bubble and squeak.
Words can’t describe how many times a day this child throws me. Although she’s been around in full force for five years now, you’re never quite ready for her. That’s how she likes it. She strikes when you’re at your most vulnerable. Sort of like a cobra. Or some other sneaky predator. Aneeway…
The things she says and the looks she gives could fill a book (or a blog in this case) and I can never remember every one but this one I think will always stand out. A defining moment where she very nearly beat mummy at her own game. If Cassidy kept a diary, this day’s entry would be something like, “Took on mummy. Made significant progress. Shock value significant due to perfectly executed element of suprise. Only minor tweaks need to be made for subsequent encounters”.
It went like this.
Cassidy: Mummy, would you like a mint? (We have a gumball dispenser in the studio filled with Kool Mints).
Me: No thanks Cass, I’m fine. Thank you for offering.
Just enough time later for the following to make impact…
Me: Cassidy, would you get mummy a mint please?
Cassidy: (already thinking ‘I’ve got her now’) But I asked you before and you said you didn’t want one.
Me: Well I didn’t want one before but now I do.
Cassidy: (the mask of eye-lash fluttering sweetness concealing her true intentions for world domination) Oh….so that’s like when you ask me to do a wee before we go to the shops and I say I don’t need to do a wee but then we get to the shops and I do need to do one then and you are cranky. Is it like that mummy?
Me: ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
I think I mumbled something then about “no it’s not like that because I’m the mummy” or words to that effect but they faded into insignificance as she skipped off to the playroom, no doubt to congratulate herself on a job well done.
Steve said the other day it will have to be an arranged marriage so the poor bloke doesn’t get to meet her first.
a new toy for mummy.
Can you guess what it was? 
Steve and I have been in desperate need of a good happy snap camera for a while now. After recent days out at waterparks we decided a waterproof one would be just the ticket. Rather un-romantically, we bought one, said “Merry Christmas babe” and have started using it already. Works for us!
Such a weird feeling…holding a camera in your hands and going under the water! Took me a good five minutes of inward self-help talk to make myself do it (“It’s an underwater camera you fool!! Go under, damn it! What’s wrong with you!!!”). It was so much fun..and the kids thought it was hilarious. Mr. I-Don’t-Do-Photos even got into it and was whipping out all sorts of poses, as well as taking some of me.
I had no idea what I was doing and managed to take all the photos on some dodgy low res setting. However, I’m proud to say I’m slightly up on the woman the man in the camera shop told me about who opened the camera to remove the memory card – whilst still submerged in the pool. Then came back to complain the camera didn’t work. Hmmm.
wake. kids. work. shop. sleep. repeat.
That’s pretty much how we’ve rolled for the past couple of weeks. I know every family is the same – the fun but endless array of school and kindy concerts, end of year parties and get to-gethers. All lovely once you’re there but all requiring some level of organisation and a plate that preferrably didn’t come from Woolies. Add five or six photobooths per weekend and I have been found frequently rocking in my corner.
Because I’m un-hinged, I get inspired to make things at this time of year. I can’t help it. I get an idea in my head or get inspired from some of the arty/crafty/cooky blogs I read and I can’t relax until I’ve given it a whirl. I just love having the excuse to do something completely removed from everything else and I feel calm when I’m working on something. It’s my happy place.
Earlier this year I was inspired from Bakerella’s amazing blog to make these cookie jars as gifts. They were so easy and I love how they turned out. I had the kids help me with no disasters! Due to Mars not selling red and green themed M&M bags this year, you have to get the kids to sort through normal bags and pick out the red and green ones for you. Funnily enough when they’re done, there’s not a lot of the other colours left over either…
Teachers’ presents: check!
Doing the kids’ Christmas cards for school and kindy. Always a bit of an epic.
Conversation with Cassidy goes like this.
“Mum how do you spell ‘Zoe’
“Z…”
“What’s Z?”
(I pause what I’m doing to draw the letter ‘Z’ in the air).
“Pardon?”
I draw it again in the air to demonstrate.
“Okay, now what?”
Each letter exchange takes approximately 15 seconds. Multiply this by 28 kindy friends with an average of six letters in each name and you get my drift. I get excited if there’s a C, A, S, I, D or Y in a kid’s name because I know it will be over quicker.
I’ve also been looking forward to end of year things so I could practise my iced cookies. Through all this, Steve said I was on drugs. I choose to ignore his heinous comments and strike them from the record.
I’ve been stocking up on Christmas cutters whenever I see them…it’s an untreatable obsession. If you want a cookie cutter that makes a complete replica of Santa’s workshop with working parts, it’s probably in my drawer somewhere. I find the worst obsessions are the ones that only cost you a few dollars each – they’re the most dangerous. I found some the other day that make cookies that stand up. As in 3D. Help me now.
For Isaac’s friends we made Reindeer treats. I think I saw this idea somewhere about three years ago and finally found a carrot cutter one day in my travels. I was excited. So was Isaac. He said his friends came and asked was it okay for them to eat them or were they just for the reindeers. Bless
For Cassa-dass we made Christmas trees on sticks. Cassidy did all the sprinkles and just about had kittens with excitement when she handed them out to her friends. I had plans for some fancier icing attempts but Cassidy doesn’t like the fondant icing. Last time I went all out and made her cakes with fondant icing she sighed and told me she guessed they would have to do. Tough crowd. (In actual fact, I don’t like fondant either. It’s just it looks so prrreeeetttyyyy…..).
Here she is with her trees before kindy looking suspiciously like nobody owns her, or at the very least, doesn’t own a hairbrush.
Isaac is very sweet when he gets presents and often gets quite overwhelmed with it all. He always reads the cards and takes his time.
Cassidy is Chief Organiser and Gestapo Of All Things Christmas. I have to bring things into the house under the cover of darkness so I don’t get the spanish inquistion. If we had a fireplace, she’d be at the bottom of it tapping her watch at Santa saying “try to keep better time next year, there’s a good chap”.
bye bye baby, baby goodbye.
The littlest one is nearly done with kindy. She still has a couple of weeks left for the term, but we had her Christmas concert the other night and I sort of feel like it’s already over 
Here she is before we left, having some photos with Nanna.
There’s my mum She lisped her way through “All I want for Christmastthh is my two front teefthhh” and I could have eaten her right down to her little cotton socks.
With one of her lovely teachers, Miss Shona.
I recently bought a framed print that sits on her bedside table. It says “please stay little”.
My feelings exactly. Tonight, I’m just not ready
hello summer.
Hello beautiful water baby. Aunty Kate wants to bite your thighs
the anti ballerina.
Supposedly ballerinas are the epitome of poise and grace. I think we have a bit of work ahead before she’s ready for Juilliard.
After the concert Grandpa shouted us ice cream at MacDonalds. Upon entering McDonalds she announced she needed to do a wee and could do so with her leotard on under her dress, she just had to “pull it to one side like this mummy” (demonstrating pulling the crotch of her leotard to one side).
I fear McDonalds may never be referred to as a family restaurant again.
baby dolls.
Cassidy and her sweet friend Isabella. They go to kindy and ballet together and I snapped these the other day after they picked up their costumes and had the group photo taken.
Aren’t they just adorable. We had to have the hair and makeup done for the photo and it will also need to be done before the dress rehersal this week and of course for the concert on the weekend. Cassidy thinks all her Christmasses have come at once. I have learned new skills in setting hair in curls and stress management.
It’s like having my very own Malibu Barbie
life is a highway.
This all started a while back when Grandpa found a Pee Wee 50 equivalent at a garage sale for $40. He rang Steve and Steve told him to get it. This all happened in a very Knights of the Round Table way behind my back until next thing I know I’m being led out to the shed to be shown this mini monstrosity. Steve has a gleam in his eye and says he will love it and that it only needs the “carbie” fixed up. I said I couldn’t care less if it was the futuristic 2011 model with cruise control and airbags; I didn’t want our son on it. Steve grew up with two brothers on a farm with various machinery. I grew up in a surburban street with a sister and adding spokey dokies to my pink push bike was as close as I got to ‘pimping my ride’.
From the first moment I saw this thing (I love how they call it a Pee Wee 50. That must be just to make it sound cute and endearing for petrified mothers) I knew I was fighting a losing battle. But I still put up a damn good fight and insisted on every head, elbow and kneww protection available. If there was a full body cast, he’d be in that.
Probably because my heart was in my chest from the moment I woke up on his birthday morning, all these snaps are downright dodgy and blurry. I have no idea how I managed it but it’s like I somehow put the camera on Bad Auto. Sorry ’bout that. Here he is reading one of his cards. Isaac isn’t one to rip into the present. He always reads the cards
Opening his present from Grandma and Grandpa. To stop it giving the whole thing away, we told him it was for next year when he’s eight and allowed to go for a ride on the back of Grandpa’s bike.
Then we led him out to Pa’s shed where the beast was hidden…..
We think he liked it 
We then had to be on our way to pick up friends and get to Wet n Wild so we tore Isaac away with promises of being able to ride it the next day. We had a fabulous day at Wet n Wild where the kids got….ummmm…wet and wild. I came home to the depressing realisation I hadn’t taken any photos because I forgot the handy snap camera and was busy running around after five kids We did take some video but I do not pretend to be clever and have no idea how to insert video into my blog.
The next day arrived and mummy spent it trying to remove her heart from her throat. Again only dodgy photos and video. I must need my own warning sticker – “do not operate camera under stress”.
Happy seventh birthday to our beautiful boy. I love you so so much. Please steer clear of trees, fences and other stationary objects. xoxo
isaac at seven.
Seven. My baby boy is seven tomorrow. For some reason, seven sounds like an awful lot to me. Seven is also notoriously difficult to photograph. Whenever I point the camera at him lately I get a version of this:
But I also get….
- “Love you mum” every morning and every night
- My kisses wiped off followed by raucous laughter and him saying “come and get me mum!”
- His arms draped around my shoulders unexpectedly
- My hair fiddled with and my head stroked when he sits next to me
- Those huge blue eyes looking at me imploringly for any given reason.
- A soft and sensitive soul. He’s always on the lookout for anything wrong with anyone he loves.
- A little boy who isn’t really a little boy anymore and is trying to grasp the ropes of becoming a bigger boy.
You are my biggest and the best. I love you precious boy xoxo
rain.
We finally had a good downpour here the other night and my three and Toby ran around the backyard like crazed luatics on day release from the assylum. I would have joined in, but someone has to take the pictures. And besides my hair would have got wet. And grass would have got between my toes. Way too icky. Did I mention I had to take the pictures….
