Happy Birthday to me!

Happy Birthday to me.
Happy Birthday to me.
Happy Birthday dear fantastic, hardworking, dedicated, loving Mama.
Happy Birthday to me.

Today is my birthday! I'm almost at the end of a long week of them. It starts with my sister who had a birthday on Wed and then my other sister had a birthday on Thursday and then my niece had a birthday on Friday and then my mother had a birthday yesterday and then I am having one today and then my sister in law is having one tomorrow and my brother in law is having one on Monday.

Last night my husband and daughter cooked up a most delicious three course meal in celebration. I did nothing. They shopped, they prepared, they waited on us and they cleaned up. The food and service was fantastic and possibly better than we would have had at a restaurant. This morning I have had three cups of tea in bed and been presented with a box of Lindt Chocolates and a gift I've been waiting a long time for - a quality non stick fry pan. I know that's not very romantic but you have no idea how much I actually wanted one. I go to the shops and I lovingly touch them and knock them with my knuckles and turn them over and read about the quantanium coating.

Later I'm being taken shopping by a friend to buy a pair of these.

Happy Birthday Nana

Dear Nana
Mum told me I have to write a letter to you to wish you happy birthday. Even if she didn't tell me to I still would have done it but you wouldn't be able to understand my writing. Mum taught me how to draw trucks but she didn't tell me how to draw Nana. Anyway I think you are the best Nana in the world. I really like it when you bring Richie to see me and he has a truck stuffed down his shirt. I like it too when you give me ice cream and don't tell Mum about it. Sometimes mum is a right pain because she won't let me have stuff that makes me crazy. I know you think it's funny when I say I have a hang nail and need the clippers but it's not funny for me because those things bother me for hours. Sometimes it bothers me so much I have to throw a tantrum and then Mum sends me to the naughty corner. Because I'm really cute Mum doesn't make me stay there for the whole time. All I have to do is say "sorry Mama", smile and give her a kiss and a hug and she lets me get out.

When I come over next can you ask Richie if he'll take me to see the fire trucks again because when he takes me to see the fire trucks he sometimes takes me to the shop and buys me a lolly pop too. Hey, you know how Nana's are supposed to buy kids stuff all the time? Well I was wondering if you could buy me that really big tonka truck that mum won't buy. She says I have enough. I've only got 62 cars and 7 trucks but I could always do with some more.

Mum said I have to go to sleep now for a while because we have to go and see you later and make you eat some cake or something. Sissy's trying to suck up to you and get you to love her more by cooking you a dinner tonight with prawns in it. She's too big to sit on your lap and plus she's not really into trucks and won't read the books to me all day like you do.

I love you Nana.

From Henry

xoxoxox

Happy Birthday

Today is my niece's birthday. We called her to wish her a great day and after listing off all her presents to me this is the conversation we had

Me: You sure got a lot of presents. I never get that many presents on my birthday.

Her: I know. I got a lot. Mum and Dad never get many either.

Me: Yeah, maybe Mum and Dad and me need to do something about that.

Her: Yeah, you should tell the government.

Does this give us some indication of how our children view the world? That the government should solve ALL our problems? That they should hold an official inquiry into Why Parents Are Not Getting Enough Birthday Presents.

Five is not a number

We've been teaching Henry to count for some time now and since he was one he's been able to count to six but he will never ever say five or any other number which includes five. Why this is we don't know. We practice counting when we walk down the stairs, we count the cars in the car part, we count the number of mosquitoes buzzing around our heads, we count the leaves on the trees, we count the number of sultanas mashed into the carpet, we count number of times he asks me to read the truck book each day and even though we deliberately say FIVE really loudly each time we get to it he won't ever repeat it.

We took a video of him just the other night counting the placemats he had placed on the floor; "one, two, free, four, six, leven, twelve, fourteen, sixteen...(clap, clap, clap), yay that was great everybody". No five, we tried to trick him into it, we tried to bribe him to say five but he just won't say it. The chinese believe that four is an unlucky number and won't use any combination of it in anything. Perhaps Henry believes the same thing about the number five and knows something we don't.

Surprise!

Henry can't believe his sister would really pull a face like that.

Daycare? I don't think so.

Last night I received a phone call from an inside source at the daycare centre Henry attends. She wanted to tell me of an incident that she wasn't supposed to tell me about but felt she could not keep to herself. I was prepared for her to tell me Henry had beat some child up and had been forced to hang out in "timeout" or something. What she told me was far, far worse; Just this week Henry was moved up to the pre-kindy group. He managed to skip the Toddler B group he normally would have had to go to before heading into pre-kindy because he's just too smart (do I brag?). On Thursday Henry had been left alone, unsupervised for 15 minutes in the playground because they "forgot" him. He was only rescued because another carer saw him there on his own through the window from her room. No one mentioned this little incident to me when I collected him but I wondered why all the staff were being overly nice to me.

Apparently the staff in question have been raked over the coals for their actions but at this stage I know no more than that. By law they have to mention it to me so it remains to see if they do. My inside source is scared she'll lose her job if it's found out she mentioned this incident to me before it was officially reported to me so I'm kind of in a bind. I will give them one week to tell me of this incident before I blow my top.

I am grateful Henry has no injuries but whether he fell from any of the play equipment I don't know. I am also grateful that he was unable to escape onto the road or the car park or that some passerby hadn't abducted him.

I feel like a terrible mother for even having him in daycare but at the same time I pay them good money to TAKE CARE of my child. Why they didn't do a headcount or how they didn't see him is beyond me and I cannot comprehend how this may have happened. It had rained that afternoon and obviously he'd been caught out in it because his hat was soaking wet and his clothes had been changed. I don't know what happened to his wet clothes because they didn't come home with me.

What to do now?

The Hair and the Lollypop

When you know a hairdresser who has also just become a new grandma and desperate to show off this beautiful baby, you take advantage of the visit. You tell her to whip out her scissors while she's here and get cutting. While she's at it I'll take care of that baby-smelling bundle of yumminess.

Meet Charlotte Claire who is obviously the grandchild of a hairdresser as she was born with blonded foils and a whispy fringe.

Recreating the peak hour gridlock

Those of you who live here in Brisbane will already know about the heavy traffic problems caused the crack in the riverside express overpass. Fortunately I haven't yet been stuck in it or really noticed any difficulty in getting where I need to go. Henry's trucks and cars however experience this every afternoon at peak hour, otherwise known as "the hours of hell" in our home.

All good things must come to an end

Our beloved volvo needs to go to a retirement home. It still has a very strong heartbeat but it's tired. It's losing its skin and fingernails and limbs and hair slowly but surely. There's no such thing as car medicare and it's not worth the repair costs.

I love driving that thing. I feel as though I could play skittles with lamposts and not sustain a scratch. It's like a tank with a bullbar on the front. We can only hope someone with a like affection for volvos wants to part with some cash in return for its better parts. It still drives and drives beautifully but it's falling apart. The sheepskin seat covers are about the only thing still in one piece and even they've seen better days.

I still consider myself lucky to have spent less on all the cars I've owned than a new car would ever cost me. I drove my last car until it just wouldn't go anymore. It got donated to someone who wanted the brand new radiator and the brand new tyres. The rest got scrapped. It was worthless in monetary terms but it had been a good car to me and had served me well.

I find it hard to believe our fully functioning volvo is worth less than a toasted cheese and vegemite sandwich. May it rest in peace...or may Patrick bulldoze a new dam in the orchard patch with it.

Name dropping

This talented musician/songwriter happens to be married to my sister. He's also a very talented youth worker and does amazing things with troubled young people.

He also happens to be Dad to these two gorgeous children. Well he's not the father of the aunt who is showing children how she can fit her butt onto the seat of playequipment designed for babies.

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no one's there

Maya, the sister who loves her brother but wishes she had a sister, gave Henry a pink handbag full of pink paraphenalia, including this pink phone, to play with.

As soon as he realised no one was on the other end he hurled into the toybox that holds all his manly type trucks.

The world according to Maya

Maya reckons I've had only two great ideas in my life:

1. Having her
2. Coming up with the idea of opening a wedding planner shop on the Sims Open For Business.

I always thought buying Shower Sparkle was a good idea too but apparently I'm wrong. That stuff is the business. My shower has never been so sparkling.

Flickr Photos

For the Mama's, Papa's, Aunts and Uncles and those just wanting to see more photos click here

Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting

Henry was particularly frustrating yesterday. He missed his midday snooze and without his sleep he tends to act as though I've fed him nothing but red cordial and sugar coated chocolate.

Bravely, or stupidly, I'm not sure which, I took Henry and the girls to the shops because there were some things I needed and I couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. I was there only 2 minutes when I decided it was time to leave. It's school holidays and there were sales on and those two things combined mean there will be a myriad of screaming kids, teenagers and adults all pushing people out of the way because they want to get to the bargains first. I consider it like going to a freak show except I can't stand to hang around long enough to watch it. There is nothing I need desperately enough in the world to want to endure that. My sister was with us and she has no kids. She has all the time in the world to stand and ponder over her purchases and calculate in her head the discount and compare colours and match underwear to shoes etc. Me, I just like to grab and run. Shopping is not my favourite pastime.

After two minutes I shouted across the throng of people looming over the discount table. "I have to go. I'm starting to hyperventilate. I think I'm going to need surgery if I stay here a moment longer".

Of course Henry had spotted some truck related stuff on our way past the toy aisle and started to scream the scream of a child whose mother had walked by that particular aisle without stopping. When I walked out of that shop I had my fingers on my phone ready to call Triple O and ask for an emergency ambulance to take me to the mental hospital.

Henry fell into a deep sleep in the car but the few minutes it took us to get home was apparently all the sleep he needed. When we got home it was like his energy levels had been refuelled with premium grade gas.

He discovered Maya's swimming goggles and proceeded to spend the next few hours putting them on his head and attempting to put them in his pockets "like mummy does".

My husband was sick, my kids were feral and my legs were hairy because there was no time to shave/wax/singe/pluck them. When my friend called to tell me his mother was having an emotional crisis and asked me could I go and talk to her and share a bottle of wine I said yes in less than a nanosecond.

Indifference is the key

Henry has a new love interest. Since we've had cousin Riley with us the past week Henry has taken to her. She's different to his sister in that she pretty much just leaves him alone and ignores him. This proves the theory that playing hard to get gets what you what you want. This morning he went right up to her and lay on her lap and said "give Ri cuddles".

The Day the Digger Came to Town

This is the concentrated look he held fast for the whole 20 minutes we were watching it.

Yesterday afternoon we heard the rumble of something large making its way down our normally very quiet street. Henry's ears pricked up and he immediately knew it was a BIG TWUCK. We took him to the window and he was almost beside himself with excitement. Two doors down our neighbours have subdivided their block and sold off a corner of land which measure about 2m x 2 m square for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Enough to build a garage sized home on. Bit I digress... the digger was headed that way. We grabbed our shoes and followed it. Henry was speechless. He could not believe his luck. Right here in his own street was a digger being driven off a big truck.