Scenes from another place

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How could one not be happy to live here? Newcastle has some of the most spectacular coastline I've ever seen. They've really made the most of it. Everyone who lives there seems to have a deep respect for the natural beauty they're fortunate enough to be able to see each and every day. There are no buildings on the shorefront aside from some old surf lifesaving clubs. This place is so user friendly and designed so that everyone can make the most of it. Everything is easy to access, kept in pristine condition and just so breathtakingly beautiful. We were lucky to hit some beautiful early spring weather and I even managed to take a swim although it was so cold it made my head numb.

Newcastle

I'm moving here to live. For the rest of my life. Maybe.

Woe is me...

There's no point having this blog unless I can use it to extract some sympathy of my own. I am sick. Never before have I spent so much money on snot medications and absorption devices. First Henry got an ear infection and has had a constant nose drip since winter started, then Maya got it minus the ear infection, then I got a sinus infection and now on top of it I have the worst head cold EVER. I went off the pharmacy to beg for something to dry it all up but she just said "It's better to just ride it out because anything I give you will just prolong it". Obviously she doesn't have kids at home who expect her to read truck books all day long and play cars.

Henry couldn't care less if I'm sick but Maya nursed me yesterday and even sent me to bed while she took care of Henry. That's the type of daughter all mothers should have. Ben feels bad for me but what can he do? He still needs to go to work to earn the money I need to give to the pharmacy.

The Celebration Continues.

Yesterday we had a small family gathering to celebrate Henry's birthday. The weather was perfect. The cake was, with a little help from my friends at White Wings, perfect. I did the baking and Ben did the decorating. Henry played and snatched back anything any other small child dared to touch of his.

A much appreciated gift from Aunt Sharyn and Uncle Brett

By now he's worked out that looking cute and turning two gets you some much deserved attention.

The race track that my parents bought for him. They thought it would be a good idea to take him to the toy shop and choose his own gift. Big mistake!

White Wings and me. A perfect combination!

Happy Birthday Two

The sand pit he's not sure he likes yet

Checking out the stash

It's all too much!

Happy Birthday Henry

The Tonka construction machines that ganpa sent

Percy and James from Grandma Mary

The Tonka Construction machines

A Thomas book from Grandma Mary

Henry slept in this morning until 7.45am. We were all awake very early expecting him to be jumping out of bed at 6am like he usually does. When he did wake he didn't want to get out of bed but just lay there under the covers. We finally coaxed him out and set about dumping gifts on his lap. Gandpa and Grandma had each sent him a parcel from the US stacked full of wonderful goodies. He just wasn't sure which thing he wanted the most. He was very quiet and methodical in his approach to them.

We then took him to the sandpit we put outside for him hoping he'd like to play with his new trucks in it but he wasn't as excited as we thought. He hated the fact that the sand made them dirty and we had to wash them. He doesn't like the sand and gets upset if he gets it on his hands. I have to teach him to get dirty!

Happy Birthday Mama and Dadda

It's Henry's birthday tomorrow. That means that at this exact time last year I was in a hospital room in pain. Extreme amounts of pain. More pain than I had been when I was in labour with Maya. My waters had not yet broken but the contractions were thick and fast. My patient midwife was with us checking all my vitals, making sure Henry was still coping well and generally trying to keep us calm.

There's an expectation and anticipation associated with birth that is not matched by any other experience in life. That feeling of knowing that soon you will bring a new life into the world, if the pain doesn't kill you, is way better than the most exhilarating ride at the Ekka. You grit your teeth and hope that it's not going to take longer than 5 minutes. That your baby will effortlessly make its way into the world without you having to exert yourself. You imagine it as being just like in the movies; you might grunt and scream and curse and punch your husband in the privates but with just a few small pushes you've managed to create a family. Everyone cries, the doctor hugs you, your husband kisses your forehead and says "thank you" and the room is instantly filled with scented bouquets.

Henry was born on the Ekka holiday two years ago. We had no doctor, no scented bouquets and I did not kick my husband in the privates. Despite the long, intense and very painful labour we had a very emotional experience. Giving birth is sometimes very cliched but all those cliches are based on fact. To see the child you've spent nine months growing for the first time is like nothing else on this earth. Introducing yourself to him as his parents is a little like a job application as a top ranking official only you know it's a lifelong commitment and comes without the pay cheque.

Here we are two years later. We have two precious children who love to irritate each other and us but we wouldn't trade that for all the Hershey bars in the world.

The Town with no water

My flat leaf parsely has never looked this good!

...nor my camelias

For a city with water in short supply and very strict water restrictions as a result, Toowoomba can still produce flowers and fruit in abundance. I was quite surprised to see how green and lush it is despite the fact that no one has been able to water their plants with anything more than a 10 litre bucket for a year or more now. This city is really very pretty and has the most beautiful buildings and homes.

I wasn't there as a tourist though I was there to celebrate my sisters' birthday. We had a lovely time despite Maya suffering from fever for most of the time we were there. We had dinner and a shared a few glasses of wine and tall tales with some friends, ate rich Tasmanian cheeses, pate, chocolate and strawberries. We continued that on Sunday with a trip to the flea market to pick up some farm fresh produce and then topped that with lunch at an Italian restuarant where the meals are so huge you don't need to eat for three days after.

Monster Truck Madness

Henry has a new monster truck. Just a small one, a little bigger than matchbox size but he's in love with it. Not just happy to have it but I believe he may seriously attached and he'd like to believe it's human. We got it while grocery shopping today. We have a choice of two supermarkets here which are very close to each other and only one of them sells matchbox cars. He knows which supermarket has them, which aisle they are in and exactly where in that aisle they are located. He spends several minutes looking over the display and then we hold several out for him to choose from but he can only have one. He inspects each and every one of them. The rejects get shoved back towards the rack. He's very polite about this and says "put it back". Today he chose the monster truck. This afternoon after he got it home he played with it very gently and drove it over everything he could drive it over and then he came rushing out to the kitchen and got a cup from the cupboard, the apple juice from the fridge and asked me to pour a drink for the monster truck.

I poured just a little in the cup and he poked the truck in there and made some slurping noises. Then I heard him say "Want some tucker?". I wondered what he might find to feed it. What do monster trucks like to eat after all. Apparenty it's dried apricots.

First there were four

My sister is having a birthday on Monday. My family is supposed to be joining her in celebration this weekend but they're all dropping like flies from the dreaded lurgy and other complaints. All four of us were meant to drive the 120 kilometres to her home, the adults would drink while the children played but now it's down to just me. I'll have to drink alone without the children. Sad! Ben's back has kept him hobbled over and walking like a crab. Henry has inflamed ears, Maya has what appears to be tonsilitis and I have a sinus infection. Yesterday Henry, Maya and I went off to the doctor and a million dollars later came home with a stash of presciption medications to treat the long list of ailments.

If I were ever really sick though I'd have to book into a holiday resort, ALONE, to recover.

Little Red Tractor.

Maya insisted on taking Henry's red tractor to the park yesterday so she could ride it down the slopes like a real grown up. Henry had his own little bike but got very frustrated that it took him forever to get up the hill before he could even attempt to go down it. He decided it was simply too much and just got off and walked away.

The age difference makes no difference to the noise levels

After a particularly frustrating day at home with Henry who now needs to be entertained every waking minute I tried to cook dinner. Trying to cook while a two year old hovers around your feet demanding ice cream is difficult enough but when you add a 13 year old, some pots and pans and some things to bang those pots and pans with you just get a headache strong enough to turn dinner into charcoal.

El Rancho Relaxo

......and then she apologises. Tells me I really am the best mother in the world, promply followed by "Hey mum, you know how I really, really wanted that shirt, well if I were to ........"

Then I made the phone call to El Rancho Relaxo.......

If only there was a mathematical formula for telling you how long it would be before they hate you.

Having two children at both ends of the scale gives me a headache. I have a two year old who still thinks I am the centre of his universe and a teenager who once thought I was the centre of her universe but now would rather I didn't speak for fear of embarrassing her. It's hard, as a parent, to accept that your children no longer view you as anything other than an open wallet. That adorable little girl I once spent hours playing Barbie with now thinks I know nothing, have terrible dress sense, a bad hairstyle and say the most ridiculous things. This doesn't stop her from asking me to buy her things several times a day, each and every day.

Just the other day she feigned some terrible illness and came home from school early. Her terrible illness didn't stop her from browsing online stores and ebay and asking me to buy all those things she "can't possibly live without" or "has been desperately wanting like, forever". I told her if she didn't want to hear the word "no" then she simply shouldn't ask. Of course that was like telling her I was having the internet access cancelled until further notice. She stormed off screaming something about me never buying her anything despite the fact that she's managed to wrangle a whole new wardrobe out of me, her father and her aunt this winter. More than anyone else in this house has had for years.

The next morning she deliberately slept in late in the hope I may believe she wasn't feeling so well. I banged on her bedroom door and made her get up. She came upstairs trying very hard to look ill and asked me if she could just have the morning off to rest before her math exam at midday as she felt so bad. The penny dropped immediately. A math exam! That's what the illness was all about. I sat very quiet for a few minutes to let the tension build and let her believe that I may seriously be considering allowing her to stay home and rest. Then I let her down with the sad news. "No". She stomped off, slamming doors as she went. Then she came back, crying and said "You know mum, I never wanted to say this but I hate you right now".

Then I looked at Henry who was sitting on my lap reading his truck book. He looked at me with love, devotion and affection. I'm going to have to treasure these next few years because soon enough it will be him telling me he hates me because I won't buy him a fully functioning bulldozer.

I hate to brag....

But this kid is just too cute. This is his first "official" day care photo.

If he could sleep with them he would

BULLBEELA

Why it's so hard to get cranky

One of the hardest things about being a parent is having to discipline your child. A natural defence mechanism built into children is their ability to look so innocent and downright cute. They don't need the fight or flight instincts, they just need to look like they'd never do anything wrong.

Mustard is the new Vegemite

This is Henry's new favourite spread. A strange thing but I guess he just loves that tangy flavour. He wants it poured on his fingers, spread on his toast and slathered on his sandwiches. Maybe it's just the American in him.

Welcome to The World

Welcome to the world little Joseph Paul. Born July 10 at 1.40am in Traverse City, Michigan, USA to Josh and Lisa. The family just got bigger by one.

The New Carpark

This bucket has become the new favourite place to "park" the cars.

Suddenly there was silence

It's 5.15pm and he couldn't stay awake a moment longer. After daycare he asked for his pyjamas, blankie and papillow then he got himself comfortable in front of Thomas the Tank Engine and promptly fell asleep.

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.