After a week of shoe horsing tired boys into uniforms, patching up shoes with duct tape and bribing them with sugary snacks in their lunch boxes, finally the final bell came. The teachers looked as relieved as the children. The parents were slightly less excited at the prospect of 6 weeks full time childcare, but at least the lunch boxes can be retired, and food simply laid about the house in opportune piles for casual grazing.
We got home at 2pm after a celebratory pizza and chip lunch with half the school at the long suffering local pizzeria. The boys first mission was to voluntarily clean the car so buckets of soppy water, hoses, spray bottles, clothes and water guns were hastily provided. It was a good reminder of holiday lesson number 1. Go with the chaos. Especially if something might be cleaned in the process.
Next, all the toy animals and McDonald's pre-landfill plastic collection of 2012 were collected, and lined up on the bedroom floor in preparation for a epic battle. This was a good reminder of No. 2. Go with the mess. And watch where you step.
The trampoline began it's transformation into a pirate ship. 'I need a stick to put the sail on' Little Brother said. 'And tomorrow, I'm going to work on the stuff that's inside the pirate ship, like a TV. It's going to be awesomely rocket.'
He ran off to get out of his uniform and into his casual look du jour - a T-shirt for a T-shirt, a T-shirt for shorts (legs through armholes and voila - instant tail!) and undies for a beard.
Reminder No.3. Go with the increase in washing. And pick up all used undies before they are recycled into props.
We had two swims in the sea over the afternoon and evening. Big Brother and Little Brother swam out in their life jackets as hubby and I watched and enjoyed a beer and chat in the setting sun. 'He was slipping out of his life jacket and I saved his life' was the report from Big Brother when they arrived back. He's prone to exaggeration, but still, Reminder No.4. Keep up the head count. 1.2.3. Children. How many? 1.2.3. Very precious and quite independent but still needing close supervision.
It got later and later in the day as Little Brother tried to find the perfect body cover that wouldn't attract bees, and Big Brother continued writing his lengthy tome that is entitled 'My Christmas list'.
Reminder no.5. What's bed time? We're having too much fun.
.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
X's and Why's
As women we walk the tightrope of the double XX chromosome. Some of us balance perfectly poised dancing through life, and others of us swing side to side changing our minds like Tarzan trying to find rhe perfect vine. I can see with Little Miss 3 that she's already begun practising her acrobatics. On one side of the X's she feels the drive to be autonomous, independent, in charge of her destiny.
We're driving.
'I COLD" she yells, 'put up my window."
I put up her car window.
'But, I really cold' she yells again 'put up your window'.
'No thanks,' I said,' I want my window down because I am hot'.
And yet, on the other side of X, she really really wants to fit in, live the in crowd, keep up with the latest trend.
'But I'm Hot too" she yells straight back at me. "I want MY window down".
The other morning there was the empty packet of highly-priced-strictly-for-adults-in-the-family-cereal lying empty on the table.
'Who ate all the cereal?' I grumbled, asking nobody in particular.
'Actually, I eat it ' she said. 'I eat it p-cos, I eat it p-cos, (pause) I CAN eat it'.
While it's lovely having a like-chromosomed creature in the house, it's like running into a dear friend while travelling on Titanic. Having two of us onboard means it's going to get hairy for everyone at some stage.
A few weeks ago she was happily sitting in the car watching the world go by, when she suddenly observed "Mumma, your hair is all grimpily!"
"Thanks, I think" I replied, unsure if it was a heavily disguised compliment, or not.
A few days later, she told a friend. " You have grimpily hair, too, just like my mum!"
This was encouraging, considering the shiny stylish hair of my friend.
But last night all hopes were shattered. 'You lie down, Mummy' she said. 'I going to cut cut cut your hair. And brush it too. It's ALL grimpily, again.'
She is torn between desperately wanting to gather information, but already knowing all the answers.
' Where the sun gone?' She demanded, as we drove through the twilight home from scouts.
' The sun has gone down, so it's nighttime now'
'No. Why? She countered.
I tried my best. ' During the day the sun moves across our sky, but during the night it's moving across the sky on the other side of the world so it's daytime there'
(I feel bad about the Santa fallacy so I try to give as truthful answers as I can the rest of the year)
'No. Why?'
'Well actually, it's the earth that travels around the sun, but don't worry about that. Everyday the sun looks like it travels across the sky, then it sets and it's dark while the sun is on the other side of the planet. ' I bumbled.
' No. Your hair is grimpily.'
' Ok. Thanks.'
On the Y chromosome team, life seems much more practical, needs based, got-an-itch-scratch-it.
It comes in handy for random gaps in conversation, 'You should never bury your Dad in the desert sands when he's sunbathing and falls asleep ' Little Brother advised his cousin the other day, 'you might never find him again!'
And another favourite conversation starter: 'Did you know that I am allergic to poison?'
We're driving.
'I COLD" she yells, 'put up my window."
I put up her car window.
'But, I really cold' she yells again 'put up your window'.
'No thanks,' I said,' I want my window down because I am hot'.
And yet, on the other side of X, she really really wants to fit in, live the in crowd, keep up with the latest trend.
'But I'm Hot too" she yells straight back at me. "I want MY window down".
The other morning there was the empty packet of highly-priced-strictly-for-adults-in-the-family-cereal lying empty on the table.
'Who ate all the cereal?' I grumbled, asking nobody in particular.
'Actually, I eat it ' she said. 'I eat it p-cos, I eat it p-cos, (pause) I CAN eat it'.
While it's lovely having a like-chromosomed creature in the house, it's like running into a dear friend while travelling on Titanic. Having two of us onboard means it's going to get hairy for everyone at some stage.
A few weeks ago she was happily sitting in the car watching the world go by, when she suddenly observed "Mumma, your hair is all grimpily!"
"Thanks, I think" I replied, unsure if it was a heavily disguised compliment, or not.
A few days later, she told a friend. " You have grimpily hair, too, just like my mum!"
This was encouraging, considering the shiny stylish hair of my friend.
But last night all hopes were shattered. 'You lie down, Mummy' she said. 'I going to cut cut cut your hair. And brush it too. It's ALL grimpily, again.'
She is torn between desperately wanting to gather information, but already knowing all the answers.
' Where the sun gone?' She demanded, as we drove through the twilight home from scouts.
' The sun has gone down, so it's nighttime now'
'No. Why? She countered.
I tried my best. ' During the day the sun moves across our sky, but during the night it's moving across the sky on the other side of the world so it's daytime there'
(I feel bad about the Santa fallacy so I try to give as truthful answers as I can the rest of the year)
'No. Why?'
'Well actually, it's the earth that travels around the sun, but don't worry about that. Everyday the sun looks like it travels across the sky, then it sets and it's dark while the sun is on the other side of the planet. ' I bumbled.
' No. Your hair is grimpily.'
' Ok. Thanks.'
On the Y chromosome team, life seems much more practical, needs based, got-an-itch-scratch-it.
It comes in handy for random gaps in conversation, 'You should never bury your Dad in the desert sands when he's sunbathing and falls asleep ' Little Brother advised his cousin the other day, 'you might never find him again!'
And another favourite conversation starter: 'Did you know that I am allergic to poison?'
Friday, December 7, 2012
Countdown aka Dash for the finish
Christmas fever is building in our house. Oh, yeah. To be honest I'm about ready to pack in all commitments and resign myself to overeating, sorting lego into colours and pjama's as acceptable day wear. Yet, still we have a play centre christmas party, a 40th party, a community market, a tree to decorate, a 3 year old birthday party to organise and execute, white chocolate cheese cake to make, cards to post, friends to see, parcels to send, a nativity performance, a pizza night, christmas carols to practise on the ukelele.
No wonder we go about raving about peace, love and joy this time of the year cause we really need it. So much expectation to do it all in the few weeks left of this year, lets not forget there is another year around the corner.
The kids are enjoying the build up. They have started singing themselves to sleep with renditions of Silent night.
Little Brother told me the other day - 'Mum, I actually am going to make some Holy Spirit. I actually know the recipe - do you want to hear it? '
I was very keen. He said - 'I need milk and leaves and three types of food colouring - cause, you know, one for the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.' (Oh, that kind of spirit, I was hoping for a bit of holy Vodka).
They set up the Nativity scene on the fire hearth, and Big Brother pointed out the three wise men - 'That one is bringing Jesus gold.'
'ooh, treasure' said Little brother, a very keen pirate himself/.
'That one is bringing MURR' BB continued, himself a veteran of two Nativity plays,
'And that one is bring Frankfurters'.
No wonder we go about raving about peace, love and joy this time of the year cause we really need it. So much expectation to do it all in the few weeks left of this year, lets not forget there is another year around the corner.
The kids are enjoying the build up. They have started singing themselves to sleep with renditions of Silent night.
Little Brother told me the other day - 'Mum, I actually am going to make some Holy Spirit. I actually know the recipe - do you want to hear it? '
I was very keen. He said - 'I need milk and leaves and three types of food colouring - cause, you know, one for the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.' (Oh, that kind of spirit, I was hoping for a bit of holy Vodka).
They set up the Nativity scene on the fire hearth, and Big Brother pointed out the three wise men - 'That one is bringing Jesus gold.'
'ooh, treasure' said Little brother, a very keen pirate himself/.
'That one is bringing MURR' BB continued, himself a veteran of two Nativity plays,
'And that one is bring Frankfurters'.
NO !
She is going to be the perfect teenager. The world revolves around her and she controls the universe by saying 'NO' at every opportunity. I have to learn to state requests and never ever ask her if she wants to do something. The answer is already and will always be (until age 25) : No.
In a moment of weakness (and in desperate search for just the right type of requested undies for a christmas present) I ventured for the first time ever, into the Mall with her.
It was a doomed mission as she was already tired from a big weekend and late night. As we pulled into a park and she screeched "NO! Don't want this park, want THAT park" (pointing at the vacant space next to our car)
Oh dear. If that wasn't case for aborting mission, I dont know what further sign I needed. However, blithely, stupidly, thinking 'how bad can it be? she's two years old', I pushed on.
It was a classic case of mall-staggers crossed with christmas-toddler-grabs. I WANT IT! she yelled when she saw everything, the 10 metre tree , the sparkley baubles, the jockey undies with Dan Carter's own baubles buldging. I covered her eyes and said peacefully "Ok, lets put it on your christmas list".
The first 10 times I managed to say in peacefully, but that didn't last. I WANT IT ON MY CHRISTMAS LIST! she yelled. She's quite loud, my daughter.
I resorted to bribery and headed to buy us a juice, for (um?) good behaviour. She proceeded to have not one but two fully fledged lying on the ground, dress up round her ears, kicking, screaming tantrums as she objected to sharing the strawberry smoothie with me.
I kept up my mantra under my breath 'Who's the adult? I'm the adult'.
I carried her back to the car and went home and put her to bed. 2 hours later she emerged sweetness and delight.
I spent the time thinking of when she is a teenager and what how things will be so much better then. She'll ask 'Can I borrow the car?" Can I stay out late? Can I go to a party? He's just my friend!"
You know my answer will be?
In a moment of weakness (and in desperate search for just the right type of requested undies for a christmas present) I ventured for the first time ever, into the Mall with her.
It was a doomed mission as she was already tired from a big weekend and late night. As we pulled into a park and she screeched "NO! Don't want this park, want THAT park" (pointing at the vacant space next to our car)
Oh dear. If that wasn't case for aborting mission, I dont know what further sign I needed. However, blithely, stupidly, thinking 'how bad can it be? she's two years old', I pushed on.
It was a classic case of mall-staggers crossed with christmas-toddler-grabs. I WANT IT! she yelled when she saw everything, the 10 metre tree , the sparkley baubles, the jockey undies with Dan Carter's own baubles buldging. I covered her eyes and said peacefully "Ok, lets put it on your christmas list".
The first 10 times I managed to say in peacefully, but that didn't last. I WANT IT ON MY CHRISTMAS LIST! she yelled. She's quite loud, my daughter.
I resorted to bribery and headed to buy us a juice, for (um?) good behaviour. She proceeded to have not one but two fully fledged lying on the ground, dress up round her ears, kicking, screaming tantrums as she objected to sharing the strawberry smoothie with me.
I kept up my mantra under my breath 'Who's the adult? I'm the adult'.
I carried her back to the car and went home and put her to bed. 2 hours later she emerged sweetness and delight.
I spent the time thinking of when she is a teenager and what how things will be so much better then. She'll ask 'Can I borrow the car?" Can I stay out late? Can I go to a party? He's just my friend!"
You know my answer will be?
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