busyness as usual

Port Douglas - a great place for a birthday...



my brown-eyed girl



the pool maketh the holiday



travelling in style



Gorgeous (Mossman) Gorge

We could fit him in our backyard, couldn't we Mum?

"OMG Emily, you won't believe it, I just saw that guy off Neighbours...."

Enjoying the marquee

they scrub up pretty well...

Where to start? It’s certainly not for a lack of news to report that this blog is so sadly neglected, rather a surfeit. It’s a busy Jennings life, but fortunately almost entirely good busyness, so no complaints here.

So how about a dot pointed executive summary? The pictures tell most of the story anyway, don't they?

· a gorgeous balmy September holiday in Port Douglas, filled with pools, beach, visits to lush Mossman Gorge, the amazing reef, an entertaining crocodile farm, a stunning skyrail ride through the mountains, not to mention some scrumptious buffet breakfasts where the girls had to laugh at the huge pleasure their mother derived from made-to-order-in-front-of-my-eyes omlettes – what’s not to get excited about – just what I wanted and I didn’t have to make it/clean up after it! Happy happy days with my very favourite people, so relaxed and fun.

· A new part-time job for me, writing creative training materials (and from home – yay!) Earlier this year, the very creation of this blog was partially an attempt to get writing back into my life, after too-long a hiatus. I could never have picked that life would lead me back to paid writing again, I love it. It has also created a beautiful life balance for me – teaching in the morning (sociable, fun, rewarding), writing in the afternoons (thankfully sedentary, creative) and Mum/taxi after school (fun, being involved, present and enabling a full life for the girls). Andrew had a laugh at my first project – writing a Personal Financial Management training program for VFL footballers! Loads of fun coming up with non-boring sessions like investment competitions and games, rather than arid slabs of financial jargon.

· Amy’s unlucky break when a thoughtless child threw a plank of wood in her path as she scootered down our street. She swerved sharply, lost control and badly fractured her wrist. Stoic as they came, not a tear was shed, from the spill through 9 hours of multiple hospital/emergency/radiology/ct scans/consultants/local anaesthetics/crunching it back into place/remanipulation and replastering a week later – whew. She amazed even the hospital staff with her pain tolerance and calm (yes, calmer than her mother). Much discussion about plates and pins, but she has avoided that for now. She will need xrays of her wrist every 6 months until she stops growing as the break went through the growth plate in her wrist. It’s been a huge frustration for my active girl who has badly missed school cricket, netball, horse-riding, piano etc and most of the (water-based) fun at school camp. We’ll keep our fingers crossed everything grows in the right direction in the future.

· Sophie starting Aikido classes (Amy is in a holding pattern and will join her next year). She cannot wait to earn her uniform and first belt and loves to come home and try our her moves on her pretty unwilling family members!

· Kate joining the school jazz band playing the trombone and enjoying playing Tequila and Tuxedo Junction just like her mother did a generation ago (some things, like good ole jazz standards and school bands, never change).

· Excuse one little maternal boast (sorry!) Kate and Amy both won netball awards this season – Kate for magically turning herself from a defender into a goaler in one season - height works at both ends of the court ;) - and Amy’s 2nd award of the year, this one for the extra commitment of continuing to go to practice plaster and all, working as the coach’s assistant and umpiring while she couldn’t play.

· Well, that’s the highlights, rounded out nicely with a mélange of spring races (see pics - can you believe that leggy young woman chatting on her mobile is my 13yo?? - oh, and look at my poor wounded equine-mad Amy looking wistfully at all those horses, she'll be back in the saddle herself next year and really what can I say about that cowboy hat except well, it's very Sophie and her sisters nearly killed Andrew and I for letting her wear it LOL), weddings, birthdays, school fetes, concerts, presentations and of course, now Christmas gatherings of all shapes and sizes. If I don’t get back here before Christmas (I'm well-meaning but realistic) – I hope everyone I’ve enjoyed chatting with in blogland has a warm, happy time enjoying their lucky lives and loves. xxxxx

Celebearating with Amy

So busy belatedly waxing lyrical about my pintsized birthday girl, that I completely neglected to mention her birthday festivities. Lover of all things furry, she was so excited about her Build-a-Bear party. Build-a-Bear workshops let kids select their own bear, stuff it (including its heart), brush it, name it, dress it etc - it's a whole business and don't little girls just love it. Love Amy's funky dude dog. Oh, and there was even bell ringing for the birthday girl - and see the friend standing on Amy's left when she's ringing the bell? she is YOUNGER than Amy!

Being a mid-afternoon affair, catering was oh-so-easy. Amy requested her favourite trampoline icecream scooped on top of Krispy Kreme donuts - turning them into yummy donut sundaes, so apart from her castle cake, all I had to do was hunt and gather the aforementioned delicacies and present them to the appreciative horde of hungry girls.
Happy birthday my sweet
love Mum
xxxxx

Heroes come in small packages

How did we get to here so quickly?



Just minutes ago.....


















It would be cliché indeed to make a fuss of my baby’s birthday; write a glowing tribute to the tumultuous teen and then struggle to find time to celebrate my darling in between girl. Way to help nurture a case of middle child syndrome ;)

Belated happy birthday greetings to Miss Amy - our dog-whisperer and rescuer; my darling Queen of Spots; the anti-girly-girl; sports junkie; fussy-little-sh…; "most determined on the netball court 2008"; horse-canterer; - my small-statured but big spirited hero and the one who conjures up my very fiercest mother-tiger instinct. Flanked by her boisterous sisters of Amazonian proportions on either side, Amy has always had an instinct for choosing not to compete, but instead carving out her own niche, her own path.

By the tender age of 2 1/2 , she was able to take a good look at her older sister (who was stereotypically pink personified at the time) and set her sights at the opposite end of the spectrum. She simply WAS Woody the Cowboy from Toy Story for about 18 months after that. It all started when she rejected Kate’s fairy costume for a party coming up with a “but I want to be a cowboy Mummy”. When I replied “ok, I can find a cowgirl costume for you”, I was gobsmacked at her utter disgust – how is a toddler capable of such derision?! “NOT a cowgirl Mum – a cowboy, Woody the Cowboy” and that costume was in one of 3 places from them on – on her back, in the washing machine or on the drying rack with my little blonde cowboy checking on it hopefully every 20 minutes or so…

Her passions turned to superheroes by the time she reached 4/5 – batman, spiderman etc with a concurrent fondness for dinosaurs on the side. I remember making her a castle birthday cake with superheroes perched all over and dinosaurs in the moat. I will never forget her rapt expression when she saw it, she was in heaven! I had always done the preparatory party chat with her – “if someone gives you a Barbie or a girly present, it’s important to be polite and say thank you because they did their best. Not everyone knows you and what you like”. She opened a present from a friend and came hurtling excitedly towards me across the room, yelling at the top of her voice “LOOK MUM – Imogen REALLY knows me, she REALLY knows me!” with a beloved pair of spiderman pjs in her hand.

Kate has been carving out a nice line in Daddy’s girl for the last few years, specialising in attending AFL matches (go Tiges!) and cricket games and cuddling up on the couch to watch everything from NBA basketball to soccer and rugby – gorgeous to see. Amy is so instinctively clever – true to her nature, she doesn’t compete or try to crash that party for two. Instead she has laid claim to the title of Playstation 2 buddy, carefully selecting games for Daddy’s birthday for the two of them to share and master together. And instead of spectating football and cricket, she chooses to head on down to the local park at the weekend with Andrew and hit the nets or have a kick themselves. It’s like an unconscious custody arrangement that works very well.

One of the best things we ever did for Amy (and she waited patiently for years for me to be well enough to do so) was to adopt her darling, her beloved, her childhood soulmate Lucky from the RSPCA. If Sophie is Amy’s occasional, easygoing whipping girl and outlet for venting anger, then Lucky is certainly her outlet for love, passion and affection. We all love Lucky, but he has always been and will always be, hers. And to underscore the relationship, she almost immediately married him – very seriously - and even now, at the much more grown up age of 11, she publicly speaks about him as her husband to her friends. She has patience beyond her years to teach him to beg, walk on his hind legs, jump through hoops etc. Another entrepreneur like her older sister, she has already started working on her dog-walking business, recruiting neighbours with savvy marketing strategies and a genuine love for all things canine.

Amy’s a perfectionist, is way too hard on herself, despite being very deliberately parented in an easy-going style. She is shy outside her comfort zone, is a deep thinker (and worrier), yet has a madcap sense of humour too. She is a true snuggle-bunny and incredibly, at the age of 11, I can still comfortably sit her on my hip while chatting. She loves having secret things in common with me that her sisters don’t share – from both being left-handed to having the same chameleon eye colour. She’s good at many things, but socialising does not come naturally to her. She has always been one to appear out of her bedroom at 10.30pm at night to ask me in a trembling voice “where will I live when I’m a grownup?” or “what will happen to Daddy if he can’t stop smoking?” and break my heart just a little. I’m teaching her to challenge her catastrophising negative thoughts and she knows she will always be heard and understood. We work hard together to take the steps that can be so effortless for siblings and peers and so big for her little feet. She is buried so deeply in my heart, it’s the fiercest bond I can imagine and I have to make myself fight the instinct to protect her from the world. She is my angel bear and my hero because as I remind her, it’s easy to do things if you’re not scared, but if you’re scared and you do things anyway, you are the bravest, biggest person I know.

And she is.


Love to Mrs Lucky on her 11th birthday


xxxxx

Feeding time at the zoo

And no, I’m not talking literally about our house for a change…

The school holiday program at the Melbourne Zoo “totally rocks”, according to some very happy Zoo Detectives of mine. Despite a wild, cold day, the Jennings girls and gorgeous, but camera shy Tom Fewster headed off bright and early to detect their way around the zoo. Please excuse the amateur photos, with some trepidation I gave custody of my camera to the girls for the day and remember, they’re just kids, not gifted photographers ;) If they had their way, this blog would have 50+ slightly unfocused and honestly, rather boring shots of sedentary animals and plants LOL

The undoubted highlight of the day was a spectacular behind-the-scenes experience - getting to handfeed the giraffes, from inside the back of the enclosure – seriously! Now, there’s something different to write in your first day back “what I did in the holidays” essay. And just to show what a fabulously educational blog this is, did you know that giraffe’s tongues are 40 cm long? “More than a ruler Mum!” And they have 7 bones in their necks – “the same as humans, but longer of course Mum”. Amy got a little lion toy for being a good helper for - get this - sorting stick insect eggs – as you do. Apparently they are often deliberately laid in ant nests as they look like ant eggs, so the ants get fooled and look after them, clever little things. The things your kids learn, every day …..

It’s been a week of critters for us. As well as the event-filled afternoon rescuing Tiger the puppy (see previous post), I also had the experience of arriving at the school gate to pick up Amy and Sophie on the last day of term, to be greeted with a joyous “SUR-PRI-ISE”. A surprise that comprised custody of several class yabbies in a large fish tank for the school holidays – a surprise that was met with an ever-so-slightly forced smile on my part. In addition to a bit of an “ick” factor (they’re not exactly cute and cuddly pets and I’m a more traditional dogs and cats lover rather than a rodents and reptiles kind of gal), I had an immediate flashback to when I was a kid and we killed the kinder budgie on our weekend visit. Actually that really should read – the kinder budgie died while at our house – we didn’t actually torture it or anything, but oh the shame, it has clearly stayed with me in a post-traumatic syndrome kind of way. Do you think it didn’t like us and committed suicide???

I did manage to bail on looking after last year’s class mice (by the way, whatever happened to a nice simple class fish??) after having to put up with the smell each day in the classroom and being completely grossed out by the tale of what happened when one of the mice happened to have a litter of babies one weekend and then proceeded to eat the lot of ‘em! UGH just doesn’t do that justice at all…..

Anyway, please send good yabbie vibes our way for the next two weeks as I’m sure I could never face Amy’s teacher again if we didn’t keep her beloved crustaceans healthy. And I, for one, am sticking to dogs – nothing exotic or slimy around here!

And a quick link especially for Tom's Mum - the lovely and erudite Kate Fewster (who I'm sure wears the "bad grammar makes me [sic]" badge I gave her with pride):

http://www.apostrophe.fsnet.co.uk/

http://www.apostrophepolice.org/mission


Its vital that you enlist, Constable Fewster and keep all of blogland safe from those apostrophe criminal's .....

Overheard.....

sex education: 10-year-old-big-sis-to-9-year-old-lil-sis style

9yo: "So can you go for a swim when you have a period?"

10yo: "No way - of course not! "

9yo "Why not?"

10yo "Because a shark would get you, wouldn't it?"

9yo: "Ohhh, ok" (files that little gem away)

well, der...

FOUND

We are the Jenningsgirls dog rescue team with a great reputation for protecting the canine lost and helpless and reuniting them with their loved ones. Amy can sniff out a lost puppy a mile away and won’t rest til we’ve saved it.

A few months ago I walked our dog Lucky to school on a sunny afternoon to pick the girls up. We wandered around the outskirts of the local park on our way home, throwing sticks for our obsessive-retriever until Amy spotted an unsupervised little terrier. “He has no owner Mum” – “I’m sure his owner is around here somewhere sweetheart” – “no, he doesn’t belong to anyone, we can’t just leave him here” – “sigh”.

So after sending Amy to ask any likely suspects about ownership with no success, I did have to reluctantly admit that this dog looked like he’d gone AWOL. Fortunately he had a mobile phone number on his tag and I had my phone in my pocket and moments later I was speaking to his surprised owner who was 20 minutes drive away at work – he was an escapee! I offered to drop him off on our walk home only to find that she lived further up the street from us, so in the end Kubrick came home with us to have a playdate with Lucky until our neighbour came home from work.

Amy has stopped another neighbour’s dog Luigi from being accidentally run when he got out (there are clearly armies of North Fitzroy dogs tunneling away merrily each day) and today we saved the adorable Tiger. She is just the sweetest puppy, scampering down the middle of the road all on her lonesome this afternoon - thank goodness she hadn't been hit by a car. I called out "puppy, puppy, puppy" to her and she just leapt into my arms and snuggled in, trembling, poor little thing.

So we scooped her up and tried to find her owner, but to no avail. Went to the local vet to find that she had no microchip, they wanted to take her to the animal shelter, but the look on the girls’ faces - oh no! We couldn’t give her up without trying for a reunion and said we planned to doorknock first – she brought out the protective instinct in all of us. LOL

We doorknocked a little, then decided to try again after 5.30pm as I figured her owner was probably at work (no convenient phone number on the tag this time). The girls just cooed over her happily while I worked on a FOUND poster (with the photos above) until a knock at the door revealed her frantic owner who had been directed to our house by someone we'd spoken to – she was wildly grateful and relieved as it was her sister’s dog who had dug its way out while she’d been at work. We were all sad to see her go – she had burrowed straight into all our hearts, but she’s another dog we can proudly add to our SAVED list! (Oh and just to show what equal animal opportunity rescuers we are, we also saved our neighbour's cat Oomi from what Amy called "the bully cat" who was beating it up thoroughly.)


Thanks for the great suggestions for a holiday song to send out into the universe with hope, but this is my fave oldie-but-goodie on the topic. Love vintage Madonna - her style, her choreography (kind of a groovy aerobics routine) and maybe that she looks like she's really enjoying herself - long before she was British Madge with the wincingly cut biceps, leotards, botox etc. Or maybe I just feel so affectionate because this was from when I was just a teenager, taping my favourite songs off local radio 3BA in the days when the dinosaurs roamed the earth... ;) Imeem is down for maintenance at the moment, so here's the youtube video clip in the meantime. And it is the last day of term today (YAY), so v. appropriate...

it's a whine-win situation

As a number of friends can testify, I have a kind of space-cadet, looney-tunes, new-age-esque hodge podge of a belief system. I don’t believe the number of fateful coincidences, precursors, apparent messages and kismet that life serves up is entirely random. I believe we send energy, karma, messages out into the universe and it invariably responds if we’re listening. I believe messages and opportunities are placed under our noses and it’s up to us whether we’re ready to receive. I guess I simply believe in method in the madness. But I’m probably just talking madness LOL

Ahem, the point of all that Sue? Well, I am trying to remember to change my blog music on an at least monthly basis in the hope that this doesn’t become of those annoying blogs where you have to remember to turn the volume off before you visit ;) So after a blog desert and a fertile little big life in the month of May, Emmy Rossum’s “Slow me down" seemed an appropriate accompaniment to this mad juggling act of mine. Out into the universe I sent the sentiment:

Rushing and racing
and running in circles
Moving so fast, I'm forgetting my purpose
Blur of the traffic is sending me spinning
Getting nowhere

My head and my heart are colliding, chaotic
Pace of the world
I just wish I could stop it
Try to appear like I've got it together
I'm falling apart

Save me
Somebody take my hand, and lead me
Slow me down
Don't let love pass me by
Just show me how
'Cause I'm ready to fall
Slow me down
Don't let me live a lie
Before my life flies by
I need you to slow me down

Less than 48 hours later, the universe answered, in digital forum naturally – an email:

Subject: SUSSAN - Congratulations you have won!

Dear Sue,

You have won a relaxation package from Sussan.

You have won:
1 x Sussan Organic Lounge Outfit consisting of pants, jacket & top
valued at $124.95
1 x Massage Voucher valued $100
1 x 3 month Fernwood Gym membership

:-O I never win anything! And thanks Emmy. Now I have just two questions – is the universe telling me to get fit? And does anyone know a song about a holiday in Tahiti I can put on my blog?

Thirteen years ago

Now...



Then ...











The day the universe expanded, exploded - in direct proportion with my heart. The day my life changed – a quantum leap, paradigm shift, transforming the very landscape of my path, the person I would be – changed so completely, so quickly, so utterly, so unrecognisably. From high-flying, ambitious corporate workhorse to stunningly contented SAHM, it was a reincarnation that surprised pretty much everyone, including myself.

The day Kate blazed into this world. I had no idea how hard I would fall for this divine, squalling creature we created. What a gift she is.

So let me introduce my darling big little girl Kate. Please understand that this post is going to be completely self-indulgent and dripping with sentiment. If this is likely to have a nauseating effect, please feel free to pass on by and return on a day when I’m feeling more acerbic or silly ;) I would just like to record all of this before it evaporates into the ether/falls out of the sieve that is my head….

Katie kitten is the quintessential big sister to the world. She even big sisters me on occasion, especially since she started towering over me. If Andrew and I are not around, Amy and Sophie will turn to her to make everything better – and she does. She has a gorgeous, generous soul with just the faintest streak of hormonal tween bitch LOL In fact, the occasional flashes of hormonal attitude in such an easygoing daughter put the fear of her sisters reaching adolescence into my heart! There is part of me that secretly respects the way she challenges me, that somehow she is metamorphosising from a compliant child into a woman with her own mind – that suddenly I have this wonderful, complicated, fiery, opinionated other woman in our house.

So yes she does have legs that go forever and come in handy on the netball court – I’m proud that she doesn’t stoop, she walks tall, owning her space in the world. Life is about people – friends, family are what make her world go round. She wants to try everything, is impossibly self-possessed and takes such enjoyment out of life. She has hit the ground running (actually she was so impatient she tried to head on out of the womb 8 weeks early, giving us all a scare, but I put up a fight to keep her a little longer and held on til 38 weeks when she insisted on greeting the world). Not much has changed, she has always taken every single step further into the world at full-tilt, at a run, eagerly embracing each new friend, each new experience. I am always so glad that she does everything first, scales every new mountain, starts every new chapter – she makes it so stressfree. She has effortlessly moved this year from a primary school that she could walk to in less than 5 minutes to a secondary school which she needs to take a train and then a tram to get to. She loves it – both the independence and of course, the inevitable mobile phone LOL I love her school uniform after 7 years of none at her primary school!

She came home from her very first day at high school talking animatedly about a term-long alpine residential camp which nearly made her mother’s head explode. It’s not til year nine, but she was ready to go on the first day. Next it was the school trip to France which she’d love to do this year but which has been vetoed til she a) speaks more than half a dozen words of French and b) gets a part-time job to contribute ;) Which really won’t be a problem as she’s lined up at least 3 jobs at the tender age of 12, the little A-type that she is. We are trying to stall friends with babies and toddlers and wanting her to babysit to “wait til she at least turns 14”! Lil ones just adore her, it’s no wonder she’s in demand already. Not to mention how oh-so-comfortable she is already behind the register or pricing gun at her beloved Kate Fewster’s shop, Little Smarties (see link on the left).

She told me she wanted a bank account at the age of 9 and started saving. What for, I asked and she airily explained she was saving for her apartment (a beloved babysitter was moving out of home into an apartment at the time). When I asked when she was moving out, she declared “12,” and when I explained that most 12 year olds didn’t have their own apartments, she decided she could wait til she was 15 LOL I will never have to worry about this child/woman. She is going to make magic happen in her own life, the sky is the limit and I’m pretty sure that’s where she’s aimed herself.

She loves a sleep-in, has only two speeds, full steam ahead or sloth. She can argue til she’s blue in the face and even in the face of complete wrongedness, can achieve an impressive level of articulate denial. She already ties up the bathroom for half an hour at a time. Bald for more than 18 months, I despaired as friends played with ribbons and pigtails – of course she grew an impressive mane of blond curls that were certainly worth waiting for, christened “Kate with the Bubble Hair” at kinder. She looks so very much like her Dad if you can get past that cloud of curls and even my mother said so the day she was born. She loves clothes (what a huge surprise!), wants to be a children’s fashion designer and stylist who coaches netball on the side when she grows up.

I truly don’t know what I’d do without her, I rely on her so much with Andrew away regularly and with a few physical challenges myself. I’d say we are so very alike, except it’s like she’s really a new, improved version with extra features, new technology, stronger, better, louder, faster, taller LOL She is a kindred spirit, I am already starting to enjoy books, music, cooking, girlie shopping trips and chick flicks with her.

So this is thirteen. Happiest of happy days my big little girl

Love love love
Mum
xxxxx

and the festival of Kate continues…..

She’s in sleepover heaven at this very moment, with her BFFs, a couple of chick flicks, tv and dvd player IN HER BEDROOM no less! (don’t get used to it Kate, it’s going back to the playroom tomorrow).

They had dinner out at the roolly noice local pizza restaurant on their own (no younger sisters allowed), called the Mum taxi (which handily also pays for dinner), then back home for the homemade mutant chocolate covered icecream creation (ice cream and melted chocolate are natural enemies – the hot chocolate melts the ice cream, the ice cream warms the chocolate back to solid too quickly – hard to work with, but hilarious and most importantly, YUM). They are still giggling away happily, all is well in tween world.

And no, she’s not actually 13 yet – roll on Monday LOL

Appliance failure is the mother of innovation…

… not to mention the easy peasy cheese(y)cake

This recipe (dedicated to the very patient Stompergirl) has been roadtested by not only my personal team of three little taste-testers (who love to check that my cooking isn’t “poisonous” LOL), but also by the staff at the school where I work and by a number of bloggers and friends who hit town recently and caught up at Little Smarties (FAB children’s clothing shop in Kew, see link on the left). Gotta love a combo of shopping, friends, champagne and cheesecake :)

It is just ridiculously easy and doesn’t even require the use of an oven. This is because just before I needed to provide the aforementioned morning tea, my oven died and my dreams of making a sampler of bitesized cheesecake portions shattered. A quick google search for “recipe cheesecake no bake” later, I threw together a couple of different results (using the added melted chocolate from one, the shortbread base from another etc) and created this now treasured addition to my repertoire. Of course, the oven was resurrected in time for morning tea, so I added some baked cheesecakes to the platter as well – variations on a theme kind of thing. But really, from now on, will I bother to bake?

So, take a packet of shortbread biscuits, put in a freezer bag, crush with rolling pin and add about 50g of melted butter and mix together. Press into tin (baking paper/sprayed/buttered/greased) - or if you’re into all things mini like me, put into individual patty pans - and refrigerate. Take a 250g pkt of cream cheese, leave it out of the fridge for a while til it’s soft, add a couple of tablespoons of lemon juice and mix. Add a couple of teaspoons of vanilla essence, a can of sweetened condensed milk and 100g of melted white chocolate and beat for about a minute, seriously, that's about all it needs. Pour on top of shortbread base. Refrigerate for a couple of hours. Tada! Yes, truly, that’s it.

You can fiddle around with it too – I’ve done these with strawberry puree (squishing fresh strawberries through a sieve and adding a little icing sugar), then pouring a little on top of the cheesecake and swishing around with a toothpick to make pretty patterns. I also did them with melted Lindt dark chocolate with orange filling – yum! Of course you can put a raspberry or strawberry or grated flake on top etc, etc etc – it’s all good or, as Sophie would say, “scrumalicious”. Oh, and when you have too much cheesecake filling, you can just grab some good ole Marie biscuits and create cheesecake sandwiches for the kids’ playlunches which is a v. popular move, I must say.....

Drawing the line with the Queen of Teen

Mmm, after writing that post title, I can think of a whole ‘nuther way this post could go, as any Mum of a 12-going-on-16-yo could understand. But no, this is about drawing a party line in the sand. I have survived the birthday party circuit for all my girls each year and there needs to be an end in sight because how else will Sophie ever catch up to Kate? And I don’t ever want to be organising one of those late-teenage parties you hear about with security guards or necessitating calls to the police, so I think that the start of secondary school is the perfect line drawing year.

Of course, the blow has been softened with a small sleepover and control freak that I am, I even managed to hand over invitation making duties to my near-teen (17 days she tells me – do you remember being that excited about your next birthday that you knew exactly how many days???). And this is what she came up with – aren’t they simply gorgeous and oh-so-grown-up?

I put them on our sideboard to photograph right next to a pile of photos, including Princess Kate, circa 2000, so I added her to the pic because it is near impossible for me to get an acquiescent photo of her these days, she’s worse than a toddler LOL I have been attempting to capture her winter school uniform (complete with tie no less) and the pics above show just how co-operative she is feeling atm. It’s the same thing with her hair – she has this great mane of dark blond curls and ringlets that is truly spectacular out and she knows I love it that way , so she hides it away in drab braids, buns and ponytails simply to annoy me, I’m sure! I need to start using reverse psychology I think.

How can I possibly be grown-up enough to have a teenager daughter…..

Mayday, mayday.....

Pic of my darling Sophie’s Mother’s Day card, bless her.


Inspired by my Mothers' Day present (see below)

Can’t believe this whole month is passing me by with a whirlwind/explosion/rollercoaster of life that is big enough that I apparently don’t have time to sit back and reflect on it… Just a mad exhausting happy flurry of champagne, work, kids, taxi-ing, socialising, writing for money (woohoo!), seminars, dinners, family, cooking, parties...

So a very belated Happy Mothers' Day to all the fabulous mothers out there that I am so happy to call my friends, don’t know what I’d do without you – one of the happier surprises of becoming a mother is discovering the sisterhood of generosity and empathy that we share. In that spirit, want to share a couple of thoughts from a sweet little book I was given for Mother’s Day by Susannah Mac. It’s called

“You’re a Fabulous Mum
(despite the stale bread, unmade beds and guilty thoughts in your head)”

– yes, definitely my kind of parenting ;)

Firstly a couple of helpful definitions:

Guilt
Consciousness of wrongdoing

Guilt, maternal
ILLUSION of wrongdoing. Irrational, nagging conviction that you are failing your children and would be doing so much better if you were almost anyone else. Seemingly no male equivalent

Some timely reassurance:

It is not selfish to want ten minutes to read the paper without child, partner or pet lying on you.
It does not mean you do not love to distraction the above child, partner or pet.

And some real wisdom:

The joys of motherhood are never fully experienced until the children are in bed.
Author unknown

I was also spoilt with a surprise gift that I’ve been pining for/lusting after for ages - a mix master just like my Mum used to have. I remember fighting over who was going to lick the beaters with my brother and sisters. Yes, it does fall into that insidious and much maligned category of a present that makes you work, but oh, it hardly feels like work, it feels like play and delicious play at that and given that I had been handbeating things since the bamix died, it actually makes less work! Have been making lots of bits of yum ever since - have a fab easy cheesecake recipe to share when I get a moment.

Promise to be back soon with news, pics and recipes
xxxxx

dance of the non sense

Invisible cloud
Wraps you like
Cotton wool
Words drop slowly
Like soft rain
Elusive

Brain stumbling over
Unknown dance steps
Whispers of unfamilar music

A kaleidoscope of harsh colour
A crashing wall of impenetrable noise
A blur of too-fast motion
An assault of tactile overload
Knocking you off balance
You're tipping, slipping
Words really are weapons
In this war of your senses

Focus
Go back to the core
Hit ctrl+alt+del

Tessellated shapes
Constructing walls around you
Composure built brick by brick
No deadline here, no rush

Flapping, chewing, sucking, rocking
Your own dance of comfort

soothed

Quirky-go-round

I have been tagged by the lovely, quirky Kristen http://kristens-memories-dreams.blogspot.com/

These are the rules:

Link the person who tagged you
Mention the rules on your blog
Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours
Tag 6 fellow bloggers by linking them
Leave a comment on each of the tagged bloggers blogs letting them know they have been tagged.

This is my first try at tagging here and while I love the idea of a big blogland game of chasey, hope I don’t trip over my virtual shoelaces trying to make this work….. I do want to say thanks to Tanya who posted a comment to help Kristen work out how to link, I just followed your instructions :)

Just 6 of my quirks? Well, it’s a start ;)

1.

I take a paper route to happiness every Sunday and become slightly unhinged if I can’t get my “fix”. I take the Sunday newspapers (including those lovely glossy colour mag inserts) and leave the house – I don’t think it really matters where I go (usually a local café) as long as I leave all family members/noise/responsibilities behind – reading on the couch in the midst of aforementioned chaos does NOT cut it! If I miss out, I can be heard to mutter darkly on a Sunday evening that “I haven’t read my papers” and if someone is silly enough to reply that I can always read them tomorrow, I’ll likely bite their head off as it’s NOT THE POINT!

2.

While I can appear appropriately grown-up, moderately dressed and able to be relied on to make sensible decisions, there is a large part of me which is still 8 years old. I never wanted to turn nine, so part of me clearly stayed there and it only comes out to play with the girls, when I’m really over-tired, rather like a child who’s consumed a jug of red cordial. I have been known to initiate body-slamming and wrestling competitions, silly dances, songs and even break out the “psycho bum”, but only to an audience of three hysterically giggly girls who have to be sworn to secrecy afterwards ;)

3.

I am a woman of mass distraction. My poor husband despairs at the half-completed jobs, projects and great ideas that lie around our house, awaiting my attention. I have the attention span of a gnat or a goldfish these days and things fall out of my head like a sieve (yes, I am Sophie’s mother, more and more so, it appears). Andrew will walk into the kitchen to find the dishwasher open, either half-packed or half-unpacked; lunches half prepared; a sponge on the bench, half-wiped; half a load of washing hung out with the rest still languishing in the basket while I sit doing a jigsaw puzzle with the girls which most likely, we leave half-completed LOL

4.

I have a bookcase full, literally sagging under the weight of the worthy literature I want to read, but my junk-brain-food of choice for the last decade has been appalling trashy magazines. Perfectly suitable for a sleep deprived mother’s barely functioning brain, they are pickupable and equally putdownable when interrupted without the rancour involved in interrupting me in the midst of a good book – they are the equivalent of a fast food happy meal or a bitesized chocolate portion…..

5.

I am compelled to go shopping every time my husband leaves the country. I don’t know why, my only theory is that it’s some kind of unconscious reward/filling the void mechanism, but I do know from extensive mother research that I’m not the only one (you know who you are)! All I can do is attempt to channel it into legitimate and necessary purchases ;)

6.

Since a burglar walked into my bedroom and woke me up in the middle of the night 18 months ago while Andrew was working in Sydney, I am a psychotic, anxious-beyond-all-rational-thought lunatic at night when he’s away. So a night without him now involves a sophisticated alarm system activated, all doors checked at least twice before I go to bed, more glasses of red wine than is strictly necessary or advisable, several rounds of check-the-girls, the dog allowed to sleep inside, lights either on or motion activated all around the outside of the house, TWO phones beside the bed, the tv left on low in the bedroom all night (for company and a little light) and still I am likely to jump up out of bed at some point with a huge adrenalin rush, thanks to a partying possum or carousing neighbour. I am such an irrational, phobic baby.

Ok, here goes, I hope these work – I am tagging:

Carrie http://carrieyoung.typepad.com/love_laugh_live

Georgie http://itsaporterslife.blogspot.com/

Stomper Girl http://stompergirl.blogspot.com/

Trudi http://trudiswords.blogspot.com/

Kaz http://itsonlymekaz.blogspot.com/

Ali J http://aussiepatches.typepad.com/aussiepatches

Thought Full

I love blogs that are Beauty Full, but also those that are Thought Full - not considerate-thoughtful, but full-of-thought. I have been full of thought about Soozadoo’s recent post about being Frank http://soozadoo.wordpress.com/2008/04/22/frank/

I was not Frank as a child, in fact probably the opposite. I was brought up under a authoritarian parenting regime to be a nice girl, compliant, well behaved with my purpose in life being to keep everyone happy. No opinions to be voiced, no authority to be challenged – you get the picture. It takes years to undo that training – years to develop the confidence and belief that you are actually entitled to an opinion, to be difficult, to disagree without some kind of cataclysmic disaster ensuing. To really understand that in a good relationship, you can be angry without being abandoned. To take a chance on saying what you really think, instead of being appalling passive aggressive – what a relief!

I look back on my early 20s and realise that while I looked like a cute little Barbie, I had about the same amount of depth – just a walking talking doll who reflected whatever was acceptable and decorous. I had no self-esteem for if self-esteem stems from keeping everyone happy, from the sum total of your actions for that day, then it is never really safe, you can never relax. It has taken years of life experience to develop not only physical wrinkles, scars and bulges, but also a new person, Sue who has opinions, who doesn’t care so much about other people’s thoughts, who has permission to disagree with you, ever so gently and diplomatically ;) And to bring up three daughters to be as Frank as they want – even if those daughters are more challenging to parent LOL

While I respect Susannah and her forthright warrior truthfulness, I will never be that Frank. However I am working towards being authentically Sue and the satisfaction is immense, palpable.

So thanks Susannah, for making me Thought Full/an introspective, navel gazing wanker ;)
xxxxx

Holding her horses

excited but a l'il bit nervous...



up up and away :)



45 mins later - an old hand



Due to time and energy constraints, I’ve generally tried to do a 3 for 1 deal with the girls’ activities where possible – they all learn piano from the same teacher on the same afternoon and all play netball for the same club – it was either that or clone myself… But every now and then one falls hard, passionately and individually as is the case with Amy and horses.

She recently worked a couple of mornings at the Collingwood Children’s Farm http://www.farm.org.au/ through their school holiday program which entitled her to riding lessons in the afternoons. She came home bursting with enthusiasm and horsey love and sat down to write her Dad - in Paris buying fugly caps ;) - a 22 line email saying “it was the very best experience of my entire life”. Head over heels, she would be smuggling a horse home if we had more than the obligatory inner suburban postage stamp sized court yard. Just seems to me that if you feel that strongly about something, it should probably be something you get to do more than once.

A little investigation, a friend's recommendation and off we went to Peppercorn Equestrian Centre for her first lesson this afternoon and such perfect, quitessentially Melbourne autumn weather for it too. Amy learned how to brush Robbie the pony, put on the saddle etc, weave around cones, halt, gee-up and all those other technical terms – of course she’s now completely hooked and apparently we need to go visit “Horseland” (which sounds like we should be climbing the Magic Faraway Tree to get to) for boots, jodpurs and helmet. And yes, I am aware that I'm getting ridiculous amounts of vicarious pleasure out of this? Just luvving it all – the horsey childhood I always pined for myself ;) I’m still in shock that she could make the horse go in the direction she wanted him to!