Still Schlepping. . .

I love having older children. L6 stayed with us trying to save the world from nappy landfill all day. He made a scary mask with one of our bags. He scared his sister.

He picked up do-it-yourself jigsaws and wouldn't begin until he could do his with his sister.

And I bought something really pretty for a cute baby boy who was supposed to make his entrance into the world today. C'mon little nephew!! Wriggle free!!!

I also met someone who actually reads this blog! Strange but true! Hello new friend :)

Been Schlepping Nappies Again.

Home.
Jammies.
Bed.

Hmm, you'll have to get used to crappy photos since they want about a billion dollars to fix my good camera.

Cutsie Stuff

I finished P3's ballet wrap, but still need to put the ribbon ties on. It may be predictable, but she is gonna look so incredibly cute.

Meanwhile, L6 is really into doing his own blow wave hairdo at the moment. That's pretty sweet too.

Growing

I'm just growing potatoes.

My sister on the other hand. . .

by crikey!

(I'm sorry, I know you'll want to lynch me for posting this, but you'll really want to see it in years to come when everything shrinks back down. And it will! But I'll take it down if it's kinda private and all. . . nah, you wanna share eh?)

Note - the teen pics are not hers but M14's. Well I hope so anyway.

You Know You Are A Grown Up When. . .

*The most exciting thing that happens all day is you get given two tomato seedlings that are supposed to be really special acid-free-fleshy-meaty-nice ones. Even though they got a bit trashed in the unseasonal hail last week. So you decide to let them live on your kitchen windowsill for a while to mollycoddle them.



*You son is techno-savvy enough that in place of drawing his latest Zac Power creation, he grabs the digital camera to take a photo, print it out, cut around it, and add a strap.



*You blog about a funky 60's stripper record and no-one comments except your sister. Oh wait, that not a Grown Up, that's Nigel No Mates.

A Nana Post (Mostly)

We bought a big bowl. I've wanted a heavy baking, mixing thing for yonks and it was too much of a bargain to resist. So we baked.



And since I'm being the poster girl for suburban domesticity, I can hardly resist this little etsy beauty.

Watch out if you are on my Christmas present list.

I'm just trying to work out who it would most suit. . .

This Weekend

We remembered

explored

anxiously climbed

soaked up the coast

and successfully (!) yanked out a large stump using the car.

Taming the Spikey Aloe(?) Jungle

Now the back garden is looking more civilized, we are having a crack at the front. It's a disaster.

Bokey Husband wanted to keep them, but I thought they looked like mutant spiders. And made a great house for rats. They had to go.

Turns out it was only 4 plants creating that wilderness. I left him one, but only 'cos I ran out of steam. The bits that are left are theoretically stumps. Any smart ideas on how to remove them gratefully accepted.

Oh and also what the heck to put in their place?

How did we take 51

completely crappy photos today?

No news on camera fixing front then.

Grandparental indulgence galore. (Who else can construct an entire boat, complete with working sails one afternooon in the playroom with a few bits of broom and a swag of rope? Only Bunce.)

Painting on plates. (P3's idea - I discover paper plates cost double the price of plastic ones.)

Eating outside by L6's Diwali candle holder creation.
Bit of green.

Bit of wet.

Just call me a freaking GURU

A parenting guru no less. Now I'm envious of all those people I know who have two really similar children, close in age, who potter off and play nicely, because I have a kinda stroppy boy and a reasonable gap and a girly girl and I tell you they are chalk and cheese and the bickering was doing my short-haired head in.

So I decided on a zero tolerance policy. But unfortunately to a geeky six year old, time out isn't all that serious a consequence. When you are a loner anyway, and you get to hang out on your bed, read books and chat to Baboo, time out just wasn't cutting it. And it was becoming frequent, as well as inconsequential.

So I decided to cut the negative and go for positive reinforcement in my controlling mother behaviour modification attempts. First I had to figure out what was his currency? See - ha ha - total guru who has read too much Dianne Levy! I have the lingo. Then I had a total brainwave. The Power of course. Zac Power.

So I concocted this hideous chart - forgive the graphics, he helped me.

And what do you know? It works. Okay, maybe it is a 24 hour thing, but today? It worked. This is my two children reading together in L6's bed.

Which was apparently hilarious for P3:

And so just for today - I won. They played for hours. Never mind the playing and sharing, there was cuddles. Kissing galore. Mama-heaven.

What's more someone I have never met sent me surprise homemade goodies and chocolate in the post.

*Contended sigh*

Yeah okay, the chocolate didn't survive unopened till the photo.

Wise Boy

L6 has turned into a computer boy this year - something I have tried hard to avoid up till now. Thankfully (and with crossed fingers) his lust for car games has been replaced with an interest in Google Earth. He only gets half an hour, and I'd much prefer he travels the world for that 30 minutes. But yes, that is a wee tear on his cheek. Much disappointment when he couldn't find snowy hills. Luckily Blokey Husband was able to point him to the Himalayas.

He can navigate without a mouse too, which drives me insane personally.


And I know you are supposed to wait till labour day, but I couldn't. Went out and bought some green stash.

Surprisingly keen on flowers at the moment. Hoping for a colourful summer. But of course, you never know when a bee is gonna be there. . . (loving that as the new family wisdom. How had I forgotten huuuuuuuuge bee?? Making this blog make sense to about, um, two people in the entire universe. Sorry. How rude. I'd explain if it wasn't completely nonsensical and dull in the telling. Funny in the remembering though.)

From L6

Me [saying goodnight for the millionth time]: Goodnight L6. You have to go to sleep so you are not too tired for tomorrow.
L6: What is tomorrow?
Me: A new day. You never know what might happen in a new day.
L6: Unless you plan it. [Pause] But you can't plan a beesting, because you never know if a bee is going to be there.

Nope. You never know if a bee is gonna be there.

Today

Blokey Husband is home. I don't have pics. He looks about the same though.

Unlikely

One sleep to go and so few scrummy chocolates left. . . will any of them make it until Blokey Husband gets home?

Unlikely.

Turns out my tree which I worried was dead before it blossomed, now has leaves. Red leaves. And also green leaves. Not red leaves turning green, or green leaves turning red, or some browny red/green leaves. Just red leaves. And green leaves.

Unlikely.

P3 loves make up. Perhaps she'll be a talented make up artist when she grows up?

Unlikely.

Mates

Congratulations to my friend L who quickly and efficiently popped out baby number 5 last night! Welcome little boy :) We can't wait to get to know you.

Because she was somewhat busy today we got to spend the day with R6, and he and L6 had a great day just hanging out. We went to soccer prize giving and spent an hour clapping while they got their trophies and then pulled funny faces while I tried to photograph them.

I tell you, if I ever get to find the man who wrote Zac Power, I'm gonna give him a great big lip-smacking kiss. Not that they are great books or anything, but the way they have turned my boy onto fiction and creative play is making this mummy so happy. Those boys played the afore-mentioned Spy Game most of the day. Then they sat down to draw and cut out Spy Pads. The Pulsetronic V-66 Spy Pad to be precise. Is there a happier sight than two little boys sitting down drawing together at their own suggestion?

So there you go L, I hope you get some sleep tonight, and when you get a chance to catch up, your middle boy was a total star today.

Nice Stuff

We had a lovely day, with so many photo moments, but I wasn't on the ball enough to catch them.

It was sunny enough to have a scamper on the beach and rainy enough to curl up with new library books. P3 in our bed with the flowery scarf I had been using to tame my wild hair ("Can I wear that scarf? Now I look like an old woman.") flicking through her books was the cutest thing ever not caught on camera.

L6 and P3 have been playing lots of Spy Game (those timeouts for squabbling yesterday totally paying dividends). I love Spy Game. Spy Game is the game you would make up yourself for your children to play, only I didn't, they did. Score! Spy Game means lots of hiding quietly out of sight then occasionally scampering from room to room giggling and casting furtive glances my way. Followed by more silent hiding.

During Spy Game I got a chance to read my library book, which looks really like one of those books you'd have to hate, but actually I quite like it.

Just as you think it is going to get righteous, it tells you how impossible parenting is nowadays because of the minefield of experts with a million rules. Yay that.

Anyway, it has lots of scary stuff, and yes-moments (I'm only up to chapter three, but lots so far anyway) and actually tries to do something about it, which is always heartening. But the point is, I was thinking was an uber-mother I was because my children were running around aimlessly outside playing together, so I thought I'd go and wallow in their wholesome creative play.

I found P3 down the side of the house in a jail constructed from soccer goals, and her jailer brother handing her imaginary nasty jail food which she gleefully informed me was "a chocolate bar filled with poos!".

Wholesome. Nice.

Fickle

I know, I know. No bloody persistence. Gives up as easily as she follows a whim.

My lovely mummy came and chopped off all the dreaddies today. And she brought wine and chocolate, so isn't she the best in the whole wide world?

So yeah, I gave up. I know the waxiness was supposed to go - although seeing just how very much there was I'm totally sceptical on that front now. But the weight and courseness woudn't, and while I should have bargained for that, having it stuck on your head is really quite illuminating. And hot and uncomfortable. My children didn't want to cuddle it, so the last 12 hours was just countdown until it could come off and I could breeeeeeathe again. You know how nail polish can suffocate you? Well it was something like that. But bigger. Much bigger.

But y'know? I'm never gonna regret not having dreadlocks now. And I certainly won't regret cutting them off. Now I'm baldish and ugly, but I'm still brave. Or stupid. Probably both.

So I guess the moral of the story is that hackneyed old 'go for it'. If something is making you miserable, change it. Um, Blokey Husband, that doesn't apply to wives, okay? And that was my midlife crisis, done and dusted. Less destructive than an affair, and cheaper than a sports car. Hurrah!

Strawberries And Icing Sugar

for pudding.

Really Big Ones.

Yeah, they look cute enough. But this afternoon when I asked them what they wanted to do, the answer:

"Fart and fight."

Accurate, yes. Poetic, yes. Just not so sweet and lovely.