When Nothing Goes Right...

Maxabella wrote about picnicking your troubles away over at Village Voices this week.
Whilst I initially clicked over there for her Chicken and Leek Pie recipe, I came away with this beauty instead...

"When nothing goes right, go outside".

No truer words have been spoken.
Or typed.
Or virtually shared.
Or whatever.

Claustrophobia seems to be my go-to condition when a day turns to bleeeuuuaaaggh (which can be known to happen long before midday!) or anxiety starts to build.

Some people like to (or maybe tend to - 'cause who likes being a ball of anxious mess, really??) shut themselves off from the world in times of stress or distress.

Not I.

I tend to throw open the doors and windows, scour the street for our neighbours or roll out the bike/pram combo and get the kids moving.
Take some time to get me breathing. Listening. Recentring.

There really is something 'great' about the great outdoors.

Fresh air is one powerful prescription - and so budget friendly!

One of my favourite elements of these Summer months, is being outdoors in the evenings.
Whether it's playing and chatting on our lawn, chalk drawing on the driveway, taking dinner down to the beach or walking/riding before bedtime - it's a therapy all of it's own for me.

Which makes me a little wistful as I watch another few Summer storms come rolling in here on the West!!
It's Summer - but not as we know it.

Shar :-)

Dear Santa - I'm Blank!

Well, well, wells, I was taggy tagged by Loz over at Ninja Towers last week, but you know,
time (and that Christmas train) is stopping for no lazy blogger is it??

So, it's my turn to put pen to paper (or tip-tap this keyboard) and drop Santa Claus a line or two.
I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear from me amidst all of his list making and checking.

Dear Santa,

Howdy.
What a year, hey?

I won't bore you with the details, but it has been quite the dramatic year around these parts.
The highest of highs (we shall call her MIssi) and some obligatory lows (which shall remain nameless) to keep it real.

Now Santa, please don't be disappointed in me.
I mean you absolutely no disrespect.

The very thing that I'm sure my parents would have loooooved (and just about keeled over) to hear when I was growing up has occurred this December.

I'm a little me-me-me gift stumped!!

I have me no list, old man.
I know. 
It's not a typo, Santa.
A blank list. Nada. Nothing.

I have spent a few days (and quite a few "but you must want something"s from Hubby) racking this fragile little head
- and I keep coming up empty.

I guess that makes me very content... or too exhausted to contemplate the material stuff right now!

There doesn't seem to be much you can do for me this year, Big Red.
(Unless you and the elves are harbouring a magic cure for Bubby reflux and the resulting Mummy wrist issues - then I'ma on my way to the North Pole as I type.)

I have my beautiful Hubby home with us a lot more than usual in the next three weeks and that's the most valuable gift I could request right now, to be honest.
I'm sure Mrs Claus felt very similarly when she had little ones hanging out of her all day.

And now that I think of it, I guess one well placed Powerball could make that a permanent household arrangment, couldn't it?
Don't spose you get too many requests of the Lotto/Powerball variety  though,do you??!!
Much.

But gifts for my two little people, Mr Claus?

Now, that's a different story entirely.

Go right ahead and spoil them rotten if you like.

Because really, their pleasure is mine too.

The gorgeous boy here has no trouble with his list composing, that's for sure.

And the sweet, smiley bubby girl, she'll enjoy the wrapping and the animated faces at the very least.

Your visit is much anticipated around our place - despite my own lack of a list, so please don't be offended and skip us altogether.

If it comes to it, feel free to take these last couple of kilos I'm lugging about and pop them in the back of that sleigh as your gift to me.

Or at least see if you can find my running mojo out there on your travels.

Oh - and hey -  fix that air conditioning while you're on the roof, would you?!

Stay safe Santa and enjoy that bevvy Magoo will delight in leaving you and the reindeer.

Shar :-)

What's on your list?
Or do you have any suggestions for mine??

Point + Shoot : Slip + Slide

One hot, humid afternoon.

One lawn.

One large piece of black plastic.

One (or two) bottle (s) of 'slip'.

One hose.

One happy little man.

(Until it's time to call it quits, that is.)

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot

How was your weekend?

Any slippery business?

Shar :-)

A Neeeew Man

Apparently I'm in the running for a brand new and improved husband after today.

I would happily settle for a much needed washing machine upgrade - but hey.

Now, let's make it very clear that I am madly in love with my current Hubby.

I'm not usually a violent person, but sometimes, in the wee end-of-my-tether-just-wanted-some-rest hours I'm so MADly in love with him that I kick him and seriously consider smacking him out.

He snores, my (current) Hubby.
Chronically.

I have a difficult relationship with sleep at the best of times, but Hubby's (unintended, I know, I know, I know) interference often takes it to the next level of downright dysfunctional.

After only approximately three years of nagging him, my Hubby finally went to see an ENT a couple of months ago.
It turns out he has a severely broken nose.
And has had for about six years now.

(In case you're wondering - 'cause it crossed my guilty mind too - the broken nose came BEFORE the occasional 'wanting to smack him out' business. Probably before we were married actually.)

According to the specialist and others, Hubby will feel like 'a new person' after today's surgery to correct his nose.

I can only wonder what this new person will bring to my life!!

Maybe this new man will do the spontaneous pick up a cheap bunch of flowers just because.
Maybe this new man will have outstanding vision - and actually see his clothes strewn on the floor?
Maybe this new man will be overcome with urge to cook a meal every now and then?

Or...
Maybe this new man will stop patiently tolerating my gazillion flaws and start looking for his own new woman!

All lame jokes aside, I'm feeling a tad sick to my fluttery stomach as I watch the clock here. As it's not exactly feasible to cart a bub and a boy around a hospital all day, I'm at home with them -  knowing that Hubby will be going under pretty soon.

Suddenly, I have this compulsion to iron everything in sight.

Nervous, anyone?!

 

I can't wait to have my new (old) man back where he belongs.

(Which is not out on his own huge, skippered boat with his brand new surf ski on board chasing waves with a bunch of his mates - despite what he would like to make believe.)

Shar :-)

The Princess And The A/C

Once upon a time there lived a princess.
A spoilt princess with a few control issues it seemed.
You see, she really liked being able to control her environment.
Reeeeeally liked it.

The princess and her hubby prince were not fancy people.
She wouldn't have even noticed the difference between laminate or stone on a bench top.

But she did like her ducted, reverse cycle air conditioning, this princess.

That was until a ridiculous almost-Summer-time storm hit the West where she lived and virtually blew up a component of the air conditioning.
The very component which offered the cooling effect the princess so enjoyed.

So, in the days that followed,  a trusty air conditioning repairman was summonsed to visit the castle.
He identified the issue, ordered the necessary parts and went on his merry way.

Unfortunately, before these parts could arrive the temperature in the West began to rise.
And rise.
And rise.

This made the princess quite agitated and sweaty indeed.
She was feeling very sorry for her poor children who were sleeping (or trying to sleep) in sauna-like conditions in their bedrooms.
The princess begged the prince to request the air conditioning repairman "doooo somethiiing".
But alas, there was little relief to be found.

For now, the spoilt princess is standing in front of a pedestal fan, spraying the room with a mist of cold water and wondering how she ever lived happily ever after before installing air con five years ago.

To be continued....

Same, Same - and Same Again

In the last few days, I've been bitten by the monotony of life as a full time stay-at-home-Mum.

I mean no disrespect to my children - because I love them to the moon and back - but at times I struggle with the actual stay-at-home component of this role.

Missi has hit that age where she is a tad less tag-along, bless her.
Sister likes her cot - and you can't argue with that if she's happily sleeping in it a couple of times a day.
Sister also has a few feeding issues, so spends the bulk of her 'awake time' trying to drink her bottle - which of course, is attached to my hand.
Unfortunately, sister ain't so fond of her pram at the moment.

Last week, I stayed home literally every day.
Friends came to play and visit.
We had people over for dinner.
I popped to the shops briefly.
I drove Magoo to and from kindy twice.
The weather was just atrocious.
I had plenty to occupy my time around here...
But I was at home pretty much all. week. long.

Then, when Hubby left to paddle in a race for most of Saturday - I cried.
Like a big sooky bubby.

I would never want him to forgo his own interests, but as I watched him drive off I was struck with a sense of being 'trapped' here in this home and role of 'Mum'.

Man, I know just how ungrateful and pathetic that sounds.
(So, so, so very, very ungrateful and pathetic.)
I know how fortunate I am that my children sleep in their beds or follow any patterns at all.
I also know that I'll be over this slumpy slump mood in no time - probably the moment I hit publish and exhale.

Sometimes, I wish I was one of those homely types who is content to potter around my home for days on end.
Doing the same chores and activities over and over and over and over again without any deviation from the norm.
Perfectly content in my own company and that of these two gorgeous little people.

Unfortunately, I think a couple of days without a change of scenery is my limit.

The irony is that I do love routines and I'm a creature of habit in so many areas of my life.
I do routines well. Too well at times.
I just like them peppered with variety and broken up with new visuals I guess!

Pram aversion or no pram aversion - we will be getting out more this week my lovely Missi Moo.


Huh?? Are you calling me boring Mum??
You say that only boring people get bored!


Love :
rou·tine/ruˈtin/  noun 
1. a customary or regular course of procedure.
2. commonplace tasks, chores, or duties as must be done regularly or at specified intervals; typical or everyday activity: the routine of an office. 
3. regular, unvarying, habitual, unimaginative, or rote procedure.
4. an unvarying and constantly repeated formula, as of speech or action; convenient or predictable response

Not so much :
monotony  (məˈnɒtənɪ) 
1.  wearisome routine; dullness 
2.  lack of variety in pitch or cadence 

It's a fine line I guess!

Does anyone else out there suffer from cabin fever?
Aaaanyone?

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Festivus

Like many families, our silly season was officially opened this weekend.

Let the festivities begin!

Did you observe the 1st of December tradition at your place?

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot

Shar :-)