If you are a bookish type, then this is fantastic. People can be wonderful.
They can also be grumpages, for no good reason, which was me today. However, if you are a grouch on a Monday, then it's pretty handy if you went for a spending spree on the previous Friday, and chose a very swift-acting seller. This turned up invitingly in my mailbox:
Inside was a bunch of this (merino blended with silk):
Well in theory anyway - daylight savings started today.
We braved the cold and wet for a quick sail around the harbour. You'll notice I managed to avoid being photographed in one of those deliciously yellow sou'westers.
P5 tried to drink rain. L8 wore three coats and was as mad as ever. It was all in honour of Grandmas J's birthday.
I finished my pink yarn. It has beads, but I should have put more through it. Learning, learning, learning. One day I'm going to have a stall at the local artisan market and sell all my homespun yarn.
P5 decided to write a chapter book this morning. First there was the draft copy:
Next she published it. Daddy helped her out by typing chapter 4 when she started flagging, but otherwise it was all her own work. I especially like that she wanted to add a contents page, and told me that books often begin on page two.
at kindy, which was practically a civic duty now I don't even have little ones at kindy. The kindy kids did not spin this: I did, when I got home. But they did inspire me to hook a treadmill up to my home electricity meter, because man, kids love to treadle stuff if they get to see it move. It'd save a fortune.
This morning I woke up to find L8 busily sorting his lego by colour. I have heard of adults arranging lego by colour, but to be honest I always thought those people were kind of strange. Actually that hasn't changed. But still, I aided the madness by going out and buying compartmentalized containers. You should have seen the joy on his face. It was totally worth it, even though I have a foreboding feeling about the millions of hours of lego sorting in my near future.
Meanwhile. Mutti played with P5, designing and creating a doll and her clothes. And a bed. And a wardrobe. P5 laid it all out for Aunty Iz to see here:
Yesterday was cross country day and whoop! neither of my kids came last! That's pretty good going for us. I'm afraid I do have really bad video of it. P5 in black doing some batwing propelling as her jacket falls off, and L8 (his was really terrible as I did that thing where you turn it off when you point it at them and turn it on when you lollop around and gossip with people - gah!) right at the beginning. He's that one bouncing around right at the back, but honest, he overtook at least ten other kids by the end, so I reckon he's just pacing himself ;)
I was going to spare the world, but then I'm sure my mum and sister will get a good giggle out of the striding legs, so I'll put them at the end.
Meanwhile this impish one:
said "I got stitch in my legs but even when my legs were all stitched up I kept on running"
and this freckled one: accidentally ate a piece of lego today. It had to happen. You aren't really a true lego nerd until you eat some.
I've been a bit of a slacker on the photo front lately as sick children then sick mummy aren't the most thrilling things in the world, but here's some for posterity that I forgot to blog last week - Husband's sugary birthday cards. One from P5 with a pretty flower: and one from L8 that reads I hope you have a happy birthday without me vomating. Feeling the guilt from putting the kibosh on Father's Day I guess.
Apart from that I don't have much life at the mo, but I do have sugar, sugar,thanks to nova, and that's pretty much enough. Go on, open the Pandora's Box that it is. . .
Hmmm rugby is really not our thing, but the kids were all wearing black to school around the country, and well we didn't want to be party poopers about it, because everybody knows that whether it's about rugger or not, dressing up rocks. Yes, that large black pineapple top is emerging out of P5's head. It's part of her Amy Winehouse tribute look. And while we are on a fashion kinda bent, just look what I scored off trademe for the princely sum of $14 today - rockabilly heaven: Can't wait till that quirky baby arrives!
My internet knitty/nappy girls were chatting about blogs vs. reality so we decided to fess up and write a reality blog. I'm happy to report we are all pretty much as useless as each other. Now evening has come and I realize I didn't take a picture of anything today, so I have nothing to blog, so what the hell, it's gonna have to be my reality blog post. . .
Um. . . woken up at 7 by husband sneezing many times. Realize he's getting bug we've all had just in time for his birthday. Pretend to be asleep. L8 comes in and hops into bed and tries to strangle, um, hug me. Ask the time. Husband says quarter past. L8 says he's wrong and it's 7.17 and proceeds to lecture us how 7.17 is very different from 7.15. Get up. L8 shrieks no. . . .huggle buggle stay in bed. Tell him I have to go to the loo and make tea. He says I can get up if I promise to come back. I say no.
Make tea. Tell L8 to stop being raucous as P5 is still asleep. P5 wakes up and announces the night was so short she just went to sleep and had time to say quackquackquack and it is morning. Make porridge. Tell children to stop squabbling over heater. P5 whinges that L8 is doing something evil. I remind her he's joking and to laugh at him, not Siren McBiron to me. Tell them to come eat. Tell them to stop putting half a pot of jam in the porridge. They insist it has to be purple. I insist it's very expensive and they are eating jam for breakfast with a small sprinkling of porridge. L8 runs around going "My bottom hurts of course it does 'cos I whacked it" in silly voice. I join in once, foolishly encouraging it. He repeats it a billion times. I tell him to shushy 'cos he hurts my head. I make lunches.
I feed everyone up on antibiotics while they squabble about who will be first and how they don't want the same medicine syringe. I give P5 ibuprofen too in case fever comes back because I think she's okay but don't want her to look crappy and vomit at school.
I get all their clothes out. I tell L8 to shower. He requires more brekkie, so I make toast with copious Nutella. I tell him he's too slow and I try to shower, but before I get in he decides now is his time. He showers. Husband dresses P5 and when I try to shower she's arguing about him brushing her hair. I brush her hair.
I shower. P5 is hiding in room. I tell her if she is quick with shoes and teeth she can go on the computer. She rushes. She plays friv. L8 keeps 'helping'. She squeals. I make him step two steps away from the computer about 7 times.
Husband is ironing second shirt as first one he ironed is missing a button. We drive to school because I'm too sick to walk. P5 stays happily as teacher distracts her when bell goes talking about doing running record again. Yay.
I get home and sit in squalor catching up on internet and not tidying kitchen. I google "if you are coughing up green stuff do you have a chest infection or can it be viral". I learn I don't need antibiotics but should rest and breathe steam. I decide I really have to clean up and make self cancer-inducing smoked beef toastie and strong coffee. Get annoyed because courier comes and drops off postage bags here instead of my mum's place.
I try to book husband's birthday dinner. The phone system doesn't work and she repeatedly tells me to dial one for the restaurant and I dial one and she tells me again to dial one for the restaurant, repeat 20 times. I get mad. I try to book a massage for husband for birthday treat at massage place two doors down. No-one answers door. I try to book rockclimbing for birthday day. They say I don't need to book for just four.
I do work and curse wholesale orders. I waste 15 minutes typing out morning to bore internet friends instead of vacuuming. I realize it's almost lunchtime and I have achieved sod all, unlike this blog woman, who would have made house into Super Mario caper-filled fun with homemade bread, wholesome writing encouragements and crafty correspondence satchels. Dammit. Tomorrow.
At last. L8 was back at school and P5 was totally cheered by a visit from Mutti and Bunce. The girls drew. We've got Mutti hooked on our new colourix crayons/pastels/watercolours. I'd try to describe them, but you really won't get it until you have a go. The best I can do is ssssssssssssssssssilky.