Behind every great kid.........

This morning I was at the supermarket trying to cram as much as possible into my trolley in record time, (it's my day off......there are books to be read and tea to be drunk) when I ran into an acquaintance I hadn't seen for a while. We exchanged polite chit-chat before she hit me with THIS bombshell; 'I saw you out and about with your children the other day' Gulp, here we go, I thought, insert some criticism veiled thinly as advice regarding offsprings vile behaviour here. 'They were SOOOOOO well behaved, you must be so proud............'
 Well, my jaw hit the floor, my eyeballs shot out of my head and in the stunned silence that followed you could have heard a pin drop. My first thought was 'that couldn't be me, she's mistaken me for someone else - some other blonde, late 30-something lady with 4 kids- there's plenty of us around. My second thought was 'maybe I could track down this amazing doppelganger of mine and we can trade kids, I'm sure she won't mind.' Supermarket lady was adamant though; it was definitely me; 'Your youngest was wearing a tutu, crop top and gumboots' Okay, yeah, definitely mine then, my youngest is the only nearly 7 year old on the Gold Coast who is still kicking 3 year old demented fairy fashion.
      Well, after that encounter I had a spring in my step and joy in my heart; 'My children are well behaved!' I sang quietly in my head as I conquered the fruit and veg section. 'My children are well behaved!' I wanted to blurt to the checkout dude as he took a million hours to load my groceries, 'My children are well behaved!' I grunted as I heaved my monstrosity of a trolley to the parked car. 'MY CHILDREN ARE WELL BEHAVED!!!' I stuck my head out the car window, blared music out of the stereo and felt the sunshine on my face as I drove home.
    The reason for such unadulterated joy? The feeling that maybe.....just maybe I haven't stuffed up this parenting gig entirely. That despite the fact that my children spend a good portion of their time screaming at each other, leaving apple cores under the couch and half drunk glasses of curdled milk on windowsills, that there is a teeny, tiny chance that I am doing a good job and that I am building good people.
    When the 15 year old's boss comments on his amazing work ethic.
    When the 13 year old comes home with mostly A's and excellent behavior on her report card.
     When Mr 9's teacher tells me how polite and well-mannered he is.
     When Miss 6 lights up a room with her cheeky smile and joie de vivre.
When our Friday afternoons are filled with laughter, mess, games and relaxation together. Those moments, those times, are telling me I'm doing a good job. And guess what? I bet you are too.



                                               

When Kids Say Stuff......

Kids say the darndest things. And the cutest. And sometimes the rudest......
Watching them wrap their little mouths around words such as spaghetti and stethoscope usually has highly entertaining results.
       But occasionally they come out with a word that you really wish they could blurt out accurately.
   In my 20 years of working with small people the number 1 word that kids mispronounce is.....you guessed it......truck. I swear 9 out 10 kids at some stage of linguistic ability put a big fat "F" in front of it instead of the acceptable "Tr".
   One child of mine was particularly memorable at this stage. He could deadset sense a truck approaching from miles away and the excitement would begin...
  "Here comes a F-uck Mummy! A F-uck!!! Here it comes! It's coming! Will it be a big F-uck? What colour will the F-uck be????' A great, big F-uck!!! Always at the top of his lungs and always repeating the word about 20 times. I swear the neighbours thought we were complete and utter potty mouths. Or he pulled the word out when the MIL was around....now that was always 'interesting'.
    Here are some other shockers that my children have 'announced' at usually inappropriate times......
The time my daughter told me she wanted to grow up and become a 'Fashion Vagina"
When a certain Mr (that of 'truck' fame) referred to the Supermarket as the "Stupid Market" (and I tended to agree.....)
When we took my nephew bushwalking and he was looking everywhere for a big (st)dick.
Or very memorably when my sister (who is in her 30's) referred to an octopuses tentacles as "testicles"
     Along with the downright embarrassing linguistical nightmares comes the downright cute. Some of our cute little family sayings are now woven into the folklore of our family and we pronounce them this way permanently, they still give me a smile whenever I hear them......
   Inside Out is 'Inside Outside'
   Mozzarella is 'Monsterella'
   Kabana and Cheese is "Barnacles and Cheese"
   Coathangers are "Hoatcangers"
   Eleavator is "Alligator"
   Happy Birthday is "Happy Smurfday"
And we all love a trip to "Bunnies" instead of "Bunnings"
My favourite however is a big old fashioned "Huggle" instead of a hug. Infact I still subject my nearly Mr 15 to a huggle whenever I can. Now it's my turn to be the embarrassing one.....
     
What are some of the cute (and scary!!) things your kids have said over the years??

                   

Hi There.......

What's that sound?? That strange, creaking tapping sound? Oh yeah, it's my fingers on the keyboard. It's been about a hundred years since I last wrote anything (or more accurately 3 years....but who's counting?)

     I'm suprised that when I pulled the crusty old laptop out of my bag I didn't get attacked by a flock of rabid moths (do moths live in flocks? Or is it a herd of moths? A pack of moths? I'm going with flock......flock sounds good)

  Anyway, off on a tangent already. I feel terribly guilty that I have let my passion for writing diminish. I feel rusty, slow and out of shape, like all of my creativity has dried up or taken off on a very long holiday.

   But a few things have been calling me back to my little corner of cyberspace. I have been writing a little bit in secret. Just a scribble here and there, but when I get a teensy space of time to myself (and I'm not lying, any moment to myself is fleeting) my hands itch for paper and pen. Then a friend told me that they really miss my blog, that I always made her laugh with my descriptions of our crazy life. Hubby then topped it off by telling me I should write again (yup, he's still here, poor bugger)

    Hmmmm, I pondered, is the Universe trying to tell me something? Should I write again? So I popped onto my poor, neglected blog and had a look around.

  And she's exactly the same as she was, my old friend. Sure, she's slightly overgrown with weeds, disheveled and in the need of a good makeover. But a little bit of love an injection of sunshine and I'm sure I can make her glow again. And maybe, just maybe she can inject a bit of joie de vivre into this old writer.

    In my hiatus quite a few things have changed; The children - my terrific, tedious and terrible tribe are essentially the same personality wise. Just bigger.......more stubborn.......and not as cute. Sure, they still light up my life, but each day presents a range of challenges and disasters, just to keep on my toes....and slightly loopy.

   Hubby and I are older, a bit more wrinkled, just a little more worn and happy.....bursting with happiness.....just an exhausted kind of happiness.

   Our house is the same. A mess. Infact if it's humanely possible it's even more of a mess (I'll tell you why in a minute, and no, it's not because I'm lazy, although that is also true)

Toys occupy almost every surface, crumbs litter the floor, sand is embedded in my carpet and Mt Kosciwashko still takes pride of place in my walk in wardrobe.

     The big change is that I went back to work. Yup. You heard it. Work. Me. My life of leisure (Ha!) and luxury (HaHa!) is over and I am officially a WAHM. And guess what? I love it? I opened my heart and my home to a lovely group of little people and set up my own daycare. And it's perfect. It's messy, it's loud, it's funny and I have a life full of unconditional love and just a bit of mayhem. My kids are 'big brothers and sisters' to my daycare kids and our world bumps along nicely.

  So somewhere in the middle of this crazy town madhouse I hope to recapture a bit of my old creativity, recreate some of my favourite stories and reignite the fire that is this (neglected) passion of mine.

     Wish me luck!!

Run.......for your life.....

Yesterday I did something that 6 months ago would have been impossible. Yesterday I did something that not long ago people would have laughed out loud at the very prospect.

Yesterday, I ran in my first ever 10 kilometre fun run.

To me, I have just accomplished a miracle. For the past 10 years I have done very little in the way of exercise. I was busy, making and bringing up babies. No excuse, I can tell you now, but I used it all the time. I sneered at the thought of physical exertion of any description.

Coffee, Cake and Couch....that was my motto.

I don't know what changed. Maybe deep down I knew that I was unhealthy. Perhaps I knew that to continue this lifestyle would lead to my own self-destruction.

Maybe it was my Dad getting sick at the end of last year that made me realise that we are not all immortal. That I am not invincible. That I need to take care of myself to take care of my family properly.

I want to be a good role model for my children. I want them to realise that their Mum and Dad are healthy, fit and accomplished people.

Toward the end of last year I had started running/walking a short distance but had slacked off over Christmas.

So in January I started...

Wake at 5:30am, running gear on, dog on his lead, off I go.

That first day was hard, I swear I barely managed a kilometre. I huffed and puffed in the early morning sun. The dog pulled me along, almost dragging me.

I finished, exhausted....but strangely euphoric. Strange, that euphoric feeling. I hadn't achieved much and yet it was there, shimmering gently under the surface for the rest of the day.

The second day was much as the first, but at the end that happy glow again.

Day three, why am I liking this so much?

The end of week 1- hard
week 2 - still hard
week 3- 2 kilometres, no stopping.......... I tell you now I could have conquered the world that day.

As the weeks raced by, I ran further and faster. I clicked over 5 K's easily. But I struggled to get to 6 and then 7.

Then, one day the dog stopped dragging me, I started dragging the dog.

The day I ran 8 kilometres without stopping was amazing. I felt on top of the world, like I could achieve anything.

It was on my 10th week of running that I finally reached my goal of 10 kilometres.

I ran it easily several times before my ultimate goal of the 10km fun run.

Yesterday was hard. There were a lot of people jostling for position. The wind was strong. It felt far and difficult.

My head kept telling me, 'you can't do this, you can't do it' .......I can and I will.

Running towards that stadium was amazing, I knew my husband and children were there waiting for
me....

As I ran in they yelled and cheered and I felt unstoppable.


I finished in under an hour. Which is my best ever time. But in all honesty I was just happy to finish.

The rest of the day was an exhausted, happy blur.

Last night as I tucked my gorgeous Mr 5 into bed, I was all geared up for the rain of compliments he always gives me if I do something great.

'So what did you think of Mum running in a race today?' I questioned.......
'Well, Mum I really didn't want to tell you this but it was kinda embarrassing'

Ummmmm, OK.

'Why?' I asked

'You run funny' was his prompt reply.

Thanks mate......the perfect end to my perfect day.

Healthy-ish Chocolate Chip Cookies

One of the many things that I seem to do at the beginning of each year is to give my family's eating habits a bit of a kick up the a***. I start to freak out that we are not healthy enough and then I give our whole pantry/fridge a make-over.

    Anyone familiar with my obsession with food would be aware that I love creating, making and baking sweet treats. I would bake up a storm at least three times a week and then we would eat it all. Of course our meals were always quite healthy, but these were also put under the microscope and given a bit of a shake up.

I really went to town on the sweets though. I haven't stopped baking, it is one of my favourite hobbies after all, I'm just giving our treats a bit of a healthy kick.
This recipe was tested out on friends only last week and was given the big 'thumbs up'. Now they are not 100% healthy, but I have substituted several ingredients to make them healthy-ish.

Healthy-ish Choc-Chip Cookies

3/4 cup rolled oats

1 cup SR wholemeal flour

½ tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

¼ cup butter, softened

¼ cup canola oil

1/3 cup granulated sugar

1/3 cup brown sugar

1 large egg

I tsp vanilla extract

1 cup dark chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 180C.

Grease and line two baking sheets.

Process oats in the food processor until fine. Transfer to a bowl and add flour, baking soda and salt. Beat butter with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add oil, sugars, egg and vanilla and beat until smooth and creamy. Add dry ingredients and beat together on low until combined. Fold through the choc chips.

Drop a teaspoonful of dough onto the baking sheets one at a time, 2 Cm's apart. Bake for 15 minutes or so. Cool before transferring to wire racks.

How To Be A Good Parent......

The year is 2012, which means several things. It's 20 years since I settled permanently in Australia. It's 8 years since I first started dating my husband (then boyfriend obviously) and it's 10 years ago that I became pregnant with my eldest daughter.

10 years.....wow!

10 years ago today - the date memorised, I peed on a stick and those two little blue lines appeared. I remember it as though it was yesterday. A rush of emotions; disbelief, shock, trepidation, fear and joy....pure, simple, unadulterated joy. I had always been one of those people that hurtled toward parenthood, that made the decision very early on that 'When I grow up I wanna be a Mummy' and here I was pregnant...with my first baby.......all of my dreams, hopes and aspirations collided at that point.

Right from the start my focus was on my baby. I was obsessed about proper nutrition, exercising gently and even 'educating' the tiny little person growing inside me. I was one of those people that put headphones on my burgeoning belly and played Mozart...cringing now at the memory.

I read everything......and I mean everything about healthy pregnancies. Problem is that pregnancy is the easy part, it's when little bubs emerges that the 'real work' begins.

So, here I was tiny babe in arms and a big, bad world that I had to bring her into. Scared shitless doesn't even begin to cover it. But, in my typical obsessive style I did everything I could to become the 'Best Mum Ever'

Every waking moment, every second of every day was spent with this lovely, little person. I was devoted to the extreme. I cuddled her every time she cried, I freaked out at every little scrape and bruise, I obsessed over every little scrap of food that passed her lips.....poor bloody kid.

With my second pregnancy I relaxed slightly, I craved hash browns, eggs and bacon and ate them. I didn't read nearly as much. I rescued the poor child from listening to classical music.

When he arrived I was a bit more laid-back. I didn't carry-on about every squeak and whimper. He grew and thrived without me freaking out.

And so to child three. As you all know by now, relaxed doesn't even begin to cover it, she eats dirt, licks the dog, enjoys the cat's biscuits, plays in toilet water and thrives. Absolutely thrives.
She's independent, feisty and intelligent....they all are. But it surprises me that my parenting has changed so much, from obsessive to laissez-faire and everything in between.

What have my children taught me over the past 10 years? To be a good parent. To relax and enjoy. To care and love........To be the 'Best Mum Ever' for my children.

My greatest accomplishment!!!!

The Cat's Miaow......

As I sit here with my new laptop on my (you guessed it!) lap, I am getting constantly interrupted. I've rewritten the same starting sentence around five times. I've corrected several spelling mistakes (and as we ALL know I do not 'do' spelling mistakes)

Now, you all may under the misconception that Miss Tornado Two is having another one of 'those' days. Well today she is a little ray of sunshine. Playing happily and quietly with her dolls and her dollshouse.

Today I am being interrupted by someone and something totally different....here, let me introduce you.......

My helper........

Meet Pippa, our new and very adorable kitten.

On Friday Hubby and I made the journey to the GC Animal shelter and picked out Miss Pippa. It was a hard choice to make, there were so many lovely little babies there. Timid ones, shy ones, naughty, boisterous, crazy kittens everywhere.

Of course we chose a rumbustious one. Our household is pure chaos and a timid cat would soon feel the strain. Miss Pip fit the bill nicely, although lively she wasn't the craziest there. She loved getting picked up and having a snuggle. She purred loudly and often.

Once we had filled out our adoption papers we headed home.

The surprise waiting for the kids when they arrived home that afternoon was wonderful. Miss 9 (our animal lover) cried tears of joy. Miss 2 squealed with excitement, Mr 5 pulled out all her new toys and insisted she play with them 'now', Mickey (our dog) wagged his tail and gave her an enthusiastic lick.

When Mr 11 joined us the very next day he was beside himself. His cat that he had from when he was a baby passed away last year. So having a new friend really made his day, she slept with him that night and he was overjoyed.

As cute as the little ball of fluff is she is also very naughty. She races around the house at top speed. Her claws are sharp and she loves to launch herself at an unsuspecting passer-by. At night is her favourite time to play, she doesn't care if you are asleep or not, she'll just attack any limb protruding from the bedclothes. We have all taken to closing our doors at night to keep her out. Being awoken at 2am with claws digging into your foot is not an enjoyable experience I can tell you now.

So, as you can probably tell, Pippa is the perfect addition to our crazy household. She fits right in amongst the screaming, yelling, mess, mayhem and pure and utter joy that is our house......................


Welcome Miss Pippa-Cat!

A Day In The Life Of Miss Tornado Two....

Hmmmmm...what to do today?

The best place to sleep at night is Mum and Dad's bed. I get all cosy and comfy in my favourite position - my feet on my Mum's face, my head nestled into Dad's armpit.

The sun barely touches the sky and I'm up....full of spark and pizazz and ready for my day.

Of course, I can't start creating havoc on all and sundry without my daily Milo fix. Milo is my favourite thing in the whole world....apart from chocolate....and perhaps ice-cream. I figure if I ask for it incessantly Mum will have to give it to me. But she's stubborn, my Mum, so I only get it in the morning.

'Milo-Milo-Milo-Milo-Milo-Milo-Milo' I demand, until it's delivered into my hot little hands.

Slurp, slurp, guzzle.

Now....what do I do after Milo? Oh, that's right....create havoc.

First I'll knock over my brother's carefully constructed mobilo tower....I'm sure he won't mind, he only spent an hour creating it.
Now, my sister has the her dolls house looking lovely....I still think it needs some rearranging.....I'll throw some Barbies and furniture around...ahhhh, that's much better.

Mum's asking me to come and get dressed. I know that if I ignore her long enough a funny thing happens and steam starts to come out of her ears. I think I'll wait and see if she does it again....it always amuses me.

I've fed my breakfast to the dog, done a wee on the carpet, refused to wear anything but my best party dress, squeezed a tube of toothpaste down the sink, drawn a lovely picture on the coffee table and emptied a container of rice on the floor. Quite a productive morning I think.

Time to take the big kids to school. I know Mum loves it when I run away from her in the car park, in the school grounds, in my brother's classroom and back in the car park on the way out again. She especially loves it when I make a mad dash right toward the busy road. I can tell she thinks it's great because her face goes a lovely bright red colour and she says alot of funny words. I think one of them rhymes with 'Truck'.

The middle of the day is one of my favourites. Mum sets some paint up and tells me that I've painted lots of beautiful colours. While Mum is busy hanging up my painting I quickly paint one of her brand, new outdoor cushions a lovely orange colour. I think she'll really like it.

Dog food tastes nice. Just saying.

We dance with maracas, until I whack Mum over the head with one.

Mum sets me up to play with my tea set while she hangs out the washing. I start to think that my 'tea' will be much nicer with some real sugar in it. I climb the shelves in the pantry, grab the sugar bowl, I then proceed to dump the whole bowl of sugar into the tea cup. Ohhhh Yuuuum! It tastes so good. Here comes Mum, I bet she'll like a taste too.

Steam is coming out of Mum's ears again. Hehe!

School pick up time. Yaaaay! I can play chase with Mum a bit more!

Scribble looks great on my big sister's homework.

Cereal is really something best eaten off the floor.

I really love to wash my hands....again and again and again. I like it even more if I pump the entire contents of the soap dispenser into my hands first, then I can have a bubble party!

I won't get in to the bath, you can't make me....................................................I won't get out of the bath, you can't make me.

I will not eat anything but ham for dinner. Just so you know.

I WILL NOT BRUSH MY TEETH. Not even if you try to pry my lips apart. I will scream and yell and cry all with my mouth firmly clamped shut.

Sleep is for wimps. I don't need sleep......I don't want sleep......Only babies go to sleep.

I......
Am.....
Not......
Tired.....




Mum, Mum, come here, I forgot to tell you something......

I.......Wuv.......You......

Getting Off My Lazy A***.

Must.Try.Harder.

Why, hello there....

Long time no see.....

As you have probably noticed, or not........ depending on whether you ever paid attention to my random ramblings of the past......I've been AWOL for quite some time.

You see, I seem to have been suffering from an ailment, and a serious one at that. I like to call it 'dodgy Internet access', but it can also be known as 'can't be arsed', 'bone-idle lazy' or even 'blog-overload'.

I love blogging, I really do, but for a while there it was TAKING OVER MY LIFE.

So, I had a holiday, a hiatus, a lovely bloggy vacation. Ideally I had planned to only have Christmas off, but that slipped into January, February and now March has reared it's head, all without a peep from me.

Once I had passed my self-imposed break it was really hard to get back into it. In fact, to be honest I didn't even check my page at all during this time. Truth be told I was too scared to have a look. A bit like a garden that has been overlooked, I expected it to be overgrown, ugly, unkempt.

    

Time to do some weeding?

 



But of course, it looked exactly the same. A little bit of love, some pretty words and pictures and I'm sure 'she'll' be up and shining again.



So, what have I been doing for the past four months?

Honestly, I haven't been as lazy as I'm making myself out to be. You see (I'm sure you've all forgotten so I'm going to remind you) I live with these creatures. Four of the buggers. They are small, cute and they smell funny. They are also messy, difficult, annoying and disruptive. I'm sure you've heard of them.....'children' is what they are called.

You can find a description of these little monsters in any dictionary.......

children; A person between birth and puberty

Although, personally I like my own definition better.....

children; small. They make mess, fight incessantly and eat you out of house and home. They speak a strange language that can be described as whinging or whining, sometimes interspersed with a little bit of demanding. These creatures are abundant in their displays of affection, adoration, love and humour.

These mini people have been keeping me incredibly busy, but secretly I have missed writing. I've missed sharing the craziness of my life with you all. Sometimes it's like taking a giant weight off my shoulders, like chatting to a long lost friend.

So, I'm officially back. I've missed everything and everyone, hopefully, this time I can do this all much better. xxxxxxxx

Friends are Forever.......



When my eldest daughter started school I was nervous. Nervous about her making new friends, nervous about making friends myself. I don't socialise effortlessly and easily like some people do. I always feel self conscious, like I'm going to say or do something wrong, like everyone is staring at me and thinking 'What an idiot'.

After a while, I started to see the same girls (ladies really, but to make us all feel young and hip I'm going to say girls) everyday. We would chat at school drop off and pick up and then we started meeting each other for coffee, shopping and birthday parties. My insecurities slipped away, I was part of a group....and a wonderful group at that. The BBQ's started, the social gatherings. We could count on each other to take care of each others kids and to pick up  the pieces when our lives went wrong. New babies arrived and they would fit in amongst the group, the children, the husbands and us girls.

Women make wonderful friends. We love and laugh big. We give it our all, we care. Our hearts are permanently on our sleeves.

Then, we found out that one of us has to leave. To start a new life somewhere else...a long way away. We know that she'll be back, her and her wonderful family, but for a while there will be a space, just waiting for her, for when she comes back.

Last weekend we said goodbye. Not in a crying, hugging kind of way. We escaped....just us girls....on a weekend getaway. We said goodbye with laughter, love and fun. We said goodbye while cracking jokes, eating tonnes of food and relaxing.

So, to our dear and darling friend. We wish you all the best, we wish you happiness and health in your new home. And we'll all be here, waiting for your return.

images

Please Excuse Me.......

Hi everyone. Long time no post. Or no post since Sunday anyway. Sorry I haven't been around much but things have kinda got on top of me, like.....

Life,
Kids,
Moving,
Holidays,
My Husband (Oops! Lame attempt at humour)

At one stage I was writing almost daily, but lately I've been having trouble staying motivated. There are a few things I've had to let slide....and this little bloggy just happens to be one of them. It is a little bit sad, but unfortunately when I'm not racing around like a blue-arsed fly I'm sleeping. Sleep comes first at the moment my friends.

To be just a teensy bit honest I've also lost my blogging mojo....just a little. The fire just isn't there at this point in time. The lights are on but no body's home. This brain of mine is just a great empty void of nothingness....well, it's like that all the time but lately it's worse.

So first of all I would like to apologise to all my lovely bloggy friends. Thank you all for visiting and commenting. I love that you are here. I'm sorry for not visiting you all as much as I should be. As soon as my brain is de-fuzzed I'll be back around, I promise. Have a hot cuppa ready would ya?

To my friends and family who visit through Facebook. Thanks for sticking by me. Thanks for reading my crap. I love your support.

I'm not disappearing, I'll still be around, just in a vague, unfocused, half hearted way. Once I have everything sorted out hopefully the spark will come back. I have a few posts planned for in the future, they will just be written when I get a chance. So no regularity from me!

So, if you'll all please excuse me.........

My Sister's Wedding...

On Friday I was lucky enough to be part of a very special occasion....I watched my baby sister marry her wonderful partner of 7 years.

Baby sister has always been the life and soul of our family. She is vivacious, fun and pure goodness. Being six years younger than me I always thought she was adorable...until she started stealing my clothes and ripping the heads off my barbie dolls that is.

Watching her grow into a beautiful young woman has been a joy. Then, when she met someone who understands, loves her and makes her happy, it seemed to bring a whole new dimension into her life. Having their first baby last year completed the picture.

When I made my way down the aisle as bridesmaid on her wedding day and spotted her adoring husband to be waiting at the end, I started sobbing hysterically. This was the moment, a moment that seven years of accumulated joy, fun, trials, tribulations, laughter and love had ended in... a new beginning, the start of something spectacular.

I turned and watched with pride as my sister walked down on the arm of her beloved Daddy. Our Daddy who, until a few days previously had been seriously ill in hospital.

The ceremony was beautiful, the setting true to their personalities and style. It was a privilege to be part of such an incredible moment.

The rest of the day was a celebration of pure joy. A celebration of their love. I wished it had gone on and on and never ended, but unfortunately it had to.

So congratulations to my lovely sister and my new brother. May your lives be filled with love, laughter and happiness.

Just a little bit of Fabulousness!!

Today I indulged in some fabulousness. I have been preened and pampered and well and truly beautified. Now, this is highly unusual for me. But due to my impending bridesmaid duties on Friday for my little sister (Eeeek! So excited!) I thought that it was best for me to join the other girls for finger nails, fake tans and frivolity.

 I can honestly say I have never actually been to a day spa. I have had my nails done before..once or twice I think....but I have never, ever had a spray tan before - which I think the beauty therapist was well aware of.......judging by her amused expression bought on by my awkwardness.

Initially I had a run down on spray tan etiquette by my sister's well informed friend. Then brave (or stupid) person that I am I eagerly volunteered to go first.

So first of all I had to strip off. I had anticipated this, although I wasn't quite prepared to go the whole hog. Getting naked in front of strangers is not my forte. I may have been a little more liberal with flashing body parts in my early twenties, but several years and children later, my wobbly bits are only for my husband's eyes.

Then, the lady hands me something that looks vaguely like dental floss. I was supposed to put this on...somewhere. I didn't think it would look appropriate hanging from my teeth, so I 'tried' to cover the parts that needed to be covered.

Then she started spraying. Some sort of cold, sticky substance. It tickled, and I had a hard time not laughing at the awkwardness of the situation. Here I was, stark freaking naked, getting sprayed with some sort of concoction, by a complete stranger. Funny weird or funny ha ha?

Anyways, a few minutes later I was done. I stood self-conciously in the room while a fan dried me off and the therapist cleaned up. I was sure she was making a mental note to tell all her friends of 'the frumpy Mum who came in today, obviously had a couple kids judging by the general saggy/dagginess, was plain to see that she had never heard of hair removal or beauty products' or else she couldn't have cared less and it was just my crazy self-talk.

Next it was nails, which was definitely less embarrassing and really quite nice. Then, toe nails...which was divine...although I felt slightly sorry for the poor woman who had to deal with my dodgy toesies.

So, now I am tanned, pretty and fabulous. All ready for a super-special day on Friday.

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Today...I Was Awesome!

Everyone knows about my aversion to housework. As far as I'm concerned there are so many other things I would rather be doing....reading, drinking tea, eating chocolate, blogging, playing with the children....almost anything really.

But today something happened. Something highly unusual, something completely unprecedented. Today I cleaned. And I didn't just clean a little...I cleaned like crazy, I cleaned everything and anything...I was like a demented Doris Day.

From the moment I awoke this morning at 5:30 am until about 15 minutes ago I was a woman possessed.

I vacuumed, I scrubbed, I mopped, I wiped down surfaces, I washed couch cushions......I even attacked Mt Koziwashko. True, I was worried about tackling such a beast. There is always the possibility that I will be swallowed alive, but with sheer manpower (admittedly I bribed the children with sweets to help me) we overcame the monstrosity.

When Hubby returned from work I am quite sure he had wondered what on earth had happened to his little, lazy wifey. He was greeted by the smells of cleaning products and the sight of my rear end in the air while I scrubbed the floor...which he probably quite liked to be honest.

I dare any rodent of any description to set their filthy little paws in my abode now. If any of them so much place a whisker anywhere near this house they will hopefully die from the toxic fumes radiating from within (sorry children) or else they will die of starvation from the lack of crumbs in my carpet.

Tonight I gave myself a mental high-five, I danced a happy dance while alone (can you believe it...bliss) in the shower...sorry Hubby you probably would have quite liked that too......Tonight I'm happy that I had such a productive day. Let's just hope that it all doesn't become completely unravelled tomorrow!

The Sibling Showdown!

'Give it to me!'
'That's mine!'
'I had it first!'
'You smell like poo'
'You are a bum!'
'I hate you!'
'You are the worst ever!'

Anyone approaching the vicinity of my household would probably be astounded by the ear-shattering, ground trembling, nails-on-blackboard sounds coming from the confines of its four walls.

They would probably run for miles in fear of the evil creatures that reside inside......

One is 8 years old. Long blonde hair, pink cherubic face, big blue eyes.

The other is 5 years old. Disarmingly cute, butter-wouldn't-melt in his mouth, angelic demeanour.

Most of the time they behave reasonably well...of course they have their moments in public but generally I can take them anywhere with little fear of them displaying unsavoury behaviour.

At home it is a different story. I feel like I'm constantly breaking up an argument of some sort. Forever pulling them apart to prevent them from actually tearing each other limb from limb. They race around screaming at each other and participating in a game I can only call 'run and punch'.

It takes all of my self-restraint from joining in to be honest. Sometimes they seem so evil I could easily scream, yell, run and punch too.....

But, I don't. Of course I don't. Because I am the adult here. I have to set an example. I have to model appropriate behaviour....dammit.

So, I spend an awful lot of my time explaining the 'right way' to behave, the 'right way' to react to your sneering, face pulling, bottom-flashing brother. The 'right way' to respond to your screeching, scratching, temperamental sister.

Sometimes I feel like teaching them 'Do unto others..blah, blah, blah' is falling on deaf ears. Somehow I hope the message is slowly sinking in and eventually they will begin to like each other again. But until then.......

'You are a big snot-head...Na-na Na-na-na!'

Busy, Busy, Busy!

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My brain is on the fritz. This is not uncommon, in fact I find the whole debacle of bringing up children enough to send me quite batty. Lately, it's been worse than normal though. It feels like I have a whole host of dilemmas to deal with and not enough hours in the day to deal with them all.

Over the next two months life is crazier than crazy for this household.

Next week, two of my favourite people in the whole world are getting married. Eeeek! So excited! But with the wedding comes a fair amount of organising to do. I have to pack for us all to go away (the wedding is at Lennox Head -Northern NSW)  we will be staying there for three days. I have to try and cut down on my 6 minute wedding speech (I do tend to ramble - in case you hadn't noticed) I'm handwriting all the place cards and I have to - at some point- beautify myself. Seeing that I am a bridesmaid I do have to make some effort. I don't think walking down the aisle with three months regrowth and the hairiest armpits in the universe will do....do you? Now I am not complaining, the poor bride has way more on her plate than me (duh!) I'm just slightly freaking out.

My Daddy is in hospital. He is OK. Hopefully he will be out soon. But I kind of feel like I should be camped out in front of the place until he gets the all clear...you know what I mean?

We have to find a house to move into...preferably one that is not mouse-infested like this one. Now, we have been very lucky in that for the past few months we have lived in my MIL's house rent free while she has been away. But she will be back within the next  month so we need to find a house to rent pronto. Trouble is I'm a bit fussy. I've already looked at quite a few properties and not one had lived up to my expectations. I have three to look at before this week is out and I'm really hoping that one of them is acceptable. Even if it is OK it is quite likely that the owner will look at our application, see that it says 'Four kids and a dog' and shudder with horror...I know I would.

I also have a weekend away in Noosa to plan and get organised for (oh, poor me, such a hard life!) My daughter's 9th birthday to fit in (Can't believe she's nearly 9! Where did that time go?) and our yearly camping holiday to prepare for......Yaaaaaay!

Oh, and I almost forgot, I guess I should at some stage I should start to get ready for Christmas.....Oops! And Hubby's birthday (Christmas Eve)

So, please excuse me if I'm missing from the blogging world for any length of time. If I'm not around much be assured I'm either busy, exhausted or my brain has exploded!

How Many?

Today, we ventured out with the family to Bunnings to buy some vermin eradicators. Now, I'm not going to go into the disgusting details of why I need (yet again) to stock up on mouse traps and rat sack...but I do...Ugh.

Anyway I'm way off topic as to what I was going to post about today.

As per usual whenever we venture out...all six of us...we tend to get a fair amount of attention. People tend to stare. I can see them do a quick head count of the number of children, some smile and nod happily, some shake their heads, some actually comment...

'Wow, you have your hands full'

'Haven't you guys heard of television?'

'You do know what causes it don't you?'

Um, yes, yes we do.

We tend to get this where ever we go and today was no exception, luckily this trip was mostly positive, at other times I have either been deeply insulted by people's reactions or  really annoyed.......for example;

A while ago I was at a bit of a gathering. It was not with my usual social circle, so making small talk with relative strangers was a difficult occupation. Around my friends who know me well and understand me and my family I usually feel like a little ray of sunshine. Shiny, happy, sparkling. At an event with strangers I feel dull, boring and over-sensitive. This was not helped by a conversation I had struck up with someone just introduced to me;

‘So, are any of these yours?’ asked the person in question, indicating the group of children playing happily in the garden.

‘Um, yes’ I answered.

‘Oh, how many?

‘Well....all of them actually.’

The shock in this persons face was instantly readable as he took in the children playing in the vicinity.

Miss Two was happily eating grass at my feet.

Mr 5 was racing around with a soccer ball at a million miles per hour.

Miss 8 & Mr 11 were playing sword fights with a pair of sticks a short distance away.

‘All...... all...all of them?’  This person stuttered unbelievably.

I paused and watched the little monsters for a few moments.

I guess in this day and age having four children can be perceived as unusual. People who first meet us and find out the sheer number of our offspring usually regard us with a mixture of disbelief, amusement and a bit of an idea that we may be half crazy. Maybe they are right. But the decision we made when we were having our family is that we wanted a big one.  We love the craziness, we love the chaos, we love the sheer love that we give and receive in return. That’s not to say that these things don’t occur in smaller families...of course they do.  I’m just saying the right decision for us was four. Four felt right. Four felt complete. Four made us.

I turned to my questioner with a mixture of defiance and pride. I looked him straight in the eye.

‘Yes’ I said firmly “They are all mine....... each and everyone’

To say this conversation irked me was an understatement. Maybe I'm ultra-sensitive about people regarding my family in a negative light..and so I should be. My family is the centre of my existence and of who I am.

Anyway, rant over, I have death to dish out to rodents.

Fridays are For Us....

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For as long as I can remember Hubby has been working 7 days a week.
'The poor man' I hear you thinking, 'He must be exhausted' Yes, yes, I'm sure he is. He works hard to provide for us and we are lucky that he has a good job and therefore I can stay at home and simply 'Be Mum'.

But.....his working so much does not lead to a harmonious life. It leads to a fair amount of stress, for both of us. It also leads to the inevitable. Which is that he is missing out on the kids growing up.

Because they are growing up. Really fast, scarily fast. And I'm a little sad, because once it's gone we can't get it back again.

Mr 11 is leaving childhood. He is so responsible and so mature that sometimes I feel like shaking him and crying 'Just be a kid again!' He helps me to take care of his younger siblings, he cleans up around the house. It is wonderful, but it is also sad. Sad because his young and carefree days are nearly over. He no longer plays whimsical games of make-believe, he no longer sees shapes in the clouds and fairies in rainbows. The adult world is beckoning...and he is beginning to follow.

Miss 8 is losing her selfish streak. She is beginning to see that there are other people in the world besides her. She is starting to care. Yesterday, when she saw that her brother ran dead last in his athletics carnival running race she promptly burst into tears. On our return home she dug out her second place ribbon from last year and gave it to him. It was a beautiful moment. She still has a vivid and exciting imagination, yet she now knows that the world isn't rose-tinted as she previously thought....at night she worries about everyone and everything, she still falls asleep in my arms.

Mr 5 is on overload. He is cramming so much into that little brain of his at school that by the time he gets home he is ready to explode. Running around outside helps him to let off steam, yet a fair amount of that steam gets directed at his sisters and I. His teacher tells me that he puts in 110% with everything he does. So, by the time school is over for the day I pick up the shattered and exhausted shell that is my boy. His temper flares, he cries easily, he falls asleep in the car, he refuses to do his homework, eat his dinner or have a bath. Everything is a struggle. Sometimes, I'm almost relieved when he is asleep for the night. And yet, he can be the kindest, sweetest little boy I know...and his cuddles are truly something wonderful.

Miss 2 is a delight. That difficult and demanding stage of toddler hood seems to be finished and she is starting to become a 'real' little girl. She plays dollies endlessly, chatting away happily in her little made up language to all her charges. She dances to her own beat, kicking her legs in the air, twirling like a little fairy ballerina. She says new words everyday. Today we were playing 'doctors' and she attempted the word 'stethiscope'...with hilarious results. She is the fussiest eater going. Sometimes she seems to exist on only air and yogurt. I worry endlessly, she is two and a half and yet weighs the same as a one year old. She is teeny-tiny, with her little pixie face. Her babyishness is melting away, despite my attempts to prolong it, despite my desperation to hold onto it, my last baby is changing before my very eyes.

And so, with all of this in mind, I finally told my beloved Hubby about my fears. My fear of them growing up without him. And so, he has promised to spend a day with us.... tomorrow, Friday, is our day....and I'm going to make sure we embrace it with both hands, for all of us.




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The Birds and the Bees.

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For the past couple of months, our family has played host to a bustling community of silk worms. These creepy, crawly, ugly things have munched their way through a ridiculous amount of mulberry leaves and I have found myself constantly cleaning up large piles of silk worm poop....nice.

A week or two ago they started to spin cocoons, and it was bliss not having to scrounge the neighbourhood for leaves to feed the little buggers.

Then, wonder of wonders we had moths, a huge shoebox full of the things.

Now according to the knowledgeable Miss 8, the moths don't need food...we just wait for them to lay eggs. But while we wait for the egg-laying to begin the moths are engaged in 'other' activities.

This was brought to my attention by a rather hysterical Miss 8 one afternoon......

'Mum! Mum! The moths are doing something weird!'
'What is it honey?' I asked, none the wiser.
'They're stuck together and they won't come apart!'
She showed me her moth collection and they were all....every single one of the gross little things....... were engaged in, well, moth sex.
'Look Mum, look! Their butts are stuck together! How do I make them stop?'
'We-ll, you don't want to make them stop, they're making babies'
Miss 8 stared at me in horrified disbelief while she digested this information.
'You mean they're doing that S-E-X thing?' she whispered
'Yes, yes they are'
'Oh eeeeew! That is so disgusting!
We stared at the little moth nymphos in silence for a few minutes.....they were really going for it.

'Ugh!' said Miss 8 as she gathered up her box of pro-creating insects, 'I'm going to put these under my bed'

'Why are you doing that' I asked

'Because, these guys need some serious privacy!'

Wham, Bam, Thank you Ma'am!

Anyone driving with small children in the car may be all too familiar with scenes of pure and utter mayhem and of course, the distraction that this can lead too.

Inevitably, Mr 5 and Miss 8 will partake in some form of fisticuffs, Miss 2 will whinge, cry and moan and Mr 11 will provide a running commentary....'Are you sure this is the right way? The speed limit is 60 here you know. There's another car coming! This music is lame, can I change it?'

So driving for me involves lots of gritting of teeth and chanting 'Stay calm, stay calm'

Yesterday was no exception. After the torturous drive from the GC to Brisbane, kids packed into my people mover like sardines and Hubby absent from proceedings as usual, we made it to the park where I was meeting the assorted cousins, Aunty's and Uncles.

The next step was finding a car park.

Aaaarrgggh! Nightmare of Nightmares there is nothing I hate more than trying to squeeze my humongous mover of small people into a parking space created for people who drive a Honda Jazz or a Nissan Micra.

So, with assembled children screaming, yelling, whinging, crying and instructing, I 'attempted' to move the monstrosity into a space of infinitesimal proportions. In I went, slowly, carefully. I backed out a bit to make absolutely sure, then back in, gently, so gently. It was then that I heard it....the sound that all drivers dread....that unmistakable scrape of metal kissing metal.

Faaaaaarrrrkkkk!

My car had taken a distinct liking to the car in the space next door and had shared its affections. On it's back bumper.

I discarded my parking attempt. Parked a short distance away and then raced back, with kidlets in tow to asses the damage of my vehicle's paramour.

A bump, bruise, scratch on the bumper was there for all the world to see. I was horrified, mortified, beside myself. The kids were all standing there and saying (loudly)
'Ooooh Mum, you hit that car, Oooooh, you are in so much trouble, Ooooh the police are going to come.' Thanks a lot kids, my confidence has just sky rocketed.

Now, I wasn't sure what to do next. Do I travel around the enormous park and ask each and every person if it was their car? Or do I leave a note?

So I wrote a quick letter apologising and giving my name and number. Then I tried to have fun at the park with the kids...which was virtually impossible. I kept waiting for the phone to ring and for some irate person to curse me to the heavens...but it didn't.

It was later, much later that the call finally came. I had made it home, with my sanity barely intact, Hubby had made an appearance not long after and it was he that took the call.

'Oh, the poor dear' said the lovely car owner over the phone, 'Tis but a scratch, tell her to not worry.....Oh, and thank her for leaving a note, that was very considerate'

Considerate? Me? The person who just rear ended your car? Are you quite sure?

So despite the new bump that my monster truck has just acquired I now feel immensely relieved that I encountered one of the few people that may have viewed the predicament in my favour. Wonders will never cease.

And I have learnt my lesson....Me + Small parking spaces = Epic fail!