I had no idea just how many things could impede a young person's journey to the land of nod.
I'll share. Just a few.
"I need to tell you something." This may or may not be true.
"I'm going to vomit." This may or may not be true. Tread very carefully with this one.
"I'm hot."
"I'm cold."
"I want my blanket on please."
"I want my blanket off please."
And yes, I realise these past two COULD very easily be done by the child saying them. But that would be too easy.
"She is keeping me awake."
"I just thought of something that happened last year and it made me sad."
"I forgot to tell you that I cut my finger and now I need a bandaid."
"I can see a bug."
"I can hear a bug."
"I can't see any bugs."
"I need some water."
"I need to go to the toilet."
"I want a hug." I always fall for this one, cos, well, they won't want hugs in the future and I'll take what I can get now. Which is a lot.
"What time is it?"
"Do we go to school tomorrow?"
"I really really want you."
"I have a sore eye/ear/nose/leg/cheek/head/something."
"You forgot to give me a sticker."
"I wish I had a sticker."
"Why did she get a sticker today and I didn't?"
"I'm hungry."
And my all time fave, said from bed, 30 odd minutes after said child had gone to bed - "I'm tired."
Bedtime is exhausting.
Multiply the above by three and that's my evening. As a general rule. Unless something tires them out so much that they fall straight to sleep. I'm yet to discover what that is but on the balance of probabilities that thing must exist.
And then it isn't over because I'll go and check on them, as I did last night, and I'll see Miss 5 standing bolt upright in the middle of the room, horror movie style.
I know they sleepwalk.
I know I should expect these things.
It still freaks the living crap out of me. In a big way.
So then my blood pressure is right up and I can't sleep. Not that I would anyway because it was before 11.30pm and something always happens at 11.30pm, as I believe I have mentioned previously.
I would just like to say that today I bought undies. Little boy undies.
That's right. At the risk of being an over sharer, Master 3 is now an undies boy. Well, he will be as of tomorrow once I start putting him in undies. But he has done SUCH a good job this week with the toilet training that I'm going to give it a burl. And we shall see what happens.
Nearly 6 years I have been changing nappies. At one point for 3 babies. Oh. My. God. I can't believe that the end is in sight…. it really truly is……
And then next year Miss 4 will start school and the year after Master 3 will and then all my babies will be at school.
And holy crap when the hell did they grow up?
The curse of parenthood. You rejoice when they achieve new milestones and learn new things.
And you lament the fact that your babies are becoming less like babies and more like little people.
Cuddle them. Often. Make them laugh. Cuddle them again.
Cos they're growing up faster than you can possibly believe.
Thursday 30 January 2014
Monday 27 January 2014
And now I can breathe.
Because my babies are back.
I absolutely loved having a "recharge" but I think it is fair to say that the carpet in the foyer is now worn down thanks to my pacing this morning awaiting the return of my babies.
They had a fabulous time. I knew they would.
And when they came in the door they looked different. Older. Taller. I had missed 8 precious days of their lives.
I had to measure them. Because I was sure they were taller.
They were.
Un. Believable.
Miss 5 is 121cm.
Miss 4 is 115cm.
Master 3 is 98cm.
My monster babies lol. And they all have massive heads too. Unsurprising really considering I have an enormous head too. Still, it isn't as though it looks massive on them. It just makes finding hats difficult.
So today we cuddled and laughed and messed around and did really very little. I liked that. I liked just being with them. Telling them how much I loved them and missed them. Giving them cuddles. Just looking at them and seeing how much they had grown in such a relatively short space of time.
It is astounding. Absolutely astounding.
I do wonder about things. I wonder if this is the only time they will spend such a long time away from me. I wonder if perhaps this may be the start of them seeing their dad on a more regular basis, or at least for some decent stretches. I wonder. I just wonder.
Enough about that though.
They are home. And tonight as they were getting ready for bed it was as though they had never left. Fights over which seat on the sofa as we read bedtime stories (and yes, I let them choose one bedtime story each, so it is three, but being that I only have two sides, we need to play musical chairs because whoever has chosen the book must sit beside me to see me read it, so you can imagine the fun therein).
So tonight was Thomas and some adventure on Sodor or other. Complete with sound effects. Cool.
Then Mr Messy, read from our Mr Men compendium which is enormous and heavy and has a dust jacket that isn't a dust jacket it is a box, and which Miss 4 finds it near impossible to put the book into and thus usually ends in tears, which of course tonight it did, even though I asked her to wait. She is not the most patient child. And is frustrated if she is unable to do something. Can't imagine from where she got that trait…..
And then there was the final book in the rainbow fairy series. Miss 5 adores them. ADORES them. Aside from the books being based upon various different fairies and their interaction with humans, the book set came with a little doll called Ruby. The first of the fairies. And Miss 5 sits there with Ruby perched on her fingers for the entire time we read, she leaning up against me and watching as I read every page, hanging off the words.
I love it. Absolutely. It is a wonderful and beautiful experience to share with my eldest daughter.
And Miss 4 loves her books too. Not in quite the same way. Still an interested way, just different. As with Master 3.
One thing is for sure though, books are invaluable. We have a bookcase, which I just moved while the kids were away. It used to be in Master 3's bedroom (as did a sofa which is no longer), and we only ever read in the lounge room now so I thought it best to move it out here. It is 9 boxes. And they are full of books.
And we will get more books as they change tastes and reading levels and interests.
Don't get me wrong, they don't "read" all these books. I do. But they do read some of them. We have a "reader" cube in the bookshelf. They are the books that are basically the same as the readers that are sent home from school. Miss 5 and Miss 4 often times decide that rather than my reading them a book they would prefer to read me a book. I love that. Adore it in fact.
This afternoon Miss 4 read me a book entitled "Which beetle?". Well, half of it anyway, before she got annoyed because the picture on one page of the book didn't match the picture on the next page, even though the next page referred to the previous page.
Yes. I know. She is incredibly like me. In so many ways. Maybe not as physically in appearance as Miss 5, but intellectually and in personality, she is me. In miniature.
And Master 3 now has a number 3 on his football jumper, courtesy of his dad. And that is another surprising and fabulous thing that happened this past week.
He goes for the Cats. Well, his jumper is a Cats jumper. 3 is Jimmy Bartel. But he chose it because he is 3. And that's his number. And when he is with me he goes for the Cats. When he is with his dad he goes for Collingwood. As do all the kids.
I think that is actually pretty special to be honest.
So anyway, I'm going to go now. Because I have to work tomorrow, and today has been an incredibly emotional day, to end an incredibly emotional week.
But I survived. They survived. We can do it.
And I hope we do again. Not for my sake, but for theirs.
This life of ours is starting to work out I think. Many good things ahead.
Oh. So. Many.
I absolutely loved having a "recharge" but I think it is fair to say that the carpet in the foyer is now worn down thanks to my pacing this morning awaiting the return of my babies.
They had a fabulous time. I knew they would.
And when they came in the door they looked different. Older. Taller. I had missed 8 precious days of their lives.
I had to measure them. Because I was sure they were taller.
They were.
Un. Believable.
Miss 5 is 121cm.
Miss 4 is 115cm.
Master 3 is 98cm.
My monster babies lol. And they all have massive heads too. Unsurprising really considering I have an enormous head too. Still, it isn't as though it looks massive on them. It just makes finding hats difficult.
So today we cuddled and laughed and messed around and did really very little. I liked that. I liked just being with them. Telling them how much I loved them and missed them. Giving them cuddles. Just looking at them and seeing how much they had grown in such a relatively short space of time.
It is astounding. Absolutely astounding.
I do wonder about things. I wonder if this is the only time they will spend such a long time away from me. I wonder if perhaps this may be the start of them seeing their dad on a more regular basis, or at least for some decent stretches. I wonder. I just wonder.
Enough about that though.
They are home. And tonight as they were getting ready for bed it was as though they had never left. Fights over which seat on the sofa as we read bedtime stories (and yes, I let them choose one bedtime story each, so it is three, but being that I only have two sides, we need to play musical chairs because whoever has chosen the book must sit beside me to see me read it, so you can imagine the fun therein).
So tonight was Thomas and some adventure on Sodor or other. Complete with sound effects. Cool.
Then Mr Messy, read from our Mr Men compendium which is enormous and heavy and has a dust jacket that isn't a dust jacket it is a box, and which Miss 4 finds it near impossible to put the book into and thus usually ends in tears, which of course tonight it did, even though I asked her to wait. She is not the most patient child. And is frustrated if she is unable to do something. Can't imagine from where she got that trait…..
And then there was the final book in the rainbow fairy series. Miss 5 adores them. ADORES them. Aside from the books being based upon various different fairies and their interaction with humans, the book set came with a little doll called Ruby. The first of the fairies. And Miss 5 sits there with Ruby perched on her fingers for the entire time we read, she leaning up against me and watching as I read every page, hanging off the words.
I love it. Absolutely. It is a wonderful and beautiful experience to share with my eldest daughter.
And Miss 4 loves her books too. Not in quite the same way. Still an interested way, just different. As with Master 3.
One thing is for sure though, books are invaluable. We have a bookcase, which I just moved while the kids were away. It used to be in Master 3's bedroom (as did a sofa which is no longer), and we only ever read in the lounge room now so I thought it best to move it out here. It is 9 boxes. And they are full of books.
And we will get more books as they change tastes and reading levels and interests.
Don't get me wrong, they don't "read" all these books. I do. But they do read some of them. We have a "reader" cube in the bookshelf. They are the books that are basically the same as the readers that are sent home from school. Miss 5 and Miss 4 often times decide that rather than my reading them a book they would prefer to read me a book. I love that. Adore it in fact.
This afternoon Miss 4 read me a book entitled "Which beetle?". Well, half of it anyway, before she got annoyed because the picture on one page of the book didn't match the picture on the next page, even though the next page referred to the previous page.
Yes. I know. She is incredibly like me. In so many ways. Maybe not as physically in appearance as Miss 5, but intellectually and in personality, she is me. In miniature.
And Master 3 now has a number 3 on his football jumper, courtesy of his dad. And that is another surprising and fabulous thing that happened this past week.
He goes for the Cats. Well, his jumper is a Cats jumper. 3 is Jimmy Bartel. But he chose it because he is 3. And that's his number. And when he is with me he goes for the Cats. When he is with his dad he goes for Collingwood. As do all the kids.
I think that is actually pretty special to be honest.
So anyway, I'm going to go now. Because I have to work tomorrow, and today has been an incredibly emotional day, to end an incredibly emotional week.
But I survived. They survived. We can do it.
And I hope we do again. Not for my sake, but for theirs.
This life of ours is starting to work out I think. Many good things ahead.
Oh. So. Many.
Sunday 26 January 2014
It's a century!
My 100th blog.
It seems as though I only began yesterday. And so little and so much has happened in that space of time.
I have been a little absent for the last few days. Why? Because I have been OUT! Yes. Like a real grown up. Well, not the whole time. But a significant portion of it.
Thursday was spent very much not out. Thursday was clean like a woman possessed day. And that I did. And accordingly I ended up with many bags of "stuff" to go to the salvos, and a few clean rooms and a few rooms cleaner than previously although not 100% clean but good enough for now clean.
Friday. Well. Now there was a day. A fabulous fabulous day.
It began with a sleep in. Ooooooh yeah. A really good one too. As in I didn't actually wake up at the usual time I wake up. I slept. For hours longer than usual.
And then up I got and got ready for a day on the town.
And do you know what? I had started going into the detail, but I deleted it. Why? Because, well, detail isn't needed. I have had an absolutely amazing few days. And that is all that matters. I made use of the time I had for me, and I got out and about, caught up with people who mean an awful lot to me, and overall just had a fabulous time.
I embraced the opportunity to be me. Just me. Not mum. Not anything else but me.
I'm ready for my babies to come back though. I have missed them terribly. I haven't pined. I haven't moped. Not at all. I spoke to them twice throughout the course of the week, and they were having a ball.
And tomorrow morning they will be back home with me.
And I am recharged. Absolutely, 100%, completely.
100th blog. 100% recharged. Who'd have thought hey?
It seems as though I only began yesterday. And so little and so much has happened in that space of time.
I have been a little absent for the last few days. Why? Because I have been OUT! Yes. Like a real grown up. Well, not the whole time. But a significant portion of it.
Thursday was spent very much not out. Thursday was clean like a woman possessed day. And that I did. And accordingly I ended up with many bags of "stuff" to go to the salvos, and a few clean rooms and a few rooms cleaner than previously although not 100% clean but good enough for now clean.
Friday. Well. Now there was a day. A fabulous fabulous day.
It began with a sleep in. Ooooooh yeah. A really good one too. As in I didn't actually wake up at the usual time I wake up. I slept. For hours longer than usual.
And then up I got and got ready for a day on the town.
And do you know what? I had started going into the detail, but I deleted it. Why? Because, well, detail isn't needed. I have had an absolutely amazing few days. And that is all that matters. I made use of the time I had for me, and I got out and about, caught up with people who mean an awful lot to me, and overall just had a fabulous time.
I embraced the opportunity to be me. Just me. Not mum. Not anything else but me.
I'm ready for my babies to come back though. I have missed them terribly. I haven't pined. I haven't moped. Not at all. I spoke to them twice throughout the course of the week, and they were having a ball.
And tomorrow morning they will be back home with me.
And I am recharged. Absolutely, 100%, completely.
100th blog. 100% recharged. Who'd have thought hey?
Wednesday 22 January 2014
It's oh so quiet…..
shhhhh…….shhhhhh…….
It is. Really really quiet.
Since the kids left on Sunday I have been buzzing around like a headless chicken trying to get things done. And I have achieved quite a lot. I, this evening, completed sorting through Master 3's room, which doubles as the toy room. I managed to cull quite a few things and the room now looks neat, for the first time since, well, since we moved in really I guess.
The foyer, different story. But that is easily fixed. Sort of.
I still have washing to fold.
But I have caught up on all the dishes and what needed cleaning in the kitchen.
The lounge room is clean. And there is now a new bookcase in there, relocated from Master 3's room, as we no longer read in there since I removed the sofa from there due to space issues.
Things are starting to come together. Starting to.
I plan on going like a bat out of hell for the remainder of the night, and most likely some of tomorrow, but the ultimate goal is to have completed operation cull and clean by lunchtime tomorrow, thereby leaving me many days to enjoy the freedom of not having parental responsibilities immediately present.
And by keeping myself busy it limits the nagging, longing feeling I have knowing that my babies are not here.
Moving on. Because if I don't I will get sad. I know that.
I can't believe how much stuff we have. It astounds me. And I have removed a heap of it. And we still have lots. Yet I don't think we have "everything". But holy moly bajoly, truly me, there is a LOT of stuff.
Red Cross came and picked up a veranda worth. Nice of them to do a house call I thought. Helped me no end. And helped them too I guess. So win win.
I can't stay and chat because I'm on a roll, I really am.
If all goes to plan, tomorrow night I'll be in a fabulous mood, surrounded by a beautifully clean and organised house and I will have either a glass of wine or a gin and tonic in hand, and I'll be ready for one huge mumma of a chat.
For now, I'm offski. The cleaning urge is just too strong in this little black duck.
May the force be with you. And me for that matter.
Toodles.
It is. Really really quiet.
Since the kids left on Sunday I have been buzzing around like a headless chicken trying to get things done. And I have achieved quite a lot. I, this evening, completed sorting through Master 3's room, which doubles as the toy room. I managed to cull quite a few things and the room now looks neat, for the first time since, well, since we moved in really I guess.
The foyer, different story. But that is easily fixed. Sort of.
I still have washing to fold.
But I have caught up on all the dishes and what needed cleaning in the kitchen.
The lounge room is clean. And there is now a new bookcase in there, relocated from Master 3's room, as we no longer read in there since I removed the sofa from there due to space issues.
Things are starting to come together. Starting to.
I plan on going like a bat out of hell for the remainder of the night, and most likely some of tomorrow, but the ultimate goal is to have completed operation cull and clean by lunchtime tomorrow, thereby leaving me many days to enjoy the freedom of not having parental responsibilities immediately present.
And by keeping myself busy it limits the nagging, longing feeling I have knowing that my babies are not here.
Moving on. Because if I don't I will get sad. I know that.
I can't believe how much stuff we have. It astounds me. And I have removed a heap of it. And we still have lots. Yet I don't think we have "everything". But holy moly bajoly, truly me, there is a LOT of stuff.
Red Cross came and picked up a veranda worth. Nice of them to do a house call I thought. Helped me no end. And helped them too I guess. So win win.
I can't stay and chat because I'm on a roll, I really am.
If all goes to plan, tomorrow night I'll be in a fabulous mood, surrounded by a beautifully clean and organised house and I will have either a glass of wine or a gin and tonic in hand, and I'll be ready for one huge mumma of a chat.
For now, I'm offski. The cleaning urge is just too strong in this little black duck.
May the force be with you. And me for that matter.
Toodles.
Monday 20 January 2014
I was late for work today.
Today. Yes. When the only person I had to get ready was myself.
Un. Believable.
How did that happen? Well, I will tell you.
I set the alarm for a very respectable time, that being 8am. I of course woke up before this, but knew I could lie in bed until such time as that whiny little ring sounded. Surprisingly it wasn't actually all that long before that occurred.
So up I got, put the kettle on, turned on the computer and looked outside to see what the day was going to bring weather wise. I waited (watched pot and all that) and then sat down at the computer with my coffee.
And I looked around. And my ears were positively ringing from the silence. It was amazing. And I smiled. Hot coffee for me this morning.
Before I knew it it was 8.30am. Oops.
Jumped in the shower, washed hair and all that, then out again, and it's 8.45am. Oops. Again.
Still had to dry hair, get dressed, and put on makeup. And I was out the door at 9 on the dot. Which is approximately the time I start work.
Ah well. These things happen. My boss wasn't there yet so he was none the wiser. But it's a me thing. I know what time I'm supposed to start. I just don't like being late.
Actually I don't like being late for anything. Particularly where others are involved, but even if I have set myself (and the kids) a schedule. Where others are involved I just think it is rude. They have gone to the trouble of making plans with you, the least you can do is respect that enough to keep to the time agreed. And if you are going to be more than five minutes late, well, it is simply courtesy to let the other party know. In my humble opinion.
So I have done a bit since the kids got picked up. I have vacuumed. And what a rewarding experience that was. Because we had done craft. Post-craft vacuum is a wonderful experience. So audibly worthwhile.
I have rearranged some furniture. As you do.
I have also culled four bags of clothes. So far.
I have done four loads of washing.
I have sung, at 11.30pm, because I could.
I played random youtube videos at 1.05am. Because I could. And then I realised it was 1.05am and I had to work the next day.
I came straight home from work. And then realised I needed dog food, so immediately popped up to the supermarket. It took almost no time. A. Mazing.
I have looked through my photo albums on Facebook and become emotional because I miss the kids.
I have smiled at random things I remember them doing or saying.
I have emailed and messaged people I don't know.
This one may need some explaining. Otherwise you may think that I see random people posting on Facebook and send them an arbitrary message telling them that I am about to go to the supermarket. Or something. As some people may think.
But no. Sometimes I see people and I think that what they have done is amazing. Or extraordinary. Or just plain difficult, but they kept at it. I don't know these people. They don't know me. But I want to let them know what I am thinking, so I message them. They may never get the message. Sometimes they do. And sometimes they actually respond.
The thought behind it is this. Life is hard. Some things are harder than others. Sometimes, even though most things are going well, some things aren't. Sometimes a positive word is enough to do something. Not necessarily a monumental thing. But something.
Think about it. Next time you see someone who is having a difficult time, or who is supremely motivated to achieve a goal, tell them about the positive effect they are having, not only on themselves, but on others.
They may be having a bad day and hiding it. They may not. But they may.
Any chance you have to say something positive, say it.
I have some new mantras.
Be. Positive.
See positivity in others. And tell them they have that effect.
Smile.
The thing is this. Even if you are going through a rough time, even a really really rough time, there are very few days that have no positives. Focus on the positives. Acknowledge the positives. Positives breed. Let them. You will reap the reward.
Allow life to breathe itself into you and fill yourself with life.
Then share it.
I think it is fair to say I'm having a good day. Why? Because. Because I am letting myself. Because this small amount of time has given me an enormous amount of perspective.
And because life isn't fair. But sulking about it isn't going to make you feel any better.
As they say, you can't change that which you can't control. But you can change the way you react to it.
And there endeth the lesson.
Un. Believable.
How did that happen? Well, I will tell you.
I set the alarm for a very respectable time, that being 8am. I of course woke up before this, but knew I could lie in bed until such time as that whiny little ring sounded. Surprisingly it wasn't actually all that long before that occurred.
So up I got, put the kettle on, turned on the computer and looked outside to see what the day was going to bring weather wise. I waited (watched pot and all that) and then sat down at the computer with my coffee.
And I looked around. And my ears were positively ringing from the silence. It was amazing. And I smiled. Hot coffee for me this morning.
Before I knew it it was 8.30am. Oops.
Jumped in the shower, washed hair and all that, then out again, and it's 8.45am. Oops. Again.
Still had to dry hair, get dressed, and put on makeup. And I was out the door at 9 on the dot. Which is approximately the time I start work.
Ah well. These things happen. My boss wasn't there yet so he was none the wiser. But it's a me thing. I know what time I'm supposed to start. I just don't like being late.
Actually I don't like being late for anything. Particularly where others are involved, but even if I have set myself (and the kids) a schedule. Where others are involved I just think it is rude. They have gone to the trouble of making plans with you, the least you can do is respect that enough to keep to the time agreed. And if you are going to be more than five minutes late, well, it is simply courtesy to let the other party know. In my humble opinion.
So I have done a bit since the kids got picked up. I have vacuumed. And what a rewarding experience that was. Because we had done craft. Post-craft vacuum is a wonderful experience. So audibly worthwhile.
I have rearranged some furniture. As you do.
I have also culled four bags of clothes. So far.
I have done four loads of washing.
I have sung, at 11.30pm, because I could.
I played random youtube videos at 1.05am. Because I could. And then I realised it was 1.05am and I had to work the next day.
I came straight home from work. And then realised I needed dog food, so immediately popped up to the supermarket. It took almost no time. A. Mazing.
I have looked through my photo albums on Facebook and become emotional because I miss the kids.
I have smiled at random things I remember them doing or saying.
I have emailed and messaged people I don't know.
This one may need some explaining. Otherwise you may think that I see random people posting on Facebook and send them an arbitrary message telling them that I am about to go to the supermarket. Or something. As some people may think.
But no. Sometimes I see people and I think that what they have done is amazing. Or extraordinary. Or just plain difficult, but they kept at it. I don't know these people. They don't know me. But I want to let them know what I am thinking, so I message them. They may never get the message. Sometimes they do. And sometimes they actually respond.
The thought behind it is this. Life is hard. Some things are harder than others. Sometimes, even though most things are going well, some things aren't. Sometimes a positive word is enough to do something. Not necessarily a monumental thing. But something.
Think about it. Next time you see someone who is having a difficult time, or who is supremely motivated to achieve a goal, tell them about the positive effect they are having, not only on themselves, but on others.
They may be having a bad day and hiding it. They may not. But they may.
Any chance you have to say something positive, say it.
I have some new mantras.
Be. Positive.
See positivity in others. And tell them they have that effect.
Smile.
The thing is this. Even if you are going through a rough time, even a really really rough time, there are very few days that have no positives. Focus on the positives. Acknowledge the positives. Positives breed. Let them. You will reap the reward.
Allow life to breathe itself into you and fill yourself with life.
Then share it.
I think it is fair to say I'm having a good day. Why? Because. Because I am letting myself. Because this small amount of time has given me an enormous amount of perspective.
And because life isn't fair. But sulking about it isn't going to make you feel any better.
As they say, you can't change that which you can't control. But you can change the way you react to it.
And there endeth the lesson.
Saturday 18 January 2014
"It's ruined!!!!"
The words of a 3 year old upon noticing that his Thomas the Tank Engine advertisement sheet from a Christmas present was ripped.
Ruined.
"It's ruined mum. It's ripped. It's…. ruined….."
Is it completely awful that I had to cover a smile? It was just so completely adorable to hear a 3 year old use the word "ruined" in correct context.
He has a few of them. Little sayings that, whilst not incorrect, are just odd coming from a 3 year old.
Tonight I washed everyone's hair in the bath.
Master 3, sitting there whilst I washed his hair, looked at me and said "I'm doing a fabulous job aren't I mum?"
Yes, yes he was. And wow at the same time.
I adore him. I adore his vocabulary. I adore the way he speaks. I adore the fact that he has no trouble expressing himself. I slightly less adore the fact that he opts to do this every waking moment he has.
Tonight is a little bit of a weird one for me. We had a good, yet slothenly, day. We did some sticker mosaics, we watched some tv.
I cooked up a stew comprised of everything that was in the fridge. And some meat from the freezer.
And it looked like vomit. It really really looked like vomit. And all credit to the kids, they still ate it. Don't get me wrong, it still tasted nice, just looked horrid. Really horrid. As in OMG seriously I am never ever ever going to do that to food again because it just looks like vomit. Tasty vomit. But ew. Even saying that. Or typing it.
Anyway. I digress. I did some cooking. Because I plan to clean the fridge this week.
Why?
Because. Because of the reason that today was an odd day.
Tonight is the last night I will spend with my babies until the 27th. Yes. I know. I am almost beside myself as well.
And no, it was not an off the cuff thing. It was more a "skiting about the amount of leave owing and then having it suggested that perhaps some of that leave should be spent with your children" kind of thing.
And all credit where credit is due, the unsubtle hint was taken. So I am taking that as an immense positive.
And whilst I know the kids will have a truly fabulous time, I have been on the verge of tears for hours.
I am looking forward to having a break. I need it. I really really need it. It has been a hell of a few years.
But I will miss them so so terribly. I want to enjoy the time I have. I will work for a small portion of it, and then I will have time. To clean. To cull toys and clothes. And to think. And I just know that I will miss them terribly. My beautiful little babies.
Isn't it funny? As parents we do everything in our power to give our kids everything they need, and a lot of what they want. And we do so without expecting anything in return. But in return we get hugs, kisses, stories of dreams about fairies and wondrous journeys, laughter and hopes and dreams and wonderment at everything.
And now I am wondering just how I will cope for such a long time without my babies beside me. They are my world. My everything.
I have been excited about this upcoming time. And now I have those pesky tears doing that whole cheek streaming thing again. Because I know that after a few days I will roam through the house, thinking how quiet it is, missing the rabble and noise. Missing the laughter. Missing even the screams of "Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum".
But then maybe it is a blessing in disguise. Maybe it is an opportunity for me to realise that I am someone other than a mother, even though that, in my mind and life, is my prime purpose in this life. To raise my beautiful little ones. Everything else is, seemingly, incidental.
But I guess it isn't. Because I am me too. And I haven't really had a chance to be me for a very long time.
So I think I'll try to focus on that. I will try to give me the me time that this opportunity is allowing. I'm not quite sure how I will do that. But I will.
And I will try not to cry too much.
One thing's for sure though.
I plan on cooking myself a meal, sitting down, and eating it. All. No sharing. Because I can.
What are the odds I let my dog in for the week….. just cos I can…..
Before you have kids nobody tells you. Nobody tells you just how much they become a part of you. And that much as it will be hard, it is harder to face the thought of time without them.
And that is where I am. Right now.
I'll talk to you in a day or two with an update.
For now, I'm emo. In a completely massive way. Because tomorrow my babies are going. For 8 sleeps. 8 nights without me. I worry Miss 4 won't cope. She is in with me 5 out of every 7 nights. I worry about the sleepwalking. I worry about everything.
I just worry.
I just want my babies. For always. I don't think I like sharing. But know I have to. And I want to because I know they need that too.
This is just. So. Hard. All of it.
I will live, I know. I'll cope too.
I will also count down the nights till my babies come home.
Ruined.
"It's ruined mum. It's ripped. It's…. ruined….."
Is it completely awful that I had to cover a smile? It was just so completely adorable to hear a 3 year old use the word "ruined" in correct context.
He has a few of them. Little sayings that, whilst not incorrect, are just odd coming from a 3 year old.
Tonight I washed everyone's hair in the bath.
Master 3, sitting there whilst I washed his hair, looked at me and said "I'm doing a fabulous job aren't I mum?"
Yes, yes he was. And wow at the same time.
I adore him. I adore his vocabulary. I adore the way he speaks. I adore the fact that he has no trouble expressing himself. I slightly less adore the fact that he opts to do this every waking moment he has.
Tonight is a little bit of a weird one for me. We had a good, yet slothenly, day. We did some sticker mosaics, we watched some tv.
I cooked up a stew comprised of everything that was in the fridge. And some meat from the freezer.
And it looked like vomit. It really really looked like vomit. And all credit to the kids, they still ate it. Don't get me wrong, it still tasted nice, just looked horrid. Really horrid. As in OMG seriously I am never ever ever going to do that to food again because it just looks like vomit. Tasty vomit. But ew. Even saying that. Or typing it.
Anyway. I digress. I did some cooking. Because I plan to clean the fridge this week.
Why?
Because. Because of the reason that today was an odd day.
Tonight is the last night I will spend with my babies until the 27th. Yes. I know. I am almost beside myself as well.
And no, it was not an off the cuff thing. It was more a "skiting about the amount of leave owing and then having it suggested that perhaps some of that leave should be spent with your children" kind of thing.
And all credit where credit is due, the unsubtle hint was taken. So I am taking that as an immense positive.
And whilst I know the kids will have a truly fabulous time, I have been on the verge of tears for hours.
I am looking forward to having a break. I need it. I really really need it. It has been a hell of a few years.
But I will miss them so so terribly. I want to enjoy the time I have. I will work for a small portion of it, and then I will have time. To clean. To cull toys and clothes. And to think. And I just know that I will miss them terribly. My beautiful little babies.
Isn't it funny? As parents we do everything in our power to give our kids everything they need, and a lot of what they want. And we do so without expecting anything in return. But in return we get hugs, kisses, stories of dreams about fairies and wondrous journeys, laughter and hopes and dreams and wonderment at everything.
And now I am wondering just how I will cope for such a long time without my babies beside me. They are my world. My everything.
I have been excited about this upcoming time. And now I have those pesky tears doing that whole cheek streaming thing again. Because I know that after a few days I will roam through the house, thinking how quiet it is, missing the rabble and noise. Missing the laughter. Missing even the screams of "Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum".
But then maybe it is a blessing in disguise. Maybe it is an opportunity for me to realise that I am someone other than a mother, even though that, in my mind and life, is my prime purpose in this life. To raise my beautiful little ones. Everything else is, seemingly, incidental.
But I guess it isn't. Because I am me too. And I haven't really had a chance to be me for a very long time.
So I think I'll try to focus on that. I will try to give me the me time that this opportunity is allowing. I'm not quite sure how I will do that. But I will.
And I will try not to cry too much.
One thing's for sure though.
I plan on cooking myself a meal, sitting down, and eating it. All. No sharing. Because I can.
What are the odds I let my dog in for the week….. just cos I can…..
Before you have kids nobody tells you. Nobody tells you just how much they become a part of you. And that much as it will be hard, it is harder to face the thought of time without them.
And that is where I am. Right now.
I'll talk to you in a day or two with an update.
For now, I'm emo. In a completely massive way. Because tomorrow my babies are going. For 8 sleeps. 8 nights without me. I worry Miss 4 won't cope. She is in with me 5 out of every 7 nights. I worry about the sleepwalking. I worry about everything.
I just worry.
I just want my babies. For always. I don't think I like sharing. But know I have to. And I want to because I know they need that too.
This is just. So. Hard. All of it.
I will live, I know. I'll cope too.
I will also count down the nights till my babies come home.
Thursday 16 January 2014
Side effects
can occur with regards to pretty well anything.
Medication quite obviously can have some nasty little side effects.
Spending too much time in the sun may result in some side effects, particularly if sunscreen was not applied regularly.
Drinking too much, well, that goes without saying that there are effects.
Hot weather has some too.
Lethargy.
Sweating.
Moodiness.
Inability to concentrate.
Sleeplessness.
Irritability.
I could just keep on going.
I won't. It's all I can do to keep my fingers moving. That is the kind of lethargy I'm talking about. The "I need to get a drink but I just can't be bothered so I'll wait" kind of lethargy.
At least we got to watch a pretty cool thunderstorm tonight. Heaps of forky lightning. It was fab. Kids loved it.
I would tell you about today but I truly just can't be naffed. I'm tired. Mentally and physically. It has been a long week.
Bring on the cool change.
It makes the kids more violent too I think. The peas have had several outings of late.
Isn't it annoying when people post pictures of their dashboard with the temperature, or screen shots showing the current temperature where people are? That's me. I'm doing that. Right now. Well, not literally right now, but these past few days. Because I simply can't believe just how hot it is. Yes, I know we usually get a few real stinkers in summer but, well, agh. That is all.
I'll stop now.
Miss 5 and I did have a good day together today. I wasn't working and the other two were at daycare. It was very much a spend time with mum day. We laughed a lot. Cuddled a lot. Chatted a lot. Tried on school uniforms to make sure all fits well. And then I got emotional about my baby going into grade 1. And then she kindly reminded me that Miss 4 will be at school next year. And Master 3 the year after. And then ALL my babies will be at school.
And I felt sad, and happy, and so many different emotions.
And whilst it is sad that children do seemingly grow up so quickly, it is fabulous to think about the fact that in 2 years' time I won't have to fork out for daycare any more.
And that, my friends, makes me incredibly happy. And that money that would otherwise have been spent on daycare I will still put aside, but towards our monster trip overseas, which is planned for 2019. Why so far away? Because I'll need that much time to save for it! And the kids will be old enough to appreciate it.
Until then we shall settle for trips within Australia, and perhaps a jaunt across to Fiji or something in a few years' time. That is if the budget allows. But I did the budget the other day, and I'm pretty sure I can manage it.
Sen. Sational.
Many good things yet to come. Many more.
For now, I'm thinking of branches glistening with ice and leaves covered with snow. A frozen lake whose water is so clear that it reflects the snowy peaks above, a gentle mist hanging in the air, and the look of my breath as I breathe out in the freezing surrounds.
Power of the mind. Cooling myself down mentally.
Try it. Tis massively cool. Pardon the pun.
Tuesday 14 January 2014
Dear Mother Nature
Go home. You're drunk.
Seriously.
It is 9.42pm at this time of writing, and currently it is 35 degrees outside.
Today the majority of the time was spent sitting at around 42 degrees, with a small venture into the 43 zone.
I am not built for this weather. I am vitamin D deficient because I don't go out in the sun. Because I hate it so much. Because I am pretty well albino and just burn. Plus it's hot. And makes you sweat. And is horrid.
I so prefer winter.
But we have to endure this next week of horrific temperatures in Melbourne, as do many South Aussies, and other places around this fabulously shaped country of ours.
Have you ever tried to eat a pancake until it was shaped like Australia? Tis a bit fun. Try it. You'll surprise yourself. In more ways than one.
So Miss 5 has been coming to work with me for the last few days. Why? They didn't get the numbers to run the holiday program. So there you go.
You know I never realised just how much she talked. I knew she could talk. I knew the others could talk too. But one on one, holy mothballs batman. She could talk the hind legs off a donkey.
And it was constant. At one stage I wondered if she was circular breathing. Then wondered about her future career as a trumpeter or didgeridoo player.
"Muuuum. Do you like my drawing?"
"Yes baby it's beautiful."
"You can see all the different colours and I did this here and that there and I think if I do another one I'll do that there and that there and, um, did you say it was morning tea time yet? No? Oh. Ok. I just thought I would check. Can I please have another puzzle thing? What are you doing? Can I see? Where's your boss? Why isn't he here yet? What was that noise? I think someone is on the roof. Stomping. Can I go and see?"
And that was the one conversation and took approximately 35 seconds.
Welcome. To. My. World.
Yesterday was a warm day too. Not like today. But still pretty hot. My bedroom is the only one without a fan, because I give the fans to the kids so they are more comfortable. So I opted to sleep on the sofa in the lounge room because it was far cooler.
I woke up at 5 with Miss 4 lying beside me, asleep. And wondered why I couldn't move in my dream. You know how you have those dreams that somehow incorporate reality? Like the dream where you can hear an alarm going off in the building down the street and you rush over to try and see what is going on and in your dream there are people breaking in and glass shattering and all sorts of whatnot until you realise that the alarm in your dream is actually the alarm on your phone set to wake you up for the day. Anyway. I was dreaming I was getting crushed up against a concrete wall. Hellooooo Miss 4.
We've had a few injuries of late. As is the norm. A few collisions with other children, pieces of furniture, air. The usual. The frozen peas have been employed on many an occasion.
I hate the ones you can see happening but are powerless to stop.
Miss 5 was climbing all over the sofa chairs. I asked her to stop because if she kept at it she would fall over the back.
She fell over the back. There were tears.
Master 3 was sitting on the edge of the sofa near the tv. I asked him to sit on the sofa on his bottom and not on the edge. He fell off. Hit the tv table and has a rather smashing looking diagonal bruise up his ribcage.
I love it when they do things they aren't supposed to, and there is no possible way of hiding that they have done those things. I don't love it love it, but it's kinda fun.
The other day we managed to score a free fairy floss maker. Sensational. I have always wanted one but was never able to justify it. Firstly because nobody makes fairy floss very often, secondly I don't really eat sweets and thirdly I don't like the kids eating sweets.
No matter, it was free, and much as I hate sweets, I will eat the odd tiny piece of fairy floss because it is massively cool.
So I decided to dye the sugar, after testing the machine out with the white.
I dyed two lots. One pink, one blue.
Then I left them on the trays to dry before breaking the sugar apart. Miss 5 was home alone with me, this being yesterday late afternoon right before we were to pick up the younger two.
I was doing something or other and saw her run past me to the bathroom and close the door behind her.
Interesting.
She yelled "You can't come in here!!!"
Interesting. Again.
"I have to" I said. "I have some things I need to put in there."
I wasn't lying. I did have things to put in there. My spray on sunscreen arrived from Catch of the Day (addicted) as well as some other thing I had to put in there. A lipstick or goodness knows what. Some random bench find.
She came running out of the bathroom and into her room, shutting the door behind her.
Something's up here.
So I opened the door, after putting the things away in the bathroom.
"What's going on missy?" I asked Miss 5.
"I don't know" she said, both looking and sounding worried.
"I don't know what happened" she said, gesturing to her tongue.
Interesting.
It was blue.
"What have you done miss?"
"NOTHING! I haven't done anything!!!"
Sure you haven't.
"I'm not going to get cross, I just want you to tell me the truth."
And then the look. That sad puppy dog eye look.
"I know you told me not to, but I was in the kitchen and there was the sugar and it was blue and now I can't clean my tongue. I'm sorry mummy."
And I picked her up and cuddled her.
And I thanked her for being honest. I reinforced that she had done the wrong thing, but praised her for being honest about it. I don't want her to get down the track and not tell me things. I want her to always be able to tell me things, even if it is from her being naughty.
Which is why it made tonight difficult when she upended a candle that had not survived the heatwave. And when I went out there and asked what the smell was, knowing full well what the smell was, that being huge amounts of melted candle, she said "I know I wasn't supposed to mummy and I'm sorry."
AGH.
Foiled.
She even gave me a hug.
Wax. Everywhere.
Kids. Tempting to remove everything from the house until they are old enough to know that you look with your EYES and not with your HANDS. And thanks to some friends for reminding me of that old adage our parents used to tell us…….
Still. I'm pretty impressed with her. It's a big step.
Oh and in other news, hospital first week in February for the ears. Pretty darn quick IMHO.
They'll be hearing in no time. And ignoring me in no time after that, rather than just not hearing me. Which, much as it sounds far from ideal, is certainly better than not being able to hear me.
Love my mini ones. Frustrating as they can be. Wouldn't trade them for the world.
Seriously.
It is 9.42pm at this time of writing, and currently it is 35 degrees outside.
Today the majority of the time was spent sitting at around 42 degrees, with a small venture into the 43 zone.
I am not built for this weather. I am vitamin D deficient because I don't go out in the sun. Because I hate it so much. Because I am pretty well albino and just burn. Plus it's hot. And makes you sweat. And is horrid.
I so prefer winter.
But we have to endure this next week of horrific temperatures in Melbourne, as do many South Aussies, and other places around this fabulously shaped country of ours.
Have you ever tried to eat a pancake until it was shaped like Australia? Tis a bit fun. Try it. You'll surprise yourself. In more ways than one.
So Miss 5 has been coming to work with me for the last few days. Why? They didn't get the numbers to run the holiday program. So there you go.
You know I never realised just how much she talked. I knew she could talk. I knew the others could talk too. But one on one, holy mothballs batman. She could talk the hind legs off a donkey.
And it was constant. At one stage I wondered if she was circular breathing. Then wondered about her future career as a trumpeter or didgeridoo player.
"Muuuum. Do you like my drawing?"
"Yes baby it's beautiful."
"You can see all the different colours and I did this here and that there and I think if I do another one I'll do that there and that there and, um, did you say it was morning tea time yet? No? Oh. Ok. I just thought I would check. Can I please have another puzzle thing? What are you doing? Can I see? Where's your boss? Why isn't he here yet? What was that noise? I think someone is on the roof. Stomping. Can I go and see?"
And that was the one conversation and took approximately 35 seconds.
Welcome. To. My. World.
Yesterday was a warm day too. Not like today. But still pretty hot. My bedroom is the only one without a fan, because I give the fans to the kids so they are more comfortable. So I opted to sleep on the sofa in the lounge room because it was far cooler.
I woke up at 5 with Miss 4 lying beside me, asleep. And wondered why I couldn't move in my dream. You know how you have those dreams that somehow incorporate reality? Like the dream where you can hear an alarm going off in the building down the street and you rush over to try and see what is going on and in your dream there are people breaking in and glass shattering and all sorts of whatnot until you realise that the alarm in your dream is actually the alarm on your phone set to wake you up for the day. Anyway. I was dreaming I was getting crushed up against a concrete wall. Hellooooo Miss 4.
We've had a few injuries of late. As is the norm. A few collisions with other children, pieces of furniture, air. The usual. The frozen peas have been employed on many an occasion.
I hate the ones you can see happening but are powerless to stop.
Miss 5 was climbing all over the sofa chairs. I asked her to stop because if she kept at it she would fall over the back.
She fell over the back. There were tears.
Master 3 was sitting on the edge of the sofa near the tv. I asked him to sit on the sofa on his bottom and not on the edge. He fell off. Hit the tv table and has a rather smashing looking diagonal bruise up his ribcage.
I love it when they do things they aren't supposed to, and there is no possible way of hiding that they have done those things. I don't love it love it, but it's kinda fun.
The other day we managed to score a free fairy floss maker. Sensational. I have always wanted one but was never able to justify it. Firstly because nobody makes fairy floss very often, secondly I don't really eat sweets and thirdly I don't like the kids eating sweets.
No matter, it was free, and much as I hate sweets, I will eat the odd tiny piece of fairy floss because it is massively cool.
So I decided to dye the sugar, after testing the machine out with the white.
I dyed two lots. One pink, one blue.
Then I left them on the trays to dry before breaking the sugar apart. Miss 5 was home alone with me, this being yesterday late afternoon right before we were to pick up the younger two.
I was doing something or other and saw her run past me to the bathroom and close the door behind her.
Interesting.
She yelled "You can't come in here!!!"
Interesting. Again.
"I have to" I said. "I have some things I need to put in there."
I wasn't lying. I did have things to put in there. My spray on sunscreen arrived from Catch of the Day (addicted) as well as some other thing I had to put in there. A lipstick or goodness knows what. Some random bench find.
She came running out of the bathroom and into her room, shutting the door behind her.
Something's up here.
So I opened the door, after putting the things away in the bathroom.
"What's going on missy?" I asked Miss 5.
"I don't know" she said, both looking and sounding worried.
"I don't know what happened" she said, gesturing to her tongue.
Interesting.
It was blue.
"What have you done miss?"
"NOTHING! I haven't done anything!!!"
Sure you haven't.
"I'm not going to get cross, I just want you to tell me the truth."
And then the look. That sad puppy dog eye look.
"I know you told me not to, but I was in the kitchen and there was the sugar and it was blue and now I can't clean my tongue. I'm sorry mummy."
And I picked her up and cuddled her.
And I thanked her for being honest. I reinforced that she had done the wrong thing, but praised her for being honest about it. I don't want her to get down the track and not tell me things. I want her to always be able to tell me things, even if it is from her being naughty.
Which is why it made tonight difficult when she upended a candle that had not survived the heatwave. And when I went out there and asked what the smell was, knowing full well what the smell was, that being huge amounts of melted candle, she said "I know I wasn't supposed to mummy and I'm sorry."
AGH.
Foiled.
She even gave me a hug.
Wax. Everywhere.
Kids. Tempting to remove everything from the house until they are old enough to know that you look with your EYES and not with your HANDS. And thanks to some friends for reminding me of that old adage our parents used to tell us…….
Still. I'm pretty impressed with her. It's a big step.
Oh and in other news, hospital first week in February for the ears. Pretty darn quick IMHO.
They'll be hearing in no time. And ignoring me in no time after that, rather than just not hearing me. Which, much as it sounds far from ideal, is certainly better than not being able to hear me.
Love my mini ones. Frustrating as they can be. Wouldn't trade them for the world.
Saturday 11 January 2014
I sat at the computer for "just a minute"
I did not intend to stay there for long, nor did I actually do what I had set out to do.
My intent, after the kids were picked up yesterday, was to get some shopping done, which I did, then come home and clean the house to within an inch of its life.
I did the shopping. Tick.
I got home. Tick.
I did not clean the house. Babow.
I sat down at the computer, as mentioned, for "just a minute". And I thought I would draw up a little calendar of events for the coming months, just so I could see, at a glance, what our plans were. I figured the easiest way to do this would be in excel, on a simple spreadsheet.
So down I sat, and started typing in the dates. And the months. And the days of the week.
And then I thought I may as well do that for the whole year, as it was just as easy, and cut and paste makes such jobs pretty quick.
Then I had a stroke of genius. If I put in my pay dates, for work and centrelink, I would always know what was coming in.
Cool.
Then I thought I should probably put in the childcare costs coming out, because, well, we need to be prepared for these things.
Long story short, four hours later I had constructed an enormously detailed budget for the entire year.
Accidentally.
Holy. Crap.
Now every time I have attempted to purposely do a budget in the past resulted in my throwing my hands up in the air in frustration and going off to make a coffee.
The "accidental budget" as it shall now be called, is fabulous. I am completely rapt.
Anyway, by doing the accidental budget up I lost four hours of the day that were to be spent doing other things, and once I had finished I realised I still had not run a few important errands, so buzzed off to do those, in time to come home and quickly get ready for my outing to see London Grammar.
A. Mazing. They were brilliant.
I went with a gorgeous friend and we went out for dinner first. It was a hot evening. Very hot. In hindsight we probably should have chosen a restaurant that was air conditioned.
Now I'll present you with a theory. Dips and bread. Nice? Yes. Nice. Cauliflower puree. Lovely. Sweet potato dip. Interesting, but very nice indeed. Chopped tomato in a balsamic sort of sauce. Um, that is not a dip.
And another thing. If we finish the bread and there is still a substantial amount of dip left you should be aware of two things, as a restaurant owner. Actually make that three.
1. Your dip to bread ratio is incorrect. Fix it.
2. Your customers will ask for more bread. If this occurs, do not balk and say "I don't think we can" because your customers will then say "It's bread. Surely you can manage. And yes, I'm serious."
3. Attempting to take said dip away with a smile, twice, will not be met with the same glee as your waiters are currently displaying at the joy of said dips being unfinished. Incomprehensible.
Seriously. If you are providing dips and bread, MAKE SURE THERE IS ENOUGH BREAD! Sorry to yell but I would have thought that was fairly obvious.
The food was great all up. There was just a tad lacking in the mathematical side of things.
And isn't that always the way.
So the concert tickets said it started at 8. At 7.50pm we lined up out the front. At around 8.05pm they opened the doors and up we went. I remarked how few people there were, but apparently the concert was sold out. Interesting.
And then on came a band of what appeared to be 12 year olds. This was further reinforced by the singer completing every song in a falsetto voice. Don't get me wrong, it was a very controlled falsetto. But every song sounded the same.
And word of wisdom little boy - if you are performing at a gig in front of heaps of people (which after some time there were), telling them that the last gig at which you played was in front of 3 people and your dad is probably not the best idea.
And off they went. It was after 10 before London Grammar came on. Is that normal?? Apparently so.
They were brilliant. Even better live than they are on my computer (yes, I know they aren't actually "on" my computer, but I wasn't quite sure how else to say it).
So it was an experience. My first rock/pop/whatever you call it concert since 1991 and Daryl Braithwaite.
I don't think I will be doing it again. My hips ached from standing for so long. And it was really really hot.
And another thing. I had on a sleeveless top because it was so hot. I am not a tanned person. Oh no, not at all. I am in fact vitamin D deficient, predominately I would assume because I simply do not go out in the sun.
And I have said on many occasions that I glow in the dark I'm that pale. Guess what? I did. Last night. My arms literally glowed from the ultraviolet lights. I was like a beacon on the dance floor. Astounding.
So we had some drinks there and before and after and then my friend's dear husband picked us up to take us home. And I didn't stop talking all the way home. And it was remarked that my little man may have some genetic link in that regard. Cool.
It was fun. It really was.
And today I slept in, got up, went to Carlton for lunch, lunch was lovely, then came home, pottered, cleaned a bit, and my babies came home.
I miss them so terribly when they aren't here, but do appreciate my time away from them.
Bedtime is still crap though.
Tonight's drama - Miss 5. As her school is not running her school holiday program due to lack of numbers, she will be coming to work with me. And I told her she could bring one soft toy with her.
Tonight she lay in bed and began to sob. And the sobs turned into bigger sobs. And then the waterworks followed. So in I went and asked her what was wrong, stroking her forehead then picking her up to give her a cuddle.
"I just can't decide. I don't know what to do. I just don't know which soft toy to take with me to your work because I just love them all so much."
And welcome to my world.
My little drama queen. Creates her very own drama from, well, from nothing. Although I daresay it isn't nothing to her, and that is what I need to remember. In her little world it IS important. So much as it sounds ridiculous to me (and really, it did, and it was after a lot of fartarsing around to get into bed in the first place so I was not exactly 'sympathetic' instinctively) it is important to her.
So we worked out that she could take a different toy each day.
Problem solved.
Go to sleep. And some time later, they did. All of them. One by one. And the house is now silent.
Though I did come back into the kitchen to see a moth flying directly at my head and was terrified I would scream out loud and wake them all up. I didn't. I flinched, then reached for the flyspray and drowned the moth.
And proceeded to self-medicate with a glass of red. Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
*shudder*
And tomorrow is another day. What shall we do….. (with a drunken sailor just popped into my head).
What would you do with a drunken sailor early in the morning?
Give him a coffee. That's the way.
My intent, after the kids were picked up yesterday, was to get some shopping done, which I did, then come home and clean the house to within an inch of its life.
I did the shopping. Tick.
I got home. Tick.
I did not clean the house. Babow.
I sat down at the computer, as mentioned, for "just a minute". And I thought I would draw up a little calendar of events for the coming months, just so I could see, at a glance, what our plans were. I figured the easiest way to do this would be in excel, on a simple spreadsheet.
So down I sat, and started typing in the dates. And the months. And the days of the week.
And then I thought I may as well do that for the whole year, as it was just as easy, and cut and paste makes such jobs pretty quick.
Then I had a stroke of genius. If I put in my pay dates, for work and centrelink, I would always know what was coming in.
Cool.
Then I thought I should probably put in the childcare costs coming out, because, well, we need to be prepared for these things.
Long story short, four hours later I had constructed an enormously detailed budget for the entire year.
Accidentally.
Holy. Crap.
Now every time I have attempted to purposely do a budget in the past resulted in my throwing my hands up in the air in frustration and going off to make a coffee.
The "accidental budget" as it shall now be called, is fabulous. I am completely rapt.
Anyway, by doing the accidental budget up I lost four hours of the day that were to be spent doing other things, and once I had finished I realised I still had not run a few important errands, so buzzed off to do those, in time to come home and quickly get ready for my outing to see London Grammar.
A. Mazing. They were brilliant.
I went with a gorgeous friend and we went out for dinner first. It was a hot evening. Very hot. In hindsight we probably should have chosen a restaurant that was air conditioned.
Now I'll present you with a theory. Dips and bread. Nice? Yes. Nice. Cauliflower puree. Lovely. Sweet potato dip. Interesting, but very nice indeed. Chopped tomato in a balsamic sort of sauce. Um, that is not a dip.
And another thing. If we finish the bread and there is still a substantial amount of dip left you should be aware of two things, as a restaurant owner. Actually make that three.
1. Your dip to bread ratio is incorrect. Fix it.
2. Your customers will ask for more bread. If this occurs, do not balk and say "I don't think we can" because your customers will then say "It's bread. Surely you can manage. And yes, I'm serious."
3. Attempting to take said dip away with a smile, twice, will not be met with the same glee as your waiters are currently displaying at the joy of said dips being unfinished. Incomprehensible.
Seriously. If you are providing dips and bread, MAKE SURE THERE IS ENOUGH BREAD! Sorry to yell but I would have thought that was fairly obvious.
The food was great all up. There was just a tad lacking in the mathematical side of things.
And isn't that always the way.
So the concert tickets said it started at 8. At 7.50pm we lined up out the front. At around 8.05pm they opened the doors and up we went. I remarked how few people there were, but apparently the concert was sold out. Interesting.
And then on came a band of what appeared to be 12 year olds. This was further reinforced by the singer completing every song in a falsetto voice. Don't get me wrong, it was a very controlled falsetto. But every song sounded the same.
And word of wisdom little boy - if you are performing at a gig in front of heaps of people (which after some time there were), telling them that the last gig at which you played was in front of 3 people and your dad is probably not the best idea.
And off they went. It was after 10 before London Grammar came on. Is that normal?? Apparently so.
They were brilliant. Even better live than they are on my computer (yes, I know they aren't actually "on" my computer, but I wasn't quite sure how else to say it).
So it was an experience. My first rock/pop/whatever you call it concert since 1991 and Daryl Braithwaite.
I don't think I will be doing it again. My hips ached from standing for so long. And it was really really hot.
And another thing. I had on a sleeveless top because it was so hot. I am not a tanned person. Oh no, not at all. I am in fact vitamin D deficient, predominately I would assume because I simply do not go out in the sun.
And I have said on many occasions that I glow in the dark I'm that pale. Guess what? I did. Last night. My arms literally glowed from the ultraviolet lights. I was like a beacon on the dance floor. Astounding.
So we had some drinks there and before and after and then my friend's dear husband picked us up to take us home. And I didn't stop talking all the way home. And it was remarked that my little man may have some genetic link in that regard. Cool.
It was fun. It really was.
And today I slept in, got up, went to Carlton for lunch, lunch was lovely, then came home, pottered, cleaned a bit, and my babies came home.
I miss them so terribly when they aren't here, but do appreciate my time away from them.
Bedtime is still crap though.
Tonight's drama - Miss 5. As her school is not running her school holiday program due to lack of numbers, she will be coming to work with me. And I told her she could bring one soft toy with her.
Tonight she lay in bed and began to sob. And the sobs turned into bigger sobs. And then the waterworks followed. So in I went and asked her what was wrong, stroking her forehead then picking her up to give her a cuddle.
"I just can't decide. I don't know what to do. I just don't know which soft toy to take with me to your work because I just love them all so much."
And welcome to my world.
My little drama queen. Creates her very own drama from, well, from nothing. Although I daresay it isn't nothing to her, and that is what I need to remember. In her little world it IS important. So much as it sounds ridiculous to me (and really, it did, and it was after a lot of fartarsing around to get into bed in the first place so I was not exactly 'sympathetic' instinctively) it is important to her.
So we worked out that she could take a different toy each day.
Problem solved.
Go to sleep. And some time later, they did. All of them. One by one. And the house is now silent.
Though I did come back into the kitchen to see a moth flying directly at my head and was terrified I would scream out loud and wake them all up. I didn't. I flinched, then reached for the flyspray and drowned the moth.
And proceeded to self-medicate with a glass of red. Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
*shudder*
And tomorrow is another day. What shall we do….. (with a drunken sailor just popped into my head).
What would you do with a drunken sailor early in the morning?
Give him a coffee. That's the way.
Thursday 9 January 2014
They say girls can talk.
They haven't met my son.
From the moment he wakes there is noise. Constant. And if it isn't "toot toot" or "beep beep" or "brooooooooom" it's conversations. Lots. And lots. Of conversations.
"Muuuuuuuum. The postman's coming today!"
"Yes, yes he is."
"Why?"
Seriously.
"Mummy why is the postman not here?"
"Because it is 7 o'clock in the morning and he doesn't come until later."
"Oh. But I'm looking out the window and I can't see him."
"That's because he hasn't come yet and won't be coming till later."
"Oh. He's still not here."
"No, no he's not. And he won't be for a little while. Like I told you. Please close the curtains."
"I caaaaaaaan't!! I TOLD YOU! I am WAITING. For the postman. He isn't here yet."
Sigh.
And so it goes on. And on. And on. Incessantly. About anything. And everything.
"Mum, did you find my train?"
"I didn't know you had lost your train."
"Yeah, the noisy one."
"I'll have a look for it once I finish the dishes."
"Ok."
Pause. For about 3.5 nanoseconds.
"Did you find it yet?"
"I haven't started looking, I'm doing the dishes."
"Oh. Ok."
4 seconds.
"Did you find it yet?"
"No."
"How come? Did you look?"
"No, I'm doing the dishes, my hands are in the sink and they are wet. I told you I would look after I finished the dishes."
"Oh. BEEP BEEP EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" *runs to next room with arms outspread*
And people wonder why I don't watch tv. Or have the radio on in the car when I'm alone.
Life with my little folk is a veritable marathon. And without the downtime to let the body recover, it just wouldn't. That is my ears. They just can't cope with it sometimes.
Speaking of ears, Master 3 has medicine he has to take for his bazillionth ear infection. And ear drops too. He does not like the medicine. He tells me this every time he has it. And he does that little involuntary shudder and face screw up after he has it too. Which makes me laugh every time. Miss 4 did the same with her last lot of medicine. It is seriously hilarious to watch. He doesn't love the ear drops either actually. He screams. Loudly. But only for the time it takes to put the three drops in. Afterwards he's good as gold.
I tried to explain to him that the drops worked by helping to patch his burst eardrum up just like I will patch up his best jeans that he managed to put a hole in the knee of.
I've enjoyed spending some time one on one with Miss 5. Today we cooked. I made up massive batches of bolognaise sauce and pumpkin soup, predominantly because I have a neighbour who is ill at the moment and I was taking some over for her to pop in the freezer so she didn't have to cook every night if she didn't feel up to it. But also because I usually do cook ups for our own freezer on a fairly regular basis. Bolognaise and pumpkin soup are stock standard favourites. Every now and then I'll do sausage rolls. Or other sorts of soup. Or stews.
I have a bit of a cheat with regards to food. I'll let you in on it. I probably have already, but, well, sue me.
I make a lot of soups actually. And freeze them in those little takeout containers. Not the standard size, but the bigger ones. And I make a lot of stews and bolognaise.
And when I thaw them out I will mix and match. So my bolognaise (which already contains a huge amount of grated cauliflower, carrot and finely chopped cabbage and onion) is mixed with one of my home made vegetable soups. So the kids think they are eating a meat and pasta dish, when in reality it has more vegetables than a meat and three veg dinner. Hehe. Crafty.
That said I'm pretty lucky with the kids. They are great eaters. Crap sleepers. But great eaters.
I guess you have to have one or other. Those people who have both are going to go through hell when they are teenagers. It is parent karma. Or something.
Miss 5 vacuumed today. As well as helping with the cooking. And I didn't even ask her to. She asked me if she could. I said yes.
And do you know what? She did a top job. Yes there were a few bits and pieces she missed but do you know what? I don't care. I let them be. Because if I had have jumped in and "finished" it then she may have thought she didn't do a great job. Just like when they make their own beds I have to resist the urge to fix them up to be neat and tidy. It is hideously difficult. But I do it. Because if they think they haven't done it right then they are far less likely to do it again.
Mind games. No parent should operate without them.
Good ones though. Obviously.
Tomorrow evening I am going to a concert. Tis my first concert in a long time. Don't get me wrong, I have been to heaps of classical concerts, and musicals and other shows and orchestral and operatic and ballet performances. But modern 'pop' kinda music. Um. No.
The first concert I went to was Daryl Braithwaite. He was great. It was a very very long time ago.
The second concert I went to hasn't happened yet. It's tomorrow. So yes, um, not quite my thing.
So I have the day to myself tomorrow and I anticipate there will be a decluttering frenzy taking place. I resolve to rid the house of at least 4 bags. Books, toys, clothes, you name it.
I'll do it. Mark my words. For sanity's sake. I don't like clutter. I like it even less when it is strewn around the house willy nilly by three small humans whose arms at times are apparently painted on.
So yes. What does one wear to a concert anyway?
Better google…….
From the moment he wakes there is noise. Constant. And if it isn't "toot toot" or "beep beep" or "brooooooooom" it's conversations. Lots. And lots. Of conversations.
"Muuuuuuuum. The postman's coming today!"
"Yes, yes he is."
"Why?"
Seriously.
"Mummy why is the postman not here?"
"Because it is 7 o'clock in the morning and he doesn't come until later."
"Oh. But I'm looking out the window and I can't see him."
"That's because he hasn't come yet and won't be coming till later."
"Oh. He's still not here."
"No, no he's not. And he won't be for a little while. Like I told you. Please close the curtains."
"I caaaaaaaan't!! I TOLD YOU! I am WAITING. For the postman. He isn't here yet."
Sigh.
And so it goes on. And on. And on. Incessantly. About anything. And everything.
"Mum, did you find my train?"
"I didn't know you had lost your train."
"Yeah, the noisy one."
"I'll have a look for it once I finish the dishes."
"Ok."
Pause. For about 3.5 nanoseconds.
"Did you find it yet?"
"I haven't started looking, I'm doing the dishes."
"Oh. Ok."
4 seconds.
"Did you find it yet?"
"No."
"How come? Did you look?"
"No, I'm doing the dishes, my hands are in the sink and they are wet. I told you I would look after I finished the dishes."
"Oh. BEEP BEEP EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" *runs to next room with arms outspread*
And people wonder why I don't watch tv. Or have the radio on in the car when I'm alone.
Life with my little folk is a veritable marathon. And without the downtime to let the body recover, it just wouldn't. That is my ears. They just can't cope with it sometimes.
Speaking of ears, Master 3 has medicine he has to take for his bazillionth ear infection. And ear drops too. He does not like the medicine. He tells me this every time he has it. And he does that little involuntary shudder and face screw up after he has it too. Which makes me laugh every time. Miss 4 did the same with her last lot of medicine. It is seriously hilarious to watch. He doesn't love the ear drops either actually. He screams. Loudly. But only for the time it takes to put the three drops in. Afterwards he's good as gold.
I tried to explain to him that the drops worked by helping to patch his burst eardrum up just like I will patch up his best jeans that he managed to put a hole in the knee of.
I've enjoyed spending some time one on one with Miss 5. Today we cooked. I made up massive batches of bolognaise sauce and pumpkin soup, predominantly because I have a neighbour who is ill at the moment and I was taking some over for her to pop in the freezer so she didn't have to cook every night if she didn't feel up to it. But also because I usually do cook ups for our own freezer on a fairly regular basis. Bolognaise and pumpkin soup are stock standard favourites. Every now and then I'll do sausage rolls. Or other sorts of soup. Or stews.
I have a bit of a cheat with regards to food. I'll let you in on it. I probably have already, but, well, sue me.
I make a lot of soups actually. And freeze them in those little takeout containers. Not the standard size, but the bigger ones. And I make a lot of stews and bolognaise.
And when I thaw them out I will mix and match. So my bolognaise (which already contains a huge amount of grated cauliflower, carrot and finely chopped cabbage and onion) is mixed with one of my home made vegetable soups. So the kids think they are eating a meat and pasta dish, when in reality it has more vegetables than a meat and three veg dinner. Hehe. Crafty.
That said I'm pretty lucky with the kids. They are great eaters. Crap sleepers. But great eaters.
I guess you have to have one or other. Those people who have both are going to go through hell when they are teenagers. It is parent karma. Or something.
Miss 5 vacuumed today. As well as helping with the cooking. And I didn't even ask her to. She asked me if she could. I said yes.
And do you know what? She did a top job. Yes there were a few bits and pieces she missed but do you know what? I don't care. I let them be. Because if I had have jumped in and "finished" it then she may have thought she didn't do a great job. Just like when they make their own beds I have to resist the urge to fix them up to be neat and tidy. It is hideously difficult. But I do it. Because if they think they haven't done it right then they are far less likely to do it again.
Mind games. No parent should operate without them.
Good ones though. Obviously.
Tomorrow evening I am going to a concert. Tis my first concert in a long time. Don't get me wrong, I have been to heaps of classical concerts, and musicals and other shows and orchestral and operatic and ballet performances. But modern 'pop' kinda music. Um. No.
The first concert I went to was Daryl Braithwaite. He was great. It was a very very long time ago.
The second concert I went to hasn't happened yet. It's tomorrow. So yes, um, not quite my thing.
So I have the day to myself tomorrow and I anticipate there will be a decluttering frenzy taking place. I resolve to rid the house of at least 4 bags. Books, toys, clothes, you name it.
I'll do it. Mark my words. For sanity's sake. I don't like clutter. I like it even less when it is strewn around the house willy nilly by three small humans whose arms at times are apparently painted on.
So yes. What does one wear to a concert anyway?
Better google…….
Tuesday 7 January 2014
A day in the city.
That is what my beautiful girls and I had today.
Some time ago I entered a competition to win tickets to see a Disney Nature movie called "Chimpanzee" through the Zoos Victoria Facebook site.
I didn't win.
I did however receive a message some weeks after the draw to say that they did have some spare tickets to which I was welcome and I only needed to email them.
Well I was on it like flies on, um, my food at a bbq. LOL.
And I received the email confirming. The session was to be today, January 7, at 10.30am at ACMI.
Fabulous. I was massively excited. Family pass. 4 tickets. Me and the three. Woohoo!!
So I set up the computer and brought the kids over to watch the trailer, explaining to them that I had won tickets. The girls were enthralled. After 13 seconds Master 3 didn't like it and walked off.
The film was 78 minutes.
He lasted 13 seconds.
I figured it was safer to leave him out of the equation. He went to daycare today.
So it was a chick day. Chicks in the city. Fabulous.
So we finally got out the door (don't make me relive it) and Master 3 hit daycare.
Mini chicks and I hit the road to go to town. Now being that it was peak hour I figured we would need ample time to get there. Apparently not. Record time.
So we had time to kill. Okay then. Babycino time. We made the chilly trek to Maccas and I got the kidlets a babycino and a massive muffin to share, and I got coffee. Joy. Needed that.
I'll try to be brief. I could seriously write an entire book about today. I won't.
The movie. It was gorgeous. Possibly a tad long for the age group I brought with me, but great. I had a few teary moments too (I am soft, sue me).
And seated down the end of the row was Alan Brough. Some of you might not know who that is. If you watch Spicks and Specks you will have erupted into smiles and joy and rapture and "wow". So as we were leaving I confirmed his identity (nothing worse than saying something to the wrong person) and told him how much I appreciated the entertainment he had offered for the last however many years.
And do you know what? He said thank you, and that it was just a lovely thing to say. I always thought he was a nice bloke, but that just reaffirmed it. The fact that his little one was seriously adorable and didn't stop talking throughout the film had nothing to do with it, but was brilliant. "Can Monkey sit over there? I want to swap seats with you. Is that Oscar? What's Oscar doing? Oh Scar. Scarey Scar. Daddy. Daddy. Can I sit there. No. I don't WANT to go home." I guess you had to be there. But truly adorable. And hilarious at the same time.
The National Gallery was closed today. I was peeved. Not because it was closed. Well, yes because it was closed. But because Miss 5 was "busting" and we had it in our sights. So when we got there and they said it was closed it meant she would be walking oddly for even longer. So to the Arts Centre we went and visited their facility.
I might add here, we visited public facilities the grand total of 8 times today. Don't ask.
For lunch I gave the girls the option of anything they wanted. It isn't often we get the chance to spend such time together and I wanted to make the most of it. Miss 5 chose a tomato and lettuce sandwich and a fruit box. Miss 4 chose a ham and chicken sandwich and a fruit box.
There. You. Go.
I had sushi. Well, california rolls. Mock sushi. The girls would laugh every time I got a hit of wasabi. Apparently there is a face I pull….
We then spent the next few hours at the gallery at Federation Square. Well. I tell you. I have never been there before but I will be returning. It wasn't quite the NGV on St Kilda Road, but it was something!!!!! And there were many levels, and many different things to keep the mini chicks amused. Outside of the gallery there were also studio spaces related to the moving picture (as we went to ACMI to see the film) which were just fascinating.
So the day was well spent.
We picked up Master 3 at 4 and then it was off to the doctor. Swimming was supposed to start weeks ago but because of ear infections could not. So today was to get clearance for swimming.
That said, Master 3 had a horror night last night and I actually thought he may have perforated his eardrum. Have seen it with both the girls and it was pretty well spot on. Fine this morning though, as is usually the case.
And yep. I was right. Perforated eardrum. Ears still infected. Despite antibiotics, this the 6th ear infection in 3 months. So yes, we do have an ENT referral. And an audiogram too.
Miss 5 also has glue ear so referral number 2.
At least one of my minis got a clean bill of health. Yay for Miss 4!
So even though we had a doctor's visit culminating in a burst eardrum, recurrent ear infections, and 2 referrals to get grommets, that isn't a bad thing. Because they will help. Of that I have no doubt.
And the day was brilliant.
And do you know what? I could not have been more proud of my babies today. The girls were fabulous for 7 hours out and about, save for one incident with Miss 4 and a dropped bottle of water which lasted approximately 30 seconds, and an episode at the paper shoe making station at the gallery (long story) by Miss 5 when the wrong sticker was used to decorate said paper shoe, lasting again approximately 30 seconds.
They talked a lot at the doctor but didn't misbehave.
They. Are. Fabulous.
And they are mine.
And I completely and totally and utterly and unreservedly adore them.
Some time ago I entered a competition to win tickets to see a Disney Nature movie called "Chimpanzee" through the Zoos Victoria Facebook site.
I didn't win.
I did however receive a message some weeks after the draw to say that they did have some spare tickets to which I was welcome and I only needed to email them.
Well I was on it like flies on, um, my food at a bbq. LOL.
And I received the email confirming. The session was to be today, January 7, at 10.30am at ACMI.
Fabulous. I was massively excited. Family pass. 4 tickets. Me and the three. Woohoo!!
So I set up the computer and brought the kids over to watch the trailer, explaining to them that I had won tickets. The girls were enthralled. After 13 seconds Master 3 didn't like it and walked off.
The film was 78 minutes.
He lasted 13 seconds.
I figured it was safer to leave him out of the equation. He went to daycare today.
So it was a chick day. Chicks in the city. Fabulous.
So we finally got out the door (don't make me relive it) and Master 3 hit daycare.
Mini chicks and I hit the road to go to town. Now being that it was peak hour I figured we would need ample time to get there. Apparently not. Record time.
So we had time to kill. Okay then. Babycino time. We made the chilly trek to Maccas and I got the kidlets a babycino and a massive muffin to share, and I got coffee. Joy. Needed that.
I'll try to be brief. I could seriously write an entire book about today. I won't.
The movie. It was gorgeous. Possibly a tad long for the age group I brought with me, but great. I had a few teary moments too (I am soft, sue me).
And seated down the end of the row was Alan Brough. Some of you might not know who that is. If you watch Spicks and Specks you will have erupted into smiles and joy and rapture and "wow". So as we were leaving I confirmed his identity (nothing worse than saying something to the wrong person) and told him how much I appreciated the entertainment he had offered for the last however many years.
And do you know what? He said thank you, and that it was just a lovely thing to say. I always thought he was a nice bloke, but that just reaffirmed it. The fact that his little one was seriously adorable and didn't stop talking throughout the film had nothing to do with it, but was brilliant. "Can Monkey sit over there? I want to swap seats with you. Is that Oscar? What's Oscar doing? Oh Scar. Scarey Scar. Daddy. Daddy. Can I sit there. No. I don't WANT to go home." I guess you had to be there. But truly adorable. And hilarious at the same time.
The National Gallery was closed today. I was peeved. Not because it was closed. Well, yes because it was closed. But because Miss 5 was "busting" and we had it in our sights. So when we got there and they said it was closed it meant she would be walking oddly for even longer. So to the Arts Centre we went and visited their facility.
I might add here, we visited public facilities the grand total of 8 times today. Don't ask.
For lunch I gave the girls the option of anything they wanted. It isn't often we get the chance to spend such time together and I wanted to make the most of it. Miss 5 chose a tomato and lettuce sandwich and a fruit box. Miss 4 chose a ham and chicken sandwich and a fruit box.
There. You. Go.
I had sushi. Well, california rolls. Mock sushi. The girls would laugh every time I got a hit of wasabi. Apparently there is a face I pull….
We then spent the next few hours at the gallery at Federation Square. Well. I tell you. I have never been there before but I will be returning. It wasn't quite the NGV on St Kilda Road, but it was something!!!!! And there were many levels, and many different things to keep the mini chicks amused. Outside of the gallery there were also studio spaces related to the moving picture (as we went to ACMI to see the film) which were just fascinating.
So the day was well spent.
We picked up Master 3 at 4 and then it was off to the doctor. Swimming was supposed to start weeks ago but because of ear infections could not. So today was to get clearance for swimming.
That said, Master 3 had a horror night last night and I actually thought he may have perforated his eardrum. Have seen it with both the girls and it was pretty well spot on. Fine this morning though, as is usually the case.
And yep. I was right. Perforated eardrum. Ears still infected. Despite antibiotics, this the 6th ear infection in 3 months. So yes, we do have an ENT referral. And an audiogram too.
Miss 5 also has glue ear so referral number 2.
At least one of my minis got a clean bill of health. Yay for Miss 4!
So even though we had a doctor's visit culminating in a burst eardrum, recurrent ear infections, and 2 referrals to get grommets, that isn't a bad thing. Because they will help. Of that I have no doubt.
And the day was brilliant.
And do you know what? I could not have been more proud of my babies today. The girls were fabulous for 7 hours out and about, save for one incident with Miss 4 and a dropped bottle of water which lasted approximately 30 seconds, and an episode at the paper shoe making station at the gallery (long story) by Miss 5 when the wrong sticker was used to decorate said paper shoe, lasting again approximately 30 seconds.
They talked a lot at the doctor but didn't misbehave.
They. Are. Fabulous.
And they are mine.
And I completely and totally and utterly and unreservedly adore them.
Monday 6 January 2014
One on one time
is rare. For me anyway. In partnered relationships there is a bit more scope for one on one time with each child to occur, because there is always someone who is able to take the others. Not always willing. But technically able.
Anyway, without entering into any form of debate about the matter, because that is not the intent here, I will simply state that for me, as a part-time working single parent to three children, it is almost impossible to have one on one time with the kids unless they are ill and missing school or daycare, and thus I am missing work. And they are ill. So not exactly "quality" time so to speak.
So. Today was a rarity. Miss 5 spent the day with me. Just me and her. Because the other two went back to daycare. Why? Because they have had the last 2 weeks off and I only get 2 weeks a year at discount rate (which is still only a 25% discount). So I'm paying for it, they're going. Simple.
Today we got heaps done. First stop was obviously daycare. Dropped small ones off then we were on our way. Where? To get a coffee and a babycino of course.
We duly did that. Miss 5 beamed throughout the entire experience because I also let her choose anything she wanted from the food case. She chose a berry, pear and cheese cake. And did she enjoy it…. every mouthful created a smile wider than the horizon. And I just sat there and watched her, I myself smiling every bit as wide as my darling daughter.
After that it was time to hit DFO. Miss 5 needed some runners and I needed some summer clothes. I worked this out when it was 30 odd degrees the other day and the closest I had to summer clothes was a pair of leggings. Not quite suitable.
So today I bought a dress. A summer dress. I don't buy dresses. But this dress, well, as soon as I put it on I just knew it was right. I tried on a few others and there were little questions in my mind. And I tried on the dress dress again and just had to get it. I also bought a skirt which will be incredibly useful (just a long flowy thing but really my style). Miss 5 dutifully stayed with me in the teeny tiny change room as I tried these things on.
Right before this we had found a children's shoe store so we tried on numerous pairs of runners for Miss 5. Some were too tight. Some were "not very good". Others were "nice but no". And then out came the silver sparkly ones. She tried them on. She smiled. They were "good, but too tight because I can't get them off". I suggested she undo them first. Ah yes, success. And so shoes were purchased.
Next stop Westfield. Why? Um, I truly can't remember. Oh yes, that's it. Birthday presents and anniversary presents and a calendar and a few other bits and pieces.
We had some success. Birthday present - check. Calendar - check. And a really nice one too - pictures of France, and not just one big picture at the top, but lots of little pictures for each day. Lovely. So nice to see such an aesthetically pleasing calendar. Even more so being that it was 40% off. Nice.
And so we left, and went home. Mail collected, sandwich made. And a nagging feeling in my stomach that we had to go to a different store. I have no idea why. But I couldn't shake it. Miss 5 didn't want to go. She was quite happy staying home. I asked her four times. Not all at once obviously. At intervals.
Same answer. Always.
"No."
Hmm.
"What say I get you one of those nice drinks if we go?"
"Yay let's go!!!!!"
I bribed. Sue me. It worked. I got to go to the shop.
And now I know why. Because the perfect anniversary present was there for my folks. And that is why you should always listen to your gut. Because you have no idea what it may be telling you at the time; it may only become apparent later. And if you never listen and never give it a chance to reveal its secret, you will just never know. And if you do, well, what fun you will have.
Then home to sort some washing, potter around with some household tasks, then bolt back to get the other 2.
Usual events for the evening; dinner, bit of tv, bit of a play with Thomas and the other engines. And for the record, Miss 4 now knows that the battery operated Thomas engines that are able to pull along the other engines should not be placed close to one's head if one has long hair. And yes, we did have to use scissors.
Bedtime ballet once again this evening.
Fabulous. I have not got the best sleepers.
But at least they eat well.
Small mercies.
Anyway, without entering into any form of debate about the matter, because that is not the intent here, I will simply state that for me, as a part-time working single parent to three children, it is almost impossible to have one on one time with the kids unless they are ill and missing school or daycare, and thus I am missing work. And they are ill. So not exactly "quality" time so to speak.
So. Today was a rarity. Miss 5 spent the day with me. Just me and her. Because the other two went back to daycare. Why? Because they have had the last 2 weeks off and I only get 2 weeks a year at discount rate (which is still only a 25% discount). So I'm paying for it, they're going. Simple.
Today we got heaps done. First stop was obviously daycare. Dropped small ones off then we were on our way. Where? To get a coffee and a babycino of course.
We duly did that. Miss 5 beamed throughout the entire experience because I also let her choose anything she wanted from the food case. She chose a berry, pear and cheese cake. And did she enjoy it…. every mouthful created a smile wider than the horizon. And I just sat there and watched her, I myself smiling every bit as wide as my darling daughter.
After that it was time to hit DFO. Miss 5 needed some runners and I needed some summer clothes. I worked this out when it was 30 odd degrees the other day and the closest I had to summer clothes was a pair of leggings. Not quite suitable.
So today I bought a dress. A summer dress. I don't buy dresses. But this dress, well, as soon as I put it on I just knew it was right. I tried on a few others and there were little questions in my mind. And I tried on the dress dress again and just had to get it. I also bought a skirt which will be incredibly useful (just a long flowy thing but really my style). Miss 5 dutifully stayed with me in the teeny tiny change room as I tried these things on.
Right before this we had found a children's shoe store so we tried on numerous pairs of runners for Miss 5. Some were too tight. Some were "not very good". Others were "nice but no". And then out came the silver sparkly ones. She tried them on. She smiled. They were "good, but too tight because I can't get them off". I suggested she undo them first. Ah yes, success. And so shoes were purchased.
Next stop Westfield. Why? Um, I truly can't remember. Oh yes, that's it. Birthday presents and anniversary presents and a calendar and a few other bits and pieces.
We had some success. Birthday present - check. Calendar - check. And a really nice one too - pictures of France, and not just one big picture at the top, but lots of little pictures for each day. Lovely. So nice to see such an aesthetically pleasing calendar. Even more so being that it was 40% off. Nice.
And so we left, and went home. Mail collected, sandwich made. And a nagging feeling in my stomach that we had to go to a different store. I have no idea why. But I couldn't shake it. Miss 5 didn't want to go. She was quite happy staying home. I asked her four times. Not all at once obviously. At intervals.
Same answer. Always.
"No."
Hmm.
"What say I get you one of those nice drinks if we go?"
"Yay let's go!!!!!"
I bribed. Sue me. It worked. I got to go to the shop.
And now I know why. Because the perfect anniversary present was there for my folks. And that is why you should always listen to your gut. Because you have no idea what it may be telling you at the time; it may only become apparent later. And if you never listen and never give it a chance to reveal its secret, you will just never know. And if you do, well, what fun you will have.
Then home to sort some washing, potter around with some household tasks, then bolt back to get the other 2.
Usual events for the evening; dinner, bit of tv, bit of a play with Thomas and the other engines. And for the record, Miss 4 now knows that the battery operated Thomas engines that are able to pull along the other engines should not be placed close to one's head if one has long hair. And yes, we did have to use scissors.
Bedtime ballet once again this evening.
Fabulous. I have not got the best sleepers.
But at least they eat well.
Small mercies.
Saturday 4 January 2014
On be heighties.
"I beg your pardon?"
"On be heighties!" Miss 4 pronounced with great gusto as she placed her barbie doll at the helm of the barbie cruise ship and placed the flag atop the rails.
What. The actual. Hell.
Ooooooh. Ok.
"Do you mean Arrggh me hearties??"
Miss 4 looks at me stoically.
"Well I say on be heighties. ON BE HEIGHTIES!!!!!!"
Good on her for sticking to her ground.
Today was a weird one really. The kids were, well, I am not quite sure how to put it. Possessed comes to mind.
I had promised them we would go to a new McDonalds that has opened up not far from us, and we had intended to go last night but didn't so I said I would take them today.
We nearly didn't go. That was the behaviour this morning. Naughty? Not so much. Obstinate and ignorant? Ding ding ding, give the man a cigar.
After much cajoling and god only knows what else, we finally managed to get out of the house.
We hit the Maccas. I don't like McDonalds. As a general rule. But seriously, the chips were fabulous. I mean, seriously fabulous. How can chips taste so different between places? I put it down to the oil in which they were fried. But holy moly, they were amazing. And I'm not even a huge fan. But I couldn't stop eating them. They were brilliant.
And then there was the play area. It is a castle. With a big twirly slide. The kids went up. And down. And up. And down. Ad. Nauseum.
Every one of them hit their head at some stage throughout the visit. There were tears. But there were far more laughs.
I laughed a lot actually. I love plonking myself at the bottom of a tube slide and seeing the faces of my babies as they pop out of the tube down the end, and hearing the gleeful laughs as they skip off up to embark upon the slide again. And again. And again. I even managed to snap a photo of Master 3 in his happy skip mood. It appears that he is levitating. Taking into account events later in the day, I would not put it past him that levitating he was. Possession does strange things to children.
But I digress. The visit to the new Maccas was great. The kids had fun. I had fun.
And then I decided to take them to the supermarket.
Big babow.
What. The hell. Was I thinking.
Yes, that's the way, get them hyped up at a playground and then expect them to behave for half an hour while you shop for essentials. Lesson 1. Babow. Again. Fail.
But I trucked on. Even though Master 3 decided he only wanted to walk backwards. Or hang off the trolley, laughing insanely and throwing his head back, knocking things off the shelf when he did. And for the record no, he is not allowed to stand on the side of the trolley. He does however jump there randomly. At which time I stop the trolley and warn him of the possible effects of his continued presence on said trolley. At which time he looks at me, throws his head back, laughs insanely and jumps off, running down the aisle. Fabulous.
The journey was not supremely successful. It just so happened that there were several older couples shopping today. And by older I mean much older. When Master 3 put his head down, hands out front as if to charge and started running, I honestly thought the fellow behind the trolley Master 3 was aimed towards was going to try to throw said trolley against the shelves. He did become quite vocal. Not in a nasty way. But still.
And there were discussions amongst the kids. Of an animated variety. About who would hold the shopping list. Yes. Our lives are that exciting.
So we had to alternate. Every 2 aisles we would swap who would hold the shopping list. And who would take the item off the shelf. And seriously. By aisle 9 I lost it and told them all I was going to get a new naughty list and put them all on it. This brought the cries of "nooooooooo" and "I'll be goooooood".
Yeah. Nah. They weren't.
I couldn't get out of there fast enough. In fact, by the end I was running. I had put Master 3 in the little seating part, he was talking, I was just saying "stop", the girls were doing who knows what and I was telling them to keep up because I just wanted to get out of there. I just. Wanted. To. Get. Out. Of. There.
That was me telling myself to breathe.
I do believe that this most recent shopping trip contained the most words ever spoken in that space of time by my three children combined.
Do not take children to McDonalds and expect to survive grocery shopping afterwards.
There endeth the lesson.
"On be heighties!" Miss 4 pronounced with great gusto as she placed her barbie doll at the helm of the barbie cruise ship and placed the flag atop the rails.
What. The actual. Hell.
Ooooooh. Ok.
"Do you mean Arrggh me hearties??"
Miss 4 looks at me stoically.
"Well I say on be heighties. ON BE HEIGHTIES!!!!!!"
Good on her for sticking to her ground.
Today was a weird one really. The kids were, well, I am not quite sure how to put it. Possessed comes to mind.
I had promised them we would go to a new McDonalds that has opened up not far from us, and we had intended to go last night but didn't so I said I would take them today.
We nearly didn't go. That was the behaviour this morning. Naughty? Not so much. Obstinate and ignorant? Ding ding ding, give the man a cigar.
After much cajoling and god only knows what else, we finally managed to get out of the house.
We hit the Maccas. I don't like McDonalds. As a general rule. But seriously, the chips were fabulous. I mean, seriously fabulous. How can chips taste so different between places? I put it down to the oil in which they were fried. But holy moly, they were amazing. And I'm not even a huge fan. But I couldn't stop eating them. They were brilliant.
And then there was the play area. It is a castle. With a big twirly slide. The kids went up. And down. And up. And down. Ad. Nauseum.
Every one of them hit their head at some stage throughout the visit. There were tears. But there were far more laughs.
I laughed a lot actually. I love plonking myself at the bottom of a tube slide and seeing the faces of my babies as they pop out of the tube down the end, and hearing the gleeful laughs as they skip off up to embark upon the slide again. And again. And again. I even managed to snap a photo of Master 3 in his happy skip mood. It appears that he is levitating. Taking into account events later in the day, I would not put it past him that levitating he was. Possession does strange things to children.
But I digress. The visit to the new Maccas was great. The kids had fun. I had fun.
And then I decided to take them to the supermarket.
Big babow.
What. The hell. Was I thinking.
Yes, that's the way, get them hyped up at a playground and then expect them to behave for half an hour while you shop for essentials. Lesson 1. Babow. Again. Fail.
But I trucked on. Even though Master 3 decided he only wanted to walk backwards. Or hang off the trolley, laughing insanely and throwing his head back, knocking things off the shelf when he did. And for the record no, he is not allowed to stand on the side of the trolley. He does however jump there randomly. At which time I stop the trolley and warn him of the possible effects of his continued presence on said trolley. At which time he looks at me, throws his head back, laughs insanely and jumps off, running down the aisle. Fabulous.
The journey was not supremely successful. It just so happened that there were several older couples shopping today. And by older I mean much older. When Master 3 put his head down, hands out front as if to charge and started running, I honestly thought the fellow behind the trolley Master 3 was aimed towards was going to try to throw said trolley against the shelves. He did become quite vocal. Not in a nasty way. But still.
And there were discussions amongst the kids. Of an animated variety. About who would hold the shopping list. Yes. Our lives are that exciting.
So we had to alternate. Every 2 aisles we would swap who would hold the shopping list. And who would take the item off the shelf. And seriously. By aisle 9 I lost it and told them all I was going to get a new naughty list and put them all on it. This brought the cries of "nooooooooo" and "I'll be goooooood".
Yeah. Nah. They weren't.
I couldn't get out of there fast enough. In fact, by the end I was running. I had put Master 3 in the little seating part, he was talking, I was just saying "stop", the girls were doing who knows what and I was telling them to keep up because I just wanted to get out of there. I just. Wanted. To. Get. Out. Of. There.
That was me telling myself to breathe.
I do believe that this most recent shopping trip contained the most words ever spoken in that space of time by my three children combined.
Do not take children to McDonalds and expect to survive grocery shopping afterwards.
There endeth the lesson.
Friday 3 January 2014
At 1.10pm this afternoon
I went to check on my darling old dog for the billionth time in the last four or five days.
And something happened.
He ran up to me. He nuzzled into my leg. He sneezed, which is what he does sometimes when he first gets himself all excited about having a cuddle with mum.
For the first time in weeks I saw my old boy.
If I didn't believe in miracles before, I do now. New Year's Eve was spent lying beside my darling baby on the concrete verandah out the back, stroking his head and back and telling him how much I loved him, tears streaming down my face the entire time.
The next few days were spent constantly checking him, tending to him as needed, applying powders and sprays and hoping he would eat, all the while telling him just how much he meant to me and how much I loved him.
Maybe it was love that brought him back. I wouldn't doubt it for a second if you said it was. Because the amount of love I feel for that hairy little man, if quantified electrically, could power the entire globe. He is part of our little family, and will be forever.
And so today I cried tears of sheer joy and happiness. Though the kids can't quite understand what has gone on, they understand a little. They understand love extends to animals. They understand that impending loss creates sadness in those who may experience that loss. I wouldn't expect them to understand a great deal more, nor do I want them to just yet. There is time for that in the future.
For now, we have the now. This afternoon they all played in the back yard. And they were able to give my lil man cuddles and pats, and laugh as he licked their hands playfully.
The status quo has been restored. For now. But I feel like I have been given a second chance to spend more time with my boy.
And I will gladly take that. As will he.
And to restore the status quo once again, I would like to offer a community service announcement. Do not allow a child to hold a container of sherbet if you have recently vacuumed.
Tis good to be back.
And something happened.
He ran up to me. He nuzzled into my leg. He sneezed, which is what he does sometimes when he first gets himself all excited about having a cuddle with mum.
For the first time in weeks I saw my old boy.
If I didn't believe in miracles before, I do now. New Year's Eve was spent lying beside my darling baby on the concrete verandah out the back, stroking his head and back and telling him how much I loved him, tears streaming down my face the entire time.
The next few days were spent constantly checking him, tending to him as needed, applying powders and sprays and hoping he would eat, all the while telling him just how much he meant to me and how much I loved him.
Maybe it was love that brought him back. I wouldn't doubt it for a second if you said it was. Because the amount of love I feel for that hairy little man, if quantified electrically, could power the entire globe. He is part of our little family, and will be forever.
And so today I cried tears of sheer joy and happiness. Though the kids can't quite understand what has gone on, they understand a little. They understand love extends to animals. They understand that impending loss creates sadness in those who may experience that loss. I wouldn't expect them to understand a great deal more, nor do I want them to just yet. There is time for that in the future.
For now, we have the now. This afternoon they all played in the back yard. And they were able to give my lil man cuddles and pats, and laugh as he licked their hands playfully.
The status quo has been restored. For now. But I feel like I have been given a second chance to spend more time with my boy.
And I will gladly take that. As will he.
And to restore the status quo once again, I would like to offer a community service announcement. Do not allow a child to hold a container of sherbet if you have recently vacuumed.
Tis good to be back.
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