First it was the vacuuming....

Now the "helping" phase has turned a corner. It was bad enough when it was vacuum help but now it's dishes help. I was truly wishing this phase would never make it but it has. Once you start there's no going back. I am never going to be able to wash the dishes without help again!

Maya is off to Adelaide very early tomorrow morning and I don't know how she and Henry are going to live without each other for two weeks. More importantly how will I entertain Henry on my own.

Conversation with co-worker

Co-worker: I have a huge exam tomorrow and I haven't studied

Me: Oh, what are you studying.

Co-worker: Law

Me: What area will you go into?

Co-worker: I dunno. I don't even know what areas of law there are? I'm just doing it for something to do. I've got a job with a law firm and I start next week.

Me: What type of law do they specialise in?

Co-worker: Dunno.

Me: Are they friends of yours? Is it through someone you know?

Co-worker: No I applied for the job.

Me: Oh. Right. I guess you could do copyright law. That would be interesting in this day and age.

Co-worker: Yeah but what is that? I didn't even know the difference between a solicitor and a barrister until I googled it yesterday.

Thank God they're back

My mother and stepfather have been away for the last three weeks. They arrived home on Saturday evening after driving more than 1000 kilometres and the first thing they did was call to tell us they were home and they couldn't wait another minute to see Henry and could they come over now. Please! Never mind about the rest of us. They called everyday to get an update on how he was doing. They had driven to almost every town in Queensland but the scenery wasn't enough to take their mind off the most precious thing in their world. Henry. Henry was almost as bad as they were. I had to go to their house each day they were away and bring in their mail and check on things. We'd get there and Henry would be deep breathing in anticipation of them standing at the top of the stairs waiting for him. He'd say "Oooh Nanna, Tritchy" then go tramping through the house yelling "Where are you Nanna?". Of course they didn't show. They weren't there. Then he'd start whining. "Nanna, Tritchy. Not here" and almost start hyperventilating because they were no where to be seen.

When they rang Saturday night to say they were coming over Henry waited at the door, eyes wide, new trucks in hand and when they finally arrived I thought he was going to keel over with excitement. Mind you they were as bad as he was. My mother was almost teary and Tritchy was beside himself. Suddenly all was right with the world once again. Those that should be joined at the hip were together once again.

To Do Lists

Check out this.

A very cool idea. I'm afraid my list would read something like this and since it's so selfish she probably wouldn't want to know about it.

• Get rich
• Have a WHOLE weekend all to myself
• Build padded cage to house children
  
• Get rich
• Spend more than $20 on a pair of shoes
• Have lipoma removed from shoulder and have both shoulders replaced with Gwyneth Paltrow's shoulders
• Get rich
• Give some of my money (after I get rich) to disadvantaged members of society (this part is not selfish)
  
• Fly first class to USA
• Manicure, pedicure, facial, hairdo, massage
• Be listed in BRW most wealthy
• Buy a childcare centre (a sure way to get into the BRW most wealthy list but if I was already wealthy I could offer childcare free of charge - nice idea)
• And just to prove I'm not totally selfish - buy Maya a completely new wardrobe

To prove a point

Maya has been hounding me for a new pair of shoes. Just to prove a point she decided to try on a pair of Henry's. Apparently hers are in such a state of disrepair she needs to wear his.

Super Nanny

Ben and I have taken to watching Super Nanny on a regular basis. Mostly so we can feel sorry for those parents who seem to have the most horrid children on earth. Ours are perfect, or so we believed. If you were to judge only upon the adorably innocent photo above you would think so too. Since Henry is about to enter the terrible two's and seems to have started early, I've started to take a lot more notice of what the Nanny says.

We've implemented a naughty corner. Guess what? It actually works. At Henry's age of course it only works because it serves to take his mind off whatever it is he was having a hissy fit about rather than actually give him time out to think about his crime. As soon as we say "off to the naughty corner" he grins and takes himself there and sits down until we say he can leave. He even says "sorry" when his time is up.

The Nanny's formula works but it's a method taught by many parenting programs and is very similar to the program developed by Matt Sanders who designed the triple P Parenting Program. I attended a Matt Sanders program when Maya was around five years old and driving me insane. If you are prepared to be persistent and consistent it pays off. Not always but most times.

Last night I thought the Nanny had been presented with the worst situation ever. A single mum who seemed to have lost complete control of her three daughters. I felt like crying for her just watching those kids bring her to tears several times a day. I could feel the frustration welling inside me and my kid was asleep. I thought there was no way anyone was going to get these kids under control but it happened. Those children were like putty by the end of it....almost. No kid is ever going to be 100% well behaved and if they were one would have to wonder what kind of abuse they were being subjected to on a regular basis that kept them so pliable.

Flirt

Henry has become an outrageous flirt. Today at the supermarket he spied a very pretty little girl who seemed to be around his age, perhaps a little older and started coyly smiling at her, pointing at her and saying "hi". He was in the shopping trolley guarding the groceries for me while I was paying for them. I looked up at him to see him taking everything from the bags and showing them to her. She was very cutely standing there holding her dress and rocking back and forth just like they do in the movies. He would point, smile and shove the carton of sausages her way as an offering. When it was time to go he flashed her the most enormous grin and said "see you later, bye". She very shyly lifted her hand and waved back. Henry continued to watch her as we walked away.

This could be cute but it could also be the start of something that's going to cause me to have a stash of vodka in the cupboard at all times.

Transition Tremors

I'm not sure if I'm enjoying the transition from toddler to boy or what is sometimes known as the "terrible 2's". It seems that Henry has already learned that whingeing and whining gets attention from someone, anyone......who cares as long as he gets it. He's also throwing many more tantrums and outrightly refusing to do anything he's asked to do. He just shakes his head and says "nope" and runs off.


Maya and I took him to the park today. The park that has all this great new "small child" friendly play equipment. Henry's excitement lasted for all of about three seconds before he decided he wanted to run far far away from us. He had nowhere in particular in mind. It seemed his sole purpose was to have us chase after him just to prove he was able to manipulate us into doing whatever he wants us to do. We eventually got him back to the play equipment and he promptly spied some young boy sliding his matchbox cars down the slippery slide. Henry obviously thought it a great opportunity to add to his car collection and ran over and grabbed one just as it hit the dirt. The poor kid stood there looking at Henry like he wasn't sure whether to just beat him over the head and grab his car back or to wait politely until someone came. I tried to encourage Henry to give the car back but he just kept saying "nope". I had to use force to pry it from him. This elicited an almightly scream and enough tears to end the drought.

Some people don't believe me when I tell them that Henry is capable of such bad behaviour. My mother especially chooses to block her ears when I tell her such things. In her eyes he could do no wrong. EVER. To her he's perfect. To her he's angelic and beautiful and charming and smart. I guess I need to get her to take him to the park and make him give back some other kids' matchbox car.

Considering a new future

I've been throwing around a few options for my future. Study....work...study (half an option if I win lotto)...work....stay at home mum (not really an option because no one pays you to do this).

While searching online for a job this is what Henry did to the loungeroom floor...

If I was being paid cleaner/child carer rates I might not be so upset by this daily rearrangement of my living space.

Supernanny would say I should have been paying attention to him and not jobhunting. That's easy to say when you're getting paid Hollywood rates.

Goodnight Trucks

Just the other evening Henry was sitting (remarkably) very quietly playing with his trucks. He was saying "night night trucks, go sleep" and when we looked down to see how he was tucking them in this is what we saw.
All his trucks turned upside down. That is apparently how a truck should sleep. Last night he did this again with all his trucks and then went and got his papillow (pillow) and blankie (blanket) and covered them ever so gently and then lay right down on top of them.

Rabbit Proof Fence

My sister found this photo of herself, my brother and me with our father when we were obviously very young. When I showed it to Maya she said we look like kids from the movie Rabbit Proof Fence.

I have no idea what she means.

When a Battery Hen can't produce a decent egg

Some of you know that out of desperation I've had to take on some work that produces a desire to cluck like a hen. This is work I did for years, years ago. Years ago it suited me and meant I could be a little more flexibe. After I left it though I made a promise to myself never to do it again. Sometimes though promises have to be broken. When there's baby chickens to feed and there's no good free range grazing ground then mother hen must go to the factory. The factory has walls lined with cubicles and telephones and computers and mother hen must take her seat in one of these cubicles and don the headset and dial random telephone numbers and cluck politely while she requests that people interrupt their meal time to answer some ridiculous questions about toilet paper. This kind of mass egg production pays reasonably well but is about as exciting as a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond.

The hens are taken from their cubicle occasionally to be given a statistical run down of their egg production during that shift. These little meetings with the head rooster are supposedly used to provide feedback and offer support and advice on how you can produce more eggs. The client pays a lot of money for the egg production apparently and if you produce less than ten eggs an hour you might need to be retrained on how to lay more productively.

I might not be so cynical about my new position as mass egg producer if I felt that my previous skills in egg production hadn't been overlooked. But alas they were. I have had to endure endless hours of unpaid training for a job I can do with my hands tied behind my back. I've been the head rooster who gives the statistical run downs but that apparently counts for nothing. I'm just hoping that having to mass produce is only a temporary assignment. At least battery hens are allowed to have water at their desk.

Happy Mothers Day

We may wake this morning feeling like it's just another day and in many ways it is. We'll wake to the sounds of our children and maybe grumble a little because they've woken so early and all you wanted to do on this, your morning, was sleep in a little longer. But when they wake and say "cuddle mummy, give a kiss" and land a big sloppy sucker on your cheek you'll soon forgive them. You'll realise that all the hard work you've put in has been worth every second. They bring you breakfast in bed and a handmade card and your heart melts.

When they feel you've had enough rest, usually after ten minutes, they'll start. "Mummy, breakfast, podge". "Mum can you help me clean my room". "Mummy, poop!", "Mum, will you take me to the shops? I really need a new dress and a new pair of pyjamas and a new pencil case and a new pair of shoes.......". "Mummy, chocolate pleease". "Muuuum, have you washed my jeans?" "Mummy read it book".
You'll look at the clock and realise it's not even yet 6am. You've thought about taking the day off work just to be at home with them but you're thinking that going to work is really the only way you're going to get any rest. Just as you're thinking this they come in and beg you to stay home with them because it's Mothers Day. Even though you've just started at a new (or returned to a crap job you did years ago) you give in and say "Ok". You call your employer and leave a message saying you won't be in because you're throat has closed over. Your kids breathe a sigh of relief. You look at them and think you've done the right thing. Just as you're starting to again revel in the beauty of motherhood one of them spills their milk all over the carpet. The other rips all the toilet paper from the toilet roll just for fun.

Your employer calls you back and tells you how important it is that you be at work because you haven't finished your training even though you've done the same kind of work for 12 years. She says they have a lot to teach you still. She suggests you take a soother. She says you also need a medical certificate for a closed over throat. You smile and say ok but you really just want to stuff a rag in her mouth so you no longer have to listen to her. The guilt you feel about not showing up for work eats you alive all day. Then your mother sends you an email . Something about pigeons being there for their babies. Something about how mothers are the ones the children look to for their comfort and to be there when they come home from school and how it's mother's who teach their children values like honesty, integrity and virtue.

How is taking a day off work teaching them honesty, integrity and virtue?

I justify it like this: No one should have to work like a battery hen. Especially on mothers day.

Farewell

Yesterday we farewelled Grandpa. Right about now he should be arriving home and we hope he makes it safely. It was a wonderful opportunity for us all to spend some time together, getting to know each other. Henry took to him like a duck to water and will miss his morning "podge" (porridge) sessions he so lovingly shared with Grandpa. As soon as we win lotto we'll be heading to the States so the rest of Henry's overseas family can get to know him too.

Any podge?

When podge is more than just a breakfast food......

Kittycat ride from New Farm park

.....and the opportunity to act like a tourist comes to an end.

City Botanic Gardens

Interesting note: the Mangroves that grow along the river here only arrived during the 1974 floods and were washed upstream with the rising flood waters.

Banks Street Reserve

Where the city embraces the bush

Burleigh Heads, Greenmount, Coolangatta

It's such a shame that these beautiful beaches have to be the focal point of the overcrowded, overgrown, and otherwise ugly Gold Coast. If it weren't for the beaches and hinterland I would NEVER go there. Driving there is a nightmare and without the beach the Gold Coast would just be a concrete jungle.

Ipswich Railway Workshop Museum

This place is way cool. Not only because it has all kinds of trains and is steeped in history but because it is the coolest interactive museum I've ever been to.

Southbank

Mt Glorious

Bellbird Grove

The kookaburra that ate the ham right out of the sandwich which was in the hand of grandpa Richard

Bellbird Grove lies north west of Brisbane on the way to Mt Glorious. It's a beautiful, serenely quiet spot. I've often driven by the sign but never made the turn to take a look. There's a 1.5 klm walk through the bush which has been designated with input from aboriginal groups. The bark huts are of course not original but serve as a reminder for all those who walked there before us.

the life of an overfed kangaroo