Housework Physics

My (possibly flawed) theory...

For every household action, there is an equal houseWORK reaction.

It is simply up to me whether the 'action' is worth the consequential 'reaction'.

For example, in my (tad bit pedantic) world...

Fresh crusty rolls with lunch = a quick vac apres meal.

Painting = wiping the tiles (and various surfaces around the place) afterwards.

Baking with kid(s) = a serious, sticky wipe down and probably a mop.

Happy, splashy baths = bathroom wipe down and possible mop.

Craft activities = glue removal from furniture and vacuuming glitter for weeks.

Beach trips = sand sweeping/sucking for an undetermined period of time.

Renovation = weeks of pointless-getting-absolutely-nowhere cleaning.

Play doh play = picking crusty play doh from carpet, furniture, clothing, hair...

Icy poles  = sporadic wiping/mopping of sticky spots around the joint.

Toilet training = the necessary but tortuous equivalent of housework hell.

Home made cubbies = re-'homing' household items for days.

Parties = days of prior cleaning/setting up combined with days of post cleaning/pulling down

That cheap Christmas fake snow = days of window scrubbing and vacuuming.

All of these (and so many more) are completely worth it in my eyes.
Equitable equations that don't particularly phase me.

However, according to my scientific calculations, a sandpit tips the scales into dangerous territory.
A sandpit is absolutely not worth the house proud pain and suffering it would cause me.

Bad Mum Alert! Bad Mum Alert!

Hey, there's plenty of lovely sand to be found at the beach, the park, the building site around the corner...

and I tend to try to leave as much of it in situ as possible too!



No, honey. We won't be taking this one home.
And nor will Santa if he knows what's good for him.

The sandpit sand infiltrating every nook and cranny, toy and trinket in this place would surely send me over the edge.

I've seen others like me succumb to the pressure and then go down in an avalanche of sand induced anguish.

I'm drawing the line - in the sand, even.

I love me a good cubby, a tramp, the water table, messy tactile play, any outdoor toy or vehicle...

- but, sadly,  my children will be sandpit-less. 

I'm sure a therapist will gladly help them work through their deprived childhood - at my sand free expense.

Are you pro-pit?

Shar :-)

Grateful For...Getting Paid

I'm coming in early with my grateful this week, but - meh.
Sue me!!
I'm under the influence - drunk on sheer relief - so I'll do and say whatever I like!!!

Health is wealth, baby - and this week we got paid.
Won the real-life Lotto.


In the eloquent words of Arnie a'la Kindergarten Cop
"it's not a tooma".


Magoo's beautiful brain looks a-ok.

Granted, we haven't got any formal results yet, but I can be confident "it's not a tooma".
The next phase of investigation will probably begin soon, but um, "it's not a tooma".
We may not get to the bottom of the affairs of Magoo's sweet head for a long time, but "it's not a tooma".

Every parent's worst fear has tapped me on the shoulder and then politely racked off.
I couldn't be happier right now.


Giddy stupidity aside, I don't for a second, take it for granted that we were so very fortunate this week.
I have no doubt that there are parents and patients who leave that clinic in despair, while I got to skip my way to the car.


Health IS wealth.
And we are loaded!!

Props to ma boy (see? Intoxicated, I tell you!) for blowing me away with his courage during the MRI.
Magoo was the toast of the place with the way he bravely entered his 'spacesuit' and 'spaceship' and lay perfectly still for what felt like an eternity (okay, 20+ mins!) to this sooky la la.
There's not enough Lego in the world to reward that champion effort!

And I can't even begin to convey how grateful I am to the people around us (and out here) who have also blown my mind with kindness in the past few weeks. 
Just the understanding of beautiful friends has been a Godsend - not to mention the texts, calls, cards, gifts and meals.
We're beyond fortunate in so many ways.

Linking prematurely with Maxabella Loves' 52 Weeks of Grateful


Shar            Hic-cup. :-)

52 Wk Project : Wk 37

The sun.
That vitamin D.
My kryptonite!


I've noticed that I tend to have three effective (for me - do not try this at home) strategies for re-centring when I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed/stressed/narky...


a) Go for a run. The faster, harder and longer  - the better.
b) Hang for 5pm (universal Mummy wine o'clock, no?) and pour myself a big ol glass of something blanc or verdelho.
c) Grab a book (mag, newspaper, piece of junk mail, anything...) and go sit in the sun.


With options a) & b) inaccessible to me at the moment,
Allellulia and praise the Lord for the beautiful sunshine we've been having over here lately.


The mornings are crisp, dark and fresh.
The evenings are chilly, but cosy indoors.
But the part in between, well, it is just glorious.

Anywhere in the sunshine really is my happy place - and, no doubt, one reason why I look a good five years older than I actually am (okay, maybe ten on a bad day even).

It's no surprise that my ipod (and favourite memories) are bursting with tracks that reference the  'rays' I love.
I'm partial to a bit of 'Chase The Sun', 'Let The Sunshine In', 'Blister in the Sun', 'Sun is Shining' etc. etc....
Sunny days = Good times.

Linking with Fi's 52 Week Project.

Take a snap and join us in the sun!
Shar :-)

Can You Hear Me?

Working (and now living) with children on a daily basis, I've always felt a bit attuned to their simple desire to be heard.

They've all got their own little strategies to bend your ear  - from a shy cuddle and whispered story, to getting under your feet constantly, to simply yelling out over the top of anyone else whenever the urge  strikes.


Often all an upset child wants is a sympathetic ear, a look of understanding and a gentle rub on the shoulder.
So often, the magic ice pack or miraculous band aid don't even need to make an appearance if you simply stop and listen.


So many kids will happily follow adults like the Pied Piper in the classroom or on duty, just merrily filling us in on the minutiae of their precious lives.


More often than not, serial 'dobbers' are just little people who are trying to find ways to be listened to.


Sometimes it's far more serious than that, of course.
But the first step in recognising those circumstances is in the listening too.

Magoo?

He. talks. non. stop.

And I'm not exaggerating.

I know it drives some people around the bend - myself included on a bad day.

But he doesn't often whinge or argue, he just loves to chat (to put it mildly).

He has a lot of questions he would love answered and little stories to tell.

Again, he often just wants me (or whoever is 'lucky' enough to be bombarded) to make some sort of appropriate listening sound along the way or at least acknowledge his question.

When I'm feeling less than enamoured by that gorgeous, relentless voice coming at me I catapult myself to years ahead when I know I'll long for a decent conversation with my boy.

When grunts, single syllables and attitude may well be my companions instead.

But, it's not confined to children this innate desire to share and to be heard.
I think it's universal.


It's the cornerstone of Facebook's astronomical success.
It's why many of us blog.
It why a great number of new (and old) Mums love their mothers' group.
It's why the blank, impassive face of a partner or friend can feel like a kick in the guts when we put something out there.


I think we all want to feel that somebody, somewhere is picking up what we're putting down, you know?!


I'm guilty of being a poor listener at times - and it's something I regularly vow to work on.

I need to slow down, disregard the clock. Interrupt less. Remember the details. Avoid the tendency to 'solve' the issue. Put my phone down - unless the person is on the other end! Make eye contact. Ask better questions. Paraphrase. Read between the lines.

I'm blessed to have some seriously fabulous listeners in my life - and it's such a gift.

You hear me?

Linking with Jane's 'Post Of The Month Club'.
Come have a listen.


Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Chase The Sun

The boys, the park, the footy,  the sunshine - the simple pleasures.

Aaaahhhh.

In the interest of keeping our colds to ourselves, we... well, kept our colds to ourselves this weekend.

Once I got past my reluctance to let people down and my aversion to cancelling anything if I can avoid it,

 it was a good feeling being commitment free.

The result was some lovely, quality family time, a few beautiful doses of vitamin D and hopefully enough down time to bore the bugs away.

If I'm not careful, this 'yes' woman might just become accustomed to the slower pace around here.

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot.

How was your weekend?

Headless chook or more semi-comatose chicken?

Shar :-)

Grateful For...Inflation!

Uuuhh no. Not the economic kind.

I let myself get a tad flat earlier in the week.
(Or was it last week? It's all a blur!!)

Emotionally, physically, motivationally...
I let the air escape outta me and was getting a bit stabby up in my head, to be brutally honest.

I don't wear disengaged apathy very well.
(Does anyone?  The emo look is hardly flattering.)
To the point where people remark how dreadful I look!!

But, the last couple of days the fog has lifted a bit.
I'm less snotty, less snooty and less snippy.

I've found some energy, immunity (and tolerance) reserves to draw on.
I've been pumped back up and feel reinvigorated.

Up, up and awaaay.

So I'm grateful for bouncing back.
For reclaiming my usual perspective to again appreciate the wonderful, generous folk I'm surrounded by.

To fully, consciously enjoy my family in each moment.
To delight in having my cousin stay with us.
To think to stop and tell my beautiful colleague(s) how much her(their) kindness is appreciated.
To value some incredible friends.
To smile at strangers.
To admire the beauty around me.
To sit back amidst 64 excited kids on excursion and soak up their enthusiasm.
To joke and laugh and just let. it. go.

It's good to be back!!

What are you grateful for leading into this weekend?
Come link with Maxabella @ Village Voices.

I hope it's a beautiful couple of days wherever you are.

Shar :-)

Love Is...

Love Is...
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude.
1 Corinthians 13 v 4 - 5

As we've heard at many a wedding, love is so many honourable and admirable things.

Is it possible then, that our beautiful ENT specialist is love personified?

Today, Love Is Also...
Love is finding an appointment where one (apparently) did not exist.
Love is speaking gently and with compassion.
Love is engaging with the whole family as real people and remembering the little details.

Love is being a miracle-performing professor but instead using the title 'Mr'.
Love is a camera up my (ridiculously compliant) little boy's nose.
Love is an MRI waiting list months long, reduced to one week.
Love is reassuring a Mum that you can be trusted and relied upon.
1 Shar 13 v 1-7

I may well be infatuated by relief or the shortcut to that MRI next week, but I swear there were little birds flying around that man's sweet head this afternoon.

Thank you for your support, encouragement (and patience) as I sweat this issue a little here at the moment.
I know it's boring and repetitive - but it's where I am right now.
I also know Magoo will be just fine - I just look forward to having that confirmed next week.
I also, also know that I am fortunate to be surrounded by such beautiful, incredibly kind people - in person and over here. Blessed.
I also, also, also know that taking choccies into the clinic staff is a very good idea! :-)

Shar :-)

52 Week Project : Wk 36

I did consider posting this selfie this week...

but thought that might be disrespectful to elephants everywhere.

Take 2...

Happy days.

I'm super aware that this is as comfortable as parenting gets.

(In practical terms anyhow. I'm going to pretend for a moment that I'm not worried out of my mind about his little 'health situation'.)

 

A beautiful boy happily leading me around one of my favourite places - the zoo.

A beautiful bump that (at this point in time) is giving me no grief and more than willing to follow Magoo's lead.

A full night's sleep under my belly belt.

Plus a hands-free-to-actually-drink-it hot chocolate to boot.

This caper ain't going to last.

(If every second person I've encountered over the past three years is to be believed, anyway!)

So, I'm determined to enjoy it while I can.

Fast forward a year and this gorgeous boy will be at kindy four days a week.

I'm assuming I'll have to get him there, right?!

Preferably bathed, fed, dressed appropriately, on time and with adequate nutrition for the day.

The fuss-free bump will be my baby girl - who, no doubt, won't be into letting Mummy savour hot drinks and wander aimlessly through lush gardens.

Try as I might.

I look forward to what is ahead for my little family, but I'm also conscious of savouring this time too.

A cold has rendered me pretty anti-social for the last couple of days and I have relished in soaking up one on one time with my Magoo.

This week aside, we've spent lots of 'us' time together in the last few months pottering, exploring, visiting, playing tourists and hanging out in coffee shops.

I know I'll look back on this time with him so fondly and am determined to drink it in.

Linking with gorgeous Fi and her 52 Week Project.

Shar :-)

How Far Is Too Far??

Asking most parents just how far they would go for their child/ren is akin to asking the age old
'how long is a piece of string?'
'To infinity and beyond' doesn't even begin to cover it,  Buzz.


Unfortunately, in my line of work, I've seen occasions where that all-consuming fierce urge to protect one's child can move into the unhealthy zone.
When that beautiful, unrivalled love can make a parent completely lose perspective and reason.

When, unfortunately, intense emotions can result in actions that are actually to the detriment of a child's well being, socialisation, education or resilience.
I think most teachers vow that they never want to be 'that' parent, cross 'that' line.
But it's such a faint line.

When it comes to my son's health, my instincts go into overdrive.
I'm not phased by teeth, colds, coughs and tummy bugs etc. etc. etc.
They're just a part of childhood  - and life.
 But, when there's something ' just not right' - those flashing red lights take root in my mind.
I cannot be complacent, easygoing or patient.
I won't just 'wait and see' or 'try not to think about it'.


I behave differently than the person I am.
This woman who would rather wait ten minutes than speak up, who isn't confident enough to change lanes in the supermarket queue or on the freeway if it might disturb someone, who can't be assertive in social situations, who avoids conflict like the plague - she morphs into someone else. 

A Mama.
A Mama who won't take a seat and shooosh.
A Mama who will try every avenue and resource available.
A Mama who will keep going until she's heard and her son is seen/treated.


Occasionally, I feel a twang of something - maybe guilt or self consciousness - about how pro-active I am in, proverbially, pushing every door until one opens.
However, past experiences have shown me that there's no shame in advocating and fighting for your child's health.
Unfortunately, it's almost necessary.
What's a bit of my dignity  - if it saves my child(ren) pain or trauma or worse?

Someone in the health system recently commented that, sadly, it's those who shout the loudest that get the attention we all deserve.
It's my responsibility to get a little shouty (not literally if I can help it!) on behalf of my child then, isn't it?


I read in Saturday morning's paper of a woman who neglected her bub's health so badly that a perfectly healthy child is now blind, quadriplegic and suffering seizures.
Her only explanation is that she was "too lazy" to seek treatment for her child.


I may be like a bull at a (specialists office) gate sometimes, but no matter what, my children (and Hubby) will know that I leave nothing to chance and that I am far from "lazy" in my care for them.


So, how far is too far to go for your kids?


Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Cheer Squad



Sunday : 9.00am

Another weekend is leaving us in it's wake.

Parties, movies, weekend papers, newborns, dinners, races, snoozing,

nursery makeovers, footy and a truckload of washing

 are waving a-bye-bye.

This pic was taken on Sunday at the inaugural half marathon event

organised and run by my running club on our home turf.

Cheering for the runners from the sidelines was every bit as satisfying

as it would have been if I had been sweating it out on that course.

LIE! :-)

It was a ton of fun.

However, for the first time in a few months I did truly miss the endorphins, the nerves,

 the camaraderie, the exertion, the lycra legs.

There's a lot to be said for living vicariously though

- particularly through my speedster sister in law who absolutely blitzed

to win the women's event in an amazing time.

Something I couldn't manage even in my wildest dreams.

Instead of pounding that pavement, I got to spend precious time with my nephews and Magoo.

So I guess I won too.

Plus, I can still walk (waddle) fairly comfortably tonight.

Hope you have had a winning weekend.

Pointing + Shooting with gorgeous Lou.

Shar :-)

Grateful For... Little Pleasures

I've failed the patience test this week.
Dismally.

 

Almost as pitifully as some of the efforts I've seen in NAPLAN in the past few days.
Poor little sweethearts.

 

So, to distract myself, I've been delighting in simple, everyday pleasures that can put a smile on this dial...

• a dry bed each morning (and I don't just mean mine)
• dinners eaten without a word of whinging or negotiation (and I don't just mean Hubby!)
• hot chocolate with extra marshmallows
• smiles that melt my heart
• snuggles
• a cosy Winter doona
• a trashy magazine and that sweet spot on the couch
• clean floors - even when oh-so-fleeting!!
• the sun on my shoulders
• a spot of baby girl inspired retail therapy
• newborns joining the fold
• a pantry Tupperware-over
• kids and their gorgeous ways
• a certain little boy in his dressing gown
• sweet 'i love you's
• ugg boots at the end of the day
• gorgeous nephew cuddles
• fresh flowers
•  'easy' friendships that just are (and I don't mean the promiscuous types!)
• movies so wrong, they're hilarious...

Then there's the not so simple, not so everyday stuff.
The smack me down with a feather kindness of people willing to go out of their way for me -  at least three times in the last couple of days, if you don't mind!
It's enough to make a girl wanna bawl!!

Grateful for turning my week around - in the little and the big ways.

Happy weekend.


Shar :-)

Don't Blink!!

Um, excuse me?

Is it possible to blink and have ten years go by?
When exactly did my beautiful baby boy become a teenager?

The posture, the stance.
Too. Cool. For. School. - except he hasn't even started school for goodness' sake!!

Thankfully, he did manage to bring himself down a peg or two to dance, sing and have a great time.

But, then there was this...

Hellooooo, lovebirds!!!!
Whole concert happening behind you!!

To top it off, they fought the whole car ride home.

They may as well be married already.
(Thank God, we love her parents!!)

Shar :-)

52 Week Project : Wk 35

Magoo : Mum, please don't bring that tummy too close to my Lego. It's very big and it might smash it down.

The boy does have a point.

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

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : The Spoils



Saturday : 3.00pm

 From the moment Hubby and Magoo pulled into the driveway on Friday evening bearing

dinner, non alcoholic bubbly and a bunch of flowers - this weekend was mine.

After toasting Hubby's first, fabulous week in his new job, the next couple of days unfolded beautifully.

The perfect blend of pottering, productivity and pampering.

Even Sir Sunshine came to the party on Saturday, with an unseasonally glorious afternoon by the coast.

I feel so wonderfully blessed and spoilt by the last couple of days

- and by the couple of super special boys (+ one tiny girl!) who have made me one very fortunate Mummy.

I hope your weekend (and Mothers Day) was one to treasure.

Linking with beautiful Lou...

Shar :-)

Grateful for...Happy Hubby

My hubby has that sparkle in his eye again.
He's got a spring in his step.
He is full of chat, ideas, inspiration and enthusiasm.


I truly wish that I could say I'm responsible for his new lease on life.
That I'm the cause of his swagger and strut.


But, no. He's taken another...


job.

Hubby started in his new role this week - and the man is hap-to the -py.
He's in the blissful honeymoon period where his new love company can do no wrong.
The birds are singing, the air is sweet and the sun is shining.

As for me, I'm super proud (with a fair amount of relief thrown into the mix).
This is definitely a silver lining scenario and it makes me just about giddy to see Hubby so motivated and content.

I know that traditionally happy wife, happy life is the catch phrase.
But happy hubby, happy chubby (wife) seems to apply here.

Professionally, Hubby has had a brilliant week.
For that I am so very grateful.

Long live the honeymoon.


Shar :-)

Go Away!

It appears I'm not the only one feeling a little tense this week.

I snapped this outside an apartment as Magoo and I walked to the specialists rooms today.
I was amused.
There are a lot of medical suites in the area - this is obviously not one of them.

Then I signed a piece of paper requesting an urgent brain scan to detect the presence (or please please please God, the absence) of a brain tumour in my three year old son.

On the walk back I very nearly tore down the sign and took it home to my place.
I was empathic all of a sudden.

There's nothing more grounding than scary medical 'swear' words in black and white.
My heart refuses to slow down, my breathing is shallow and I'm literally throwing these stupid Maltesers down my throat.

Magoo will be just fine.
Magoo will be just fine.
Magoo will be just fine.
I know he will.

How do amazing families live with far, far worse circumstances each and every day????
It's beyond comprehension for me right now.
x

The Day My Cousin Came To Dinner...True Story

My cousin came over for dinner on the weekend.

Insert silly smile and excited shoulder thing I do that makes me look like a fool.

This might be a fairly ordinary occurrence for most people.

Not for me.

Every single one of my relatives live overseas.

90% of them literally on the other side of the world.

My cousin has come down under for a year (or hopefully more) to work, rest and play(Mars Bar anyone?!) and I'm a tad excited.

I was on a bit of a blood-relative-in-my-county-never-mind-my-home high after seeing my boys enjoy his company and after soaking up his familiar Irishness on Sunday.

Just like when I travelled home to Ireland with Magoo last year, he took to my cousin instantly and gave up the "I shy" game pretty much immediately. Magoo also refused to sleep without the gift that my cousin had given him. Four nights later and he's still attached to it. These kids, they just know.


My cous is thirteen years younger than me, so I'm sure he has better things to do here than entertain his old big-bellied cousin, but I'm so excited to have him around.


He has family from his 'other side' over here in Australia too - including some his own age, so I can't completely claim him while he's here - but a little innocent stalking should be perfectly acceptable on my part, right?


Do you ever crave that shared history/'our family's a bit nuts, isn't it' connection?

Shar :-)

52 Week Project : Wk 34

In the words of Magoo -

"I happy!! So, so, so, so, soooooo happy!"

Today was the Mothers Day morning tea at Magoo's pre kindy/daycare.

It was also a day that I was scheduled to work.

Cue the eternal struggle of working Mums the world over.

Enter stage left the kindness and understanding of a colleague/assistant principal who thankfully 'gets it'.

I was so, so grateful to be given a little 'leave pass' during my school day to be with Magoo.

I've been on the other side countless times - comforting and trying to make it up to the students whose Mums/Dads/grandparents/family couldn't be at a special event for whatever reason.

My heart literally sank at the thought of that being Magoo today.

Instead, I got to enjoy the sweet, sweet experience that is a bunch of excited little ones parading their Mums around the room and singing their cute hearts out.

One small step for woman, one huge moment for this Mum.

Linking with a blissed out Fi and her 52 Week Project.

Shar :-)

Gatekeepers

It's safe to say that since my beautiful Magoo entered this world a bruised and battered mess, we've had our fair share of medical melodrama - like many, many others.

Thankfully (and I am so truly, truly thankful) none of these have been life threatening.
Definitely challenging, stressful and emotional - but hey, that's motherhood.

I've been lucky enough to entrust my son to some amazing doctors, nurses, specialists and surgeons in the last three and a half years.

Cheese. We flippin love this hospital caper.

I have the utmost respect for each and every one of them.

But I'm afraid I don't feel quite the same way about some of their support staff.
The gatekeepers  - as I like/feel the need to call them.
The people (in my experience, women) who man the phones and apparently have the divinely gifted right to reduce an already fragile mother to tears in record time.

I'm (genuinely) sorry to say that not even just some, but most of them, have been the bane of my existence!

I've encountered, time and time again, receptionists who are completely unwilling to offer any information unless you ask the precisely worded question they want to hear in order to elicit the response you need.

I've heard numerous lies, diversion strategies, nonchalant half-answers and ridiculous requests.

The deliberately difficult manner in which many (not all, not all, not all) medical admin staff behave astounds me.
Does it fulfil them to consciously frustrate, belittle and disregard other people throughout the course of their day?

I understand that these doctors are incredibly busy, sought after people.
I can sense the pressure and constraints that some practices are operating under.
I don't feel I have any more right to their time and expertise than anyone else - but I do expect (deserve) a certain level of respect and common courtesy.

So this morning's conversation with possibly the most difficult gatekeeper I have ever had the (dis)pleasure of meeting has me a little gggrrrrrr today.

But I'll persist with her - 'cause us mama bears don't take no (or "um, probably not", "I can't really say", "he's unavailable indefinitely"....) for an answer.

I'm a pregnant grizzly who is trying not to get too anxious about my son's condition.
But, rude lady,  my son is three.
The word 'tumour' (among many, many other words - please God let it be the other words) was used last week.
I was specifically asked to contact your beloved Dr. to book this MRI for my little person AKA the centre of my universe- and I'm becoming slightly more agitated as each day goes by.

Look out, desk woman.
Shar vs Gatekeeper - round 4  - is on the under card very soon.

Am I out of line?
Are you on the other side of the desk rolling your eyes at me too?

Shar :-)