Feeling Fine

After the spate of craptastic entries of doom and gloom that I have posted of late I have decided that it is time to take a chill pill and just enjoy life.  OK, so it did help that I had to leave work early to pick the kids up from the school holiday program that they have been attending for the last 3 days.  To celebrate the end of the program they put on a performance for all of the parents.  

The performance started off with a puppet show and was followed by a hip hop dance.  Boy-child is over the moon that he know knows how to do a six-step and wants to go back to dancing next term – hooray!  Of course I didn’t get a video of him doing the six-step, but I did get a video of the whole group singing the chorus of the rap song they all wrote – Feeling Fine.

 

I didn’t film the kids singing their verses but I did bring home their notes.  The rap – Feeling Fine was all about things that kids do in their spare time to make them feel good.  Boy-child’s contribution was “Pokemon Cards I like to save, I’ve got the best ones that have ever been made!”  Girl-child wrote “I Lick to staying Nom cuz I like to dror” and I thought WTF?  Then I remembered that since she is only 5 she really doesn’t know how to spell.  The translated version reads “I like staying home cuz I like to draw.  There ain’t nothin’ in the world that I like more.”

I must remember that it is the simple things that they enjoy.  It really doesn’t take much to make them feel good.  There are many ways to feel fine in my spare time, and hanging out with fantastic kids is one of the best!

Growing Old

Spending this past weekend with my parents has forced me to acknowledge that my parents are old.  Whilst they are both relatively healthy, well as healthy as a couple who chow down of a variety of medications daily can be, they are old.  My mum is looking more and more like her older sister, the sister who died last year.  Her mannerisms remind me not only of her sister but of her mum, my nan. 

In all of the memories I have of my nan she is in a wheelchair.  She spent almost all of her time sitting in her chair, to the left of the pot-bellied stove with a knitted or crochet blanket on her lap.  When she wasn’t talking to her kids or grandkids and listening to our stories of incredible adventure she was doing word searches.  She sipped her tea from cups with oversized handles and ate easy to cut foods using chunky cutlery.  The pens she used for her crosswords were made for arthritic hands. She was quietly spoken, her voice was gentle and quivery.  Her head had a steady wobble to it, and her voice matched her head wobble.  It was this same head wobble that my aunt had.  Because I remember my aunt much more clearly than my nan who died more than 20 years ago, I also remember that her head wobble was the start of her quick aging process.  Seeing my mum yet more frequently I noticed that she now has a pronounced head wobble.  I first noticed it as a shaky chin and random eye twitches, yet I ignored it, hoping that it wasn’t real that somehow it was my imagination.  There is no denying it, now she has a real head wobble.  A wobble that is uncontrollable and unexplainable.  

Now I know that arthritis and mobility issues are going to be a part of my life, they are already a part of my mums life.  Already she has had multiple surgeries on her feet and ankles to alleviate pain and increase her mobility.  It seems that random head wobbling is also a part of my future.  This post isn’t meant to be about me getting old, it is more about me recognising that my parents are getting old and they won’t be here forever.  I can’t imagine life without both parents, or how one parent would survive without the other.

What is also concerning, is my mum’s concern for my dad.  He isn’t himself.  He won’t say that he is unwell yet he looks exhausted and fell asleep during the day when he was here.  Falling asleep isn’t all that unusual in itself but the fact that he fell asleep as girl-child was talking to him was unusual.  Of course as he won’t admit that something is out of kilter, he won’t see a doctor.  

All of these things, plus man-child’s dad dying earlier this year and a friends dad dying today reminds me that life is precious and unpredictable.  I want to spend time with all those who are precious to me and celebrate just how lucky I am.  Instead I will sneak upstairs and kiss my babies.

Three’s a Crowd

Five is far too young to learn the harsh realities of friendships.  I was hoping to have at least one more year before having to discuss how sometimes it is better to play with one friend at a time otherwise the outcome is going to include bitchiness, whether intended or not.  

Just this year we have made friends with two other families in our neighbourhood and through this, girl-child has made some new friends, as both families have 10 year old daughters.  Now essentially our family is the link between the 2 other families, they are both our friends but not really friends with each other.  Well it isn’t that they aren’t friends it is more that their worlds don’t collide unless it is through us.   

It didn’t matter which family we were spending time, girl-child had a new best friend in the 10 year old daughter.  Until now that is.  Of course a friendship that includes girls who’s ages span so many years is destined for trouble, it is just difficult to explain this to a 5 year old who is so happy having big girls to play with, to idolise and follow around like a puppy.  To he honest, the older girls have been more than happy to have a shadow.  

During the holiday break, the 10 year old daughters have found that they can actually be friends without involving girl-child.  Today girl-child spent most of the day with one of the girls having a great time together.  As it was getting late in the day, they decided to visit the other girl.  Next thing you know the two older girls were planning a sleep over.  Once both parents had approved to the sleep over all they wanted to do was start, but first they had to walk a younger brother home.  

Eager to begin the fun, they wanted to walk her younger brother home straight away.  They bullied the boys into finishing their game before they had a chance to save it, despite it being half an hour before official home time.  In their wake they left boys upset that they didn’t get to finish their game and one lonely little girl wondering why she wasn’t invited to a sleep over – again.  

Girl-child doesn’t understand that big girls play different games to 5 year old girls.  What she really doesn’t understand is why when she has a sleep over here, both girls are invited and they all have a great time together yet when they have a sleep over she isn’t invited.  What hurts her more is that she is there when the grand plans are made.  Now I know, and I am sure that she knows too, that the big girls don’t mean to exclude her, but every time they run off to play without her, she curls up on the couch and cries.

I keep trying to encourage her to play with girls her own age but  during the holidays it is even more difficult than during the term as so many of her class mates are away for the holidays.  Hopefully going to a school holiday program for the next three days will keep her busy and maybe even encourage new friendship groups with kids closer to her own age.  

My ‘Old’ Man

Today my man was able to add yet another year to his age and is now at the ripe old age of 36.  Now naturally having a birthday requires celebrating and in our case, 2 days of celebrating.

Last night it was time for a lamb roast with my family (because having dinner with your outlaws just what every man wants for their birthday!) followed by cakes – butter cake, brownies and shortbread.   Far too much food was followed by presents a day early.  The kids had helped me shop for gifts – Star Wars lego and Space Police lego.  Man child is lucky that he loves lego and that his birthday coincides with the major toy sales.  Of course he had purchased himself the birthday present he really wanted, an iphone.  

My Wonderful Family

Today we all traipsed out to Healesville to go to the sanctuary.  The rain held off but it was a mighty cold day and we were all rugged up and wearing beanies.  Now man-child looks great in hats but when he wears a beanie he looks like a thug, more than ever when he is sporting a beautiful shiner.

 

The Shiner

 

 

Now of course he is a gentle giant and the shiner is a result of an elbow vs the eye socket during a game of basketball and quite clearly the elbow won.

Happy 36th birthday man-child.  I have had a wonderful weekend with you and our amazing family.  Shiner or not I love you and hope that you had a wonderful birthday too.

The 4th of July

I had no intention of blogging today.  In actual fact I have barely been near my laptop today instead I have been preparing for and celebrating man-child’s almost birthday.  Despite being insanely tired I decided to check emails in bed.  Of course on my way to gmail I stopped by and checked my reader to be reminded of the 4th of July celebrations that are taking place.  

Well 4 years ago, during the early hours on the 4th of July, this was us, just landed at Newark and on our way to our new life.  

Just Landed

We celebrated the 4th of July 2004 exploring our new home.  I remember exploring our new home, visiting typically American chain stores being astounded by the 4th of July clothing that we just had to have, finding parks for the kids to play in, eating at chain restaurants and not getting the whole tipping etiquette and generally being exhausted after 2 tremendously long flights with a 21 month old who refused to sleep at all.  

It was all terribly exciting and then it all went horribly wrong.  That aside, Happy 4th.

 

Man Flu Strikes Again

Man flu has entered the building, we must all stop and show sympathy whether we feel it or not because man flu is the most exhausting, debilitating, body achey, snot fest, stuffy head world of pain to hit our world.    Now normally man flu isn’t a problem, we all go about our daily doings and leave the house in peace and quiet so the ill one can recuperate.  Well that is the usual deal when said ill one is male, but not today.  You see, it is still school holidays and that means the kids will be at home all day and I had work that I really needed to do, at work, in the office.  

Now holiday child care is a minor nightmare, I have only sporadic child care so I take leave to cover the childcare-less days.  Today wasn’t a planned stay at home day, it was one of the few days that I had care orgainsed; I had arranged for a friends daughter to come over and sit with the kids and keep them entertained.  

So today started just like any other day – I woke albeit a little later than usual and got everyone organised for the day.  This included, but was not limited to ensuring everyone ate breakfast, made lunch for the student that is staying with us, checked emails, pureed the pumpkin and lentil soup that was in the crockpot overnight ready for lunch, hung out another load of washing, cleaned the kitchen, confirmed that the clothes that the kids were wearing were actually suitable for winter and I even had time for a cup of tea whilst reading the junk mail.  Just a typical morning in the superRelish house really.  In actual fact I was ready earlier than I needed to be and I had time to sit on the couch with the kids and watch Harry Potter again.

I wandered upstairs at 8.30 to enquire if man-child was going to go to work today.  He mumbled that he was dying too sick and thought he would stay home.  Now being my usual sensitive snarky self I commented that it made sense that we paid a baby sitter to entertain the kids so that he could rest all day.  I suggested that he go to work today, since the sitter was on her way and he take tomorrow off instead thinking that at least if he had tomorrow off work I would be able to work and not lose yet another day of my leave.

I was also kind enough to mention that if I were to be unwell it would still involve me getting the kids to and from wherever they needed to be, making sure that there was food ready for dinner and even cleaning up a little.  Often I go in to work because I am already half way there when I drop the kids off so it is just as easy to keep on going and getting things done.  The one time I have been sick enough to need a house of peace and quiet I had to share it with and infectious girl-child who had far too much energy.  

Anyway, I digress.  Man-child has man flu and the world must stop.  He must rest and recuperate for today is Thursday, tonight is Thursday Night Poker Night.  When I left for work, shortly after warning the sitter that he was still at home I could at least be thankful that he had already wandered downstairs and was wearing a pair of jeans and a tshirt.  At least I could relax knowing that a 15 year old girl wouldn’t be traumatised by the sight of him wandering the house in his boxers. 

Knowing that he was at home, I opted to stay at work later than usual to make up for all the time I have spent away from the office this week.  I knew that the sitter’s dad was picking her up when he finished work so I didn’t need to rush home.  I also knew that by staying later at work, nothing would be organised for dinner.  I suggested that we go out for dinner and had him make a booking for us.  Of course the booking had to be super early to allow for us to be fed and home with the kids in bed before Thursday Night Poker Night but that is OK, I didn’t have to cook!

You can imagine how pleased I was when I walked in from a long day at work with no time for a lunch break and only a quick stop for a ‘work delivered hot chocolate’ (thanks E!) to see him sitting up at the table with the sitters dad enjoying a beer.  I guess that was to be expected, they are both blokey beer type guys, I guess what really bugged me was that he mentioned he was feeling well enough to go and see Transformers 2 at IMAX!   No more man flu sympathy for you man-child.  If you are too sick too go to work, you are too sick to have fun!  

Crafty Goodness

For the past week the girls (little girls, not the wine drinkin

g fun to be around girls) have been begging to have a craft session and I have been stalling them.  Firstly my creative space looks like a technicolour dumping ground and secondly I am lazy.  Today would have been the perfect opportunity to craft with the girls but they were busy playing fashion shows and drawing pictures as I procrastinated about being domestic.  It wasn’t until I was getting dinner ready that they remembered that they wanted to craft.  They are becoming masters of negotiation and somehow I was convinced to let them all craft after dinner.  OK, so I am a sucker and gave in easily.

 

As you can see, girl-child has a stunning technique when it comes to cutting fabric – tongue out and twisted.  Of course there was precision and accuracy with all of the cutting.  It should be interesting to see how the projects turn out, they are making Wheat Bag Softies from the Meet Me At Mikes book.  I will post photos of their crafty goodness if they ever finish them.

The 3 girls (girl-child who is 5, a neighbour who is 10 and a 14 year old exchange student) all had a great crafty time.  As they were busy further destroying having fun and creating in my study area, man-child was helping a friend move furniture.  Without any prompting or intervention boy-child put himself to bed!  Fingers crossed he will sleep-in in the morning…

Pick Ups

A quiet evening at home after a longish day at work and it was finally time to catch up on the blogs that for some reason don’t stick in my reader, despite adding them over and over and over again.  It bugs me that they won’t stay in my reader as there is always something great to read.

After reading about the Kay’s favourite pick-up lines over at her blog and then her suggestion that people leave their favourite pick-up lines in the comment section, it got me thinking about the best pickup line I have ever experienced.  It was too long to mention in a comment section so here I am writing a post about it instead.  

Now I need to set the scene.  I was 17 or almost 18 and had just moved to Melbourne to study.  I was boarding with a family who lived near the college I was attending.  Now the head of the family was a single mother who was dating a man who lived in the country.  He coached and played in the local football team in the town where he lived.  She went to every game to watch him play and often I would go along for the drive and to spend a relaxing afternoon in the country.

Now the day of the fantastic pickup line was one of those days.  The football team were playing at a different ground, a ground that was in the middle of a state forest, surrounded by majestic trees and deliciously fresh aromas of the Aussie bush.  Needless to say the  footy match was uninteresting but area was beautiful.  I was perched on the bonnet of the car with a book in hand enjoying the autumn sunshine, oblivious to the world.  

All of a sudden there was another body leaning up against the car.  I glanced up and saw someone I had never seen before looking at me.  He started talking to me, just general small talk about the weather, nothing exciting.  We chatted for a minute or so with the conversation going something like this…

Him, “Gee isn’t this a very picture-skew area?”

Me, thinking briefly, wondering if I had been wrong in my understanding of language for all of these years eventually asked, “Isn’t it picturesque?” 

Him, “mumble, grumble, gah” before wandering off hanging his head, never to be seen again.

Now whenever I am in a particularly beautiful location I have the urge to comment on how ‘picture-skew’ the location is.  

Reliving Childhood Memories

Many of my childhood memories involve a not-so-lifelike plastic doll.  Nothing big and blow up, merely a collection of almost 12 inch dolls.  I loved my Barbie dolls, in fact I collected Barbies for a quite a while and still have a shelf full of brand new dolls, still in boxes that girl-child is only able to look at, drool over and imagine playing with.  In actual fact it is clear that I still love my Barbies.  

To many she is a totally disproportionate representation of a woman but to me she is a woman who can do anything she chooses.  Yes she is totally misrepresents the true body of a woman but she is so elegant and beautiful, not to mention well dressed.  She may have a short attention span and change careers even more frequently than I have been known to, but she is accomplished in all of her chosen career paths.  Seriously, who else can be a teacher, astronaut, vet and olympian as well as a business woman and socialite with family and friends who clearly love her (and boyfriends with plastic underwear).  

Anyway, I loved and still love Barbie.  I can remember writing Christmas wish lists when all I wanted was a Barbie.  The weeks of anticipation, wondering if I had been good enough for Santa to get me a Barbie, especially when all I wanted was Western Barbie and Dallas her horse.  Apparently I was a really good girl that year because not only was Western Barbie and Dallas there waiting for me under the Christmas tree, but Barbie was there in her 4wd jeep and towing a horse trailer.  I was over the moon – it was the best Christmas present EVER.  (OK, so Loving You Barbie that I received the following year was actually the best Barbie that I ever received but she was also the cause of or at least part of a terrifying series of nightmares but that is another story for another time entirely.  Now that I have moved on from the nightmares I can raise her to the status of my favourite Barbie).

I love Barbies so much that I have shared my love for the plastic doll with girl-child.  (I have also shared my hatred of other similar sized dolls with oversized heads and skanky clothing with her.)  She was given her first Barbie doll when she was 3, the same year that she inherited the huge doll house that dad made for me when I was younger.  I really wanted Barbie to have the same significance for her as she does for me.  She loves her dolls but unfortunately she doesn’t treasure them the same way as I do.  I think that the main reason for this is because she has so many.  In the last clean up of her dolls she had more than 20 Barbies as well as dozens of Kelly dolls (that’s Barbie’s little sister), it is no wonder they aren’t so precious to her.  Now the dolls are so inexpensive that it isn’t uncommon for her to receive half a dozen or so more than one for a birthday.  I have even been guilty of allowing girl-child to give her friends a Barbie for a birthday gift.  I even have vague recollections of giving a Barbie just for the hell of it.  It is no wonder they are losing their significance.  

Now back in my day Barbies were expensive.  You didn’t just get a Barbie doll for the hell of it, only for a birthday or for Christmas.  In fact a Barbie doll was your main present for Christmas.  They were an item wished for and if you were lucky enough to have a Barbie or one of her friends you treasured them and looked after them right up until you were too old and too cool to play with Barbies and then you practiced your hairdressing skills.  Not that I ever cut my Barbie doll’s hair, I only played hairdresser with my sister’s dolls!  I did manage to amass many Barbies over my childhood and I still have them now, they are at my parents house and I love it when girl-child drags them out to play.

So I have lost the point of this post, the part where I shared my love for the disproportionate doll with my daughter.  To cut to the chase, the Forever Barbie Exhibition celebrating 50 years of Barbie beauty is in town so to celebrate a few of us went along to check it out.  

We were there the day after the exhibition opened, arriving just after it opened for the day at 10.  Already there was a queue to get in but fortunately it moved along quickly and we were inside in only a few minutes.  We wandered around looking at all of the dolls.  There were some dolls from my childhood there, as well as many dolls that are still on my wish list.  My favourite part of the exhibition were the dolls that children had dressed and the captions that were written under them.  

Naturally, at the end of the exhibition there was a merchandise area.  You should have seen the crowds with huge shopping bundles.  Now I know that I have just said that Barbies are inexpensive, I wasn’t referring to these dolls, these dolls were kind of expensive.  It wasn’t just the dolls that were expensive the other merchandise was insanely expensive.  Tiny tins of mints for $20, carry bags from $60, after that I pretty much ignored the price tags on everything else there.  I did give in and purchase girl-child and her friend another doll.  I know, another doll but this one was special, girl-child was able to customised it.  They had computers set up where you could choose your own doll from a limited selection and then choose the clothes that she would wear.  After you printed out the picture of your doll and paid for her she was ‘made’ for you to specification.  Once she was made the doll paraded around the catwalk before being boxed up and then delivered.  Girl-child was so excited to make her own doll and then have it made for her, it was definitely worth the insane price tag.  

Milla and her Milla Barbie

 

 

It was a great morning sharing my memories of Barbie with girl-child and her friend.  If this is what the holidays are going to be like I am looking forward to them.

Minor Collisions

My worlds almost had a mini collision tonight and it was kind of weird.  I played netball and it was a great game, surprisingly enough we won!  Anyway, to celebrate the game or realistically the fact that we played an early game and still had an evening ahead of us, we all went to the pub for a drink.  As we arrived, I ran into a friend from the kids school who was there to meet with other mums and attempt to be creative.  

It was a great night sitting around and actually getting to know the other players in the team in a social setting.  There are some fantastic people on the team that are really interesting and dynamic and did I mention young?  It wasn’t that they are physically all younger, but they are all engaged or newly married and have no kids.  They all have the ability to go out whenever they want, to play sport as often as they like and I guess to some extent they can be selfish.  

It was refreshing to be there with new and exciting people.  Instead of feeling old or so much older than the ‘young uns’, I actually felt young and involved.  I didn’t feel out of place at all knowing that my monsters were tucked in safe and sound in their beds as man-child played poker with friends.  

What was strange was having two different elements of my world meet.  I am a very much a mum and there is no disputing that; I have kids, I do the trek to school each day, I have different projects that I undertake with and for the kids, I like to knit or sew or generally be creative, in essence I do mum-like things.  I also love to be sporty, or pretend to be.  I love playing netball, I am back coaching football and I love being involved in soccer even if I don’t know all the rules.  Being involved in sports and the outdoor/active lifestyle (although netball is played indoors) is very much a part of who I am.  

I guess what I am trying to get at is that there were 2 very different groups at the same venue that represented who I am but the differences in the two groups were astounding, with little or nothing in common.  It wasn’t a bad thing, just something interesting that I thought I would write about as I contemplate sleep.