Oh What a Beautiful Mor-ning!

 

Early mornings have never been my 'thing'. An early morning, to me at least, consists of getting up before the sun. (it's just not natural!!)

When I was much younger my mother would be up before the sun making bread or other food related activities.( She is an awesome woman ) A friends mother used to tell me that she loved getting up early. She got time to herself and the added bonus of her kids all being asleep. I used to think the same of late nights. But lately instead of waking either just before the kids or with them I have started to get up at least an hour before them and there are some benefits.

#1 Waking up without someone asking you a million questions or telling you about the dream they had. Granted these things still happen but my brain is functioning above the basic level by that time  and I can actually tune off, without any ones feeling being hurt. If I have just woken up, a sudden comment of 'Oh for goodness sake! I just woke up!!' is usually barked and the child/adult is rather offended by my tone.

#2 You can actually do things in the mornings with out the morning rush. I didn't know that was possible... like write this between the morning coffee and the kids wake up alarm, well most of it.

#3 Witness the sun in all it's glory rise over the horizon! Now thats a reason right there. Except for this morning... it is cloudy (and windy AND cold.)

#4 On the mornings My Beloved is home (and hasn't been driving night shift)
we can have actual grown up conversations. About, well ANYTHING AT ALL! No spelling things out or G-rating the conversation. No looks above heads or subtly giving each other hand signals. And no sitting cuddled up on the outdoor couch with a child of varying size squeezing their way in between. Who would have thought such a thing was possible!

Oh yes this 'Early Morning' business is OK by me. I think I will keep it up.

Oh dear they're awake... gotta go!

Got Milk?

A friend has a 'Moo Ta-ow'. The same friend milks her cows and always has milk and cream on hand. I hate to pay the ridiculous price of milk though I do. I always have a few bags of milk powder as well as 24 'boxes' of long life milk at hand. I will never ever, ever buy that $2.00 milk from any of the supermarkets and will buy the most local milk brand I can get.

My friend has finally succumbed to my blatant suggestion that she keep me in supply of REAL milk. So now I drive four minutes and get out my coke and 2l ice coffee bottles and take home 'straight outta the cow' milk.

 It was a horrendous idea for the three little girls who had not ever had REAL milk. The older two used to have it all the time and I grew up on the stuff. But to the girls it was akin to eating a live baby cow... or something. 

Little Miss almost vomited in her mouth when I told her where the milk had come from and Miss Independent was not having any of it. Miss Thinker was a little more receptive and told me she would try it but if she didn't like it I was not to get it ever again. She added Okay? to that statement, which made me laugh, she thought she was making a deal. I poured the ice cold milk into a small glass and Miss Thinker took a small sip. 

"It tastes like milk mum.' she said 

"Give me a try", Little Miss said, " It does! Wow it tastes like actual milk! OMG"

"Mmmmmm" Mr Cheeky informed me.

 

Miss Independent was next to try it and it got her seal of approval (she is fussy about anything without sugar). I then started telling the girls about all the diary products I was considering making now, butter, buttermilk as a result. Cottage cheese (kinda), sour cream,yogurt and feta cheese.

 Naturally a week has passed since I have been using REAL milk and I have not even managed to separate the cream from the milk... I just shake the bottle. It is easier that way...

Now That's What I'm Talking About!

Today I kicked My Beloved's butt. Four times in fact,whilst bowling. I didn't even try to aim... It just turns out, even though 'toss and catch' sessions in day to day life leave My Beloved's eyes watering or have him flinching and covering vulnerable bits, when the Wii is involved I turn into some kind hand eye coordinated Grand Master. (Of course I could just be pretending to be clumsy in day to day life... What? A girl gotta get her kicks somehow!)

So after my second strike and other so called spares or some such thing. I had a dance across the lounge room carpet, Micheal Jackson style. Well a little bit of Micheal and then some kind of hommie/gansta arm motions thrown into the mix. I was also at one point, inches from his face holding my 'finger and thumbs in the shape of an L' and 'waving them around like I just don't care' singing in what I think could very vaguely be described as a RnB like tune 'Loser, yeah yeah, yeah, loser'.

It was hilarious. My Beloved was adjusting the angle that the ball was to roll down the alley (keep in mind this is all happening on a television screen)to knock down those pin things. Mean while I was waving my arm and following through with hip and butt swings, often balancing on one foot like a ballet dancer but no where near as gracefully. And I just kept on hitting those pins over.

He was starting to become rather upset about the whole thing and was 'Gonna take it serial this game' he said at the beginning of game three. That was when I started saying 'Bring it oooooooooon'. It must be said I was having a ball! Miss Thinker and Little Miss were laughing at mum and were barracking for dad because as Miss Thinker said. 'He needs all the help he can get!'

He actually won game three by two points, which soooooooooo doesn't mean anything! I triumphed again in game four! Yeah!

I don't know why he wont play Trivial Pursuit, Uno, Poker and now Wii games with me... It's really got me beat.

Ants in His Pants, Mum

 Our dog Buster has been barking at 'nothing' a lot lately. Day and Night and sometimes followed by a pained yelp. I figured he was annoying something like the Frill-necked Lizards or maybe the Lacy Monitor who occasionally calls in on his way from the dam to the back of our place.

 Today we were visited by an 'Ta-kid-na'. More commonly known as an Echidna (E-kid-na). He was surprising happy for Mr Cheeky and I to sit down and watch him and video him for five minutes whilst he continued digging for ants or grubs. He had ants crawling all over him and Mr Cheeky remarked about how he thought it had ants on its pants. That, and where was the 'Ta-kid-na's mum and dad?

Now we know what Buster has been barking at constantly and it even explains the yelps we sometimes hear. This fella has been roaming the front and side gardens that back onto the house. Eating what ever insects he comes upon. Cute but not so cuddly pest control! 

He was not too bothered by our presence and spent a while digging into this stump. We even managed to get some video of him where he looked at the camera for a little while as well. The rest of the kiddies loved watching it when they got back from school.

Thanks to the drought breaking here in Queensland we have seen a boom of our local native animals The Furry, The Spiky and The Scaly. 

Oh Mr Sandman. Bring Me a Dream.

Mr Cheeky went to bed early last night. 6.30pm, a miracle. I put him in bed as he fell asleep sitting in Littlest Misses's walker (don't ask). Everyone was informed that any noise would now no longer be tolerated. He had not had an afternoon sleep and if he was woken than that would be it. He would be up all night. He has never been one for too much sleep. Not like his mummy she loves sleep. But he could always be relied upon to sleep though the night. Well, not anymore. Not if My Beloved is to be believed.


My Beloved informed me in each of the seven phone calls we made to each other last night, that when he had finished his taxi shift (about 2am) he wanted some lamb roast left in the warmer for him. 'No dramas,' I assured him. At 11.30 I called it a night. I decided I would sleep on the couch as My Beloved was going to eat the left over roast and watch a movie. It was our Wedding anniversary after all. 9 years married and no present for each other. I didn't get him one because I say that September 13 is our real anniversary because it is 19 years we have been 'married', though not technically. And he didn't get me one because he has death wish.


When My Beloved came home. He came home to see My Cheeky sitting on the dining table colouring in (forms for the high school) and drinking milk. Littlest Miss and I asleep , and if truth be told snoring on the couch. 


'What ya doing mate?' he said to a wide awake 3 year old.


'Hi dad. I draw.'


I woke up at 3.00am to see them both on the couch, a blanket over them and a plate of roast each watching American Chopper. After asking why 'He' was a wake and was told about dads welcome home. I realised...  That dream I had about Mr Cheeky playing with his toys, loudly in his room earlier that night. Was not a dream. I also realised 6.30 isn't a good time for Mr Cheeky to go to bed and he doesn't always sleep though the night!

We watched the Dawn service on telly today. We do it every year. It is important to, I feel. Miss Thinker, not so much. She was a little put out.


'We learned about this ALL day yesterday mum.'


'Did you?'


'Yes. We didn't do ANYTHING but gullupily.'


'That is good. You would have liked that. Wouldn't you?'


'Yes.  But we didn't do number facts or anything.' 




The Ode always gives me goose bumps and the Last Post is beautiful. I was thinking about how the Man Child is at the age of some of those brave boys who went and lost their lives on that cove. So sad. Of course looking out my door this afternoon to see him rolling around the yard with his dog made me grateful that he was not living back then... Something tells me he would not have survived. But then I don't think there are many boys his age these days who would... in this country at least.  


I am grateful for the ANZAC's sacrifice and the sacrifice that so many have made since then. Who, in one way or another have ensured that my 16 yr old can roll around in the yard with his dog. Safe and in no danger. There are so many others in this world who can not.


I read comments this year about the tradition of remembering the ANZAC's is akin to 'keeping the war propaganda machine going'. I was saddened to hear that. Obviously the point of ANZAC day is really missed by those people. I hope my children remember what it is really about... 


Next year I think we should go to the Dawn service.

Shooting Blanks

Well. He survived! He was put under... hence the 'luxury' Vasectomy. I waited outside with Littlest Miss & Mr Cheeky. I am pretty sure that children, surgical equipment and Testes are not a good mix. We waited outside so Mr Cheeky could run riot in the van... Yes it is big enough for that.


The nurse came out to let me know it was done and I could come in to help wake him up. I should have taken a photo, but despite how I may seem I am not that mean. So there he lay. Asleep with a sheet, ice pack, shirt & socks on, a common thing with men in the vasectomy room I am assured. 


'Hey Darls.' I said


'Oh are they going to let you in?'


'No. It is done now.'


'Is it?'


'Yes. How do you feel now your not a real man anymore?' I joked


'Is it really done? Are you sure?'


'Yep. All done everything is intact and all is well.'


'Well I don't remember it.'  he was looking at his watch and trying to comprehend that 45mins had passed since he could actually remember anything.


'Well. That didn't even hurt at all.' he said.


The nurse and I giggled and the doctor came to check on him.


'I wont bother telling you anything,' he said to My Beloved ' You wont remember anything.'


 He then told me that for the next 48 there was to be no walking around (toilet trips excepted) ice every fifteen minuets and no lifting anything for a week.When it was decided he could get up I helped him dress. It was funny to see a grown man a little confused about which part of his slacks were the front and even funnier to see him try to put them on! 


'Ok' I said after buckling up the kids. 'Do you want to get something on the way home?'


'Yes, Mitre 10 is having a closing down sale and I saw decking oil going very cheap.' He said. 'Oh and I want some yummies.' he laughed, oh yes off his head.


'Ok. We will get that later. How does KFC sound?'


'Yes. Some yummies.'

'Ok'


'Did I 'Veet' enough area. Did they say anything about that?'


'Yes. They were impressed, in fact it was the first thing they said to me. What a good job you did.'


'Did they? Good.'


So clearly THAT was a serious concern for him. Who'd have 'thunk' it?
I drove home astounded at how many bumps were in the local roads but didn't worry too much about avoiding every one. I mean it not like he'd remember. ;)

Click Goes the Shears Boys 'Snip. Snip. Snip.'

Well tomorrow is D-Day for 'Daddy'. He is off to the vet Doctor for the scariest thing to happen to My Beloved. He is to be spaded given the Snip. Now he really is not looking forward to it and has 'ordered' the 'Luxury' Vasectomy ( which from what he says basically involves an extra bit of numbing gel Before the numbing needle.) Instead of paying $450 we will be forking out $750. My Father has for years, been offering to do it with two bricks. My younger brother often joked about using a rubber band, 'You know, like they do with sheep!'


The Veet tube was out tonight and it was a laugh. Not one to read, ask or even listen to Instructions My Beloved couldn't remember exactly how 'much' he'd be 'Veeting'. He says he was joking when he thought he should, just to be on the safe side 'Veet' from neck to knee. I assured him that it would not be necessary. He toddled off to the bathroom with his tube of hair remover.


 I was sitting at the dining table that, as soon as the dinner dishes were removed by the Man Child and Biggest Miss, I had turned into my painting area. There I sat painting 'dots'. Whilst my beautiful children washed and dried. I tell you I felt like the Queen. They didn't have to be asked and didn't fight whilst doing it. Of course all the talk of things getting chopped off and my off handed comment about daddy killing future siblings may just have scared them into it.


'Oh god... Emmmm.' My Beloved called from the bathroom.


'What' I laughed. Expecting to hear him tell me about how something was 'tingling' or some other thing. I walked actually,I pushed through the bathroom door (you have to push it open... My Beloved did hang it after all). Instead I saw My Beloved in the tub Veet tube next to him and a white substance all over his face, chest and hair.


'I think  went a little over board.' He said.


'What!' I said staring at him. He laughed and repeated himself. 'Your a D#&khead.' I said laughing and shut the door behind me. 


Yeah he is a funny man, but we will see how funny he is tomorrow. I have an esky stocked with ice and frozen peas to sit by the bed/couch for the next couple of days. I mean if he thinks I am going to pander to him whilst this is occurring well, he obviously  doesn't remember my labours! ;)

Need to Sleep More and Craft Less.

The crafty bug has struck once again. I am actually concerned at how 'craft obsessed' I have become. After really not caring AT ALL for two years or so about anything craft or D.I.Y related I seem to have turned into a  Insomniac Crafter. Insomniac is very fitting, Crafter? Well aside from probably not even being a real word I am not even sure that what I have been doing falls in the craft category.

 I have started and have nearly completed my version of an Aboriginal style dot painting. I am quite pleased with it. Though I am no artist.I also have an old water fountain, the rectangular type that you'd find in a hospital,oh about 20 years ago that I am fixing up. WELL that is not entirely true. My Father in Law will be doing any fixing up that involves skill. But I will certainly share the credit. 

The Cupboard, Door & Sign.

Then there is my 'First Aid Center' which really is just a cupboard. But because I found an old metal sign that says 'first aid' I figure sticking it to the cupboard door, which came from an old kitchen dresser of my Grandfather's and attaching that to a cupboard My Beloved's Father made for his bathroom qualifies it being called a center. ( Don't ask me how, thats just how my mind seems to work) I even went to the extreme of mixing the paints, specifically Rose Madder, Burnt Sienna &Cadmium Yellow to make a lovely Red... the only real problem with that is i cant mix the same colour again and it kinda needs a third coat... I should have used the roller.

            

 

Good Morning! ( Insert Sunny Smile Here)

I woke up to Biggest Miss in distress yesterday. Before my eyes were able to focus and my brain could actually make sense of the noises coming out of her  mouth, I could by the tone of her voice tell that this was an emergency.

'WHAT!' I said bolting upright preparing for some medical disaster.

'I need to go to town this morning.'

'Sorry, what?' Where was the blood i wondered as I looked her over. No blood. OK so maybe it is not so bad.

'I have to go to town before school. I don't have an art book.'

'Don't be ridiculous.' I said and laid back down. 'Put the kettle on please.'

I continued laying there staring at nothing in particular whilst I woke up. When she brought me in the coffee I was awake. Ten minuets later I decided that I could get up and begin the morning chaos.

'Where is your brother?' I said to everyone in the room.

'He's in his room. Playing.'

'Not Mr Cheeky, the Man Child!.'

'He has gone back to bed'.

'Sorry, What? ASHLEEEEEEEEEEE!'

 Turns out that because his work shirt and pants that he hung out by throwing them over the line under cover the night before were still damp, he felt that Tafe was obviously out of the question and he should just go back to bed. After a discussion I wont share here as it involved my ranting about him getting other clothes to wear and to be quick smart about it. He was dressed and accepting of his 'fate'.

When the lunches were being organised and hair was being brushed with five minuets to go before the bus and twenty minuets before it arrived at the local store (a god send on mornings like yesterday) I realised that Miss Thinker was nowhere to be seen and I had not seen her all morning.

'Wheres your sister?' I said and called out to her.

'I'm in bed' was the calm and matter of fact reply.

'What do you MEAN your in bed? Get up! Get dressed and HURRY UP!'

It turns out that because the Man Child's work shirt and pants that he hung out by throwing them over the line under cover the night before were still damp, she felt that if HE was going back to bed it was just as obvious she should as well! Honestly, they must get it from their father!

'Mum'

'Yes?'

'I really need that Art book today.'

After a few seconds of feeling as though I was depriving the entire world of a future Donatello, Raphael or the other two Ninja turtles. I caved.

'Ok everyone' you have 5 minuets and we are leaving. Girls your catching the bus. You too Boy-o, I am not driving you to Tafe, I cant get you both to school on time.'

'Yessssssss.' (That was Biggest Miss)

So finally an hour after it began and after choosing a surprising decent looking outfit for myself and the youngest two. We Jumped in the van and everyone caught their buses with time to spare. The elusive art book was purchased and  I even got Biggest Miss to school with four minuets to spare!

Well done, I thought... and to celebrate? Well I am already in town.... perhaps a spot of shopping is in order. And that is just what I did. But that is another story!

 Today I did some decorating, rearranging and some sitting around on the computer... you know, as you do. Nothing that really needed doing got done. like the three loads of washing that will very soon turn into six, I spent a bit of time clicking on the 'next blog' button up the top of the screen there. I found some gorgeous retro alphabet flash cards and just had to download them.

 Because Littlest Miss sleeps with mummy, eats with mummy, spend every waking minuet and quite a few of the sleeping ones with mummy too. Mainly due to the fact 'thats how I roll' and also because I gave away her cot... long story but a friend in need is a friend indeed, remember that! Ava never used it. I have decided by this time tomorrow she will have another one. I have a plan and it involves her sleeping in her cot during the day and not on my bed,in the bouncer or on the couch.

I also have decided her 'space' in mummy and daddies room will be a cute little area. Seeing as we are not having anymore babies ( something that I was am fine with) I thought I'd go all 'nursery' on it with all those pretty but quite useless things that people stick in nurseries. Like letters that spell out baby's name and oh I don't know some string ribbon that has retro alphabet cards pegged to it with little colourful craft pegs.

I briefly considered cutting into strips the clothes I don't want any more to make a braided rug( yeah like your Nana used to have) but I decided shortly after the idea popped into my head that it was not gonna happen and moved on to rearranging the lounge room, dinning and quite by accident half the veranda out front.

I have lots of tiles to pick up tomorrow and just a little longer to wait until My Beloved can lay them so I am quite sure todays efforts were totally in vain as I will have to move most of the furniture outside or into the bedrooms whilst the floor is being done. I should have just done the washing really.

I'm Pinspired!

I have a new addiction. Pinterest. I am a list kinda gal and have many scrapbooks filled with pictures cut, but mostly just ripped, out of magazines and glued into them, the odd word here or there and lots of arrows pointing out what I liked when I first came across the picture. Pinterest, as far as I can tell is basically the same thing but allows you to hoard and collect without the hassle of having to give the piles of scrapbooks a home. These 'scrapbooks' are called Boards and I am trying very hard not to create a million of them. I am sticking to House,Garden,Girls Rooms and Boys Rooms ideas. Four categories and I already have seven boards! As a result of this I have had several very late nights and a million and one new and some revised old ideas for our house.

 I am obsessing about tiles at present for our painted concrete floor and our Kitchen splashback. The tiles for the floor will be sitting in large piles outside by Wednesday and then will stay there for a fortnight as My Beloved is 'otherwise indisposed' for that length of time. Typical! But we gotta eat I guess. The splashback tiles? Well the ones I 'must' have are rather pricey so they will come into my possession a square meter at a time I imagine.I have even found a million ideas for the tiled courtyard I am planning out the back. Staying on task is difficult when inspiration strikes and every minute spent on Pinterest adds to the inspiration.

There are now a million other 'projects' my subconscious is mulling over, Thankyou Pinterest, including the tropical look plants I will use for the garden surrounding our front deck, which is not even halfway as big as I plan. It is however, better than nothing at all which was how it was for the past three years. We didn't even use that side, Yes the front of the house, our entry was at the back through our bedroom. Luckily we live in a rural setting and don't get a lot of 'visitors' (we do get a lot of hanger-oners however).

I raided a friends garden for her Beehive Ginger yesterday and Hydrangea to take cuttings. Most of my jungle like gardens are all from cuttings. The only plants I have bought was a huge collection of Daylillies, one or two of just about every colour and type possible, when we had only just poured the footing for the house and I decided that even though three Angora goats and a small 'herd'  of cows were present on the land the fence would keep them out... It didn't.

The 'Boardwalk' from the deck out towards the current driveway will be raised a little off the ground and surrounded by the tropical garden I will extend from where it is to cover the 'wet spot'. The garden will have lots of palms, canes and other plants that can tolerate moist soil. I will have to dump a lot of mulch, ash from the fire-place and the many bon fires we need to burn with a bit of sand and some dirt to raise the bed a little but it will always be moist.

There is the 'swing/daybed' that consists of a single bed frame, some chain to hang from the trusses and will be bolted to the floor of the front veranda by the chain so my "Darlings" can not swing madly on it... the glass doors,their heads and my nerves wouldn't survive too long if it was not. I have  added a couple of similar ideas to my Garden categorised boards (I have 3!)

Then there is Project 'Make the Veranda Posts Chunkier' a simple matter ( in my mind at least) of nailing and gluing, though using screws would make more sense, four treated pine sleepers around the current 4x4 hardwood posts.

Staining the veranda will happen once the deck is finished and the outside of the house painted an autumn leaf or pumpkin orange colour. I am collecting metal trays to hang as 'wall art' but they will also be used after being pulled down and washed as the B.B.Q serving trays. Function AND beauty. It will be a warm, spicy, tropical relaxed family area and we will probably live out there in the warmer months.

The 'Bridge' from the deck over the pond leading to the new parking area (which was the original spot to park years ago) will be the last thing done out the front . Finally people will park their cars out the front of the house instead of the side or back. On its completion I will be holding a 'Oh my goodness the Front is Done and it Only Took Twelve Years' party.

For the past two years My Beloved and I had lost interest in doing anything around the house and were getting stuck in quite a rut! We started to pull ourselves out late last year and now thanks to the discovery of Pinterest I am running on all cylinders and can't keep up with the 'projects' that are now taking over my waking hours. Hopefully that party I have planned will be happening just before Christmas this year... I can dream can't I?

10 Things I Love About Little Miss

#1  I love how after years of having a tomboy, she is not! I love how at the age of 10 she actually WEARS dresses and pretty things.

#2  I love the 'habit' she has had since a toddler where if some one is 'very cute', she fights the urge to gently pinch their cheeks, as you do. lol Some have suggested she get it 'fixed' a ridiculous statement if you ask me. There is nothing TO fix.

#3  I love the way she gets her homework out and does it. She WANTS to do it. She likes to help her younger sisters with theirs too.

#4  I love the way she adores her big sister so much that she started writing songs too, has her own song book and writes them when ever she can. I love the way, when her big sister was singing HER song ('It's very catchy mum') she comes to tell me outraged that her sister is singing it without permission. (As PINK has, apparently said 'people' can sing her songs, but LITTLE MISS has not.)

#5  I love the way she has a big personality she just needs to show it more. (her video 'shows' she makes are funny to watch.)

#6   I love the way she keeps her part of the room clean and because she shares a room (well 2 actually with the middle wall knocked down) with 2 younger sisters she usually fights the urge to ban people from her 'side'.

#7   I love the way she comforts her little brother when he is upset, and is compassionate with her youngest siblings.

#8  I love how she wants more responsibility and can handle it (but she is stuck in the 'middle' not big enough for the teens and too big for the littler kids) she  'Is not a baby!'

#9  I love the way she laughs. So hearty and so beautiful.

#10  I love her serious side. She can take things very seriously and is full of enthusiasm. She is a beautiful girl.

We Got A Biter!!

As you may have picked up from previous posts I am not one for delusion about my children, my husband and hopefully myself. Thats not to say I will share everything on this blog but I will try damn hard not to gloss over stuff so this little post is about my DARLING little boy and the fact that he has started the biting stage.


Mr Cheeky has started to push. He wants to see how far he can go. He can go a lot further along the naughty scales than his older siblings ever could! But now he is nearly three and he has started the 'tantrums'. Like a Masai Warrior he jumps up and down on the spot, he shrieks  or runs up to you throwing himself at you crying to make sure you really understand that he is not happy with the situation.


It isn't his fault. It is 100% mine. Because I have let him get away with it. I knew this day would come when I would just say to myself... 'You know what? This ain't so cute anymore, enough is enough.' 


It isn't for my sake either. It is for his. If we were going to go by what was better for me I'd choose the easy route, you know the one where you just give them the thing they are screaming for/about want, to shut them up for a bit of peace.


 Now you can kid yourself all you want, but your not actually doing them any favours at all. Your setting them up for a bitter disappointment when they start to interact with the real world and they find out just how much people actually care about what they want. Sorry, that should have read how much people don't care.


 People often miss how lovely and sweet your child actually is because they have witnessed a shit fit or a little wobbly and who really wants people thinking badly of their kids??? So I am choosing to save him (and me) the heartache of realising no one wants to play with him because he is a brat.


So last night it happened, he bit another kid. Yes she was his cousin and Yes she is three years older than him and Yes they were fighting but NO biting is NOT ACCEPTABLE. Full stop. End of sentence!


I hope it was a one off. I really think it will be, so now is definitely the time to get on to him and CONSISTENTLY expect good behaviour. It can be hard sometimes as you feel mean. But if i am consistent he will stop pushing, he will know what is acceptable and more importantly what isn't. 


OH the joys of children! :)

Good Mums

  A big day today. There is a serious case of Sugar Rush occurring. But MORE importantly (to me at least) is it is My Beloveds 39th birthday. As a result of that I am simply posting this completely unrelated 'Status' I found in one of the Large Family groups I am part of on Facebook.


Good mums vaccinate their kids. Good mums don't vaccinate their kids.

Good mums breastfeed. And yes, good mums formula feed.

Good mums home school their children. And good mums send their kids to 
public or private school.
Good mums tend to their babies every cry. And good mums wait a moment to see if baby will soothe itself instead.

Good mums co-sleep. And good mums use cribs. A lot of good mums do a bit of both.

Good mums have hospital births. Good mums have home births. And some good mums have side-of-the-highway, back-of-the-car births!

Good mums adopt too.

Good mums have natural births. Good mums have epidurals. Good mums have cesareans.

Good mums have 10 kids. Good mums have one.

Good mums use cloth diapers. Good mums use disposable diapers. 


I think you get my drift.

Hugs and kisses to all you mummies out there.

3 Guys 6 Girls and Some Pizza Boxes

Pizza boxes, nothing special are they? Just bits of cardboard folded and scored in order to keep a pizza in. Well not in this house. In this house they mean so much more than that!


Freedom from cooking. Freedom from washing up. Freedom from hearing whines about the latest 'allergy' someone thinks they have from a particular vegetable or meat. Apparently I have three children allergic to tomatoes, two to onion,one allergic to mushroom and one of the above who is also 'mince intolerant unless it is in a pie.'
 ( Yet when incorporated on a pizza they are all ok!)


It means Garlic Bread and Coca-Cola and Cadburys chocolate are also on the menu. It means all the mattresses come off the beds (well nearly all) and we watch movies, eat chocolate and drink coke until we will burst, then once the sugar rush has gone, collapse asleep in front of the telly.


It means family time. Tonights were bought (as they often are) but when I was a kid pizza's were never bought and they meant the exact same thing, except the beds in front of the telly part. 

10 Things I Love About Big Miss

10 Things I Love About Big Miss

# 1   I love the way she sees things Black or White. But she can always see things from the other persons side.

#2  I love the way she comes home from school and tells me about the latest drama or great thing that has happened in her social life. (And how when I offer advice 'I don't understand'.)

# 3  I love how she is thoughtful and kind and sweet. 

#4  I love how she is so open and she has no fear of what people think. She puts herself out there, she is so brave like that.

#5  I love the way she takes a million photos of herself on any available camera yet hates them all, it means she's getting bigger.

#6  I love the way she understands that she is not dating or driving in cars with boys till she is 100 16.

#7  I love how she spends hours outside with her guitar and her song writing book. ( I don't need to read her diary I just listen to her songs.)

#8  I absolutely love how she will not give up and is determined not to let things beat her. No matter what it is.

#9  I love how after years of being a total tomboy she has gone 'girly' on me, but never precious she could tackle anyone her age in a game of footy and out weave them to the posts.

#10  I love how she is growing up and (as of yet at least) I am not worried about how she will turn out because whether she does 'great' or 'little' things she will always be a decent and honourable human being. The greatest thing of all.

He's Still Got It!

Yesterday My Beloved was hit on in the park. Around the time I was snooping around trying to get a better glimpse at the big family HE was being chatted up.


'Oh guess what?' He asked me as we pulled out of the parking space.


'What?' I asked. Not really caring about the response, I mean 18 yrs, 7 kids he has clearly got a great deal of my attention so don't start judging me now.


'I was hit on at that flying fox swing.'' he said grinning


'By the woman in the orange dress?' I said ( see I told you he had my attention)


'How did you know?' he seemed a tad disappointed that it was 'old news'.


'I saw her over there talking to you.'


'Yeah well I helped her daughter onto the flying fox thing. And she came over was talking to me and asked if I was married' the grin was back.


'Oh you're very proud of you're self' I laughed 'You've still got it Bay-bay.'


He laughed  and we managed to get ourselves onto the highway heading for home.


'So, what did you say?' I asked


'I said of course I am. If I wasn't I'd be at the beach not in a playground full of kids!'


'Well you lucked out you know.' I said


'How?'


'She had a new four wheel drive and new caravan and one of those dog types you like.' ( Yes, he get my attention.)


'Really, damn it, and her kids were really nice too'.




So there you have it, a conversation a married couple with seven kids have. Not very exciting or that different from everyone else. And Please if YOU see my husband ask him a question or two it is GREAT for his self esteem! ;)

Not the Only Freaks in the Park

Today my niece turned 10,if you asked her, though her mother says she is 6. 

The local park with 'Everything' was the place we celebrated. It has recently been updated and it is quite popular with the kids I understand. It was the same place were her Naming Ceremony was held. Where I was named her God Mother. ( I like to think of myself as those lovely fairy God Mothers of Sleeping Beauty's, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather, but of course any one who knows me, know this is not accurate.) 

The kids all had a ball. I spent most if not, all of the day under the rotunda bouncing Littlest Miss in her bouncer ,it goes where she goes, except shopping of course... that would just be weird. I was happy to do this as I was tired ,I always am of late, towards the end of the day I left the shade and walked to the new gated play area with the 'Lot' to see how My Beloved and 6 of my little Australians were doing. 

The fact I had also seen a family of no less than twelve children pull up had absolutely everything  nothing to do with it. I was rewarded for my nosiness with the rough admonishment of what honestly, can only be described as a grumpy old man telling me out of the blue as I walked past him with a smile on my face,

'That baby needs a hat on.'

I smiled even more after I fleetingly considered fly kicking him to the head and kept walking as I said

'She needs something alright.'

Now I don't know if he understood or judging by his grumpy self, cared what I was talking about but what she needed was people like that eradicated from the face of the planet. Well, OK I don't REALLY mean that as harshly as it sounds but you get my point.

Now to try to see it from his point of view make excuses for his rudeness requires me to be far less tired than I currently am. So I wont even go into sun safety. But last time I checked, a sleeping baby in her smiling mothers arms for three minuets in the daylight never killed anyone. That's all I will say about that.

By the time I got back to the safety of the rotunda my Brother in Law had noticed a family with seven children playing in another section of the park.

'Look, look Em. ' he said in that excited way people who have just witness some extraordinary miracle do

'What?' I asked still wishing I was able to fly kick people whilst holding children. But, call me crazy. I think physically launching an attack on someone when holding a child, in the presence of a child or with in the hearing of a child is something that should be avoided at all costs.

'Look they have seven kids too.'

 'Where?' I said in the way people who have just missed witnessing an extraordinary miracle do. He pointed and I looked. There were now officially 3 Large families in the park. How rare! 

Then almost like we were playing a game of Spotto, another family of seven emerged. I was almost hyperventilating... where was my Beloved I thought. He'd like to see this too, you know, the whole 'birds of a feather' thing. Finally he come back to were we were and i said

' Did you happen to see if they were all a big family?'

'Who?' 

'The family eating chips.'

'What?'

'The family with about 12 kids!'

'Oh them.'

'Were they the same family?'

'How would I know?' 

'Well, did they seem like they looked related?

'What, do you expect me to do? Go up to small children and say whose you're daddy?'

'Well. It is just nice to see a family larger than ours.' I said laughing.

A little later my Brother in Law by now becoming quite adept at this game of Spotto saw another large family, this time, with 6 kids.

I laughed becoming incredibly (and worryingly) pleased with the amount of bigger than average families at the park.

'Oh isn't this good babe!' I said to 'We are not the freaks anymore' and turned to my Brother in Law and said 'You guys are.' referring to their two child status.

My Beloved chuckled, but out of the corner of my eye i saw i offended a person over hearing the conversation luckily people who know me realise I just suffer from 'saying stuff' and don't mean anything by it.

We carried on as usual but i realised three things today. I absolutely loved to see other larger families en mass in the park. I will have to actively stalk  seek out the family that recently moved into our area with seven kids because there really is something in this birds of a feather business. But most importantly MY NIECE IS 6,not 10.