Onion Rings

If I had just found out that today would be my last day on Earth I would be just slightly preoccupied with what I would enjoy for my last meal. I love food and there are so many meals that I would consider to be my favourite; Roast Chicken, Chocolate Cake, Shepherds Pie, Sticky Date Pudding, Apple Pie, Green Thai Curry....I could go on forever. There is one meal however that I would go to the ends of the earth for and it is the meal I would choose if my hours were numbered, (surprise, surprise it isn't a dessert!) My Last supper would be a enormous T-bone steak with mushroom & pepper sauce and onion rings. Oh yum! I'm drooling just thinking about it!

I love a beautifully cooked T-Bone and I love crispy, crunchy onion rings alongside. Here is my favourite recipe adapted from how my Mum makes them.....

Onion Rings
1 1/2 Cups Plain Flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
1 x 375ml bottle of beer
Vegetable Oil
2-3 Medium onions, cut into rings and separated
Extra salt to season.

Combine flour, baking powder and salt in a bowl. Whisk in beer until the batter is smooth.

Add enough oil in a large saucepan, deep-sided fry pan or wok to immerse your Onion rings in. Heat to 190C (place a tiny segment of bread or potato into the oil to test it - if it sizzles like crazy it's ready)

Dip the onions into the batter one at a time them place straight into the hot oil. Deep fry for several minutes until golden brown and crispy. Cook in several batches, changing the oil if you feel you need to ( I didn't bother, but I'm just lazy) Drain the rings on paper towels and then serve with lashings of salt and of course your massive T-Bone ( a nice, cold beer wouldn't go astray either)

If you had to choose your last supper what would it be?

Our Peaceful Olly

This morning, when I was woken up by our special little guy at some ungodly hour, I didn't send him back to bed as I usually do. I pulled him into bed next to me and snuggled up close to him, breathing in his gorgeous little boy smell, cuddling his warm little body. Today was a different day......Today I was going to make the most of stealing a few moments with my boy......Today our beautiful man is 5.

   When I was pregnant with Mr Gorgeous, Hubby and I were having a difficult time trying to come up with a name that we both liked. I had scoured every baby name book conceivable to mankind but still no joy. Then one day a name jumped out at me, a name I liked.....No, no, a name I suddenly loved.
    I had come across the name before - it's not like it's unusual - but this name had caught my attention,, it had reached out and grabbed me.....I adored it.

              Oliver   "Olly"
I also loved the meaning; "Peaceful".


Now at this stage I didn't even know if the baby we were having was a boy, I just knew that I had to have this name. I wrote it down everywhere; our house was covered in  little post it notes with 'Olly' written all over them....I drove Hubby nuts.


Then the big day arrived and he was here. Our Oliver, Our Olly, Our Peaceful one. He has certainly lived up to his name;  an easy adorable baby, a funny, cuddly toddler, a cheeky, sweet preschooler and now.....a big, clever school boy.


Happy 5th Birthday to our wonderful boy - we hope you have a magical day. xxx

Husband Appreciation.

Yes, you've read right. Appreciation. Not Husband slander. Not Husband emendation. No, Husband appreciation.

I think he deserves a post all of his own; between moaning about the trials and trivialities of bringing up four children and my immense dislike of the supermarket, he barely gets a look in. Poor bugger. Really, it's about time I gave him some air time, let him know that despite all the whinging I do, I really, really appreciate him.

Firstly he puts up with me. No mean feat I tell you now. For starters despite being a Stay at home Mum I don't really do much house work, so the house is kind of a permanent bomb site. I'm also a scatter-brain, airy fairy, likely to forget my own children....good thing they follow me everywhere. I'm sensitive, can fly off the handle at any given moment and I take everything and I mean everything he says literally. As you can tell, he has his work cut out for him.
     On his occasional day off work he rolls around playing with the kids. They think this is the best thing ever. They scream, yell & climb all over him, just as if he was a giant jumping-castle. They torment him all day - which is wonderful as the spotlight is off me and I can escape to the kitchen....or the computer....or a book.
Not only does he play, he also cleans. Weird, I know. He'll race around the house like a demented Doris Day, dusting, (what's that?) vacuuming, mopping, basically doing everything that I "should" be doing during the week.

My favourite thing is just hanging out with him. I love pottering around amicably on a Sunday. I love sitting up talking about nothing for ages. I love watching hours of Top Gear with him. I love thrashing him while playing the play station.

Best of all, he's on my side, in my corner, backing me up. He tells me I'm amazing, he thinks I'm really smart (go figure!) and he thinks I'm beautiful.

You know what? I find him pretty amazing too.

My Life.....in boxes.

Today, I'm packing. My house is full of boxes.......empty boxes ready to fill with stuff......boxes already filled with stuff. I'm packing up our life, our things, our memories. I'm compartmentalising the past four years, four years of accumulated joy, stress and love.
    When we were told we had to move I was excited. I was looking forward to a new start in a new house. I felt it was a good opportunity to cleanse and reassess our lives and decide where we wanted to go with our future. I was over, so over our shabby discombobulated house. But now, with three weeks left to find a place to live, nowhere seems good enough. We need to find a place to build new memories. A place for four children to grow, extend, flourish.
  
This house has been amazing. We arrived here when Mr (nearly) 5 was 10 months old. He learnt to walk in this house. I enjoyed my last pregnancy within these walls. We bought Miss 2 home from hospital here. She learnt to smile, laugh, roll, crawl, walk here. Miss 8 and Mr 4 had their first day at school and came home to tea & cookies in our kitchen. Mr 10 has grown, matured and achieved in this house. We came home, here from our wedding. We've had birthday's, Christmases, holidays, parties, games and joy here. The walls are permeated with the fabric of us. I love the odd layout, the large, airy rooms, the view over the mountains. I don't want to leave.

I walk through the rooms and pack up the photos of my smiling children. I pack up their toys and carefully fold their clothes. I know that wherever we go we will make new memories. That happiness will follow us as it always has done and that our new home will also be a place of joy.

Have you ever had a home, a place that you've always felt connected to? Is it where you are now or is it a place from your past?

A Wonderful Childhood

Today, for the first time in 10 years, I am going away for a girls weekend with my sisters. This is a momentous occasion as far as I'm concerned. For the past 10 years I've been busy "Being Mum" a really important job as anyone would concede, but I've also let my relationship with my "girls", my sisters fall into a little bit of neglect.
    This weekend it is time to re-establish this bond. A bond that we formed during our wonderful, safe and secure childhood.
We grew up in a family wrapped in love. Our parents adored each other and displayed it continually (usually to our eternal embarrassment) they rarely argued and always backed each other up. They were rock solid, unmovable, reliable in their love for us and in the rules and discipline that our home was founded on. We always knew where we stood, that we were loved for being ourselves and boy, oh boy did we know when we were in trouble. Me, being the eldest, always seemed to be knee deep in it.
   Although Mum & Dad were strict we seemed to have an inordinate amount of freedom. We played endlessly and we always played together. We would be outdoors from dawn to dusk and would reluctantly come inside when Mum would call us for dinner. Our adventures are wound up in the fabric of who we are, what we've become.

One of the most important things my parents always enforced was a strong sense of Family. We were amazingly close. We were taught to be best friends. We were taught to accept one another, despite all our idiosyncrasies, despite our differences.
  And it's incredible how different three sisters can be; I was always independent, bossy, the leader and forever in trouble. Miss Middle was stable, reliable, quiet, endearing. Miss Little was cheeky, naughty, funny and full of character.

I am so grateful for our childhood. I will always be thankful that my parents forged our relationships with one another so strongly. Because I grew up with two best friends who were always there for me and still are to this day. This weekend we will be together once more, the three of us, I'm looking forward to reflection, reconnection and that warm sense of belonging.

Lament of the Lost Boosies

When I was a teenager I had fabulous boobs. They were large, they were perky, they were the bane of my existence. Being around five foot tall and quite petite they dominated my whole body - a feature that several of the boys at school didn't fail to notice.....much to my dismay.
    What I wanted was to be inconspicuous, to put my head down a hole and wait out those mortifying and awkward teenage years. What I got was ridicule from some of the girls and points and snigger's from the pimply boys in the throes of hormone-crazed puberty.

My boosie wah-wahs were completely wasted on me. I hid them under daggy jumpers in the high heat of Summer. My shoulders were permanently slouched, I wore ghastly minimising sports bras.
   Now, I look back on photos of myself at around 15 or 16 and I feel a sense of loss. I lament the diminishing of my beautiful boobies.
Gravity, three pregnancies and years of breastfeeding have sent them to boobie damnation. They are showing their age - just like the rest of me. Heading south for the Winter, Spring, Summer and Autumn.
    Push-up bras are now my best friends. Low cut tops and clingy shirts are everyday items in my wardrobe. The years of hiding and pretending I don't have boobies like Pammy are far behind me. Now, they're all out for everyone to see.....too bad you need a damn magnifying glass to see anything.
  The days of having a fabulous decolletage may be over - it's really too bad that I didn't appreciate them when I had them - but with maturity and Motherhood has come an acceptance of who I am......tiny boosies and all.

Creamy Chicken Noodle Soup

I love the approach of Winter for one reason and one reason alone......warming, comforting, calorie-enriched food. There are so many beautiful and delicious things to be enjoyed at this time of year, pies, casseroles, chocolate cake, crumbles, bakes, chocolate cake, puddings, soups, and did I mention chocolate cake?
   One of my children's favourite dishes has to be chicken noodle soup. They don't get it very often however as I find it bland, dull, absolutely boring - and if I don't like it we don't eat it. But then I thought of a way in which I would positively LOVE to eat chicken noodle soup.........by adding lashings of cream of course!

Creamy Chicken Noodle Soup

Firstly I am going to encourage, cajole and plead with you to make your own stock. This will add so much flavour to your soup. Please, please, please give it a go, it tastes yummy and makes your house smell divine. I will begrudgingly acknowledge that some Campbells Real Stock may do the job and you will still end up with some fairly nice soup. If you use crumbled stock cubes, however, I will never forgive you.

Stock;

You will need either a BBQ chicken for this recipe or even better leftover roast chook that you've made yourself.
Strip off most of the meat from your chicken and put it aside to use later.
In a large saucepan put your chicken carcass and cover it with water. Add an onion, several cloves of garlic, 2 carrots (peeled), 2 sticks of celery, bay leaves, peppercorns, and a couple of cloves. Season really well. Put this on the stove top and let it gently bubble away for several hours.
   Once it has been cooking for quite sometime remove the chicken, bay leaves and cloves. Strain the stock and return it to the saucepan, keeping it on low heat. The vegetables you have sitting in your strainer place in a blender and whiz them up until they are smooth.

Soup;

In a large saucepan melt a fair amount of butter, probably about 80 grams. Add enough flour to make a roux. Now gently add the hot stock a bit at a time, incorporating with a whisk so there are no lumps. Keep adding the stock and whisking it in until you feel you have enough for a good pot-full of soup. Add the reserved chicken pieces from when you made the stock and the pureed veges from your blender (if you didn't make your own stock - a slap on the wrist for you - but you will need two cups of cooked chicken and some finely chopped veg to add at this stage) Now add two cups of cream (Yum!) and season well. Let this simmer for about 20minutes. Now taste, hopefully it will be beautiful by this stage. Add more seasoning if you feel you need it and then put in some egg noodles and let them cook through. Serve with parsley sprinkled on top and I like a little Parmesan on mine. Wait for accolades and praise to heaped on you by the whole family as they inhale your sensational soup!

A Memory.....

I run. My hair flies out behind me and the cold wind stings my face. My feet fly over the damp, dewy grass and I feel exhilarated. I spread my arms out wide and I feel like I could fly at any moment.......I close my eyes.
    Then, my foot slips and I stumble. The ground races up to meet me and I land, then tumble. It hurts and tears spring to my eyes.

I hear shrieks of laughter behind me and I quickly scramble to my feet. My sisters shout with glee at my demise as they come running up behind me. I am quick to brush off my downfall. With a wicked grin I am off again. The girls close on my heels.
   And then, we are there. Our secret place. Our hideout. It is dense with trees and shrubbery. A magic place. A place of mystery.

The sounds of the creek bubbling merrily nearby and the birds singing are soon drowned out by our high, piping voices and our shouts of laughter.
In this secret world of ours I rule. I am the eldest and therefore make all the decisions. Today we are making a cubby and I quickly delegate jobs to my younger siblings. The middle sister; quiet and easy-going. The youngest one; full of cheek. We are happy in our work. We invent a make believe world full of promise and beauty. We chatter endlessly.

And then, we hear it, a sound we all dread. Our nemesis approaches, we hear his footfalls and the laughter dies on our lips. He stands in a clearing, close to our sanctuary. My sisters gasp, my heart hammers loudly in my ears. Our little world is suddenly silent, eerie.
  The rangy, old Ram grunts and stamps his feet. Then he starts to run.....at us. We scream with fear and run, he is close behind. Both my sisters faces speak of pure terror. The youngest one struggles to keep up on her short, little legs. He is gaining on us and I know that to run is futile. He is much faster than three little girls.

Then, I stop. Stupidly. Stubbornly. The Ram lowers his head and runs straight at me. I brace myself for impact. As he reaches me I suddenly raise my fist and I punch him right between his eyes. He stops, blinks stupidly at me, turns and runs away.
   I sink slowly to the ground gasping with fear and disbelief.

My sisters are there and they can't believe what I have just accomplished. Their voices are full of awe as they pull me to my feet. My heart swells with bravado at their praise. I am six feet tall and filled with pride. As we walk home again I walk with a slight swagger.

It's a tale I will go on to tell for years and years to come. Although my sisters no longer hold me in awe, I'll always remember the moment in which they did.

A Month of Happiness

For the past month I have been participating in "The Happiness Project" over at the lovely "Seven Cherubs". It was a wonderful idea and one the filled me with optimism.

It was a simple enough brief, keep a diary for a month and record daily events that made me happy. Easy Peasy, or so I thought. I consider myself to be a perpetually happy person but for a couple of days there I was stumped (and I have to admit I occasionally forgot and had to write in the next day - Oops!)

Mostly though, nice things happened and keeping this diary was a joy.
Here it is in it's month long entirety;


10/4 - Was woken by a cuddle and sloppy kiss from Little Miss and a cup of tea (albeit cold) from Mr 10. A lovely way to start my day.
11/4 - At the doctors, but really pleased that they slotted me in straight away. Prognosis: tonsillitis, go home to tea & sympathy from Hubby (nice!)
12/4 - Slowly feeling better. Hubby goes into work later so he can drop the kids at school for me (Yay!) and then finishes early to pick them up (double Yay!)

Miss 8 brings me home a gorgeous "Get Well" card from school. I put it on the fridge with all my other special kiddie artwork.

13/4- Mr 4 had his first ever Easter Hat parade today, it was just adorable and I was so proud of my little man.

                                       

14/4- Last day of school for two weeks, no early mornings, no rushing around for lost socks, no dreaded school run....bliss.
15/4- A beautiful quiet day. Went for morning tea with friends, had muffins and tea. Lovely, just lovely.

16/4- Spent the day in the kitchen cooking up a storm with Miss 8, had a great time together. It is one of our favourite Mother/Daughter activities. Took photos of our creation to enter a competition.
17/4- Sunday. My favourite day of the week. The whole family was at home and I loved spending the day pottering around the garden and in my kitchen.
18/4- We won! The competition my daughter and I entered was drawn today and we won! A beautiful, brand new Scan pan set....Woo Hoo!

19/4- Rain, rain and more rain and that means one thing...hot chocolate and movies...Yaaay!
20/4- The sun is shining thank goodness as we are off to the park for a birthday party. Have a brilliant time, so much fun for adults and kids.
21/4- This is what me happy today.......

   Enough said.
22/4- My Sister's birthday today, so the whole family is together for Easter and her birthday celebrations. She was stoked with her pasta machine. I love it when I buy a gift that someone loves! Now, I hope she makes me some awesome pasta with it!
23/4- Easter Saturday, we have a beautiful Easter lunch and we all sit around chatting and enjoying ourselves while the kids find eggs hidden in my parent's garden.
24/4- Woke at 3am this morning to hear an excited little voice call out "The Easter Bunny was here!" very cute. Luckily the little early bird went back to sleep and we were all up together at 6am to stuff our faces with chocolate and then run around in a chocolate induced high all day.
25/4- I love public holidays, especially when Hubby gets a day off. Although we did work around the house it was a lovely day.
26/4- Illness has swept through the house and we are all suffering from the gastro bug. We have all taken turns in being sick over the past 24hours. Has completely skipped Mr 4 thank goodness. So that is what is making me happy today - Mr 4 is well although the rest of us are not.
27/4- Recovery mode. But all snuggled together on the couch and watched movies so that was lovely.

28/4- Back to school for Mr 4 and Mr 10 as they are both OK. Another day off for Miss 8 who is still feeling poorly. I'm feeling better and oh, so hungry. Chicken Pot Pies are on the menu and taste brilliant after two days of being sick.
29/4- Back to the school run. The kids are so happy to see their friends and I love being back at school helping the preps with their reading. They are all just so adorable.

30/4- Outside, watching the kids run and play. The sunshine warms my face and I feel great.
1/5- May! How quick is this year flying! My beautiful friend celebrates her 30th today and we have a BBQ in the park to celebrate.
2/5- Cold clear mornings are my one of my favourite things, so beautiful. So peaceful.
3/5- Coffee with friends, we chat, the kids play. I love having the freedom to do this sort of thing.
4/5- Today I make a cake for my daughter's 2nd birthday. It turns out beautifully and I am so pleased. I know she'll love it.
5/5- Georgie's birthday morning tea. We have a joyous morning. My little darling has a wonderful day.

                               

6/5- Mother's day morning tea at the school. Mr 4 and his class put on a gorgeous show and then serve us morning tea. It brings a tear to my eye and makes me wish that I could capture this moment forever.
7/5- Miss 8 plays her first ever hockey game and does so well. I am so proud I could just burst with it.
8/5- Mother's day. The kids are so excited about giving me their carefully chosen gifts from the Mother's day stall. I bask in their love and affection.
9/5- Today, I write. This simple act of expressing myself brings me happiness.
10/5- My daughter has her first ever Naplan test. She is sooo nervous. I tell her to just do her best and I will be proud of her. She hugs me and says "I know you will Mum' and off she goes. At that moment my heart is full of love for her.

A huge thank you to Naomi from Seven Cherubs for her inspirational idea. It was quite a challenging month and a whole lot of fun! xx

Chivalry is Dead

This morning I was at the supermarket.
'Oh no!' I hear you mutter "Not again!'......
Thank you for your concern but yes, I am okay.
Unfortunately all the other people who reside in my suburb are not quite as fortunate.
Apologies to all the people in aisles 2, 5 and 11 at 10am this morning....the child in question is not mine, I promise, I only "borrowed" her. Honestly.
       Anyways, I'm off the beaten track. As this title clearly states "Chivalry is Dead".
Now, I'm not a die-hard feminist and nor am I a submissive door-mat-type-person (in other words I'm a fence-sitter) But I am a woman and I expect to be treated like one, in other words like I'm the Queen of England people! Bowing, curtsying, calling me "Ma'am" and all that.....just kidding.
       I do like manners though and I expect them. A simple please, thank you or excuse me will sometimes suffice. Therefore, if you see me (30-something, tired, stressed, motherly) struggling with my daughter that "borrowed" child in the freezer section of the supermarket, running up my backside with your loaded trolley will not help.....in fact it will quite likely make me apocalyptic with rage. Not apologising afterward makes it more than likely you will experience the female equivalent of an erupting volcano.
    When the aforementioned "borrowed" child throws a punnet of strawberries on the ground, skirting around them with a "tsk, tsk" is not acceptable, it is much more chivalrous to offer the struggling Mother a hand.
    Vile language will certainly not be tolerated. Yes, I take a long time to load my items onto the checkout, that is because I have a two year old tornado helping me. She is helping me so she's distracted from screaming like a banshee because she wants the strategically placed sweets. If you like I can take even longer and I will, simply because you swore at me. Now, I'll turn and wish you a nice day and that's because I'm a nice, well mannered young woman.

Tee hee.....Rant over, I promise to be all sunshine and rose petals again tomorrow. xx

Bathtime Freakout!

My gorgeous and sensitive Mr 4 has recently developed a bit of a phobia. And to be perfectly honest it's driving me nuts.
It occurs every time that I try and run the bath. He completely freaks out, flips his lid and quite literally loses the plot.
When bath time approaches I firstly make sure he is occupied elsewhere -tormenting his sisters will usually keep him busy for a while. I quietly sneak down the hallway and close the bathroom door. I'll turn the water on to barely a trickle and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, fill the bath.

Then, he'll start. Screaming, yelling, pounding on the door, 'Mum!' he shouts, 'Mum! Turn the water off!' Then he proceeds to melt down. Completely melt down. I'm telling you, the kid is totally traumatised by water running into a bath.
I try to be calm, encouraging and reassuring but the look on his little face says it all....he's s*** scared.

Once the bath itself is run he's fine. He'll hop and and happily while away 15 minutes or so playing with his action figures while soaking in his own filth. But it's the actual running of the bath that prompts the hysterical ranting and raving.
I'm worried about it. I'm worried about why he's scared of running water. It's also bloody annoying.

I cast my mind back to try and think of an incident or event that may have caused this fear......and if I'm going to be completely honest there is one, but it happened so long ago that he couldn't possibly remember, I mean he was 10 months old at the time so surely not? And this fear is relatively new.
To cut a long story short I started running the bath - left it running while I raced to answer the phone ( taking the children with me - I wasn't completely remiss) promptly forgot about it and then remembered 10 minutes later when the water started creeping down the hallway. Not one of my most intelligent moments.

So, if any one has any tips on relieving a little boy of this fear any advice would be welcome....or the poor little blighter will have to end up showering for the rest of his life. No more luxurious soaking in his own wee for him!

Sticky Chocolate Cake with a hint of coffee.

I made this cake yesterday.....for Mother's day...... for myself. When it came out of the oven I was disappointed. It looked flat. Not the beautifully fluffy and high creations I usually yield in my kitchen. Then, I tasted it and all of my misgivings were thrown out the window. It was divine, delicious, perfect I tell you. I've learnt my lesson well and truly....you can't judge a cake by it's cover!

Sticky Chocolate Cake with a hint of coffee.........

125 grams butter

100 grams dark chocolate

1/2 cup of water

1 1/2 tbsps cocoa

1/2 tsp instant coffee

3/4 cup caster sugar

1 egg

125 grams self raising flour

Place butter, chocolate, cocoa, coffee, water and sugar in a saucepan over low heat.

Gently stir until melted and combined. Cool slightly.

Add egg and whisk in well.

Whisk in flour and ensure there are no lumps.

Pour into a greased cake tin and bake at 180C for 45 minutes or so ( I always check after 30 minutes)

Top with this rich and delectable icing;

Ganache icing

200 grams dark chocolate

1/2 cup cream

Heat cream in a sauce pan until it begins to boil. Break up chocolate into a small heat proof bowl. Tip the cream onto the chocolate and stir until the chocolate is melted and the icing is thick. Cool and then ice the cake with this glistening confection.

I named this "Sticky Chocolate Cake" as it made everything in my house sticky, the children, my kitchen, my table, chairs and me!

Mother's Day.

Mother's Day is great. Not only do I get smothered with love from my little people but I get presents.
   Now, I know I'm supposed to gush on a bit about about how material items aren't important. How I'm happy with all of the "lovely" homemade (or rather school made) gifts from my children. How pleased I am to receive someone elses unwanted offering from the school Mother day stall.......but to be really honest, I want stuff. Pretty stuff, girlie stuff, frilly fabulous frou-frou stuff.

It's not to much to ask is it? That on the day that we celebrate all that is good, lovely and nurturing in this world (in other words, Mothers!) That I should be showered with gifts of the sparkly and glittery variety? I mean, I've certainly earned my fair share of rewards. Surely all of the bum-wiping, puke-cleaning, late-nights, early-mornings, snot-scouring, clothes-washing, room-tidying, food-cooking, injury-kissing, child-bathing, nightmare-rescuing, fight-moderating, tantrum-diverting, game-inventing, school-taxiing, must amount to something? Not to mention all the hugging, kissing, reassuring, encouraging, and unconditional love that I dish out on a daily basis. This must all add up to some form of material compensation. Surely? Hopefully? Expectantly?

Knowing the excellent time management of my beloved husband I will probably end up with the same as I did last year....... A zillion and one scraps of paper with 'I Love you Mum' scrawled across them, a cheap card and a scratchie.

Happy Mother's Day everyone!
                                 

A Special Delivery.

On this day, two years ago, I was cranky. I was a week overdue with third baby and I felt impatient and annoyed.......Why didn't my baby feel as anxious to meet me as I was to meet him/her?
    After yet another hospital appointment and a bit of a "hurry up" from the Ob/Gyn - Who, I might add, had the biggest hands I had EVER seen - I went home with niggling pains coming every half hour or so. Was this it? I wondered. Was it all about to start? Would my baby be born on this day? A special day? My Dad's birthday?

I was met at home by my biggest girl and youngest boy who had been picked up by my girlfriend. I sat down and tried to chat with my children but I was becoming very uncomfortable. The shower bought some relief and I spent about half an hour in there.
While I was occupied, Hubby, showing more hindsight that he is generally known for, had rung the hospital and my parents. Hubby was getting worried, he knew it was going to be quick and I tend to get obstinate while in labour...... he had to physically remove me from the shower, which was no easy task considering I was 41 weeks pregnant!
        Mum & Dad were at our house in 15 minutes for babysitting duties and it was off to the hospital for Hubby and I. I spent the trip clinging to the roof in agony although I still managed to boss Hubby around so I wasn't completely out of it!
    When we arrived the midwives seemed to sense the urgency and I was raced into a delivery suite with our allocated midwife - a trainee, it was going to be her very first delivery.

Half an hour later, I was holding my baby. Basically I walked in and gave birth...it was that quick. I couldn't quite believe it and nor could Hubby. This tiny, little angel regarded us with her dark, wide eyes and we were completely besotted. She was perfect, beautiful and ours.

Happy Birthday to our gorgeous, darling Georgia. xx

                         

Choco-nut Sundae

This recipe is a saviour. It is something you can throw together in a matter of minutes for one of those emergency desserts. Best of all, it tastes absolutely divine!

Choco-nut Sundae

175mls cream
100grams dark chocolate, chopped (milk chocolate may be preferred for children)
100grams crunchy peanut butter
50mls golden syrup

Place all the ingredients in a saucepan and cook over low heat until smooth.
Drizzle over large, luscious scoops of good quality ice-cream and sprinkle with chopped nuts.

Fabulous, Just Fabulous!

A Sweet Little Fairy......

This morning I was visited by a fairy. She was a cute, sweet little thing with her rosebud lips, soft, chubby cheeks and golden curls. Her eyes sparkled with innocence and just a hint of mischief. She wore a pink tutu, had sparkly wings and the obligatory fairy wand clutched firmly in her grasp.
      The fairy proceeded to do a fairy dance, with twirls, kicks and leaps. Her funny rotund tummy sticking out from underneath her T'shirt.

Then she approached me with a loving smile and babbled away in her cute, little fairy language.

It was then that the unthinkable happened....my gorgeous little fairy proceeded to beat me around the head with her sparkly fairy wand.

A sweet little fairy she ain't!