kung fu and wolf like creatures.
The other day, Cassidy came tearing in from outside where both the kids had been playing peacefully.
She came screaming up the stairs and grabbed onto my leg blubbering…”Oisaac…..(sob)…Oisaac….(sob)”. At the moment, “Oisaac” came in the door and all that was missing was a big GUILTY stamp accross his forehead. Recently Isaac has been in trouble for his kung fu moves, inspired by a little too much Kung Foo Panda. He will often run towards Cassidy at full speed and screech to a halt and fling his leg around in a very un-calcuated kung fu kick. This has proven to been excellent in getting him in trouble with me, but apparently worth it for the ticked off response from his sister.
I asked, “what did you do to her”, assuming I already knew the answer. First rule of parenting: assume nothing.
He said, “I was only pretending to be Wolverine”.
No, our six year old son has not seen nor will he see what I know to be a recent Hugh Jackman movie that I don’t doubt to be full of blood, violence, and I assume, wolf-like creatures. I guess I could blame school yard talk or I could just put it down to him being a boy – with a little sister that screams when you frighten her. Awesome as.
tiny dancer.
The small one of the house had her first dancing lesson today. It started a few weeks ago when apparently a few of the girls in her kindy class got changed into their dancing gear for their lesson. Cassidy’s teacher painted me a vision of Cassidy’s face and hands smooshed up against the window pane watching them leave. Cassidy then proceeded to bring that vision to life by talking incessantly about it for the next week.
“Mummy you know my friend Bella well she does dancing and she has to have special shoes and there’s pink ones mummy they’re for the ballet and then there’s the brown ones well they’re sort of brown they’re a bit pink-ish as well they’re for the tap dancing and I love tap dancing mummy well I’ve never done tap dancing but I think I’d love it and Erin and Sophie go to dancing to mummy and you know I have to have special shoes………”. Once she started, it was very hard to turn her off.
The dancing queen commentary only intensified last week when I told her I’d spoken to the dance lady and she’d said she could come with the girls on Tuesday. I made the grave mistake of telling her it was a “try to see if you like it” and she proceeded to inform me that she didn’t need to try, Bella had already showed her and she already like it. Okaaaay).
Yesterday we went and bought The Shoes which she preceeded to prance around in a high-falutin’ way till bed. I went in well after bed time because I could hear her fossicking around and leant over her bed. Her eyes were wide and darting fom side to side like a panicked cat. I said what are you doing, you should be asleep. She said I’m waiting for dancing. I said wait with your eyes closed. She said my eyes won’t close. And on it went. Just when I was considering hard drugs, she dozed off.
The blessed hour arrived when dancing was to commence and by the time I picked her up from kindy she was a panicked cat on steroids. You know, the type when every time they open their mouth a squeal comes out instead of words. I insisted she give me one photo for Daddy so she gave me one spin and took off. This is one mummy breathing a sigh of relief they were in focus:
Right after those shots were taken she ran up the path and was met by one of her equally pink friends…there was backlight, there was cuddles and giggles…and I had put my camera into my bag and didn’t get there in time 
Once inside, it was proven that yes in fact, she did “already like it”. I mainly took video as I didn’t have a decent shooting view and they ran (or pranced) around a lot. She took it all rather seriously though; I distinctly heard her tell one of her friends “stop talking to me, I’m trying to listen to Miss Kerrie”. Hmmm. The pot calling the kettle black perhaps.
Her first words to me when she finished were, “See mum I didn’t have to try”. Obviously she wanted to cement the thought process in me that she was planning to return to the land of Fancy Shoes and Wonder. Unfortunately the sweet mood came off with the leotard as the emotional high of the past week ran out of her with a crash. She didn’t need any rocking (or hard drugs) tonight. I love you my tiny dancer.
the breakfast of tomorrow.
Or as Emma is calling it “The Working Professional’s Breakfast Friend”. Catchy title. I am calling it the Breakfast of Tomorrow after my friend Erin (she knows why!)
It’s actually the new Tefal Toast’n'Egg. Why is this necessary in life you ask? I wasn’t quite sure but it was dinky enough that when I saw it in the Target catalogue, got a tad obsessed and went for a look. By the time I got there at around 10.30am, there was only the display one left. My friend Nat, who was with me at the time, said “well, the mini fry pan sells it for me”. I concurred.
I took it round to Mum’s where she scoffed, Em was unconvinced and the boys smirked in the irritating way boys smirk. I’ll show them I thought.
So this morning after Steve had taken Isaac to school, Cassidy and I decided to take it for a little test run. First, we needed a Martha Stewart test kitchen. You know the kind with beautiful light, white and lemon finishings, chintz curtains and casually placed but expensive and un-used tea towels. Since we didn’t have one of those, my dark and early 1990’s style one would have to do.
I did however have a beautiful assistant wearing rainbow pyjamas and bed hair. Behold the Tefal Toast’n'Egg:
Behold the afore-mentioned mini frypan. You getting me now?
My beautiful assistant came complete with the standard fake/scary smile….
….and unbridled fake enthusiasm.
This is when we realised we’d left the instruction booklet at Nanna’s. I figured out where the water should go and decided to try soft boiling an egg first. I finally figured out how to turn it on and the toast started toasting and the egg thing starting steaming. Cassidy got excited. I was trying to choose between excited or “run for the hills, she’s gonna blow!!”
The excitement of the test kitchen got a little too much for Cass and she had a bit of a Dr. Evil moment.
The Verdict: “Good googy, mum”.
I had to agree. So we decided to put the mini fry pan through it’s paces and do the poached variety.
A perfectly poached success!
Kate and Cassidy’s Test Kitchen signing off. Stay tuned for our next episode after the next junk mail with unecessary yet fascinating small appliances arrives.
my parasol if you please.
I am the first to admit that I am somewhat of a girlie girl. I was one of two girls. As it happened we had two other families of which we spent a lot of our growing up years and both had girls. We spent most of our time making cubbies, doing plays or concerts we made up and in general, avoiding getting dirty.
I have come the conclusion that boys don’t work this way. They like dirt, anything that involves getting rough and seeping blood is something to be proud of. I like to stand on the sidelines with my camera and pretend it’s someone else’s son hurtling themselves down dangerous chasms at a million miles an hour. Sort of like in the olden days when the women stood on the sidelines during the fox hunts calling out dainty encouragement to the men. Give me a white frilly dress, a cup of tea and a parasol anyday I say.
On the weekend we went to visit Rod and Jen as Isaac has been hanging out to do what boys do with Will and Tom at the “awesome as” BMX track down the road from their place.
Cassidy wants to be involved but I think she’s a girl after my own heart. Her form of “optioning up” her bike is baby, streamers and spokie dokies. She also doesn’t like riding uphill, hence the second photo.
The road hogs ready for action.
1. Something along the lines of “No way chum”.
2. Daddy adjusts the gears to the ‘avoid death’ setting whilst talking him into it.
3. It’s sort of like pulling a tooth….push them over the edge quickly.
4. “Awesome as, mum!”.
Hooning with dad.
Cassidy also preferred the sidelines and being carried by Aunty Jen.
Will is a bit of a pro.
Tom frightening the wildlife with his saber toothed smile.
Cassidy conning Uncle Rod into a ride home.
Me and one of my nearest and dearest. And no, I don’t have a long lost sister – God must have just mixed up our complexions in the same petri dish 
self portrait 101.
The kids have a little dodgy Fisher Price camera that I bought on a whim once. It really is quite useless; the quality of the photos is nothing short of pathetic. The kind people at Fisher Price were generous enough to make the camera create images with enough quality to make awesome web-sized thumbnails. Luckily, the kids aren’t impressed by quality and on occasion wander around the house snapping away. Whenever we remember to download from the camera, I always have a giggle….I love seeing what took their fancy. Their photos remind me of the ones Ray took on the closing credits of Rain Man
I love these three….she was standing beside me the other day when she took them and I distinctly remember the running commentary after each shot:
….and some artistic vision.
the boy.
Sometimes I worry that I post more about The Girl than The Boy. It’s simply because she hangs around me like a fly after the honey wheras, according to Isaac, mum just isn’t all that cool any more. Or as he puts it, “awesome as”. Having his photo taken is not really “awesome as” either. Add school five days a week to the mix and it doesn’t leave a lot of paparazzi time.
Yesterday we went out with the purpose of getting a decent promo pic of the photobooth and I had a little mwooh-har-har to myself and thought I’d catch The Boy off guard. After all, we were going to the aerodrome, which he loves. I stuffed a toy plane in the back of the car to butter him up even more.
He obliged, mainly because he had an excuse to do some zooming and make sound effects. Can you imagine my little dorky photographer dance when I came across a sign that matched his plane:
Of course there was no show without punch so while Steve set up the booth, I took the chance to snap a couple of The Girl in her Easter dress. Which she loves. Because it has strawberries as pockets and “I like thhrawberrieths mum”.
The Boy and The Girl. She quite happy to snuggle; I was just lucky he was watching the plane take off on the runway or I doubt this sort of snuggling frivolity would have been allowed.
counting down the days.
I try not to think about the fact that next year my littlest starts school. No more Mondays and Fridays at home by ourselves without the boys. I can think of a million more reasons I’m going to miss our days at home together…but I’m getting teary so let’s just move on to the now.
We often hang out in mummy and daddy’s room while I do the folding or the ironing. The curtains are often all she needs for entertainment, and she will pop in and out of them for ages whilst giving her standard running commentary on the world around her.
Cassidy (for possibly the 100th time that morning) “Mum, do you know where I am?”
Me “You’re behind the curtain Cass”.
Cassidy “Yes!! How did you know?”
Me “Just a lucky guess”.
Cassidy “What are we doing today mum? Are we doing something ‘citing?” (exciting)
Me “Well if you call grocery shopping exciting, then yes we are”.
Cassidy “Oooh yes! You’re lucky you have me to help you with the shopping aren’t you mum because otherwise you’d forget things and we couldn’t have our strawberry milk”.
Me “I sure am baby”.
More than she’ll ever know.
sixteen could be a problem.
Considering she likes her hair curled and to wear “wip gwoss” at four.
mothers day.
My day started with two sparkly eyed little jumping beans clambering on top of me in bed. I was spoiled with presents they made at school and kindy, a beautiful photo frame I’ve been wanting and a cup of tea. What a blessed woman am I.
Mother’s Day this year was very special to our family for another reason and his name is William Jack. It was Em’s first Mother’s Day with her beautiful, precious little boy after two long and hard years of trying to conceive. Last year’s Mother’s Day was not an easy one for Em, and to see her with her beautiful boy this year brings tears to all our eyes. Please keep these precious women that find Mother’s Day the hardest day of all in your prayers and always, always, be sensitive at this time – you simply don’t know what others may be going through.
old people can still party.
The biggest fiftieth bash of the year went off with coffee and dessert and the booth. Between you, me and the doorpost, it’s hard to say who you have to keep an eye out for more in the booth – drunk groups of guys in their mid twenties or the perfectly sober over-fifties. It’s a toss up.
For the cakes we did cupcakes baked in mini tea cups and decorated like little coffees, mini cupcakes and mini little milkshake/sundae looking things made out of pudding. There just something about anything mini that floats my boat. Since it seems unlikely that anyone’s going to drive a red soft top Mini Cooper into my driveway anytime soon, I satisfy the obsession with cupcakes.
The booth shenanigans. I admit I was apart of said shenanigans. Give a group of people some helium balloons, cupcakes and a wooden giraffe and who knows what will happen.
If you can tell from the tiny pics, I’ve cut my hair. It was almost to the lower part of my back and I have felt I resembled Cousin It for some time. Me – happy and spending much less time un-clogging my hair from the drain in the shower. Husband – in therapy, but making steady progress.
I also particulary like this little series of Uncle Steve…
And this one of the birthday girl. Don’t worry, we kept her away from the cupcakes, the helium and the naked flame after this. 
Hope you had a great time Mum/Nanna….we all love you very very much xoxox
