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.

The Fridge Full of Empty Plates

Can anyone tell me why certain household members feel it necessary to leave an empty plate in the refrigerator? I don't know if this happens in other homes but in mine it's a regular occurrence. Certain teenage girls take food items from plates but leave the empty plate there, or empty a container of lychees and leave only the juice. Or take the last piece of chocolate and leave the empty wrapper. I think I'm going to start piling these things up and putting them on her bed so she has to move them to get into it. I've tried that with her pile of clean washing but she usually just throws it on the floor and leaves it there until I tell her to clean her room and then brings it all back upstairs, still clean, and puts it in the laundry to be washed again!

I often wonder how housewives of the fifties managed to keep their homes so clean. They didn't have day care then and had to clean around a houseful of children and a husband who needed his dinner at 6pm. I did an internet search to help me with clues but couldn't find any. Yesterday I got up and vacuumed, washed, and generally tidied up and then Henry woke up and destroyed it all again. Did the housewives of the fifties drink lots of vodka to numb them to the pain? I know that in the very early days children were tethered to a pole to keep them safe and stop them from doing themselves a terrible injury in those homes that had open fire places for cooking etc and maybe that's the solution that needs to be employed in the naughties again. We don't have an open fire place but I'm damned if I can find time to fold the washing let alone put it away with Henry running around and pulling things down as I put them up . Maybe the kids were threatened to within an inch of their lives if they dared mess things up. Maybe husbands were threatened with divorce if they dared not put their undies in the washing basket instead of on the floor.

Above is a picture of my darling son after he'd just yanked all the folded clean washing off the floor to get to his sisters spongebob squarepants bag. I'll do my best to train him to be a good husband but so far I don't think my chances are great. He likes things better when they're spread around all over the place.

The dining table is another story. Why is that EVERYONE has to throw everything on the dining table? Why can't they just put it away where it's supposed to go? After all it is usually only a few steps from the dining table but that would mean they may have to move more than necessary and actually open a drawer or cupboard and that would expend energy they require for watching TV. Maybe it's a ploy so that we can't sit at the dinner table to eat and so dinner will have to be eaten in front of the Simpsons. Maybe sitting at the dinner table to eat would require of them conversational skills that they would rather not possess. Maybe they're scared I will ask them to be more considerate and start cleaning up after themselves. Maybe I should just throw the TV away.

Now that I have that whine off my chest I will change the subject. Henry and I just took a walk with Maya to the bus stop. We waved her off and then walked past the local butcher shop. The lads are feeling the Christmas spirit already and have placed a lifesize dancing Santa outside the shop. Of course it's stinking hot in this country at Christmas but we still adopt the Santa of the cold climes dressed up in a red velvet suit with a nice big bushy white beard and big black boots. I felt like I was going to melt just looking at him. Anyway Henry wasn't quite sure what to make of him at first. He stared very intently for some time before looking at me for reassurance. Once he realised it was ok he started to do a little dance in the pram. Very cute. It will be fun this christmas watching Henry get excited by the Christmas lights and the tearing off of paper from his presents (if he's lucky enough to get any). Christmas is only fun when there are kids to share it with. With any luck the weather will be cool enough to enjoy it. I think we're planning on celebrating it with my brother and his girlfriend at their house. That means that she will be doing all the preparations because the men in our family like to have the parties but don't like to do the work. They enjoy the fruits of the women's labour and then drink beer and play cricket in the backyard and then have a sleep while the women clean up after lunch.

Well I sit here waiting for John to arrive so I can rewrite his job application. I can't tell you how excited I am about that. Another example of men who need women to do their bidding. Maybe I'll write to Germaine Greer for some helpful advice.

Talk soon.

I can't stand it!

I hate addressing selection criteria! I sat down just now to try to finish it off and it's not there. We spent a few hours on it last week and now it's not there! It's gone! Disappeared! Obviously I forgot to save it! I called John to break the news secretly hoping he'd say "forget about it. I've just been offered a better job and I'll be earning hundreds of thousands and won't have to do anything for it" (John's ideal job) but no. He says "Oh well, I guess we'll have to do it again" as cheery as can be. It's got to be sent by Wednesday to arrive in time but I've got nothing better to do. So I'll just spend the rest of the day crying and hope that tomorrow I'm sick or something so that I don't have to do it.

The Ring Snatching Ginger

This is the Native Ginger Bush I was "trimming" when I lost my ring. Do you think there's any chance I'll find it? Somehow I don't think so.

The Delicious Dance

Henry spent hours getting in and out of this dolls pram and pushing it around. I think we'll have to get him one for Christmas.

When we arrived home from Toowoomba yesterday he was delighted to once again have access to the saucepan drawer. He thought he might just enjoy a little bit of dancing around the pot before attempting to get into it. He has a special dance that we've called the "Delicious Dance". He dances a funny jig while saying "licious" when he's just eaten something delicious.



We've just spent the weekend in Toowoomba. A nice idea but it's always such an effort to get away and one always comes home more exhausted than when one left. Even for a night the car needs to be packed to the brim with prams, travel cots, nappies, pillows, suitcases etc...It was fun though and we got to spend some time with my sister and her husband and children. It took us almost all day to get there and it's less than an hours drive away. First we had to have the usual morning routine of getting up, feeding Henry, having breakfast ourselves and then laze around on the lounge chair for a few hours while thinking about getting organised (well I don't do this but certain other people I won't mention do). I wanted to leave when Henry was due for a sleep but this didn't work out because thinking about getting organised took longer than I expected so he had his sleep and then we left. Fortunately he was entertained in the back seat by Maya the whole way who lovingly read him books and pointed out all the big trucks as we went past. We arrived eary afternoon. It started to pour with rain shortly after that. The boys set in for an afternoon of boy gossip and a few beers. The girls (my sister and I), as girls do, went off to buy supplies for the evening dinner while the boys relaxed because Lord knows they needed it. They work so hard!

Henry had a sleep in my sister's air conditioned bedroom while the other children played happily. My sister then informed me that she would be taking care of her husband's niece and nephew for the night also. It was a full house. Busy and loud. There were also another couple who came for dinner so we had equal proportions of adults and children. Fun!!!!

Henry had a great time because there was grass to play on (we have none) a puppy to chase after, kids to play with and new toys to inspect and destroy.

Maya was such a delight and took care of the other children and her bossiness came in very handy in keeping them under control. We enjoyed a BBQ dinner and conversation before bed. Of course Henry woke at his usual hour of 5am. We had breakfast and left to come home. All of us tired and ready to go to bed ourselves. Henry had only had a half hour sleep in the car and so we put him down for a nap at around 3.30pm and he slept until 4.30am this morning. We didn't get to bed until around 9.30pm as we got a little distracted by Australian Idol on the television.

I decided, as you do, to do a spot of gardening just before the sun went down and lost a gold pinky ring. I think it's gone forever but I will attempt to have a good look for it. I guess if it's gone it's gone. Maya has promised to help me look for it when she comes home from school this afternoon. We'll see if she keeps that promise.


I'm going to attempt to do a few jobs around here while Henry sleeps. More to come soon.

Michelle needs......

This one is for you Carla, ( a friend and work colleague who has her own blog). I am at work and should be dutifully sticking Air Mail stickers onto several hundred envelopes but since that's so incredibly boring I thought I'd take a break.

Carla recently tried a fun google trick. You type in your name and after it the word need, as in "Michelle needs". The following is the result of this google search.


Michelle needs your help........Apparently a North Carolina woman was left $16000 in debt after her husband left her and a terrible series of unfortunate events left her homeless, broke, depressed and without a lover. She's now seeking financial donations via the internet. I've tried every other avenue to get money but this. Maybe this is what I need to do!!!! Do you think anyone would send money to me? I doubt it.

Michelle needs her own reality TV show....I've always known this and in some ways my life is like a reality TV show but without the camera and commentary. I write a daily blog which is similar to a video diary I guess, we vote certain disgusting dinner ideas out of the house, and we have no privacy.

Michelle needs a home that can accept her limitations....I have limitations, many of them. I am limited by my need for sleep, my need to go to the bathroom alone, to have uninterrupted telephone conversations and to be able to prepare dinner without having a small child permanently attached to my legs. I can only sweep the floor up to 4 times a day because I am limited by my aching back. I can only read the truck book 20 times a day or I start dreaming of trucks. I am limited by my inability to accept that I am the only person in the house who knows what the word housework means......

And the best of all...Michelle needs to shut the @#$) up....I took offence to this. I can go on sometimes but I didn't think a website devoted to the cause was necessary, or the swearing for that matter.

I notice that nowhere there did it say "Michelle needs a holiday"

Last night while I was writing the Spaghetti Diaries Maya asked me why I didn't write anything about her (obviously she hadn't read it yet and hadn't yet realised I had written her name several times in the post). Anyone who has raised a teenage daughter or been a teenager girl themselves knows that answering such a question requires a lot of diplomatic skill. Whatever you say could be misinterpreted. If for example I were to say "But I have written about you" she would immediately retaliate with "You have not" not believing a word I say. If I were to say "well I'm just new to this and I wanted to get some stuff in here for Grandma Mary and Grandad Richard to read and I was going to devote a whole post to you soon" she would reply with "You were not". If I were to say "I have no intention of writing about you" she would say "See I knew it". Teenage girls believe you've always got it in for them. She told me I probably don't write about her because she doesn't do anything exciting anymore like dancing, getting straight A's, cute things, Art lessons.... I promise my next post will be devoted to her alone!


Anyway I am going back to sticking stickers on envelopes. It's nearly lunch time!

Sushi on the Tongue

Today I'm feeling very tired. Not because of Henry (well to be honest he's part of the problem) but because I spent the weekend just gone preparing and enjoying a party for my sister's 40th birthday. Combine that with taking care of a very active 14 month old boy who insists on waking before 5am, a 12 year old teenage girl, a loving husband and trying to help a friend apply for a public service position and I'm desperately in need of a holiday.

Public service job applications are like writing an advertising campaign promoting John Howard's newly proposed Industrial Relations changes. In short it's really all about using buzz words which mean nothing but have the potential to influence your life in several ways. It encourages lies and deceit. Anyway we'll press on and hope for the best.

I took the photo above of Henry just this morning sitting in his chair reading one of his favourite books which Grandma sent to him. He has several favourites and all day long he brings them to us and hits our legs with them until we give in and read them. It's not enough to just read though, one must point to all the pictures and make all the correct sounds otherwise he gets quite upset. The fire engines must make siren sounds. The garbage truck must make garbage truck sounds and the speed boats must "whoosh". Sometimes his books, along with some of his other toys get thrown down the stairs in the hope that we may go and get them and therefore have to take him down stairs with us and maybe get in the car and go for a drive. We've become wise to his ways now and mostly just leave them there until we can be bothered making the trek downstairs to retrieve them. He has several favourite ads on TV and runs from wherever he is to watch them. He particularly likes the ads that have catchy tunes and will stand in front of the tv and dance. He's learned to change the channel too and often interrupts the news when we're watching it.

Yesterday we went to visit John and of course they rarely have very small children in their home so their home is not particularly toddler friendly. They have internal stairs which we have to block with a large leather lounge. He hates that and stands at the chair grunting and groaning while trying to move it out of the way. They do have a lovely little courtyard with some beautiful plants. Henry loves to get in amongst these and yesterday got stuck in the branches of one bush. He just sat there saying "stuck" until I went to his rescue. I've got to admit it would have been nice to leave him there for five minutes peace while I enjoyed my cup of tea. Of course once we left there the house was somewhat worse for wear. He'd managed to unroll the toilet paper, pull all the magnets off the fridge, tear up a few magazines and tip dirt all over the pavers.

He tried sushi for the first time yesterday and didn't like it. He used to eat anything until he realised his tongue was to be used for tasting. Now he looks at the food and then sticks the tip of his tongue out to taste and feel the texture before he puts it in his mouth. Sometimes he does chew things for a bit before deciding he doesn't want it. He no longer wants to sit in his high chair to eat and in fact doesn't want to sit at all when eating. He prefers to snack while walking around. This means we now have peanut butter and vegemite smeared all over the lounge, walls, TV and toys. Ah the joys of having a toddler!

Well I need to have a large cup of coffee while he's still sleeping, and get started again on this job application. I think I'm going to live to regret saying yes to the request for help on this.

Spaghetti Diaries entry #2

"nnnnyyyyuuuummm",

Anyone would think we rarely fed him. He was so impatient for his "tucker", if we didn't get the spoon in soon enough he would start making his "tucker" sounds of "nnnnnnnyyyyyyyuuuuuummmm, tucker, tucker"

The Spaghetti Diaries

Brother and sister get ready to clean up in the shower.

Maya was relatively clean until she volunteered to help clean Henry. He had it ALL over him and we almost needed to hire a bulldozer to clean up the mess on the floor!

2 bowls in the belly, 1 bowl on the floor and another in his lap.

Race Day Bag Boy

Yesterday was the first Tuesday in November. The day, once a year on the same first Tuesday of November, that Australia stops to watch a horse race, The Melbourne Cup. Our family friend, John, wanted to take me out to lunch at a local leagues club to celebrate my recent birthday. The decision to go there was determined by the small but significant fact that I have Henry and he would have to dine with us. This leagues club is usually very child friendly so it seemed an apt choice. I picked up John who recently had a car accident and has injured his leg so it's difficult for him to get around comfortably. Just getting in the car almost caused him to injure his other leg but we made it and after driving around the three car parks in the seering heat we finally found a park which had been vacated only seconds earlier. I unloaded Henry and all the other paraphenalia one must cart around with a small child and we headed off to enjoy the airconditioned comfort of the club.

We decided first to get a cool drink and select our favourites to win the race and place our bets. The place was crowded. A mix of ages out to enjoy a day of punting and champagne drinking. Henry was the only person under the age of 18 however. Since he hadn't had his morning sleep he was slightly grumpy but the lights, the noise and the brightly coloured chairs and carpets had him captivated and he was no longer happy to sit in his pram and just enjoy the sights. He had to explore and touch. I let him down for a moment knowing I would regret it. I was trying to study the race form guide, enjoy my gin and tonic and mark my bets on the betting cards. Henry wanted to crawl under tables, inspect young womens handbags (he seems to have a handbag fetish) and try to steal abandoned drinks from tables. Since John was hobbling with a walking stick he wasn't in any form to help out by chasing Henry around. I grabbed Henry, locked him in the pram again, shoved his dummy in his mouth and much to my surprise he promptly fell asleep.

This was our cue to quickly place our bets (I placed a small amount of money on all the favourites hoping I'd come out even eventually) finish our drinks and head down to the restaurant where they serve a buffet lunch. Henry stayed asleep while we ate several servings each (Yum!) and dessert. He woke just as I was taking my last mouthful. Great timing. He was famished when he woke and tried some potato wedges, BBQ chicken pizza and followed that up with some jelly and ice cream. The highlight of his lunch was the tractor spreading fertiliser on the football field directly in our view through the glass wall. He was in heaven as tractors, trucks and any large pieces of machinery are his favourites. He kept calling it a car though. 'Ooooohhh car" he called out and pointed. After eating he was of course ready to reek havoc again but the race was about to start and since we were dining in the outdoor patio area we had no view of the television. We decided to head back to the lounge where we had placed our bets earlier. We arrived just in time to see the history making race. The same horse, Makybe Diva, who had won the previous two years won again. This has never before happened in the history of the Melbourne Cup. There were cheers by everyone. Henry thought this was pretty exciting too and gave his own form of a cheer.

Serious punters never bet on the Melbourne Cup because it's too hard to pick a winner. My father, a serious punter, never did and always warned me against it. I never bet any other time of the year except on the Melbourne Cup. Obviously I still didn't listen to him in my adult years. I had placed a small bet on the winning horse not really believing she had a chance of winning it again. Fortunately for me though I almost made my money back. John had spent a substantial amount of money but won nothing. You win some you lose some. Cliche's always come in handy at a time like this.

It became obvious at this point that Henry wasn't going to rest quietly. He could see the lights and hear the sounds of the poker machines in the room next door. Children are not allowed in there and it was an effort to keep him away. I decided to bring him home hoping I'd be able to get him to enjoy another sleep but no. He was fired up and ready to destroy things at home. I was so incredibly full of food I could hardly move so I had to just let him loose. By the time Ben and Maya came home the house resembled a bomb site. I apologised to them both for my ineffienciency and explained that my stomach was still trying to digest lunch. Ben cooked a delicious dinner - prawn soup (as if I needed it), Maya played with Henry until he was tired enough to sleep and then we watched some television. Maya remembered her homework, as she does, late at night when we're all gearing up for sleep so tired and still digesting I helped her with that. Sleep came easily.

Now it's a new day. Henry woke at 4.30am and was ready to roll. There was no getting him back to sleep this morning, at least not until 7.30am. He's still sleeping soundly as I write this. As busy as he is he is so very adorable. Learning new words and throwing new tantrums everyday.

....two hours later......Just when I thought the day was going smoothly despite the 4.30am start Henry woke from his sleep and had taken off his nappy. Guess what was there, smothered all over the blankets and his hands and everywhere else???? you guessed it! Two showers before 9.30am! Sigh.....it's going to be a long day after all.