It's... Law School

Last week I was waxing lyrical about wanting to sloooow down the pace here.


Yesterday, I was living the adage 'be careful what you wish for'.

I became aware of just how excruciatingly sloooow life can be.
LIfe as a prospective juror.
Especially a prospective juror looking down the barrel of a three week trial.


Last Monday I was privy to the delights of real live 'Play School' - with these fully grown men and women playing clown putting on a show for our benefit.

 

This Monday I was privy to the delights of real live 'Law School' - with a whole different set of fully grown men and women playing clown putting on a show for their own benefit, it seems.


Being summonsed to jury duty was a life long ambition of mine.
By 10am yesterday, it felt like a life long experience of mine too.

I have nosey parker tendencies and I do like the notion of contributing to our justice system.

Especially since they have tightened the rules so that my employer's letter and young child excuse didn't cut the mustard with the Sherrif's Office. Turn up or pay up appears to be their new motto. (Hence, the stream of prospective juror excuses poured out to the weary judge in the middle of the courtroom during selection instead of on paper before wasting everyybody's time).


I did enjoy gaining some insight into how (slowly) our judicial system operates in detail and full colour. I particularly enjoyed watching a selected juror backchat the judge while the rest of us looked at each other with incredulous, nervous amusement like school children. I also couldn't help but feel for the accused  - being ogled by a large bunch of strangers. Had I ended up on the alternative 'indecent dealing' case, this sympathy may not have been a factor though.

I did not enjoy the prospect of 21 long, sloooow days hearing 72 seperate, but almost identical, counts against the one accused.


Thankfully my extended Magoo duty trumped extended jury duty at the last turn and I was released to enjoy the delightfully slooow sushi train of Jaws - bliss, before coming home to pick up the pace again.

It's my hope that this voyeuristic near brush with the judicial system is the closest I ever come to gracing a courtroom again. (You hear that, Magoo?!)


Shar, your honour.
 :-)

Point + Shoot : Me, Me, Me + Me!

Sunday - 1:30pm
Yes - I know. Shock, Horror. This is a Magoo-free photo.
And, d'ya know what- that's okay sometimes. 

This pic really captures my weekend.
Newly pedicured but still mangled toes, book in hand, sun streaming in, both my boys content and snoring behind shot.
In a word - selfish.
See, I said my weekend even.
Not ours. Mine.

I'm wavering between guilt and gloat here!

This weekend has been the most indulgent, selfish couple of days I can remember in quite a few years.

From my favourite outsourced meal of Japanese take away on Friday night,
to a beautiful chilled out run on Saturday morning,
to the totally indulgent. long awaited, deal of the century pampering at Lush Beauty Salon with a bestie, 
(thank you, wise Living Social purchase months ago!),
to midday nibbles on the couch with my beautiful boys, the papers and the footy,
to lazing the afternoon away with neighbours, energetic dogs, my men and a dose of vitamin D,
to a gorgeous, hilarious dinner with the girls Saturday night,
to what turned into the BIG RIDICULOUSLY MASSIVE night out with the girls well into Sunday morning,
to begging Hubby to "please take him away" when Magoo came into our bed not even 45 minutes after I had got there
(in fairness, it was morning and I had been shamefully incredibly late - or early- home)
to a Sunday morning coffee with a long lost friend while our little boys played and our big boys paddled their skis,
to the seriously sweet snuggles I enjoyed with Magoo in church,
to a book in the afternoon sunshine while the boys napped,
to a gorgeous afternoon with friends at the Marina and a dinner of deliciously greasy fish and chips.


Note the distinct lack of anything even remotely resembling what the media/stereotypes shove down our throats as being associated with 'good mothering'?
Like baking, cleaning, cooking, mopping, sewing, disinfecting, crafting, gardening, breastfeeding, returning to the catwalk rocking a cut away one piece weeks after giving birth - naturally and drug free of course.


No, nope, no way. None of that here this weekend.


The closest I got to wearing my Miranda 'Mummy of the Moment' tiara was a bit of laundry (which involved stupidly  'pinking' some non pink items - fail anyway!), some general tidying, watering the thirsty plants and slapping together cop-out 'taste plate' lunches.

Just quietly, it was awesome.

Wanna come Point + Shoot with bridesmaid Lou @ Sunny + Scout?

Shar :-)

Grateful For... Her Next Door

As the Swedish say
'Love Where You Live'.

Well just the folk at Ikea, probably.

But I do.

Love where I live.

We won the neighbour lottery and have ended up smack bang in the middle of,
roll up, roll up, ladieeees and gentlemen... 
the greatest street on Earth.
Or close to anyway.


Where people just click - but not clique.
Where everyone waves, smiles or flags one another down.
Where we can chat, yell, laugh, cry, offload or drink an afternoon away.
Where our kids play - horribly one day, beautiful the next. And it's all good.
Where the older kids look out for the younger ones and make them the sweetest home made birthday cards.


Where random Thursday evenings somehow morph into little street parties on our lawn.
Where it's a-ok to be having a bad day.
Where someone's got your back at all times.
Where the Christmas street party is looked forward to and even 'rehearsed' for!
Where the comfort level is as high as the kids tearing around the place.


Where we deliberately leave our garage door up, the front door open and blinds raised.
Where kids can watch from the window and squeal "he's/she's hooooome now Mum!"
Where we can run over anytime pyjama-clad or bra-less for that cup of sugar, egg, thermometer, bottle opener or second opinion.


A great little cul de sac around a bend where the only traffic is local.
Where said traffic knows to be considerate of dogs, prams, small people, balls, bikes, scooters and anything else that moves.
Where even stray animals are cared for by the whole street - and toasted with a bottle of bubbly.


I'm so grateful for her next door, him up the street, those across the road and them in the corner...

I'm not alone in my gratitude here.

Grateful For - this week hosted  @ A Day In The Life Of Us

Shar :-)

Reduce Speed

All this thinking about slowing down here reminded me of one of the many ways my little borther used to get a rise out of my Mum when we were younger.

Of course, he got away with it every time.

He's not affectionately known as 'Golden Balls' merely for his b-ball skills.

Mum : Right lads, everyone into de car.
Bro : Mum, are you Irish?
Mum : Of course I'm feckin' Irish. Now get in de car would ya.
Bro : Mum, are you sure you're Irish?
Mum : I'm Irish, yes. Are you wrong in de head or someting? Hurry up.
Bro : Mum, are you really sure you're Irish?
Mum : Ah to be Jaysus, Mary and Joseph didn't I say I was feckin' Irish. Get. In. De. Car.
Bro : Mum, are you really, really sure that you're Irish?
Mum : Ah now you. Get in dat car before I clip ya. I'm Irish and that's de end of it.
Bro : It's just that it seems to me, you're always Rushin.

Apologies to any international visitors, but I don't want to always be
a Rushin Mum.

Must. Slow. Down.

Shar :-)

Telltale Signs Part 2 : The Reflection

Sooo, yesterday was a roller coaster.
Nobody was hurt or maimed riding  the ' Boy's Birthday Comedown' , but I certainly did not want to ride again after alighting from the carriage last night. 

The problem is I know that I was a huge contributor to yesterday's angst.
Not by engaging with Magoo's frustration or taking the bait when he was ridiculously unreasonable (surprisingly).
I didn't pay attention to the warning signs that the little man was posting along the way to Meltdown city.

I have written about how Magoo is my reminder to slow down and live in the moment before.
I thrive on being busy, productive and social.
We have been insanely busy, productive and social lately.

Magoo has coped remarkably well with a whirlwind few months and I'm thinking yesterday was the culmination of serious overstimulation on his part.
The life I have created for him, for us, is too much for him.
If that indicates that my boy belongs on some spectrum somewhere, so be it.
(Or indicates that I belong in an institution somewhere, so be that too.)

I was disappointed with Magoo's behaviour for most of playgroup yesterday  - when he went from being a normal, law abiding, tax paying citizen of Tantrumtown to being the self appointed Mayor in a matter of minutes.

But, maybe he was disappointed in me for not listening when he specifically told me he did not want to go to playgroup. When in my infinite motherly wisdom I thought "he'll be fine when we get there".

Or maybe it was the fact that I dragged him to four different places to buy more stamps, mail thank yous, deliver presents and return property - before arriving at playgroup.
Hmmm. Take the pedal off the metal , Mum.

It's time to pull back and remove some of the useless 'busyness' from our life.
From Magoo's life.
Time to make play doh while the sun shines.

There'll be a time when he'll spend his days being 'busy' with other people and I'll crave some down time with my boy. I can run around like a headless chook to my heart's content then.

Even I am feeling the pinch of the pace I've set here.
I've lost a little running mojo and don't wake up looking forward to hitting the road.
I literally crawled onto the couch and dozed for a few minutes yesterday evening, before I'd even put Magoo to bed.
This does not happen here.
The only time it ever has, I was in the early stages of pregnancy with Magoo.
It's so rare that, yes, I tested and no, I'm not.

So... Spring Steps...

• chill the heck out
• get back to basics
• stop overplanning and  super cramming our week
• ignore those sweet little smears on the window/tv screen for now
• limit outings, play dates and social activities to one a day where possible
• go to bed earlier
• say 'no thank you' occasionally to some parties,  invitations, requests.
• stay at home, for goodness sake (without inviting the world over)
• set two nights a week only for school work/committee meetings
• let Magoo set the pace and direction of our day at least once a week

Any tips on 'finding the balance'?

Wishing you a happy feet kinda day.

Shar :-)

Telltale Signs

How do you know your spoilt toddler has been

particularly 'challenging' and 'vocal' today?

You spend most of playgroup lip reading over the sound of shrieking and persistent whinging in your ear - while everyone else pretends it's not bothering them at all.

That's how.

Thank you patient Mummies.

Your beautiful neighbour takes it upon herself to bring you over a freshly poured glass of muumy juice at 4.30pm!

That's how.

Thank you kind comrade.

Your Hubby hasn't been in the door two seconds before sending a certain little three year old into his room.

That's how.

Thank you beautiful back up.

You put dinner on and lock yourself in the study, desperately trying to distract yourself and ignore the commotion on the other side of the door.

That's how.

Thank you lovely blogland.

Wonder where my neighbour put the bottle?!

Shar :-)


What's the go with the Boy Wonder today, Mum?



Point + Shoot : A Dad & A Lad!



Sunday 6:30am
The much anticipated sock monkey joins the family.

I'm a sucker for a lovely mushy father/son moment

- and around here there are plenty for the picking.

Testament to what a super special Dad young Magoo has.
(Or the fact that I do most of the nasty disciplinarian stuff?!)

After a week or two of Magoo telling his Daddy at every Mummy-free opportunity that he was

"not going to talk to woo bout sock monkey pwesents,

or shishing wods or beer (port, actually love)"

- it's little wonder Hubby was not-so-much blown away by his Father's Day gifts.

Magoo did forget to blab about the father/son photo frame, cute book and personalised mug - so at least there was a tiny element of (corny) surprise left.

Luckily for Magoo, 'adorable blabbermouth' holds far more value

 than 'secret squirrel' in this home.

Hubby is easily pleased (a trait most evident in his choice of life partner, I'd say) and we enjoyed a beautiful day simply hanging out.

After the heart stopping surprise gift opening, I cooked a rather ordinary but much appreciated bacon omelette and we took our sweet morning time as a family for the first time in what seems like forever.

The rest of the morning was spent hanging out with the neighbours in the teaser of sunshine, playing with new toys at the park, getting absolutely drenched when the clouds gave way and soggily stopping for milkshakes and a "babytuna".

After all the exertion/excitement of unsuccessfully outrunning the rain,

Hubby had himself a paddle, Magoo had himself a nap and I had myself a mopping great time.

In the afternoon, after a spot of fishing in the backyard pool (?),  Hubby's family came over for another ordinary culinary effort on my part

- this time a lazy roast.

We played, refereed, ate & drank ourselves into contentment.

Somehow, a weekend that was apparently all about my boys'

special days was just as beautiful for me. 

They don't have to know that though.

Come point + shoot with Lou @ Sunny + Scout.

Shar :-)