In The Family Way...

He he.
No, not in the traditional sense.
No bambino number three in the near future here.
I hope.

I'm soaking up this beautiful time with my family of four - and loving it.

But I'm also absolutely loving being the four of us - plus extras.
The 'plus extra' last month was my gorgeous sister who lives in Dublin, (Ireland) (and my nomination for 'Aunty of The Year').

Having my sis stay with us was just as brilliant as I had imagined
- you know, on all those occasions when you just craaaave some family and fantasise about getting a surprise call from the airport.
Or is that just me??

I just relished that comfortable familiarity, the sharing of everyday 'stuff', the in jokes, the way that the mundane can be anything but in the right company.

And my childrens?

  

 Well, I think they may just have been quite content to let me board that plane bound for Dublin if they could keep their beautiful aunty instead.

It's such a privilege to watch someone I love, love on my children so beautifully.

I don't even have the words to articulate how much I appreciate that relationship that my sister has created with my kids.

Of course, the goodbye part was horrendous.

It always is.

But this time Magoo got it.

My sweet, loving little man was as heartbroken as I was.

So, my heart broke twice - once for me and once again for the sobbing boy in my arms.

Agggh.

 Sniff. Sniff.

This week, the 'plus extra' is my baby brother.

He is returning to Australia after twelve years in Ireland -  per. man. ent. ly.

Yep, no goodbye.

No goodbye.

There will be no goodbye.

I don't think that it has actually sunk in that he will not be leaving us.

That I'm no longer alone all the way down under.

My bro flies in - with two of his mates - tomorrow.

I have some beds to make and meals to plan, so I bid you good day.

My home is full.

My family is full.

My heart is full.

My life is full.

And I daresay the blog will be empty!

I hope you are enjoying this crazy year as much as I am - even if 2013 does seem to have developed an unfortunate dependence on stimulants lately! April (and beyond), I can see you hurtling at me at warp speed.

Shar :-)

Hiya!

I'm still here... kinda.

Just enjoying some precious time with my sister while she is in Oz,

getting my head around the new routines and commitments around our place,

immersing myself in my little ones,

trying to devote some quality time to my big one,

... and not really digging my whingy tone on the bloggy blog of late.

I hope you are enjoying a beautiful long weekend...

and loving the loooong part in particular.

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Many Hands

On a whim, it was decided that our poor neglected garden deserved some attention this weekend.

Since having Missi, I seem to be directing all my tender loving care in the direction of the bub, the boy, the dog and the inside of our home.

Leaving, unfortunately, very little energy/time/inclination for the great outdoors.

I only just manage to keep the pool clean, the patio swept and the garden weeded these days.

Hopefully, yesterday's little blitz will keep the poor garden hanging in there until...

um - I guess when the kids leave home, really!!

Have I mentioned how fantastic our street is?

A thousand times? Excellent.

1001...

See that trailer my big boy helper is in?

Not ours. It's a neighbours.

See that arm shoveling?

Not ours. It's a (different) neighbours.

See the pro serious gardening tools that are out of the shot.

Not ours. They're a (different again) neighbour's.

See the chatter throughout the day and the 'job well done' drinks and dinner that were shared after?

At ours - but with more neighbours in the mix.

You can't buy the sort of community we have managed to score here.

Literally - 'cause no one's selling if they can help it!

Our humble little street gives a whole new meaning to 'prime' real estate for me.

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot

Shar :-)

An Apology...

No, I am not apologising for sound like Whingy McWhinge here yesterday.

It's my bloggy and I'll cry if I want to.

(And the universe already punished me with a very sick little Miss who had to be held ALL night long - so there.)

Anyway, I would like to make an apology.

Ahem.

I sincerely apologise to the parents of every child that I have ever taught.

And that's quite a few.

For every time you heard

 "but Miss C says that we're not supposed to"

or

"Miss C said that it works the other way"

or

"Miss C says that's not very healthy"

or

 "Mrs B told us that they have to stay like this"

or

 "Mrs B doesn't want us to do it that way"

or

 "Mrs B says that you're supposed to read it with me"....

You get the idea.

I'm delighted that Magoo loves his teachers.

I do too.

But after only 9 days in her presence, Magoo is choc-o-block full of

'The World According To Mrs S'!

Only a couple of weeks ago, he was telling me that I knew everything about the whole world

and that I was so cleverer because I have read so many books.

He earnestly subscribed to 'The World According To Mum'.

I fear a shift.

Mrs S and her 9 days are giving my 4 and a half years a bit of a nudge already.

So, I'm sorry parents.

If it's any consolation - what goes around is certainly coming around.

Shar :-)

Timeline Of A Valentine...

I feel that we're giving 'The Notebook' a run for it's money in the romance stakes around here at the moment.
I mean I barely manage any sleep at all with all the shenanigans going on, wink wink nudge nudge,  and my start to Valentine's Day was a classic example.

12.30am
Uughhh. Razor blades in my throat, thumping headache - and what is that chainsaw ringing in my ears??
Oh -  it's just Hubby snoring.
Shove Hubby.
Toss, turn, try not to cough.
Eventually doze off.

3.00am
Hear baby girl squealing and rolling around in her cot.
Go and check that she's not lodged a limb and try to ignore her ruckus.

3.49am
Curse dog for barking.
Hear Missi Moo start up again.
Wonder why she has started waking in the night/early morn again.
Pray she doesn't wake her poor, exhausted school boy brother.
Start thinking about how much I don't want to leave my baby girl to go off to work on Friday, guaranteeing no further dozing on my part.

4.15am
Curse dog for barking again.
Say something nasty about the neighbour's cat.
Hear Hubby get up and prepare to leave for his paddling session.
Consider giving him a small gift I had bought him but roll over and cover my head instead.
He'd just get cranky if he hasn't realised that it's that commercialised rubbish day that we women claim not to give a hoot about.

4.30am
Hubby departs.
Dog goes mental.
Missi cries.
Mummy swears  - again.

5.00am
I silently lie in bed, wide awake, wondering if the exercise bike would wake the kids.
Try to doze instead.

5.15am
Nuh. Not a chance.
Give up and log in to Facebook, read some blogs.

Think about how one day I won't be too afraid to shower, flush the toilet, boil the kettle, breathe... for fear of waking the children. And I'll miss these days. Right?

Do the math and hope that Missi can sleep until 6.30am for the first time this week so that I don't have to put her down for a nap only to wake her 30 mins later for Magoo's school drop off.

Read this post by Mrs Woog and instantly feel better about being a tad overwhelmed this week.
Am soooo excited for Lou, Jake, Sunny and Scout as they share their baby BOY news today.

5.30am
Decide I can be a stealth bike rider after all.
Hear Missi squealing again before I can begin.
Kiss goodbye to my 6.30 dream.
Ignore her.

Start riding.
Ignore her some more.

5.45am
Give in and get little MIssi up.

Feed the baby.
Stupidy cancel a cuppa with friends because it all seems too hard today afte a sleepless week.
Inhale a piece of toast.

Make Magoo's breakfast.
Put a load of washing on.
Make the beds.
Defrost meat for dinner.
Play with Missi.
Prep schoolbag for Magoo and swimming bag for Missi and I.
Make Magoo's lunch.

Dress Missi.
Fix up Magoo's uniform.
Tell him how utterly adorable he looks - but wonder how he managed to stain that costs-a-fortune school top already.

Stubbornly refuse to put Missi down for a nap.
Get showered and dressed.
Try to entertain the whinging bub between chores.
Make Magoo a second breakfast.
Hang out washing.
Feed dog.
Remember that the mortgage is due today.
Check the financial situation at westpac.com and try not to cry about being broke.com.
Realise that I haven't been paid and wonder if I have been fired. Think that at least my issue with leaving Missi would be resolved.

Wonder how to keep Missi awake until it's time to go.

Utilise the outdoor swing and big brother combo.
Give Missi her bottle - falsely leading her to believe that I am kindly letting her go to bed.

8.15am
Leave early for school in the hope that a change of scenery will perk the bubby up.

8.45am
Smell something rather offensive and realise it's coming from the sweet little Miss on my hip.
Hope like hell it's not actually on my hip.
Follow Magoo around the room as he seems determined to share his sister's 'perfume' with everyone in the class.

9.00am
Leave the school, allowing everyone to breathe deeply again.

9.05am
Look in the rear vision mirror to see that Missi has fallen asleep.

9.06am
Wake the poor love because we are home - and she is sitting in, you know.
Feed her and put her to bed.

9.55am
While running through my list of tasks, I hear MIssi, after only 30 mins of slumber, letting me know that if I am going to 'stretch her out' so spectacularly, then she will do some 'stretching out' of her own - on my sanity.

Decide that she won't mind if I sit and attempt 10 mins of work prep in the hope that she resettles - and write this therapeutic dribble instead.

Receive a 'love you' text from Hubby.
Press publish here anyway!

Are you bored witless yet????
Happy Valentines Day.

Romance is well and truly alive.
And we've barely begun!

Shar :-)

P.S.
Seriously - it is a load of commercialised rubbish.
And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here today.
Mostly. :-)

Heroes Fall

Lots of things 'exposed' in the media sadden me.
Last week alone I felt empathy for a working Mum and her 'fag scandal', for local accident victims and their families, for survivors against all odds, for mothers held up for scrutiny in the public eye, for winners, for losers, for people forced to rebuild their lives over and over... and on and on and on...

But I'm running on empty in the empathy department when it comes to the current storm over drugs in sport.
It makes me feel a tad sick actually.
I feel sadness when I think about these athletes abusing their bodies and the system - but I also feel cheated too.
Like every kid who has idolised a sports star or every person who aspires to have the determination, commitment and discipline that we believe these supreme athletes to possess, I feel duped.

It's reminiscent of that moment when you realise that your Dad is in fact an actual human being who makes mistakes, who doesn't actually know absolutely everything about everything and sometimes just can't 'fix it'.

Here in the West, it's no secret that many of our sports 'stars' live 'colourful' personal lives and are definitely far from squeaky clean.

I recall seeing many of our sports 'personalities' out and about in the wee hours - during season - obviously engaging in, um, shady pursuits!

I've known of many athletes' connections to drugs, gangs and crime.

The 'hero' culture that exists over here has contributed greatly to the problem.
These guys or girls are elevated to superstar status, plied with money, celebrity, connections and sponsorships - and then often left to their own devices.

There's the argument that it's not an athlete's responsibility to be a role model for my child - that's my job.

And I agree.
But, mate, if you are being paid a very generous salary to hone your god given talent, value your health and respect your body in order to perform 'on field' - then I find it difficult to feel sorry for you when you fail to do so deliberately and spectacularly.

There's also the argument (a'la Lance) that drug use is so widespread that it would be a serious disadvantage to your performance and results if you didn't follow suit.

Ppphhffff!!!
"Everyone else did it!"
We don't accept such excuses from our children, so why should that be a valid defense for grown adults?

For me, the idea of sport is synonymous with health, fitness, participation, goal setting, camaraderie, dedication, valuable life skills...

Positive ideals.
Values I would want to instill in my children and students.

The reality of professional sport seems to be a different game altogether.

I (mistakenly?) thought that sports science was about getting the absolute best out of our bodies - naturally.

So, I'm watching the saga unfold now with trepidation.
A bit like car crash media - I don't want to look, but I can't help myself.
I don't want to know how far this will go - but I'm curious too.

I feel for the genuine, honest sportspeople who will have to defend their conduct.
I feel for the families of those 'exposed'.

I feel for the fans who are about to watch their heroes come crashing down off that pedestal.

I feel for Ben Cousins (and those arms of his) because he had to fall from grace all alone - there's some comfort in numbers! :-)

I wonder if I could get someone to investigate that chick who beat me in the Perth Marathon while they're at it?

Any thoughts?

Am I truly loopy for believing that sport should be 'clean'??

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Park Life

Some of my favourite little people...

chasing bubbles in the sun

 and rolling in the grass.

As if they haven't a care in the world...

because they don't.

 And I couldn't forget you, Missi Moo!!

Hope you had a 'frolicking' good weekend.

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot.

(And just a tad excited for her big news this week!)

Shar :-)