Holiday entertainment

My sister, pictured here is the Aunt that every kid should have. She is amazing and loves to entertain them by attempting to show them how she can sit on a swing designed for the butt of a baby.
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See. Food usually works.

Maya and Riley trying to outdo each other and see who can injure themselves first by flying right over the bar.

It's school holidays and that means many children requiring many hours of entertainment. We've had nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles hanging around for days which is all very well and fun until they start to argue with each other. That's when you need to slap them and get them out of the house. Of course I don't really slap them but I do offer food in the hope that it will make all the whining go away. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. Henry's loved having them around and this morning when he woke and the house was quiet and there were no spare children he seemed to be lost. He's so tired from the constant playing though that he took himself back to bed at 10am this morning to sleep it off.

The Talented Few

Many people are fortunate enough to know someone who is extremely talented. I am one of those fortunate people. I've known Melissa J Evans since high school and she is one very talented woman.

Last night she played at a local cafe near us and so we trotted off down to see her. She sang a few songs I hadn't heard before including one about her experience in San Francisco when she toured the states. Her music style is very unique but if I had to describe her so you may understand how she sounds I could liken her to the Indigo Girls meets Tracy Chapman perhaps but even that isn't right. The lyrics to her songs have the ability to touch your soul and she sings about all things we experience in life but generally tend to push away because it's all too hard to think about.

She does have very good taste in pizza too. I fortuitously arrived just as they were finishing stuffing themselves on the pizza they had been given free of charge by the cafe. There were two pieces left that had my name all over them. Most people know I can't stand to see food go to waste so I felt it was my duty to finish them off. I had to. They would only have been thrown away otherwise.

That's her in the orange with her partner Sue and my brother Brett. He's a pretty talented songwriter/musician too.

If you're interested you can hear Melissa here or here.

Hit and Run

Since seeing Joe Camilleri playing at the Countdown Spectacular the other night my husband has become obsessed with the song he was famous for in about 1978 when he played with Jo Jo Zep and the Falcons - Hit and Run. I have heard that song more times in the last week than I have at any other time in my life. When he gets up in the morning he plays it. When he comes home from work he plays it. Before he goes to bed he plays it. He even tries to dance like Joe Camilleri did in his countdown filmclip.

When I remarked that he may soon be sick of it he replied " No I won't. It's like sushi or KFC, you just don't get sick of it".

I may live through this current obsession but I'm not sure I'll ever get the image of him attempting to dance just like Joe Camilleri does out of my head, because just like Joe Camilleri my husband dances so infrequently that it's kind of like watching someone pluck the hairs on their legs with a pair of tweezers that don't quite meet when pinched together. Painful and frustrating.

Noice hairstyle

When left alone this is what a sister will do to a brother because she doesn't have a sister

If the bank sank who would care.

Now is the time to search for an alternative for stashing away money that doesn't involve ever having to deal with a bank or any bank related product.

Ben and I recently had our tax done and surprisingly we got a return. I wasn't expecting this as I was sure I had received more than I was entitled to from centrelink throughout the year and would have to pay them back. We received a reserve bank cheque. As you all know reserve bank cheques should never be subjected to clearance times but some banks will tell you they have the right to do so. They only do this because they make millions of dollars from cheques. They use your money to make themselves more. Maybe they don't think the government has enough money in their coffers and the cheque just might not clear.

Ben took his cheque and deposited it through Australia Post. Australia Post doesn't trust the government and his reserve bank cheque is subject to five WORKING days clearance. I rang my bank only to be told that they have no control over it once it's been deposited through Australia Post. What a load of crap! We don't need access to the money straight away but I am furious that we have to wait for clearance on a RESERVE BANK CHEQUE just on principle. The guy at my bank told me that each bank branch reserves the right to subject a RESERVE BANK cheque to clearance at their own discretion. Now I know he's not personally responble for this outrage but I let him have it and told him that no bank has the right to make a reserve bank cheque subject to clearance. Of course he didn't really care he's just there to answer the questions.

Once Maya's father sent her a sum of money via Australia Post money order and I couldn't cash it without her ID even though she was only 9 at the time. I had to put it in her bank account and believe it or not it was subject to three working days clearance. I argued with the teller that it was as good as cash as it had been paid for with cash at the other end. No, she said, it's not. I asked her if she thought Australia Post might not have enough money to cover the $100 it was worth and she got very upset with me.

I am sick of the red tape and bureaucracy. I think I'm going to apply for a job at a bank.

Mum Jeans

Sometimes I feel like these are all I'm good for.

I found a link to this while reading the blog of another mother who suffers from the spread women get after they've given birth.

Patience is no virtue

I've tried to be patient. I really have. I've counted to ten, sometimes even to 100. I've taken deep breaths. I've even walked away but being the mother of a two year old requires more than patience. It requires a back brace, valium, padded rooms, massage therapy, pain killers and pyschiatric care.

Next week I'm removing all the furniture from the house, including the refrigerator and having the walls lined with padding so that my child, who bounces off the walls even without the help of sugar can remain uninjured until he's old enough to start playing football.

Countdown Spectacular

Countdown was THE Australian rock music bible of my youth. Well, the televised rock music bible. At 6pm every Sunday night from 1974 to 1987 we tuned into the ABC to watch gyrating, satin clad bands such as Hush, Sherbet, Misex, Skyhooks just to name a few, strut their stuff on the Coundown stage. We lived for that hour of television. It clashed with the newshour on the other channel (we only had two) and my parents called it 'rubbish' but mostly they would relent and try to get their news fix some other way. Without Countdown many Australian bands and some internationals would never have gone further than their back yard garages.

Last night Ben and I, along with my sister went to the Countdown Spectacular. What a spectacular it was. I was warned by Maya before we even left not to dance because dancing at my age was "just embarrassing". Dancing proved almost impossible anyway because it was held at the Boondall Entertainment Centre which can hold many thousands of people and it's all sit down. No standing. My sister and I attempted to stand at our seats at one point but were quickly poked in the back by those behind us. I was really quite amazed at how conservative and quiet the crowd were. It was impossible not to be excited and enthusiastic as the performance was incredibly vibrant. Many couldn't even be bothered clapping. There were of course the odd couple of people who couldn't help themselves and they went wild occasionally screaming at the top of their lungs.

It's hard to pinpoint a favourite of the evening but I have to say Hush were pretty spectacular. They're all looking decidedly middle aged now but they still knew how to entertain the crowd. They were dressed as they were in the seventies, waving fire breathing guitars. My oldest sister went to one of their concerts when she was about 10 years old and Les Gock, leading guitarist, managed to set himelf on fire and had to get carted off to the Maryborough Base Hospital where he spent the night.

Frontmen for many of the most popular bands of that era are dead now; Mark Hunter from Dragon, Bon Scott from ACDC, Shirley Strachan from Skyhooks, Michael Hutchence from INXS, and Ted Mulry from the Ted Mulry Gang. Some from lifestyle related illnesses and others from sheer bad luck. There was of course a tribute to them all.

It was a last minute decision for us to go as we had access to eleventh hour drastically reduced tickets. I'm glad we did because I had a really kick-ass time.

We could also have gone to New Zealand in the same amount of time.

Two male cousins enjoying their weetbix

A three hour car trip with a toddler should be introduced as a test to every person who has ever considered becoming a parent.

A desperate desire to get away from the city for even just a few hours resulted in us making the decision to drive for three hours to Maryborough, home of Posie the Cow. Listening to the protestations of a toddler who's limbs have been rendered immoveable by the very tight carseat restraints for three hours is akin to having your head taped to a stereo speaker which is belting out a bad recording of Cindy Lauper's True Colours. Very distracting if you happen to be the driver.

The trip was worth it because I got to see my children covered in mud. That's when you know they've had fun.

My niece and nephew are competing this weekend in the Maryborough Technology Challenge. They'll be competing, as they did last year, in the Human Powered Vehicle Race. This is a challenge my brother in law, who is somewhat of a science nerd, happens to be very passionate about. So much so that he can't talk about anything else. That's him below in the blue shirt with the HPV he has spent months designing and building. This isn't the one he wanted to build though and was talked down on his plans by the parents of other competing students. His design was somewhat futuristic but did involve many carefully formulated equations on how to get the most speed with the least amount of effort. If I was more science oriented and knew about quantum physics and stuff I'd be able to tell you what it was he told me but I just drifted off as soon as he said the word velocity...



Henry's complaints were subdued for just a few moments on the return trip by this massive piece of machinery pictured below. Unfortunately we had to try to get him back into the car and no amount of chocolate coated bribery was going to help. We just had to use sheer force.

The Sweetness of young love

Angelique and Henry

When he kisses her goodbye he does it ever so gently and aims his lips, points them towards her and follows her head until he can plant one right where she spoons that yoghurt.

Farewell

Henry has a new playmate. Her name is Angelique and she's adorably French. They live just a few streets away. We met them in the local park . The sad thing is they're leaving to live in France with her grandparents. Angelique's mama, Audrey, is French and she's adorable too. Her Papa, Dominic, is a kiwi and a stay at home Dad. We don't only like them because they'r adorable but also because they think everything Henry does is cute even when sometimes it clearly is not. Angelique, who is only 20 months old can say many french words, in fact she probably knows more french than she does English.

We're so sad that they're leaving but at the same time so very jealous. They get to eat cheeses we can only dream about... and croissants and pastries and french wine. They'll ride Vespa's and snowski and wander through little villages and drink fine coffee as they watch the locals wander by. Today they showed me some photographs of the village they'll be living in and all it made me want to do was give them a sleep elixer and steal their identity so I could go in their place.

They've lived here for four years and decided that Angelique needed to grow up knowing her grandparents. They found it hard in this conservative part of the world to make friends. Dom and Audrey are placid, calm and interesting people but this area we live in is typically suburbia. A stark contrast to the culturally saturated villages of France. The locals here are concerned about their lawn and renovations and traffic calming and complaining to council about the smells of other people's barbeques wafting into their homes. They're friendly enough to nod their heads in greeting but that's it. They don't let you in unless you can discuss the downturn in the value of property if the council installs public toilets at the park or the value of a good private school education or when you will purchase your next Jeep. I have lived here for five years and I thought perhaps it was just me that felt this way about our neighbourhood but after talking with them I realised I wasn't alone. Dominic met another local recently who lives directly across from our closest park area and this man (who sports long grey hair and rides a Harley Davidson) refuses to go to the park anymore because he's sick of hearing complaints about the things he believes make a community just that. BBQ's and the sounds of children playing.

The neighbourhood here is very picturesque. There are lots of trees and birdlife and even plenty of snakes and that makes up for the lack of neighbourly affection but it's hard to make a life when you feel you can't connect. If you just don't care whether the neighbour mows his lawn or not or if you don't believe a good education can only come from a lifetime of working your fingers to the bone or you enjoy the smell of other people's cooking and you'd really like some public toilets in the park then I guess it's hard to fit in. I have struggled with it everyday since I've lived here but I have family and good friends close by so it's made a lot easier for me. Mind you if I was given the opportunity to go and live in France I'd do it in an instant.

We'll miss them. The upside is though that if we ever make it to France we've got somewhere to stay.

He's never coming back

Steve Irwin, famous Australian Crocodile Hunter is dead. I can't say anything here that hasn't already been said but for those of you in the States I can tell you that his death has been all anyone has talked about here. The TV and radio have been broadcasting almost nothing but reports and tribues to him. We all believed he was invincible. Many Australians were almost embarrassed that he was the "Australian" the world believed us all to be. I'm proud of that fact. He put Australia on the world map. He made us all much more aware of the delicate link we have with nature. He poured his own money into conservation. He bought up land everywhere just to protect the species who were at risk of extinction. Love him or hate him there's not many of us who can say we lived our lives fighting causes we were truly passionate about. He certainly wasn't a wealthy man by Hollywood standards. Apparently he made only $4 million last year compared to Nicole Kidman's $23 million and the $50 million made by the Wiggles. He was the most well known Australian worldwide and yet made only a fraction of what others made. All of his money went back into the conservation and protection of wildlife and their habitat.

Many news reports I've read on the internet claim that few Australians watched his programs. I did. I loved them. Maya loved them. I guess if his death does nothing else it may make people realise that we never know when we are going to breathe our last breath. Who gets up in the morning and thinks they're going to die that day, just hours after having that first cup of tea?

A photo in which I actually look ok. Don't laugh!

Since Henry's asleep and I have some time to muck around I was looking through some photos and found this photo which is actually a reasonably nice one of me. The sunglasses help. Maya of course looks beautiful. My brother sent this to me. His wonderful fiance took it while we were in Newcastle. I normally hate photographs of myself which is why you rarely see them here.

Swim like a crocodile

Henry had his first swimming lesson today. I had tossed up in my mind whether or not to take him but I'm so glad I did. The swim instructor was fantastic. His lesson was taken with a baby and another little girl only around 15 months old. Of course I had to get in the water with him but the pool is heated and it's under cover so it was really a lovely experience. They teach using songs as prompts which made it fun. Considering he's only ever been swimming in a pool about 3 times he took to it like a duck to water. He loved it up until the last ten minutes when he started saying "I don't like the beach, I have to go home now". Still he continued on like a trooper.

The baby boy knew all the cues and the little girl was like a fish. She was amazing. She would swim underwater to the side of the pool and get out by herself. Her mother said she had only been going since she was twelve months old. I think the instructor knows how to get results.

A Feast or Famine

Is it possible to have too many jobs? So this year I've had a total of four different jobs and just got offered another. My foray into the world of sales didn't last long. I couldn't quite bring myself to make any real sales to women who demanded you visit them but then looked at you over the top of their designer red framed lenses and told you they just wanted to see you but weren't interested in making a purchase right now. There's a certain type of person who occupies the space behind the counters of "home and living" retail stores. I always imagined them living in homes that looked just like their stores. Everything colour matched with a lot useless but attractive soft furnishings and vases full of nothing because they were designed for aesthetic effect not function.

Then out of sheer desperation I signed up to interview with a market research company I had worked for years ago for several years. Things hadn't changed there either but the pay was good. I guess I felt I'd rather struggle with trying to keep shoes on my kids feet than work in a cubicle dialing numbers that were connected to the homes of people who'd rather you break and enter to steal their posessions than ask them to answer a survey over the phone. That ended when I feigned a sore throat on Mother's Day and I was forced to provide them with a doctors certificate. That and the fact that I had to work 50 hours on a training rate for something I could do with my hands tied behind my back. It was also as if everyone working there accepted the fact that they were expected to work like robots even though all their job promotional material stated there would be "room to use your initiative and work your way up". Bottom feeders stay bottom feeders in that industry.

From there I took myself off to another market research company and told them what I could and could not do. They were fantastic and very accommodating and gave me some work that was more worthy of my ability although still not very stimulating.

I then got offered the work I'm currently doing which is working for an investigation company typing precis of investigation interviews. Some might say this is utterly boring but I find it utterly fascinating. I get to listen in on some very interesting stuff.

In between all of this I applied for a job on a health research study and while, according to them, I was the best candidate for the job, I missed out because I wasn't available enough for them. Just last week they offered me the job again. I turned it down. I'm quite happy where I am. It's not consistent but it pays very well and it keeps me entertained.

Happy Father's Day

Unfortunately we weren't thinking straight today and I did not have the camera at the ready when Henry walked from the bedroom to his Daddy (who was in the kitchen making Mummy a cup of tea), saying Happy Father's Day as he handed over the gift. You can take my word for it that it was cute and adorable and said with love. He gave Dad a hug, demanded a cup of tea and toast and then headed out to the TV where he waited patiently for someone to come put "Bob a Builder" on it for him.

And here's the wisteria in full bloom. One day it's bare, the next it's covered in flowers and bees and releasing a most delicate scent

It's time

Lately Henry is obsessed with taking off his pants and pointing out to me that he has a "doody". I guess this means it's time to get serious about toilet training. He can't seem to leave them on for more than five minutes. Each night for the last 4 nights he's fallen asleep with his bare bum in the air after spending an eternity trying to free himself of the constraints of underwear. Last night he was in a full body suit and I heard him chattering away to himself before he fell asleep. When I went to check on him he was lying on his back fast asleep with the zip undone and his singlet pulled up over his head. He hadn't been able to get his legs out to get his nappy off and maybe thought if he could get the singlet off he'd get to the nappy. We've been sitting on the "toot" now several times a day for a few months but he never does anything. He just sits there and pulls all the toilet paper off the roll and shoves it in the toilet "like mummy does". He's learned that because I haven't been to the toilet alone for about two years.

My Baby the Car

Henry treats his trucks and cars like babies. The other morning after playing happily with them he ran outside and placed them in the pram and took them for a "walk". He then brought them inside and attempted to give them some breakfast.

Touch my stuff and I'll biff you.

It's hard to get a photo of 3 small children when they're all being still and unfortunately this is the best I could do. We've just attempted to have 2 young 20 month old girls enjoy a play with my boisterous 24 month old. Angelique, in the left hand corner, is just the quietest child I've met in years. She just sits back and soaks up the atmosphere. Isabella, with the phone to her ear is a little more like Henry. She speaks her mind and makes the most of all opportunties. Mine, well he just likes things to go his way no matter what. He hugs the girls and gives them kisses but when they touch his stuff he can't help but give them a good biff. I need to get out the child rearing guidebooks and learn all over again how to cope with this behaviour.

Playgroup is all about singing

This morning I took Henry to the PCYC (Police Citizen's Youth Club) playgroup. We went with his friend Angelique who is four months younger than him. I was expecting a bunch of kids just hanging out doing their own thing on all the cool looking play equipment. What we got instead was a very well structured play timetable. When we walked in there were parents with their young children all sitting in a circle and the play instructor was singing some cool kids songs and playing her guitar. Every child except mine sat listening intently, enthralled by the singalong. Obviously they'd been before and were indoctinated into the rules of playgroup. Henry thought it much more fun to run around on the padded mats and scream really loudly so he could hear his own voice as it reverberated through the room.
There was some time to play with the cool stuff after the songs were over but even that was heavily controlled. He was very co-operative at this point but then it was time to head back to the "big" room for some ball throwing and more singing.

Henry just can't do sitting still during a singalong.

Maya and her cousing Mitch about to freeze their little toes off in the water

The Bogey Hole. This is a huge big square pool cut out by prisoners around 1819 to make a private swimming hole for the then Governor. This place is a little scary and it would take a brave person to venture in there as the surf still pounds against the rocks there turning the pool into a swirling, raging spa. Some people hold onto the rusted iron pins that were used for fencing as the waves come in and hit them full force, washing them back into the pool.

My brother and his fiance. Great pub overlooking the coastline.

Maya and I had 6 days in Newcastle. Orginally we were all going to go. We managed to get some fantastic flight deals - $22 each way - but Ben could not take time off work and after I had paid and booked I realised Henry would have turned two just before we fly which means he was no longer free. The tickets had then gone up to $140 dollars so we made the decision to leave him home with Ben and my mother. All things were going fine until Ben called me Sunday to tell me Henry had started throwing up. Taking care of a kid who is throwing up everywhere on your own is no easy task and I felt bad I wasn't here to help. Mum and Henry picked us up from the airport on Tuesday and by then he had diarrhea but worse than that he wouldn't talk to me. Must have been punishing me for going away and leaving him.

I must admit it was relaxing just hanging out at the beach, doing a little touring and sitting watching Foxtel all day. What a life! I could easily pack up my bags right now and go live there.

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.