything she does is her best effort and before I drank any she warned me of all the things that could be wrong with it. Home Made Ginger Beer. What could be wrong??? It did a fantastic job of cooling the fire in my mouth caused by the chilli chutney personally made by my mother's neighbour who is Sri Lankan.

The ginger beer means Christmas is here!

Maya is excited because today is Christmas Eve and she can finally put the presents under the tree. We've waited until today because Henry would just destroy them. He's not been as interested in the Christmas tree as we might have thought. Aside from grabbing the occasional bauble and hurling it across the ground he really hasn't paid it much attention. My mother was worried he may totally destroy her tree. Hers is full of expensive and beautiful glass baubles. He hasn't touched it.

Maya has plans to tidy her room and the whole house and put out her santa sack and Henry's. This is the only time of year I can get her to do anything voluntarily. Without asking for money in return. I love Christmas!

Tonight we are having dinner with my mother. I have no idea how she does it but she has a three course feast planned, complete with stuffed turkey, home made cranberry sauce and pudding with sixpences hidden in it. Every night for the last two weeks she has entertained. Her feet are swollen and her back is about to break but she won't stop. She keeps saying "I love it". I personally think she's a glutton for punishment but I do think she loves every minute of christmas, having her family and loved ones close by and being able to delight them with her culinary skills.

The only wish I have is that those far away could be with us this christmas. Or that we could be with them as it's cold there and set to be 38 degrees here on Christmas day meaning we may not make it through the day. We may have melted by noon.

For those far away we wish you a Merry Christmas! We will be thinking of you all as you celebrate with family and friends and will dream of the time we can all be together.

Spaghetti Diaries entry #3

Help! I am becoming my mother. Tonight while searching the pantry for some pasta to cook for dinner I came across three opened packets of spaghetti and four unopened packets,three opened packets of now stale biscuits and some weevil infested rice.

My mother does this. Not me. She keeps everything. Not because she wants to but because she doesn't know she owns it. She hates grocery shopping so she just buys a carload full of stuff that she doesn't need in the hopes she won't have to go again for some time. She never checks the cupboard before leaving to see what she already has but just buys it all again then she loads all the new purchases on top of the existing things. I cleaned out her pantry in 1999 and found several jars of dried herbs with a useby date sometime in 1978. She had moved five times between 1978 and 1999. I was about to throw them out when she dived at me from across the room and yelled "Nooooo, they're still good". This is how much she hated the thought of having to shop to replace it. I often clean out her refrigerator because she seems incapable of ever throwing anything away and when I go over there to help myself to chocolate and open that fridge and am hit with an overpowering scent I just have to determine the source and dispose of it. She still stands over me to check what I might be throwing away. If it's not growing mould or is still recognisable she thinks it's fine. She once bought an enormous box of celery because it was only 10c a bunch. I asked her what she was intening on doing with so much celery and she said "who cares, I won' t have to buy it for a while and it was such a bargain". Never mind that the whole lot went rotten before it was eaten. Even the rotten food is reused. She blends it up and feeds it to the garden. She says it's great fertiliser and the worms love it. It looks and smells like some ancient herbal remedy used to bring the dead back to life.

I do love her resourcefulness but we no longer live in a depression. She doesn't have to keep everything and she would save herself a whole pile of money if she just shopped for smaller amounts more often. She won't hear of it though. If I suggest this she just rambles on for hours about how much she hates grocery shopping. I remember when I was a kid shopping with her and she would grumble the whole time. It never seemed such a drama to me. We had fruit and vege delivered by the mobile greengrocer, the milkman delivered the 12 bottles of milk we drank a day and the baker came by daily also. All she really had to do was go into the store occasionally and stock up things would be good. My father used to do it when he was home from his business trips. I gather he sensed her intense dislike of the supermarket also.

I remember her yelling one day about how much milk we drank and she said she was going to stop buying it because we just drank it. We all thought that's what we were supposed to do with it but maybe we were just meant to watch it go off in the fridge.

If ever I have green monsters growing on my food I will immediately seek psychiatric help.

Things I would tell my father this Christmas if he were here

That your grandson Sam is wearing my knee high leather boots.

Henry doesn't stop eating

Maya still has to control ALL the games

It's so hot right now and watermelon just isn't cutting it

I still hate washing dishes

Sharyn is still single

I still can't make salad dressing like you did. Or that special sauce you used to make to dip prawns into

That locking kids in a room to let them "fight it out" still doesn't work

Angie stupidly said yes to Brett

Patrick belted a goanna out of the tree with a golf stick because it was eating an oversized frog.

The mean mother still doesn't work

Alf is still in Summer Bay

We all still make too much noise when we're together. I don't think it's ever going to stop. No one has yet bought a drum to make more noise because we knew you were only joking.

A Little Trip Away

Maya and Riley. Hervey Bay.

Sand balls made by crabs.

This weekend just gone I took Henry and Maya for a visit to my sister and her husband and three children in Maryborough. I always love going there. They have three beautiful acres, a huge ranch style home, chooks, geese, dogs and a cow called Posie. Life there is so much different to life in the city and I am always reminded of my childhood when there. I was born there and grew up there. Some things have changed but the quietness and friendliness of the small town people has not. Things are so easy there compared to the city. There is never a problem finding a park although I must admit I'm not sure that the townspeople understand parking etiquette. I think most people just follow their own road rules. My sister never locks her house, in fact they rarely close the doors at all except at night time to keep out the bugs and other crawly creatures like snakes and goannas.

Henry enjoyed himself immensely. The room to run was overwhelming for him. He was not interested in being inside at all. Not interested in climbing on the furniture as he does here which is obviously a sign of boredom. I had to keep him lathered in sunscreen lotion and insect repellent and keep his hat and shoes on at all times but that was a simple task. He played with the dogs and threw the ball and ran around and around the patio. The only thing he didn't like was the wet, freshly mowed grass sticking to his feet in the morning. He would screw up his face and dance a little dance in the hope that he could shake it off. When that didn't work he tried to brush it away with his hands. This proved fruitless though as wet grass sticks and sticks hard. We had to hose it off and he wasn't happy until it was all gone. We don't have any grass to play on here. We used to but our landlord who lives behind us took our grassed area to add to his own garden so his five children would have more room to play. Now all we have is a paved area which is small and hot because the pavers retain the heat and reflect the sun making it impossible to spend any time outdoors in the middle of the day in summer.

I yearn for a simpler life. Some place to grow vegetables and for the kids to run and play. My sister's three children are never bored. They have animals to be responsible for, they build Bin Laden Bunkers (a huge mound of dirt with a tunnel through it), they build tree houses, they kill cane toads with golf sticks and cricket bats, they take the cow across the road to the paddock full of bulls in the hopes of getting her pregnant with a calf they can sell at the markets to add to their spending money. When they get tired they take time out to read a book. They occasionally play computer games but this is something that takes a back seat to everything else. They are not interested in owning the latest ipod or Sony playstation nor do they care about which fashion stores stock the most sought after clothing items.

I regret making the decision to move to Brisbane all those years ago. I did it for several reasons, all too long to go into here but I would rather be back there even though I hated it as a teenager and couldn't wait to get out.

We took a trip to the Hervey Bay to go to the beach while there. Late afternoon, the tide was out and the sun was low in the sky. What a beautiful afternoon. Henry swam and splashed and tried to eat some sand. We ate fish and chips by the water and had an ice cream before coming home. So relaxing! We used to go here almost every weekend as kids and Dad would build enormous sandcastles. We'd have ice cream at the Nicker Bocker Glory Ice Creamery. Buy some fresh sandcrabs to have on sandwiches when we got home. My father believed the sea would cure any ailment and I think he was right.

Back then Hervey Bay was just a small fishing village, now it's a town thriving and spreading. There is no land for sale and when it does come up it's snatched up in an instant. There are five star resorts and whale watching tours and restaurants and upmarket hotels. Who would have thought.

Truck Book

I really hope Grandma has included some new truck books in her Christmas package this year because I can't read the two we have one more time without wanting to tear my hair out!

Playing "Where's Henry"

Barney the Driving Dinosaur

Yesterday Maya had to have some kind of incredibly expensive xrays on her teeth as a lead up to the surgery she must have to try to remove some teeth which are growing in the wrong direction inside her gums. This was a relatively stress free outing as far as outings go. (I always psyche myself up for the possibility that any outing may be the outing from hell). After that, Maya, who had only days before placed a dress on hold at Indooroopilly shopping centre, wanted to go pick it up and pay for it with the money she got for her birthday and which was burning a hole in her pocket (the "dress on hold" story is another story in itself and that will come at a later date). Me who hates shopping centres more than I hate almost anything else in the world did not object to this because I knew they had air conditioning as did the car. I could pretend all the people and overstimulating music and lights and sounds didn't exist just to experience the marvel that is air conditioning. We arrived, ate lunch at a leisurely pace and headed for the dress shop. While we waited for Maya to pay for her dress Henry had a ride on Barney the $2 for 30 seconds thrill ride for wee ones. Barney, along with some unidentifiable friends, sat beside the driver (Henry) and spoke some indecipherable language as only Barney could. There is a little steering wheel for the driver which completes this up and down dinosaur driving experience. Henry was so absolutely in love with it that I wondered if he would ever allow us to remove him once the ride stopped. He beeped the horn and said "wow, wow, wow" over and over just like I would if someone handed over a million dollars in cash. Suddenly Barney stopped moving and talking and all was still. Henry stared for several seconds before he realised it wasn't going anywhere anymore. Maya, who had handed over ALL of her cash on one little dress, removed him from the seat and he cried and cried and cried like his heart had been broken in the most awful of ways. I wanted to cry too. How could Barney be so cruel as to only last a few precious moments? Couldn't he see that my child was not going to ever breathe again if Barney didn't just start up and keep going all day and night? I decided then and there that if Barney ever shows his face on our TV again he will be switched off immediately lest my child have nightmares about the day Barney stopped driving.

Que Saco Fazer um Blog

Apparently this means" What a pain in the ass making a blog is" in Portugese.

Our friend Rob is currently in Brazil. For this reason alone I no longer like him. He's a great guy and very smart but HE GETS TO GO TO BRAZIL. What's worse is he's decided to write about it in his own blog which you can read here .

He has been diving. Off a boat. Into beautiful waters. Attempting to pick up beautiful Brazilian women. Walking the streets of some place with an amazing history.

I have to learn to forgive him though as he promised to bring home some Brazilian coffee, Haviana rubber thongs for Maya (special currency) and a Brazilian soccer Jersey for Henry. We'll be in heaven.

My First Sleepover...

Dear Grandma
The other night I went for my first sleepover to my other grandma's house. Mum and Dad and Maya went out for dinner. I dont' know why they wouldn't take me. I like restaurants that have tables loaded with breakable glasses and stuff. I like to go and climb on other people's chairs at their tables too. I didn't really mind that much though because Nanna and Richie always spoil me. I went to bed like a really good boy and the next day Nanna and Richie took me with them to Maroochydore for a drive. They had to do some work. Mum told them they might regret it but I was alright. At least that's what Nanna said. I don't think she wanted to upset Mum though because maybe mum wouldn't let me stay with her again if she told her I was naughty. Nanna let me out of the pram for a little bit and I found a really cute little girl to hug. Her mum wanted my phone number so I can take her daughter on a date when I'm older. She thought I was pretty cute. Richie took me to a pet shop to show me the puppies. I really wanted one but they said no. I didn't sleep much that day though and so by the time mum picked me up after work I was really cranky. Nanna was pleased I was going home even though she didn't say that. She told mum to bring me back anytime for a sleepover. Maybe she really liked having me there. I know she liked it when I got in bed with her and Richie in the morning even though it was 4am!

I love you Grandma
Henry
xoxoxoxo

The Dish Difference and The Heat

"Leave the dishes. I'll do them in the morning. It's too hot right now"

"What, you think it's going to be cooler in the morning? After the sun comes up? It's only 480 degrees right now and 100% humidity. You should do them now".

School's Out for Summer and I don't have any Valium

I think Maya and I will want to go our separate ways by the end of the six weeks. I'll still love her but I'm sure I'll want to lock her in her room so she can NEVER ANSWER ME BACK AGAIN. Maybe she'll just ignore me like she usually does and that would be ok too.

Marketing Magic

I don't know if it's just me getting old or if the world is really going to the pack. As I write this the European music awards are on the television. There are no European performers. They are all American. Fair enough. What I can't believe is that these top selling artists have no talent when performing live. They can't sing! They sound like crap! They sound like me when I sing in the shower. It's the power of marketing, a great recording studio and clothing that only has enough fabric to cover their most intimate body parts. Take Madonna for instance. She was raunchy and sexy way before raunchy and sexy became the norm. She was outrageous in her raunchiness and sexiness. Now she just looks plain sad. Sad because she feels she has to dress in a minuscule amount of clothing and gyrate the parts of her body normally reserved for bearing children in front of a camera in order to compete with the talentless, just out of diapers, female performers of today's generation. She is over 40! She just looks desperate. She looks like mutton dressed as lamb! She sang live and for that I applaud her but she sounded as though she just thought it might be fun to annoy an audience of thousands (millions if we include TV) by deliberately not staying in tune. Not quite as bad Avril Lavigne live but only marginally. Now I realise that some people believe that age should be no barrier to sexiness but this is not sexy. It's downright horrifying. Sure she looks fantastic and I would kill for a body like hers at any age, especially after 40 but come on. She had a demure period a few years back and she should have kept it. It seems its no longer about art and talent, it's about marketing and anyone can be marketed. It just takes money and desperation to get and keep your face on TV.

Waiting for the Garbage Truck

This is not my favourite past time but it is Henry's. He is obsessed with trucks and anything that has "weewaws" (wheels) and makes big loud noises. Every Tuesday the Garbage truck comes to collect our weekly trash. Henry can hear it streets away and starts to tell us that the "big twuck" is on its way. He runs to the window and waits for us to come pick him up for a better view. He starts saying "ooohh wow" when it's still miles from our house. This Tuesday he was in for a treat but it was a frightening treat. He and I went out to the driveway to wait for the truck so we could get a closeup view of it. We waited and waited and finally it made its way to our bins which were loyally waiting to be emptied of the putrid smelling, rotting rubbish. When it got to our house it emptied first the recycling bin which was full of glass bottles and jars. Henry watched intently as the arm lifted the bin. He wasn't prepared however for the explosive sound those bottles made as they crashed into the other bottles already laying low waiting to be turned into other glass bottles and jars. He clung tight to me and started to cry. I think he thought the truck might come collect him out of my arms and throw him in there too. Some of the papers fell on the ground and the truck had to stop right there in front of us and the driver had to get out and pick some of these things up. Henry calmed down for a bit and actually pointed and said "wow". As the truck drove off he waved and said "bye" ferociously as though he was telling it not to bother coming back this way. The thing he thought the most exciting thing in the world turned out to be a big, loud, scary monster.

In the Heat of the Moment

It's just so hot! So so hot! I used to love summer when I was a kid. That was before I had any responsibilities and didn't have to worry about keeping anyone else cool or out of the sun. When I was slim and attractive enough to walk around in a bikini all day. When I could go hang out at the beach because I didn't have to be home doing housework or waiting on kids and husbands, or going to work to earn a living. Now I just plain hate it. The sun is relentless. It burns at 5.30am and doesn't stop until the sun has completely disappeared. The humidity remains even after that and everyone tosses and turns all night trying to keep their arms from sticking to their stomachs and the mosquitoes from buzzing around their heads. There's just no relief, no let up. It burns and it's sticky.

Going to the beach or the pool to cool off is fraught with danger because the sun is too hot to even swim under. By the time you get out of the water and get back in the hot car to go home everyone's wishing they hadn't bothered because they're hotter than when they arrived.

Everyone's tempers are frayed because the heat just saps energy. Tropical fever starts to set in. Everyone develops a personality disorder. No one speaks to each other unless they have to because this uses up precious resources. The air conditioning in the car becomes useless unless you plan to be in it for over an hour because this is how long it takes to combat the heat after the car has sat in the sun for more than 30 seconds.

I try hard to think of the advantages. I can think of at least one. The washing dries in less than a minute.

"The Best Birthday I've Ever Had"

Back of Beyond With No Signage Chermside Waterpark where teenage boys and teenage girls spend the day eyeing each other off.

Teenage girls spending the day at Back of Beyond With No Signage Chermside Water park.

Maya says her 13th birthday was the best one she ever had. It should have been. She got some Way Cool presents and a day at the waterpark and 3 friends for a sleep over and a BBQ dinner last night.

We went off to the Back of Beyond With No Signage Chermside Waterpark. The girls are lucky I didn't turn around and go right back home after taking three wrong turns to get there because this town has something against directional street signage. It was hot and I was trying to concentrate with three teenage girls in the car giggling and showing off their mobile phone ring tones and the radio blaring. I was almost ready to grab one of those phones and call the Brisbane City Council and demand they bring the waterpark to me if they can't put up some decent signage.


We parked, we walked....a long way....with a heavy esky and a load full of teenage girl stuff and we plonked ourselves down at a spare table and the girls disappeared for three hours while I sat and read some trash magazines. A perfect opportunity to brush up on my celebrity trivia. I had no idea so many celebrities battled eating disorders and broken marriages.

I overheard this conversation between the girls at around midnight. I don't know who said what but it went something like this.

TG (Teenage Girl) 1: You're so pretty.
TG2: No I'm not. You are.
TG3: Yes you are. You should be a model. Those boys were so looking at you.
TG4: Yeah, they were.
TG1: Don't ever say I'm pretty. (It was at this point that I yelled out that they could say I was pretty and the response was the most I'd got out of them all day. They all replied in unison. "Yes you are Michelle. You are really beautiful" - if only they meant it.)

Maya says thank you to Grandma Mary for the very cool clothes sent all the way from America.

Disgustingly Sad

Coming home to find the cat has been locked inside all day and a horrid smell coming from the bedroom......no.......... from the bed..........

Sad Also Is.....

Not being able to clean my teeth without having to stop 12 times to save my son from falling off the toilet and cracking his head open

Some Things Are Just So Sad

Perhaps one of the saddest of all is when a five year old girl says she wants to be just like Pammy Anderson. In the words of a five year old:

"I want big sexy boobies like her and hair like her and some of those shorts and her high heels. She is really sexy".

Dear Grandma and Grandpa

Sissy is my favourite person. Except when she sends me to the naughty corner for trying to climb over the stair railing.

See. I can't get it open and that's where mum keeps the ice cream!

Dear Grandma and Grandpa

My other grandma found these cute little kangaroo shaped biscuits (Dad tells me they should be called crackers or something but since we're in Australia I'll call them bickies, because I can say that). Mum is going to send them to you. Maya wants to eat them but Mum won't let her. It might take mum a little while to get to the post office though as she doesn't like to take me out very much. Apparently I'm a pain at the shops. My sister is home today because she has to go to the dentist. Those wire things on her teeth need to be checked. I really want to pull them off but sissy always tells me "NO". Mum likes having her at home because she does stuff with me and stops me from hanging around mums feet all day. I don't know why that bothers mum so much. I only want to be picked up. I don't think she loves me anymore. She won't give me an icecream when I demand one either. I try really hard to get the freezer open myself but mum has some kind of baby proof lock on it and I can't open it. Even though I scream really loud she doesn't give in. She just stands there and says I can't have one because I've already had three today. I told her they were healthy because they had yoghurt in them but she still wont' let me have them. Dad says they make me crazy. I don't know where he got that idea. Mum and Dad keep making me say new words and it's driving me crazy. I have to count to four all the time. They laugh at me because I refuse to say "one". I thought they'd be happy because I can count 2, 3 and 4 but no. That's not good enough. They want me to say 1. They say it enough so I don't think I should have to. They think too that I'll take notice of them when they start counting before I get in trouble for doing something I shouldn't be doing. I usually just use the cutest face I have and that makes them smile so I know I can get away with anything I want. Sissy doesn't get away with much though. Mum's always telling her to stop asking for stuff and to turn the Godforsaken music down. She should just throw her cars around all over the place and bash the floor with her chair because that's what I do and I don't get in trouble for it. Mum and Dad just think it's cute. Dad took care of me yesterday when Mum went to work and Dad made me have an afternoon sleep. He was stupid. I stayed up really late after that and didn't want to go to bed and Mum and Dad were really tired. Ha ha! I did sleep in though until 6am so they should be thankful.

Well I've got to go. Mum wants me to learn some new words. She thinks it's really adorable when I copy her but she'll be sorry soon. Kids who can talk ask for stuff and throw tantrums a lot so she'll regret it soon enough.

I love you
Henry
xoxoxoxo

I am so smart - SMRT

Today, during a violent thunder storm and while my 12 year old daughter was out shopping with my stunningly beautiful sister and my husband was out visiting, I managed to make the most perfect pumpkin, proscuitto and blue cheese risotto. I did this while Henry was playing at my feet. Or should I say remodelling the kitchen. You may think this is relatively easy. You'd be dead wrong. If you've ever cooked Risotto you'll know that it must be stirred constantly while cooking to help that yummy starch remove itself from the rice so that it will make the risotto nice and creamy and thick. You'll also know that it takes some time to do. Unless you have a 15 month old baby you won't know how hard it is to keep one hand on the spoon and swat a 15 month old baby away from your legs while feeding him Ski tropical yoghurt balls so he'll stop the whining, with the other hand.

PS: My husband thinks I'm going to sign off on every post with "By the way, my husband is a lazy bleep". I told him I wouldn't dare do that but I think I will anyway.

PPS: Sideways is a crap movie.

It's Christmas

I love Christmas. I love that it means we put aside time to spend with family and loved ones. I love it that we take time to be thankful for what we have. I love it that we take time to reflect on what is important in our lives. I love that we get to eat enormous amounts of delicious food and play cricket in the back yard. I love the looks on the faces of our children as they wake to see what Santa has left in their sacks (yes Maya still has a santa sack). I love to watch as the kids get excited about the tree and decorations and christmas carols. What I don't love is the overcommercialisation of it. The incessant advertising of Massive Christmas Sales. Christmas is about giving but sometimes we take it too far. Our children believe that if they don't get at least 20 presents all costing the equivalent of a years wages that we don't love them enough. I don't like it that we feel the only way we can show our love and appreciation is by spending enormous amounts of hard earned cash because that is what the retail world wants us to believe. If I was in a position to be, I would be the most generous person alive. I like to believe however that if I can't be generous with my money because I have none then I can be generous with my time and understanding. Sometimes even that is hard but I try.

I am lucky enough to live in a wealthy country. I have a home to live in, food in my cupboard, clothing to wear, electricity, clean running water, and a wonderful, loving family and the world's greatest friends. I sometimes feel a little sick to my stomach at the thought that some in the world don't have the most basic of needs and we see fit to spend money on luxuries we don't need. I am also guilty of this. I love my little luxuries and I am grateful I have them.

This Christmas we will be celebrating our good fortune while we remember that there are families in this world who have nothing.















This adorable, healthy and happy child will grow to understand and appreciate his good fortune in life.

Please call me late next week.

Please call me late next week.

I imagine that 99.9% of the worlds population who use English as a first language understand what that sentence means. Ellie, from the Mathematics Learning Institue doesn't.

She called me on Thursday to try to make a time for a representative from their company to come out and show us how their fantastic learning system works. Apropos Maya. They teach not only math skills but grammar and english skills. I told her I wouldn't be free in the time slots she offered. Of course she pushed on. I asked her to call me late next week to see how my schedule was looking then. Not that I really want to check this overpriced opportunity out. I just didn't want to say NO.

Anyway she called me Friday night. I told her I had asked her to call LATE NEXT WEEK. She apologised and said she hadn't made a note of that. She called again this morning, it only being the Saturday after the Friday. Again I reminded her that I asked her to call LATE NEXT WEEK. She apologised again and again said she hadn't made a note of that.

Now I'm guessing she has no math skill or English skill. She can't count how many days away from Thursday late next week may be nor does she know how to take notes meaning she obviously can't read or write very well. Next time she calls I may suggest she make an appointment for herself.

The Dish Difference

A few months ago I had a conversation with my 7 year old niece, Madison, about playing mums and dads. She told me that when she and her brother, Sam, play mums and dads she is always the dad and makes Sam be the mum. When I asked her why she told me it's because the mum has to go to the toilet a lot and do all the work and the dad just gets to sit on the couch and drink beer. I had to agree with her. It's true. In most homes anyway. I do know of a few, well one really, where this is not true. That woman is a very lucky woman. I would love nothing more than to sit on the couch all day and drink beer.

I guess I am telling you this because I have a problem with the way men ( my husband) do the dishes. I know a lot of men who do it the same way so I'll be general in my description. If he reads this I'll be sorry but I'll live through it.

It starts with them saying. "Honey, leave the dishes. I'll do them. I'll just finish this beer and I'll do it". Of course this makes us feel wrapped up in love. Happy that our dear ones are offering to take care of the one job we hate with a passion. They understand! So they fill the sink with water, wash some of the dishes and put them on the drainer but leave the rest to soak. They leave it until you come along and take care of the rest. The ones they couldn't quite do. I love that I only had to do the hard part and not the beginning part which is a little tedious.

I HATE doing dishes but I hate dirty dishes all over the kitchen more and he knows this which is why he knows it's only a matter of time before I come along and finish the job off.

Douglas Adams and John Lloyd have a word for this type of dishwasherupper:

Abinger (n): One who washes up everything except the frying pan, the cheese grater and the saucepan which the chocolate sauce has been made in.

They have lots of great words for things, all derived from spare words which were found lounging around on signposts.

I'm off to have a beer and sit on the couch.

So my new life begins..

I now have to learn how to live without committing any offences. I have twelve months to prove to the world of justice that I can behave and be an honest, law abiding citizen. Now, and I guess this is what they want, I am no longer complacent about the way I do anything. When I get in the car to drive I am mindful to never exceed the speed limit, not even by a miniscule amount. I open ALL my bags, wallets and pockets and demand that the checkout operator and door greeters of every store I enter check ALL of my belongings. I ask for an escort while I shop. I tie Henry's hands to the pram so he's unable to grab anything from the shelves. I offer to pay double for every item I purchase. I'm going to be a nervous wreck but at least in the eyes of the law I'll be a "good" girl.

I managed to get through the whole day today without committing an offence. At least not one I am aware of. We were however, almost knocked over by a woman who came very close to committing the worst offence. We were crossing the road on a "walk" sign when a woman in a BMW almost didn't stop as we crossed. She slammed on her brakes and skidded in front of us and came within inches of hitting us. Me, Henry and Isabella. We all got the fright of our lives. There was a young man in a car beside her and he was outraged. He screamed obscenties at her for several minutes.

Isabella and Henry on the city cat also affectionately known as the kittycat.

We went on to have a fantastic day. Exhausting but wonderful. John was babysitting Isabella (she's his granddaughter) and he invited Henry and I to join he and Isabella at Southbank. We decided to drive to the Regatta hotel, park there and catch the city cat across to give the kids a little adventure. It started to rain as soon as it took off. We all got drenched but Henry and Isabella thought this was hilarious. The rain had stopped by the time we reached Southbank however, we had lunch and let the kids run wild along the boardwalk. Henry couldn't believe how much space he had. He ran up and down, up and down, up and down. Watched the boats on the river amble past and had some ice cream. Heaven for him!

Exhausted but happy.

Ok so this is the story...

One year, $100 good behaviour bond.

I met with the solicitor this morning and he informed me that there is a clause in the law that states that "absentmindedness" can't be used as a defence. We made a plea of guilty. Because that's what the courts want and they reward you for doing that. You, the tax payer, pay for all that court time. I guess the major stores can do this over and over and over because it doesn't cost them a cent. Just costs us, the taxpayers of the nation. Most people just plead guilty to get it out of the way and dealt with because it's easier. The major stores have a zero tolerance policy. They tolerate no one. That is unless you happen to be a police officer, lawyer, doctor or of some other prominent profession. Or so I am led to believe by people who shall remain nameless. They had no idea I wasn't because they never asked. They never asked me if I had a job full stop. In fact, they didn't ask me anything. The Police prosecutor read out the charge, my solicitor asked for nothing more than a good behaviour bond and I was granted it. I just have to behave for one whole year and not steal anything. No fines so I can still afford to celebrate christmas.

So parents beware. Stop shopping!!!!

The police prosecutor was sympathetic towards my plight and believes I should never have been charged in the first place. I'm just glad it's all over and done with. Still, it was interesting sitting in on the other cases up for hearing before me. I shouldn't mention the details here but let's just say that people can commit incredibly immoral and illegal acts and get "no conviction recorded" and a minor fine in comparison to the charge. Things that make my $4.40 accidental theft pale into insignificance.

John, our friend who came along for support (my darling husband had to work) took me to lunch afterwards. Delicious food! Huge amounts of food! More salt and pepper whitebait, crackled pork, steamed dim sims, fried rice, prawn toast. Yuuumm!! That made it all worth it.

Relief from the heat

Cool Man!

I so wish I was still young enough and small enough to zoom around the yard half naked and drink from the hose and laugh when it shoots up my nose. Maybe if we lived without neighbours I would consider it. It's been a tad hot here lately. We took a walk to the shop just this morning with Bella in tow and I thought we might all be melted like some squeezy cheese before we got home. I must make a memo to myself never to try that again. Taking a walk with Henry and another small child to the shop. What a nightmare. Not only was it HOT it was painful and not because my shoes are a size too small. The getting there part was fine except when Bella wanted to push the pram and kept steering it into the gutter and nearly hurling Henry over the front bar. The actual shopping part was a nightmare. Bella insisted on walking in front of the pram in the supermarket and they only make those aisles wide enough to fit a size 6 supermodel so the pram wheels kept knocking the cans of spaghetti from the shelves and Henry's arms grabbed anything they could reach. I got to the check out and loaded the goods on the counter top, at least I attempted to. They kept falling off. As I picked them up Henry would reach up and throw some things back down. AAaaaarrrrrghhghghg!!!! A dear elderly member of our community couldn't squeeze her walking aide past us so she just proceeded to bash the backs of my feet with it until I moved. I mentioned to her that all she needed to do was ask me kindly to move aside and I would have been happy to. This elicited a politish grunt.

The nightmare of shopping with children! I know a lot of you have been eager to her the latest news related to my newly acquired charge of "taking away shop goods". It was while shopping with Henry that I was handed this. It was also, in part, Carla's fault as I was shopping for morning tea for my visit with her too. Sorry Carla. That's not really true I know. It is all my own fault. Anyway this was very embarrassing for me for some time, now I just think it's stupid and pathetic and a waste of time and has the potential to ruin my future employment prospects or visits to the States.

I accidentally walked out of major department store, Myareyouahoplifter (names changed to protect the idiots), and into another major department store, Targetcha with $4.40 (this price has changed officially in all documentation from $3.50 to $3.95 to $4.40 - sometimes even referred to as being $11.95 - who knows what it's really worth but I'll go for $4.40 as that's what the court brief says) worth of baby swimming pants hanging on the side of the pram. I hung them there while browsing, promptly forgot they were there and walked out. Anyway maybe they may have stayed there unnoticed by anyone if I hadn't gone to Targetcha. The "doorgreeter" (official court brief title) asked me if I had a recipt for the enormous box of nappies I had been lugging around with me before I entered her store. When I moved the nappies to find it, I noticed the swimmers hanging there. I said a swear word and told her I'd just walked out of Myareyouashoflifter with them and better take them back. She offered to but I wanted them but also wanted to get out of there. I hate shopping. So I went into Targetcha with them on my stroller and bought something and left fully intending to go back to Myareyouashoplifter but forgot after I bought some donuts for morning tea and went to the car to leave. When I got to the car I saw them again and intended to go back and pay for them but didn't get a chance. The lovely doorgreeter from Targetcha had nothing better to do but follow me around to make sure I didn't get away with $4.40 worth of baby swimming pants that weren't even from her store. She took them and then a lovely female police officer came and took me to her office and charged me because Myareyouashoplifter wanted her to. Anyway I asked to speak with the ACTING Manager of Myareyouashoplifter to offer to pay and sort this out and the police officer granted me the opportunity to do this but the ACTING Manager told me I needed to be taught a lesson. Apparently she feared I may be a little brain damaged and not able to fully comprehend the consequences of my actions. Obviously she was going to be looking for a new job as MANAGER somewhere and needed to be able to answer selection criteria in relation to her ability to apprehend thieves. She may also have been tracking my movements for several years.

I had to show up in court. After three months and my legal representatives attempting to have the charges dropped, Myareyouashoplifter are not going to come to the party and drop the charges. The police prosecutor recommended they do but I guess they need to make an example of me. A message to mothers everywhere.

I've been guilty of doing this before. Not intentionally but I've done it. Every mother has. Their children take things unbeknownst to the parents and the parents get home and discover their newly acquired bits and pieces. Do you think they are going to get back in the car with the screaming, tired children and go back to the store and fess up?? No. As if! The bloody corporations destroy our very being anyway by insulting our intelligence with their stupid in-your-face advertising campaigns cleverly designed to extract our hard earned cash and dump it in their cash registers.

Now I have to decide whether to plead guilty (because we have a justice system that rewards that, guilty or not) or plead not guilty and risk a possibly massive fine, court costs and legal costs for Myareyouashoplifter. I want to plead not guilty because I am. Not guilty of intentionally walking out ofa fine store with an item of clothing that had the potential to make or break their monthly profit margin. I'm also tired of it and want it over and done with. I'm sick of it. Plus I can't afford a massive fine. I'm sure Myareyouashoplifter have the finest legal team available to them and will do their very best to bring me down and make me pay. Sigh, if only I'd never gone shopping.

Kids are so Darn Cute

Why is it that most kids won't ask a straight question? We have Isabella (she's five) staying over tonight. She's hungry but instead of just asking for some watermelon this is what she said. Bear in mind that there was a massive slice of watermelon on the table in front of us where this conversation took place.

Bella: Do you know what I had for breakfast when I was at Straddie?
Me: Coco Pops?
Bella: Noooo (chuckles as though I have absolutely no idea about anything)
Me: Fruit Loops?
Bella: Nooooo. I had so much fruit. I had 8 apples, 5 oranges and 18 bananas. I love fruit. That's all I eat now.
Me: Well that's good because fruit is very good for you.
Bella: I don't eat anything else.
Me: Well you have to eat things other than just fruit.
Bella: Yeah but no sweeties.
Me: No. Sweeties are bad for you.
Bella: I really love watermelon (eyeing it off)
Me: We don't have any. (joking but knowing exactly what she is getting at).
Bella: Oh Look there's some there. My Dad brought it over.
Me: Would you like some?
Bella: Yes please.

It reminds me of the time my nephew came to stay. He's five also. He eats like a horse who's been denied any food for about 3 weeks. One morning after preparing him 6 meals and it wasn't even 9am I told him he couldn't possibly be hungry and I wasn't going to get him anything else to eat before 10am. I had things to get done. I wanted OUT of the kitchen. Anyway he comes to me about five minutes later and says "Aunty Shell, I'm not hungry anymore. I'm not going to ask for anything to eat until 10 o'clock. How long is it till 10 o'clock?"

Henry on the other hand seems to have gone off his food. Well at least all his good, nutritious food. He has this thing he does when he's hungry. He points to some mysterious place above the microwave oven and goes "mmm yyyuumm, nnnuuummm". Everything we give him isn't the right thing so he shakes his head and says "nup". We also have a stash of frozen yoghurt ice cream in the freezer and he sits by the freezer desperately trying to pry the child safety device off it to get in there and nab one. He can't believe we would be so cruel as to deny him the pleasure of stashing 12 of these in his tummy a day. He's not wasting away to nothing so I guess he's doing ok. He still weighs around 40 kilos. Ok that's a little overexaggerated but it sure feels like that sometimes.

We took him to the park this afternoon and I swear he thought it was the best day of his life. He was sooo excited! He ran around with his fists clenched and his arms stiffened, squealing. There was so much room to run and so much green grass. Ben did some thing where he was jumping off the stairs to the playground equipment and Henry thought this was almost as funny as me dancing to Friday Night Fever. He laughed until he fell over with tears running down his face. That kid has a wicked sense of humour. He does so many cute things. When he falls over we say "dust off your hands" and he does it. When he's in the shower we say "wash your hair" and he puts his hands on his head and starts massaging his scalp. When we ask him is he hungry he says "mmmmmm yyyyuuuumm". Any other questions he's asked he always replies with "huh?" as though he didn't hear us. He smells all the flowers he pulls off all my flowering bushes, sticks them up his nose and sniffs. He blows on his food before he eats it. He hears a siren in the distance and immediately starts his siren sounds. He hears the kookaburra's and he says "kooka". Anything with wheels is a "car". He says "hal-lo" when we go to get him out of his bed when he wakes from a nap. He tells me when he has a "pooooeee". He thinks his sister is the best thing since sliced bread. He loves his walk, but just like his mama he hates shopping.

The Happy Chef

One of my favourite things about work is lunch. The discussion about our lunchtime dining usually begins a few seconds after we turn on our computers. 8.01am - "good morning, so where are we going for lunch today and what time? I thought perhaps 9.30am would be a good time to start. I'm already dreaming of Vermicelli noodles, sugar cane prawn fun rolls and sizzling Mongolian Lamb so how about The Vietnamese?" Thing is The Vietnamese (an actual Vietnamese restaurant called The Vietnamese) is the one restaurant we always go back to. In fact we almost never go anywhere else. The food is fantastic and CHEAP. Did I say it's cheap? It's very cheap! Really cheap! Cheap and good! Way good! Delicious! Oh, and it's Vietnamese food. Today, however we decided to try an old favourite from way back, The Happy Chef. The food there was always good but for some reason our Jewish work colleague didn't like the sight of the dead pigs being carried through the restaurant via the front door to the kitchen by the delivery boy so we decided to start going elsewhere. The Happy Chef was also CHEAP and DELICIOUS despite the tacky decor with the tubular chairs but we had forgotten how good. We ordered a serve of salt and pepper five spice whitebait and Mongolian Lamb followed by Deep Fried Ice Cream. My God! I think I love this place more than the Vietnamese all over again! They have new purple paint and new untubular chairs too making it a little more bearable decor wise. The food was soooooooo gooood. I could have eaten the same thing all over again before we left. I didn't even feel full. I mustn't have eaten enough. Usually it's impossible to walk back to work after eating lunch but I could have ordered a banquet and still have managed to walk home. Not that it wasn't satisfying, it just didn't make me feel lethargic and bloated. I love that. I haven't had gas pains either .....yet. Fortunately it's almost time to go home to my loving family and Maya has a friend staying over tonight so I can only hope the Gas pains don't develop between now and when I reach our front door. That would be so uncool.

Cool as a Cucumber - A refrigerated one.

It's hard to be a cool mum. I try so hard that my "coolness" sits somewhere around minus three degrees. What constitutes a cool mum anyway? Should I be wearing torn up jeans which cost a months wages? Should I learn the new language of online and text messaging? OMG GTG PRW (I believe this means Oh My God, got to go, parents are watching). Should I be excited about polyphonic ring tones and ipods? Should I start reading Girlfriend magazine? I'm not really sure at all what it takes to be a cool mum but I know what I shouldn't do. Below are some of those things:

I shouldn't fart
I shouldn't dance
I shouldn't laugh
I shouldn't wear clothing items that don't go together, even at home
I shouldn't ask about the practicality of "cool" stuff like polyphonic ring tones
I shouldn't speak in front of her friends unless it's to offer them food or money
I shouldn't tell stories about my own childhood
I shouldn't tell stories about her childhood
I shouldn't ask about her boyfriend
I shouldn't say I hate shopping
I shouldn't get my hair cut short
I shouldn't say coke rots your teeth
I shouldn't be broke
I shouldn't say "go to bed, it's getting late"
I shouldn't drive the volvo with her in it

I know I was a teenager once but I always thought my mum was cool. She drove the car in 4th gear around corners and ALWAYS exceeded the speed limit. I suspect this was because she was vague (nickname Mini-Vague) rather than cool but it sure impressed my friends. They all wanted HER to drive us to the school disco. She ALWAYS wore high heels. This also impressed my friends no end. Especially the young boys who grew up to have a penchant for high heels themselves. She NEVER complained when we took money from her purse without asking (min- vague. She probably never realised). She had a better record collection than me - well, bigger but not sure if it was better. I've got to admit though that we loved nothing more than listening to Herb Albert bashing out some tunes with the Tijuana Brass Band. She had really cool friends who seemed to drink a lot and wear beautifully flowing chiffon dresses and had perfectly coiffed hair styles. My mother was the most beautiful among them though and she never drank. Oh, except for this one occasion on her 35th birthday. She must have had about 3 drinks and she was hungover for days. Once she painted a red feature wall in our lounge room and this was oh so risque according to my friends whose mother's would never have dared to be so daring. She owned a giftware boutique that sold "rudie" items like playing cards with semi-naked girls on them and edible underwear. You have no idea how popular I became after she introduced this range to the store. My mother was cool. She was the mother everyone wanted. She was cool without even trying.

I love my mother. She's still pretty cool and she doesn't even know what the word means.

Paw Paw = Poo Poo

Paw paw is an amazing fruit. It's one of those plants that has many health benefits when eaten but also has important biochemical properties which make it useful in pharmacuetical applications. It has a distinctive smell both before it's eaten and afterwards. Henry loves it but calls it "poo poo". This is quite appropriate because the poo poo still smells like paw paw when it comes out the other end. Funny too that a nappy rash cream is made from fermented paw paw. It smells distinctly like paw paw too but I guess that it should because that's what it's made from. Why do I tell you this? Because Henry is learning more and more words everyday. Poo and poo are just two of them. He watches our mouths as we talk and moves his lips soundlessly before attempting to say it out loud. Of course he says "bum" but most kids learn this word early. Anything to do with unmentionable body parts are generally among the first words spoken. Included in his repertoire are "car", "truck", "big truck", "walk" (pronounced qwark), "shoes", "mum", "sissy", "dad", "plane", "mmm yum", "poo poo", "bum", "poooeee" (this is how he tells me his nappy is uncomfortably full). He hasn't repeated any terrible swear words yet but I'm sure that will come. He has said "shit" though. Is this a terrible swear word? I figure that in the world of really terrible swear words this one rates pretty low. Once when I driving the car and had to slam on the brakes when a car pulled out in front of me and I said "oh shit" he repeated me. He said "ssshhhhit". It sounded more like air being released from a tyre but it was obvious that he was copying me. I guess I better start watching what I say from here on in.





He cleans his teeth too. He has his own "special" toothbrush and toothpaste. For some reason he likes to do this several times a day. I guess that's a good thing but I'm worried he'll clean them so much they'll start to disappear. If only his sister felt the same affection for her toothbrush and toothpaste. She's almost 13 and still needs to be told to clean her teeth.

Henry Says Hello

He's asleep. I can quickly tell you about the latest addition to his vocabulary. Just two days ago he learned the word hello. We have an old phone and he loves to play with it. He also loves to throw it across the room with his other toys but this particular day he wanted to learn how to use it. He puts the handpiece to his ear, reversed but he didn't know that, and said very clearly "hal - lo" in a singsong voice. It was so adorably cute and we all clapped and cheered as we do when he learns something new. Now whenever the phone rings he says "Hal - lo". Of course we get excited and stupidly believe that the person on the other end may want to hear him say this and put the phone to his ear but he clams up. Nothing comes out. Not even a breath. The other person waits patiently, thinking of all the other things they would rather be doing, like maybe lapping up a spot of sunshine by a pool somewhere in Fiji, but nothing. Not a sound. It's the curse of a parent to believe that everyone will be excited by the small milestones our children make. They don't really care. They just humour us by listening to our never ending dialogue of how wonderful our children are and how smart and advanced they are. I just want to say that my children are wonderful, smart and advanced.

Mmmmm Sleep Makes Me Happy

So today I am happy. I got to sleep in until 4.45am. Whooppee! I even greeted my darling son with something akin to undying love when he woke for allowing us the pleasure to sleep just an hour longer. I know some people think that this is way early but for us it's almost like the days before children.

Sunday morning Henry woke at 3.15am. We went for a walk at 4.15am. Normally I would think taking a walk at that hour would have the potential to kill me. Ben had stayed up late building a computer for some friends so I kindly allowed him to sleep in which is why I took Henry out of the house. It's impossible to keep him quiet. The day before he went down to bed around 3.30pm for what I thought would be a nice afternoon nap. When he hadn't woken by 6.30pm I knew he was in for the long haul. I went to bed reasonably early in anticipation of him waking up at some ungodly hour. Sure enough at 3.15 he was shaking the side of the cot impatient to get out of it and start tearing the place apart. After two cups of tea I was ready to face the world. The sun was just starting to rise, the air was still and humid and we were off. It turned out to be the most pleasant walk I have taken around this neighbourhood. There was no one around. It was so quiet and peaceful. We ventured around some streets I haven't yet been down which run along Enoggera Creek . The creek runs through a beautiful native reservoir. The birds were up fetching their breakfast and I was amazed to hear the sweet sounds of the whip bird. I had no idea they lived anywhere so close to us. They are called the whip bird because they call out to each other in a distinctive whip like sound. One is always followed by its mate who may be some distance away. They're very hard to catch a sight of however. I've never managed to be able to see one in the trees as they're quite elusive.

Henry was able to get out of his pram and run without fear of being knocked over by a soccer ball or pushbike. He ran along the path and through the dew wet grass at full speed. I wish I had taken the camera but my mind was still half asleep so there are no photos. By the time we came home he was worn out and ready to go back to bed. I should have too at this point but I was wide awake and really wanted to spend some quiet time on my own while the house slept.

Had I known he was going to go to bed early and wake at the same time yesterday morning I would have tried to get more sleep. Yesterday morning at exactly the same time he was awake and shaking the side of the cot. It was Ben's birthday. I had to go to work and so did he. How we managed I have no idea. Mum was happy though as he had two nice long naps for her. Ben had requested chicken parmigiana for dinner and although tired and grumpy I still managed to lovingly prepare this delicious dish.

Today is the day that large rallies protesting against John Howards newly proposed Industrial Relations laws are planned around the country. I thought about going but I don't think I'd cope too well with Henry in such large crowds. I've voiced my opinion in many other ways. John Howard and the Liberal Party control the Senate and the House of Representatives now meaning they can pass any laws they please. The protest rallies are obviously only that. At the end of the day that is really all that can be done. Maybe the threat of losing voters may be enough to persuade them but it's doubtful.

I might start a "ban mobile phones everywhere but in the privacy of the loo" movement. Maya's had hers three days now and I swear all conversation with her has ceased. What she does on it I have no idea but she sits pressing buttons, creating horrid sounds and seems to be totally oblivious to the world around her. Yesterday she called me from the bus to ask me if her friend could come and play. I expect part of the reason for doing this was so she could make a call on her "flip" phone and impress everyone no end. There were kids screaming in the background and making lewd comments causing Maya to spend more time screaming at the them to shutup than she did talking to me about her plans. I'm so glad I'm no longer a teenager.

mobile intrusion

Mobile phones are a great invention. Why? I'm not sure. I guess they opened up a new world of communication. We can be contacted at any time of the day or night anywhere, we happen to be. We can make phone calls any time of the day or night, wherever we happen to be. This could be a good thing if we used them for their intended purpose. I have one but I bought it for "emergencies" even though I haven't had an emergency that required a mobile phone yet. But that doesn't mean I won't in the future. My phone is capable of calling 000 if I come across someone requiring emergency medical assitance or police help but it also does a number of other things which are of no benefit to me at all. I have games, calendar, calculator, a selection of ear piercing ring tones, and some other things that I have never looked at or used. They're there if I need them and that puts my mind at ease. In our modern times one needs to be entertained at all times so if ever I find myself with nothing better to do I can spend the time learning about my phone.

Why do I go on so about mobile phones? Well, today Maya bought a new one. An early birthday present from her father and I that she absolutely had to have. This all started with the never ending wad of junk mail that finds its way to our mail box everyday. Big W had a "bling" phone in their latest catalogue. What was cool about this phone? It had stick on diamantes! That makes all the difference when one is looking for a piece of technology to enhance their lives. After many conversations (one sided of course. My side. She wasn't prepared to listen or even entertain what I had to say) about what she needed in a phone she was still determined to have this particular one. I asked her what it was she thought was necessary in a phone. The conversation went something like this:

Me: So what is it you think you need a phone to do?
Maya: It needs a camera and polyphonic ring tones.
Me: Oh so it doesn't matter whether or not it actually makes phone calls or can receive them?
Maya: Well yeah but it's got to be cool. I need a camera so I can take photos.
Me: of what?
Maya: My friends
Me: But isn't that why we have a camera?
Maya: You don't understand. (apparently I dont' understand anything) I'm sure when you were my age you had to have cool stuff too and the latest of everything.
Me: Yeah but we knew we wouldn't get them so we didn't bother to ask.
Maya: well it's different now. If you don't have cool stuff then people think you're pov and random. (what random means I have no idea)

So off we went to check out the phones. Of course an argument ensued in front of the cool and hip phone salesman who wasn't sure what to do. We ended up with one without a camera because it looked cool. It's a flip phone and has polyphonic ring and MP3 tones. Cool huh! We've spent the afternoon listening to the available tones that come with the phone. All are equally apalling. Our peace and quiet (when we get it) has been shattered by a small piece of technology that beeps and rings and makes all kinds of horrid sounds whenever a button is pressed while Maya scrolls through the available options. Then came the internet search for downloadable tones. She has $10 worth of free credit and wants to spend it on getting new tones. $6.60 for one. These things have been developed purely to encourage further spending on totally unnecesarry user pays options.

Living in a developed and wealthy country (even if individuals are not wealthy) means one is expected to have in ones possession certain societal necessities. Like mobile phones. If we lived in a developing country those with mobile phones, up to the minute fashions, shoes, and food to eat would be the exception rather than the rule. How hard it is to raise a teenager in an environment like ours. Nothing is ever good enough. I try hard to teach her about the evils of consumerism but I'm afraid I'm fighting a losing battle. How am I to survive when Henry becomes old enough to become aware of the push to be cool and HAVE.

Balloon Landing

This morning at around 6.30 am the hot air balloons were drifting across the skyline, as they often do around this time. They were low and we could hear the hot air being blown up into the balloon. Sometimes they are so low as they go over we can hear them talking. We picked up Henry who was fascinated for all of about 2 minutes. As we watched however they all decided to land. Probably due to lack of windpower. It's a very still and slightly overcast morning. The white one landed in the park area just a few streets away from us. We threw Henry in the car (not literally) and headed down to take a look. There were a few onlookers with their children but it was hard to get close as they were on the other side of the creek. Still, it was a exciting start to the morning.

Category 5

My poor mother! She felt the full effects of Cylcone Henry today. He was in fine form. He woke up a category 5 and pretty much stayed that way. I dropped him off around 8am and watched him get his cars, head to the door in time to see a fire engine zoom past and then climb up on the piano stool and play a few bars of mozart before I left for the peace and quiet of work. Ahhhhh, blissful quiet. I called mum an hour later and she sounded very flustered. For the first time she admitted he was "full on". In the hour he'd been there he'd managed to climb on a stool beside the TV in effort to reach the summmit which was the TV. He'd climbed on the lounge and tried to open the windows so he could fling himself outside, pulled everything off every surface that was in reach, climb on some more things, and bang on the piano some more. I think she was frazzled and it was only 9am! Fortunately he had a sleep not long after and gave her some relief from the whirlwind. When I got there this afternoon to pick him up they were no where to be seen. I just followed the trail of destruction. I got him home and he had his tucker and went straight to bed. I can only thank my mother for allowing me to enjoy the peace that is called "work".

Maya has a friend sleeping over tonight. That means I have to be the "cool" mum and not say anything embarrasing. That's hard to do. It means I can't say ANYTHING as anything I say is not cool. Apparently. Here they are after spending an afternoon taking snaps of themselves.
Of course as soon as I got home Maya introduced me to her friend and then told me not to be embarrassing. I told her I'd try but I couldn't promise anything as it was only a matter of time before I had to speak.

Pantry Pixie

Proof that he tries to feed himself. Not very successfully but he tries.




This is the destruction Henry caused in the kitchen in the fifteen minutes it took me to chop some tomatoes for relish just a little while ago.

The Joys of Parenthood

We love and adore our son but that doesn't mean we want to see him at 4am wide awake and ready to read a book. I guess if he was a little older and enjoyed the Wiggles we could teach him to operate the electronic babysitter and go back to sleep for a bit. I used to think going to work 9 to 5, five days a week and getting paid for it was hard but staying at home and working seven days a week, 24 hours a day and not getting paid for it is far more challenging.

If I were to do a pros and cons sheet I know which job would come out with an "easy" level rating but it definitely wouldn't rate highly on the rewarding scale. Would it???

Let's take a look

Paid employment:

Weekly pay packet
Air conditioning
Adult conversation (sometimes not necessarily more interesting but easier to understand)
A comfortable chair on which to rest your weary legs
Lunch breaks
Morning tea and afternoon tea breaks
Meetings in which you can catch on sleep by taking a quick nap
Paid sick days
Paid annual leave
Someone else comes to clean the office


Parent:

No weekly pay packet
Constantly empty bank account
Unpaid sick leave - in fact there is no such thing as sick leave, paid or unpaid
Unpaid annual leave - no such thing as annual leave either
Dirty nappies
Dirty house
Dirty clothes
Dirty dishes
Early mornings
No toilet breaks (at least not alone)
No lunch break
No morning or afternoon tea breaks
No interesting adult conversation
No airconditioning
The following qualifications would also be desirablel: Teacher, nurse, psychologist, Financial planner, nutritionist.


The list is not comprehensive but it's plain to see a full time job wins in the easy department hands down. What you don't get with paid employment is the joy of seeing your children learn new and exciting things everyday, having them hug you and tell you they love you, loving them as they experience the first pains of a broken heart, first knee scrapes from falling off the swing, and hearing their laughter as they chase each other through the house.

Still not sure if I'm convinced :)

I went to work yesterday and am going again tomorrow. I've got to tell you I'm pretty excited about that. My mother has Henry on Fridays and although she says she absolutely loves every minute of it I can tell she is exhausted by the time I arrive to collect him in the afternoon. She's not young anymore. When I call through the day to see how she's coping she's usually laughing at some antic he's been up to. How she manages I don't know. Her home is full of beautiful and very breakable nick nacks. She manages to keep them safe with him around. Either that or she just doesn't tell me when he's broken something. She keeps a stash of toy matchbox cars on a shelf in her TV room and this is the first place he heads to when he gets there in the morning. He then goes directly to the front door where he has a view through the fly screen of the passing traffic. "Car, oooh car" he says over and over. She has a fire station in the next block from her house. I took Henry there one day to show him the fire trucks and the very nice fireman allowed him to sit in the front seat of the truck. The seat is operated by a pneumatic pump and this allows it to be raised or lowered. It makes that air whooshing sound as it goes up and down but Henry was a little frighted of this. He prefered to wander aound the truck on the ground and play with the wheels and feel the shiny red paint. He was in awe. Maybe he'll be a firefighter when he grows up. I would rather he was a high paid lawyer or doctor so he may be able to keep Ben and I in a manner better than we live now. Anything's possible I guess.

I'm sure if ever my mother feels she can't cope she'll tell me. She's given up attempting to take him visiting with her. He destroys the beautiful homes of her friends whose children have also grown up and left home and gone, preferably, to live overseas with their grandchildren meaning they only visit once every now and then. I know I over exaggerate and all grandparents love to have their grandchildren around. They also have the luxury of giving them back once they've had their fun with them. So they should too. They've finished raising their children...well one would hope they have. I find I still need to go to my mother for help occasionally or to have a good cry or to just vent about something. Her words are wise and soothing. I guess this is the job of a mother. It starts at birth and doesn't ever stop.

Beautiful children

Sleeping beauty and the daughter who is so addicted to the Simpsons that she couldn't take her eyes off the TV long enough for a photo to be taken.