Adventures in the Big City

Its hard to believe the last blog I wrote was on the 7th March. 

Now its the 6th May. And quite a few things have changed in our lives, so to keep it simple, was going to write a list...but, you know there are some times in your life when its better not to relive tricky times. Perhaps its best to concentrate on all the great stuff that is happening NOW.

My lovely husband has a great job and is enjoying it. We are housesitting for 6 weeks in the 'burbs of the capital city. The boys are lovely and amazingly resilient. Happiness for them is having their parents around everyday. They are embracing city life ( while Mum is still finding it a bit challenging at times). Yesterday we had the wonderful adventure of catching the bus into local shops. It takes 5 mins to drive, and 15 mins on the bus, so it was time well spent. Even waiting for the bus was an adventure - they learnt about bus stops by special signs, buying a ticket, pressing the bell to stop the bus. Mind boggling stuff. 

For the first few days Big Brother was puzzled by the red lights. 'What are we doing, Mummy?' he asked, EVERY time we stopped. 'Waiting for the lights'. ' Ahh'.

Now he says -' I want to stop at the Red Lights!' when we get a clear run.

Talka talka talka

Little brother has discovered his vocal chords. Specifically that they can make lots of different words that he can use to communicate. He hasnt learned to put them to together yet, but they come out firing out, determined single words sentences. All ending with an -a.

He might say:
'Mumma. Willa. A-saur. Turn. (Shaking his head).'
Transl. :
'Mum, Will is not letting me have a turn with the dinosaur.'

Or:
'Mumma. Juica. Wada (Shaking his head).'
'Mum, I want a juice, NOT a water.

During the summer holidays he renamed his visiting cousin hordes, christening them with the-a. Hannah, Ella, Fletcha, Charl-a, Georgia and Julia came off alright, but Wog (Robbie) and Apgar (Alex) didn't do so well. They just might stick.

He is so enjoying being able to communicate, and he even cracked his first joke the other day. His big brother has been watching a bit of The Muppet Show and had been singing that classic skit -'Mana mana, Do do do do do'. Little brother and I were sitting at the breakfast table and he pointed at the melon I was eating. 'Its melon' I told him. 'Mana' he said, 'Mana.' Then he got a little curious thinking expression on his face and started singing 'Do do do do'.
It may have been a 'you had to be there' joke, and not great over the ethernet, but we both cracked up.

He also loves to sing in the car. Another milestone of language development was reached coming into Piopio last weekend when after 150 kms of E-I-E-I-E-I-E-I, he finally hit the -O.

Amongst the prickles

Two weeks after leaving our home of four years, I find we are on an emotional see-saw.

At one extreme, and mostly, we are missing home, finding it unbelievable that we go to the park and know NO ONE . Unbelievable that our old life and playcenter is carrying on WITHOUT US back in the bay of beauty. Feeling a little guilty I am still for all intents and purposes 'on holiday' and get to live in this other beautiful place.

And at the other extreme I am learning how to fly fish. Living at the river mouth where a world class trout fishing river feeds into a world class trout fishing lake, it only seems appropriate. Added to that my sons can spend hours throwing stones into that river. If we need to survive on trout and blackberries we could.

And then there are the blackberries. As I was wandering down the pumice littered beach this evening for my pre dinner dip in the luke warm lake, with my gin in hand, I just couldn't resist a few black beauties. Seems we have found ourselves in the prickles frequently lately. We have been scratched. We have had tummy aches from eating too many red ones. We've picked a few half ripe ones and been sorely disappointed with the after taste.

But we still can't resist risking finding the sweetest one possible, we can't resist risking reaching so far out of our comfort zone that sometimes we will fall headfirst into the prickles.

Wiping the juice from off our faces we can't blame it on the plants. With the most luscious blackberry come the prickliest prick.

Happy new Blog

Hi there, long time no blog.....let me tell you a little story...

Once upon a time everything was going along peachily, and we all lived in a fairytale town with a great beach and free movies. We had lovely friends and ordered wine by the case from scenic cellars. We had two delicious children and life seemed perfect. Except of course, that nothing is ever permanent and even princesses and princes cop their share of well...challenges and changes.

So, what happened to the heroes of this fairytale? So far, they left town 3 days ago in search of other opportunities, taking their two handsome princes, a truck full of belongings and a collection of life long friends. Presently they are residing beside a beautiful lake, carving boats out of pumice and eating a lot of blackberries. And they still have two delicious children and live really close to scenic cellars now so still manage a few too many good bottles of vino. They are looking for new jobs and a new house. They are reinventing themselves and I hope you continue to follow their journey... they will try and share it with you once more.

(Not anywhere near) The End

Santas Little Helpers

For the sake of all the small children in the world who are looking forward to waking on christmas day to a bulgy sack of pressies, I am glad my two boys are not Santas little helpers. They are Mumma's Little Helpers, and aren't they just such a help.

Little Brother has been helping me cook. By licking handfuls of cocoa off the floor. Where it fell while he was raiding the cupboard, perched on tippy toes on the box of beer he'd tipped over, while trying to reach the Milo tin. Who's lid fell off also. He stopped eating cocoa and went for the milo.

Another time he was helping me make my annual white chocolate christmas-only cheese cake for the big X-day.( Its only a yearly occasion cause its so yummy I'd eat so much I could audition for the next Kung Fu Panda movie. Once I'd trained to do Kung Fu.)
So both boys like to operate the kichen whizz, which is typical for them in being intrigued by the toolkit more than the actual cooking. With only 3 buttons on the machine its pretty safe to put them onto ON/OFF duties. Little Brother however, decided to help with the adding ingredients bit, so while I had my back turned popped in to the mixture what he could reach - the foil top from a cream cheese packet, the lid of the machine (upside down). And a teaspoon...which I only discovered after fishing the other objects out, and turning the motor on. CRRuuunnncch.

Big Brother is very helpful. When bribed. Occasionally he goes for gold, like today when he tidied a glass jar off an outdoor table by throwing it onto the concrete. Thanks dear. To be fair he is an ace egg cracker, and even fishes out the pieces of rogue shell.

They are great little helpers and like to help their Mumma. Copying is such a huge method of learning, however it makes me a little nervous when I see my LB at 18 months get a beer out of the fridge, find the right tool out of the draw, and start bashing the bottle top with the opener. When the coast is clear he grabs the BBQ slice and heads out to the patio. And he loves to get a knife from the draw and try and pry open the cupboards (who on earth did he learn that one off?)

I love letting them have a go, and try to be positive about the resulting mess. I can only imagine what carnage it would be to let them loose in Santa's workshop. Lucky you Santa. But believe me, they have been very good (helpful) boys this year.

Dot Dot

"OOh look boys....whats out there on the lawn????... a series of little brown packages on the lawn/stones/deck!!! ...ohh do you think santa's been past for a quick reccie and the reindeer left us a clue???.."

Ah, sorry, no. Actually it is the gift that keeps on giving this christmas - the 18month old who's decided to toilet train himself.

He's always had a sly fascination of the smallest room in the house and now he' s a big dot-dot (transl. toilet) man.
First thing in the morning...we hear him yell ' DOT DOT' and up we leap to take him for his 'wee' sit. And then everytime he feels like a 'Loll-Loll' (lolly) throughout the day he manages to squeeze one out.

As a cloth warrior mum every nappy I don't have to scrub is a joy (bless his cotton socks) and we are of course very proud of him being so well, darned advanced. But....it's the other presents we find everywhere that are rather trying. Like the 'reindeer' droppings on the lawn. And quite a few other places I won't describe incase our landlord reads this! Subsequently we are spending a lot of time reading stories in the little room, hoping to catch 'it', and train 'it' through masses of praise, silly songs and confectionery. I think at his age the spirit is willing, but his little brain doesn't quite translate the warning signs in time.

(Apologies for the theme tonight, but it is a truth universally acknowledged among those like myself who have worked in care of the elderly, that if the bowels aren't working, then nothing else happens. And on the other end of the scale, just ask any mothers groups what their number 1 topic of conversation is. In the dawn, as well as the twilight of life, we will spend a considerable amount of time discussing 'it'.)

On that note, I'd better go check the premises for any gifts from our delightfully advanced son. I guess when it comes to early indicators of genius there is no guarantee of musical protege.

Early Bird Phone Rates

Hurray I have finally worked out what to do with myself at 5.30am.

Little Brother has taken to waking at this middle of the night hour. We haul him into bed with us and then solidly ignore him for half an hour. He begins loudly announcing his plan for the day : starting with rollcall of 'Mama', and 'Dada', to check we haven't fallen back to sleep followed by breakfast plans ..
'yice?' (ricies)
'beetbix?' (weetbix),
'milt?' (milk)
'yurt?' (yoghurt)
'uuga' (sugar)

Eventually one of us gives in and gets up and produces a huge plateful of a mixture of the above for the little man to attack/spread over the table chairs and floor. This morning he was dressed and had finished breakfast (plus doing wees on the toilet for the first time) by 6.05am.

He merrily starts on his days work beginning by emptying the toy box and having a good brrom of the best cars before his brother gets up. But what am I supposed to do? It is still a good 2 hours away from being physiologically time to wake up.

This morning I hit upon the greatest plan...call my friends in England! It is comforting to know that somewhere in the world adults are up and functioning, albeit walking home from work in the partial darkness.

So early mornings are set to become full of christmas cheer, as I do my UK christmas cards - by phone. And perhaps a bit of early morning blogging too, although I'd better go now, it's 7.15 and Little Brother is ranscking the pantry looking for morning tea... 'Bit-bit??'