Grateful For...This Kid

If it weren't for this gorgeous little man in my life,

this past week alone I would not have had reason (excuse?) to ...

• style a 'fire engine' bedroom
• visit the city - and marvel at the wonders of public transport
• cluck at farm animals
• take a carer's day from work
• make fairy bread and chocolate crackles in one day
• buy a whole new winter wardrobe - in a boys size 3
• eat my weight in party food
• cram my expanding self into a miniature train
• ride a see saw
• turn the car radio up to stupid volumes to drown out the backseat tantrum from hell
• count collections of items out loud - everywhere I go
• build uninspired Lego creations - only to be outdone by someone a tenth of my age
• just about melt at the "I love you anytime, Mum - and my baby too" whispered in my ear at random intervals
• cringe at the (repeated) sound of a newly discovered duck whistle
• laugh hysterically in a coffee shop - and look slightly insane to the others patrons who couldn't actually see the little person/clown on the armchair opposite me
• climb into a single bed and snuggle down
• cook sausages...

I'm grateful for the day to day that is living with a small person.
They way they can turn an 'ordinary' moment into one to be treasured (or trashed - depending on their mood!)

Linking with Maxabella's 52 Weeks of Grateful

Shar :-)

*My appreciation of life, my gorgeous husband and our boy is even greater tonight as I reflect sadly on the tragic passing of a school friend today.
Peter, who was killed by a shark while diving, leaves behind a beautiful family, his wife and two young sons.
Rest in peace, Pete. Every moment IS one to treasure. xxx

The Nerd Within

I spent today in prison.
The food wasn't crash hot, but I survived.

Fremantle Prison, WA
Highly recommend a visit - if you're round these parts.

I was 'doing time' in the name of the new History Curriculum (mandated by the Australian Curriculum) being phased into our schools right now.

Hey, hey WAIT!!!!
I was yawning at the very thought of it too.
'History'. 'Colonial Australia'. 'Swan River Settlement'. 'Convict era'. 'Historial inquiry'.
Blah, 'blah, blahdee blah'.

Except 'penal colony'.
That's funny for some reason. Nearly two hilariously naughty words - but not.

I was prepared to quietly slip into a boredom-induced coma at the back of the room and hope no-one noticed.
But, I didn't.

I loved it.
I was the little pregnant nerd lady asking questions and posing theories as I hung on every word of the prison guide.
Maybe there's a historian inside of this running Mama after all?

I promise you - the stories of convict life in the 1800s and prison life in the 1900s are fascinating with the right narrator and environment. Honest.

I was mesmerised by the prison buildings and the artefacts (yep, nerd alert) we were immersed in today.

My head is still spinning, trying to comprehend that WA prisoners were living in such appalling conditions up to only twenty one years ago.
Who needs an en suite when you have a perfectly good bucket, really?

My heart pangs for the little babies born to women in the system and for the juveniles punished brutally and essentially, given no chance of reform.

I'm appalled at the treatment of Aboriginal men, women and children and puzzled by how an ineffective system was status quo for so long.

I have so many questions.

I'm actually really excited about planning next term's History unit (and of course, integrating it right across the curriculum - in case you're reading AISWA consultant lady.)

Now, I just have to convince my students that this stuff is all kinds of awesome.
Without the use of a cat-o-nine-tails.

If you're still here - wow! And thank you.

Do you have a secret nerd lurking within too?
Or am I just feeling the effects of my incarceration?

Shar :-)

52 Week Project : Wk 28

Yep - I got my three year old to snap a pic of me standing in the city centre.

He wasn't phased.

I didn't care.

But that's the beauty of the city - no-one or nothing is 'weird' or out of place.

Yesterday, Magoo was given a choice of heading to the zoo, the animal farm or the city.

The boy chose the city.

'Cause the boy knows that 'the city' and 'the train' are a package deal.

I love the city.

I rarely visit these days, so each time something new surprises me.
Never the people -  but new stores, arcades or massive holes in the ground.
(Oh, like that whole new underground rail system a few months back! )

I worked in the city for many years through high school and university.
That job (in a sports store) was just brilliant.
I have so many hilarious and fond memories
- not just of the sneakers, but the crew I got to work with.
Good times JJ, good times.

Magoo didn't seem quite so nostalgic about seeing my old (old, old, old) workplace,
but he did enjoying having a wander - and of course, a babycino.

Are you a city dweller?
And has blogging made you shameless?

Linking with Fi's 52 Week Project @ My Mummy Daze


Shar :-)

Fashion Po-lice

Now girls and boys. I'm no style guru.
I'm always a season behind and a few bucks short of being even remotely fashionable.
Occasionally, I confuse being colour coordinated with being fashionable, but really I'm just matchin'
- not rockin' or stylin'.


Recently, on a girls' out night the decision was made to head over to quite a 'young' establishment (the clientele, not the building) after dinner.
I used to frequent this place when I was younger, smoother and perkier myself
- so I was happy to pay the ol' girl a visit.

After the novelty of having my ID verified and photo taken for security purposes, I entered the place only to immediately assume that we had mistakenly walked into the middle of a pimps and prostitutes event.

My lovely, new tailored (maternity!) pants instantly stood out like ... well, actual clothing on a non-writhing body.
They were just screaming to be cut off somewhere between my butt cheeks and g-string like all the other so-called 'pants' in the place.

Everywhere I turned, there was flesh.
It was a fleshfest, man!
I thought there was a rule about advertising crotch or cleavage - not both?
I guess rules are made to be broken - by absolutely every female in the place.

There were Kardashian-wannabes flanking penthouse pet-wannabes and plastering themselves all over macdaddy-wannabes every way I looked!!

I'm not sure if I was confused, disgusted or plain envious.

I was no angel in my heyday and I still like to let my hair down on the very odd occasion these days, but...
even at my fittest, I would never have had the confidence to wear a lycra belt as an outfit.
I would also have had serious reservations about combining alcohol and one-false-move-from-public-nudity attire.

I no longer understand why young 'gentlemen' feel the need to download graphic porn in this day and age.
The live shows are obviously freely available on podiums in bars all over this city.


20+ years ago I had to fight for my right to see 'Pretty Woman'.
(Or just diiiiieeee 'cause everyone else was allowed toooooo.)

My Dad didn't want me being exposed to this, you see...

Flash forward 20+ years and without any content warnings we are over exposed to this continuously...

'Vivians' are no longer confined to dodgy street corners.
I wonder how Richard Gere would even know who to proposition in this era?
Wouldn't it would be extremely confusing for 'customers' to distinguish between the real deal and a bunch of teenage girls simply wagging school?

I believe Supre have a lot to answer for.

Or, once again, I may just be basking in my seven visible signs of aging over here.

Shar :-)

Pretty Woman image
Supre image

Point + Shoot : Where's The Fire?

Hi there Monday!

Don't you come around quickly, you sneaky thing?!

It has been a brilliant and productive weekend around these parts.

Seeing as you asked...

we've loved having friends here for dinner, going to birthday parties

and celebrating 'Neighbour Day' with a fitting street party.

I may just be the only adult in this street without a headache in the morning!

Amongst all that fun, the highlight really has to be moving my 'baby'

from his nursery room and little toddler bed into the much acclaimed

(well, around here anyway) ...

big. boy. bed.room!!!

It's safe to say that a certain little someone is pretty chuffed with the

'fire engine room' as it has been labelled.

(Thankfully, not because of the need for emergency services.)

Yes, Hubby is very happy with his handiwork!

After a serious clean out, a paint job, some skirting boards, a carpet clean

and a morning of furniture assembly, we turned this cluttered, smelly space

 into this

    

A little bare for now - but clean and new(ish).

Honourable mention to patient Grandad for actually doing a lot of the 'work' elements!

 Also, accolades to myself for 'sourcing' all the bits and pieces on a tight budget.

I would like to thank my good friend Ikea for making this pretty simple, really.

I also have a wall decal on it's nee-naw nee-naw way to brighten up the wall.

It's safe to say Magoo is pretty taken with his new digs too.

How was your two day holiday?

Point + Shooting with Lou @ Sunny + Scout

and

Wonderful Weekending with Sonia @ Life, Love and Hiccups

Shar :-)

Grateful For ... My Own Shoes

Some days you just have to look around and thank your lucky stars.

And once you start, it's hard to stop.

It seems people all around me are experiencing illness, grief or pain at the moment.

I feel that I couldn't possibly cook, gift or help enough for even half of them right now.

The saying goes 'walk a mile in my shoes'.

I have two friends enduring long term hospitalisation as I type.

Thanks, but no thanks.

 One, has experienced a very fragile third pregnancy and has been in a hospital bed for the past ten weeks or so.
This amazing woman is more organised, efficient and hardworking than I could aspire to being - so I take my hat (and anything else) off to her for her un-be-lieve-able patience.
Months in a small room with literally no fresh air for most of this year, not seeing her husband for more than fleeting visits and never being alone with her two and three year old children.
I think that may just be my definition of living hell.
(Remember, I am the pathetic chick who posted about being carless for one day this week.)


Actually, no.
Another poor woman is vying for contention in the 'my idea of hell on Earth' competition.


My neighbour has broken both of her ankles in a number of places.
She is currently doped up in a shared hospital room with one of those hideous metal cages through and around one leg.
She faces a couple of weeks of waiting for the swelling to go down before medical staff can operate on both ankles.
She may be home in a month or so - but be in a wheelchair for some weeks after that and rehabilitating for even longer.
She has three busy, school aged children, a very active dog -  and one exhausted husband right about now.
(Remember, I am the pathetic chick who's only leg related drama is deciding whether to run when pregnant or not.)


As callous as it sounds, the truth is that this week I am beyond grateful that I am not living in either of these womens' shoes (or lack thereof, as the case may be).


I'm aware that both of these friends are in temporary situations.
Horribly inconvenient circumstances that they will eventually recover from.
Others are not so lucky.


I'm grateful for the freedom, mobility and lifestyle of convenience that I enjoy - and quite often take for granted.

Counting these blessings with Maxabella's 52 Weeks of Grateful.


Happy weekend.
Shar :-)

52 Week Project : Wk 27

So I'm not actually naked here in my garage.

I just feel it.

See, I'm standing in the spot where my car should be.

But it's not.

Or wasn't.

It was just being serviced.

Cue the violins.

It's a first world drama - she's carless for a day.

Boo to the hoo.

It's a big deal for me to relinquish my wings wheels for a day!

Not because I live in a remote location or fear a medical emergency or am

responsible for a group of underprivileged children who rely on me for transport.

Not even because of the logistical hassle.

My local and lovely mechanic actually picked up my car

in the morning and dropped it back that evening.

Not because of commitments - it wasn't a swimming, pre-kindy or work day.
We deliberately had no plans.

Not because I dread having to, heaven forbid, use two feet and a heartbeat.

I love being active.

But I love being active with more than a 10km radius and a with a bootful

of whatever the heck I decide to take, buy or deliver.

It's a big deal for me because I like going places.

In my car.

Often, numerous times a day.

It's no fancy, shmancy vehicle by any means.

But it gets me from A to B (and to I - for Ikea, of course!)

And I like going to B (and C, D, E and any of the other 21...)

Now, now before you get too teared up with sympathy...

Magoo and I enjoyed a lovely 'home' day.

We walked to the park, washed every item of bedding in the house, gardened, read, played, cooked and actually got a little surprise when our car reappeared that night.

Are you an environmentally unfriendly, road-travel-aholic like me?

Or do you have more substance than that?!

Linking with Fi's 52 Week Project @ My Mummy Daze

Shar :-)

To Run or Not To Run...

...with a bub on board?

That is the question.

Except, it's not even a question as far as I'm concerned.

The issue is simple for me.

As soon as I know I am pregnant, I put a halt on running.

I guess that makes me 'Mum on the Walk' for a bit, doesn't it?!


It's a personal choice.
I certainly don't have an opinion (or any authority) on any other's woman's choices - during pregnancy or otherwise.


I simply choose not to run 'with child'.


I am not technically, medically 'supposed' to fall pregnant, so when I do I'm not going to be tempting fate one little bit.

 Plenty of research reinforces that it is perfectly safe to maintain the exercise regime you were engaged in just before pregnancy, but I go with my (ever expanding) gut on this one.


It honestly just doesn't feel right.
For a few sickly weeks there, it actually felt downright impossible.


I'm not particularly concerned that I'm losing fitness, tone and endorphins with every day that passes.

I don't miss it one little bit.

(Maybe one teeny, tiny bit occasionally - but it never lasts long.)

I still head out early in the morning on my 'run' days, but I walk.

I'm still getting the fresh air, the head space, the (milder form of) exercise that I love.

I still go to the gym once or twice a week, but I faff around far more than I used to.

I sweat less and chat or belly rub more.

I still use the free weights and exercise bike here at home - but I'm no longer pushing myself.

Right now, my focus has shifted and my body is someone else's for a while.

I'm trying to be the perfect hostess to 'Muppet' - well, the best I can be anyway.


I know I will run again.
(Heck, Magoo has already offered to look after the baby while I go for a run - bless him.
I'm sure the relevant government agencies would have no problem with a four year old babysitter.)

In fact, I have my sights on another marathon in 2014.

(Keep it down. I can hear you snorting from here.)

In the meantime, I've got some beautiful tiny organs (ovaries even, if you ask me hey Hubby?!!!) to develop and a gorgeous little person to nourish and love.

Do you power on as normal when you're 'duffed'?


Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Weekend Win

Weekends are highly anticipated events around here.

By Friday afternoon, expectations are lofty and our hopes just as high.

Some weekends miss the mark,

but there's always the promise of another one around the corner.

Not this one.

It delivered.

In spades.

Or clovers.

We enjoyed the perfect mix of family chill, household maintenance

and social butterflying this weekend.

 From a beautiful champagne breakfast in the valley (minus the champagne),

to a hilarious, boozy girls' night (minus the booze),

 to a local fair full of THE BEST fudge (minus the guilt),

to a very happy cheap-plastic-fire-engine winner...

 

This here weekend was the goods.

I hope yours lived up to it's reputation too.

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot

and

Sonia's Wonderful Weekends

Shar :-)

Fresh Horses Brigade : Picture This

This week, Eden's Fresh Horse Brigade calls for happy and light - in the form of some pics.

I choose to title this little snippet of a much, much larger series

"Mum, Do You Ever Put That Silly* Camera Down?"

*Family friendly edit.

Alternative title - "It's Entirely Possible That My Son Will Someday Sue Me".

However, this title depends on his ability to salvage any of the thousands

of images on Mum's antique laptop sometime in 2040.

Shar :-)

So That's How The Fairies Do It?

Welcome.

Let's talk fairy bread.

Cause I'm wiiiiild and crazy like that.

Ask Hubby and he'll tell you that I've got 'book smarts' and he's got 'good smarts'.

He continuously astounds me with his real-world solutions to real-world problems.

Whether we're renovating, fixing yet another breakdown or trying to avoid further debt, Hubby always thinks outside the square and finds innovative

(and sometimes completely unsafe)

ways to go about things.

(I'm going to overlook the fact that he can't seem to dispose of empty packaging or pick his clothes up off the floor for the sake of painting him in the best light here.)

Last weekend Hubby's resourcefulness came to the fore again.

In a less 'hardware' style though.

I have been a teacher who loves kids for a number of years now.

I know fairy bread.

I make fairy bread.

Hubby assumes that fairy bread is literally that 

- and it appears on platters to take to parties thanks to the fairies.

On Sunday, he walked in as Magoo and I were beginning to make fairy bread for a party.

He decided he wanted to join us. Maybe his iPhone was charging or something.

We had a family production line going on and I began

buttering the bread (right to the edges, of course).

Hubby proceeded to fill a shallow dish with hundreds and thousands and help Magoo to

dip the buttered (right to the edges) bread face down in the "sminkles".

Well, I'll be damned.

I. DID. NOT. KNOW. THAT. WAS. HOW. YOU. MADE. FAIRY. BREAD.

I've been sprinkling the hundreds and thousands onto the buttered (right to the edges)bread using spoons, shakers, fingers and strainers for years.

Making quite the mess in the process.

Am I completely alone in my ignorance?

Is it worth blaming my Irish heritage or sheltered upbringing

with a mother who never made fairy bread?

Anyone? Anyone?

Shar :-)

While you're here ...

Thank you for your comments on Tuesday's Baker's Delight post.

The winners/grinners of the $10 vouchers are : 

 

Jane from Planet Baby

Julie from Mama of Two Boys

and

Corinne from Daze of My Life.

Enjoy girls!

:-)