Dreams

These things I used to day dream about:

..living in spain....eating sardines...learning a new language...tramping through bush...writing poetry...

These things I now day dream about:

1. Drawers to put my children's clothes in after 4 months of fishing them out of bags.

2. Three hours off mothering this friday -wow, what a great chance for some me-time. The sad fact is I'll be sitting in a dentist chair having 5 fillings put in. Even sadder is looking forward to the chance to nearly lie down for that long! And the prospect of a day in bed recovering, eating panadol, slurping mushy food and reading books.

The question is how did I get so stretched? I've become a smear of marmite spread over way to many pieces of toast. And the fault is my own, because I haven't asked for or prioritised the need to spend some time and energy dreaming about things I want. I'm the robot responding to the demands and needs of my nearest and dearest, where's that poetry writing sardine eating dreamer gone?

Must ponder on this while listening to the dulcet tones of the drill on friday....

To the farm and back

Driving back into the big city after a week on The Farm with the boyos felt well,...quite good really. I must be settling in. It helped having a great night out planned - Dinner at Uncle Changs with Narelle and Julian followed by hilarious musical comedy starring the fabulously talented Pip Drinkwater. Nothing like time with old friends.

We had a blast at the farm, the boys are exhausted after playing with the cousins (believe me, there are 24 of them in the region so its hard. core. fun.) I realised how cooped up they have been over the last few weeks hanging out with old glum mum with a queasy tum. Note to self - must drag rapidly expanding arse of couch and do more high energy STUFF! Watch this space.

This pregnancy is starting to tick along nicely, just hit 19 weeks, or 18, or 20. Funny how it all goes mushy in my brain. I'm having a bit of movement that may or may not be more exciting than gas, although would like to have more (more baby kicks, that is, not wind. My cup runneth over in that department!). I can't remember what the boys were like - activity wise - at this stage, but I know later on they were all go go go - always up for a uter-race around the uterus. Lovely hubby suggested perhaps this one is a girl who might be more into sitting around reading a book at the library. I'll take it as a positive, although I know he actually means i.e. more like its mother than those two rockets who like to make pretend parachutes and launch off the furniture.

Wanted : NBF : New Bestest Friend :)

I love Wednesdays.

Playcentre in the morning = 3 solid hours of well,..play. For the boys its pure action and for Mum, its pure sanity. I have felt the most normal over the last 6 weeks when we've been at play centre. Funny thing, must be the gentle smell of playdough, the chatter of excited kids, just being Mum with other mums and enjoying the kids - all of them interacting to learn, learning to not bash each other, and exploring the world. Its full on, I admit, but somehow refreshing and recharging being in a room full of bunnies that only have two speeds - enthusiastic and asleep.

It's also really nice to meet some new friends (I hope). I am trying not to appear too capital D for desperate for new mates. Its first year at high school all over again, shying testing the waters by chatting to different people, thinking 'are you my NBF?'....'will you be up for a glass of wine at 4pm on a random tuesday where we drink and feed the kids sausages then one of us stumbles home pushing a buggy?'. Those sorts of friends are well worth getting over my teen angst shyness for. And yes, they take time (don't want to appear like a win-o).

In the meantime, the boys wake up every morning asking for playcentre. Next term we'll be upping our days to 2X week for LB and 4X for BB. If that works out Big Brother wont need to go to Kindy as well, he can do the advanced session for 4 yr olds until he goes to school. (Excuse me while I howl at the thought of loosing my first born to the bowels of structured education) Its a great option for me cause this way I'll get to meet, and establish NBFs with more possible 4pm winos, rather than at kindergarten where its usually more drop off and pick up the kids.

Hoorah for Play Centre. I like actually playing with play dough too - I dont just sniff it - its so wormy and squishy and therapeutic.

Serene and calm mother to be

Yeah, right, could be a Tui billboard.

I have had visions leading up to this pregnancy of myself as a serene orb floating through the crazy world humming peacefully, glowing with goodwill and loveliness, exuding an aura of 'dont mind me I'm making eyebrows' to random passerbys.

I thought that IF I was so blessed as to have another chance at No.3, that I'd be so constantly grateful that I'd be in one of those near death hovering scenarios, untouched by the woes of the passing world, and just in tune with my miracle of internal person making, subtley influencing the world around me with all my infectious joy.

But, no, sorry, hasn't happened.

I've turned into one of those Mums that (I confess) prior to having my own children, I judged as they dragged screaming brats through the Mall barking orders such as 'if you don't stop, I'll lock you in the car'. I used to think (very ashamed to confess) of such mothers 'if they so obviously don't like their kids, why do they bother having them?'

The harsh truth is that being a mother is such sodding hard work, as wearying as the rock under the constant drip of water. A rock that would freely admit to LOVE water, still gets worn away. And that's how I've felt a lot this pregnancy.

I know that the circumstances of my present position have been dripping on the rock also, and I know that it's my beloved children doing what they do (being kids let loose in a mall) that tends to be the drip that cracks the rock into two splintered shards, the last straw, the final act of a two year old that sends me barking, mad, sad, tearful and ultimately ashamed of myself as a mother.

I am trying to say that we all need to give ourselves, other mothers we see out and about (surviving despite their constant dripping), and our children a break. We are all doing great. We all love our children. We do a million wonderful things a day to show our kids how much we love them.

I am so grateful to have another chance at our cherry on top. Just don't read this rock by its slippery and worn surfaces right now. It winter and its raining alot.

Great Town Adventture - Part Two

The train pulled out, but still the adventure continued - what a day.

(Next immediate challenge required negotiating a double inline buggy into the ladies at the aging train station - I have decided forget weights, clicky brakes or foot pedals, ease of folding and trendiness, the ultimate test of any buggy is (drumroll please) getting in/out of the loos out in the public domain. They usually have a double door arrangement where the doors open opposite ways. And a crazy shaped space in between. Here is where buggy companies should be test their products. Top marks to the Vibe today, got in without any swearing, lifting, or door frame carving, and got out even easier with help from a lovely lady whom held open one of the doors. May she be blessed with a long life of bladder function.)

So it was time for lunch and armed with a picnic we hunted for a park. From just outside the station I spotted a lovely tree adorned park a short walk away - complete with its own beehive! The workers bees must have been busy today, as we didnt see any but Little Brother did see a big big big man (statue) and Big Brother practised for a career in protesting by getting himself stuck in a pile of railings. Little brother spotted a seagull and a few pigeons, and suddenly yelled out 'Turkey?'. Checking my watch I assured him the turkeys were still probably in morning session, but he was likely to see some anytime soon when they adjourned for lunch!!!!

After a 10 minute dash into Kirks (bad news, couldnt get buggy through just one of the doors - had to wrestle open two and perform acrobatics with my chin to propel buggy while holding doors open by doing splits - a very good look) and a wander along the waterfront, a play at Frank Kitts park and an overdue dose of sunshine I have to admit you can't beat Wellington on a good day.

Refueling at Te Papa Cafe with a Hot CHoc (still voted best in the city) and a few jellies (genius marketing stroke) was followed by a quick check to see neither the Giant Squid or the Giant Moa had grown, moved, or procreated since we last saw them. And after a shake in the shakey house I dragged the boys (literally screaming) out of Te Papa and over to our friend Stanleys house.

Big day, so big, infact, I confess I rang Stanley's mum from the bottom of the incredibly steep hill and she came down and picked us up! The greatest adventurers of all need to realise their limits (Sir Ed didnt try to do Everest twice in a day, did he), and when they have jolly well earned that cuppa and a lie down.

Great Train Adventure Part 1

Last Friday dawned sunny and bright and perfect for an adventure on a train! However all adventurers tend to have challenges and our started by missing the hourly bus from the top of the hill to the train station. We were only 5 minutes early - cripes they are punctual in this city.
We sat in the curb for a bit then decided on plan b - to walk down to the park on the corner and catch the following hours bus. This all went great until 10 mins before said bus is due to arrive Big Brother utters the five words all mothers dread to here while out and about...'I want to do Poos'.
Up the hill/mountain side we trudged all the way past two bus stops back to home.

Here is where I nearly threw in the towel. I felt like a cuppa and a lie down. I just couldn't bear the thought of the fallout from two toddlers and a long day of 1000 questions 'bus?' 'bus now?' 'want BUUUUUSSSSSSS'. 'train?'

So we wiped, flushed, and reboarded the buggy and raced the now well won path back to bus stop number 1. And it came ! On we hopped, while I wrestled the buggy into folded submission two little boys confidently marched up the bus, found an empty seat and got themselves all seated. What a couple of townies these two have turned into.

OH, but the train, that was eyes-like-saucers-exciting. The huffing and puffing of the doors closing, the screeching of the wheels as the breaks released, clatter-clatter and that lovely rocking sensation of the carriages ambling pigeon toed along the tracks. And then there were 7 tunnels and the dropping pitch of the clanging as we hurtled through the crossings. I quite enjoyed it myself. I even had a few nostalgic moments thinking about my commuting days in London on the tube (all evils pale with time, it seems).

Pulling into Wellington station the boys eyes popped out - theres another train over there! and over there! and over there!... With help from the other friendly commuters we lumped our trusty phil and teds off the train and climbed aboard. The train filled up and departed again, watched by two boys sated with tank engine joy. That was a really useful train trip.