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?'

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 !

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?

RIP Ba-Ba

Yesterday afternoon she was leaping around the lawn, nibbling the grass, shredding my best pea crop in years, and stripping the silver beet of all greenery.
Last night, she was lying down, lethargic and this morning she is as stiff as a board.
So ends the short fluffy sweet life of Barbara-Ann Lamington Pearl (aka Ba-ba).
I blubbered.
Sheep farming is totally emotionally draining, especially when your entire flock is wiped out in one night. My brother the real sheep farmer reminded me of the saying - Where there is livestock, there's dead stock.
Maybe she found a poisonous nibbly bit she couldn't resist, maybe she had a clostridium disease due to lack of mum's milk as an orphaned lamb (Brother Farmer's theory), OR maybe the neighbour she has been waking up every morning (at 530am by bleating incessantly until she is fed) snuck through the fence and fed her snail bait (thats my current theory, I'm in the angry phase of grieving)
I continued to blubber.
Little Miss said - "Are you crying again?"
Big Brother said - "But there is some good news. We are still alive! We don't have the disease!"
Little Brother said - "Maybe we could get a new pet."
Dad dug a hole for her and we bent her stiff legs to fit. She looked peaceful.
Little Miss - "Why ba-ba sleeping in that hole! Ba-ba getting dirty"
Dad explained dead again, and the process of rigor mortis.
I suggested they pick a flower to throw into her grave.
Big Brother - "I picked a white one because that will remind me of Ba-ba."
Little Miss threw in her purple flower.
Little Brother threw in a grapefruit.
Little Brother - "Perhaps we can get a new pet. How about a seagull?"
Little Miss - "We get a new Ba-Ba? One day?"
Big Brother looked around the lawn - "At least we still have her poo's to remind us of her"
Little Brother - "Maybe if we watch some TV it might get away our sadness".

Inside a while later, they come to me with a card and a soft toy lamb. Big Brother has written me a card, and they have both drawn a picture of Ba-ba on it. The message reads:
'Dear Mum I am sorry to say Baba did but redmder your sill alive. Loev (with an arrow pointing to swap the letters around) from W, F, A and D xoxo

Visiting our old life

There are big events in life that spontaneously cause a fork in the road, such a rapid change in circumstances, your direction changes and you head down a side track you couldn't imagine you'd ever go. At time's it feels like that road you left behind carried on, without you, and you can imagine yourself living the other journey.
I've been a bit hesitant, unsure about bringing those two separate journeys together for us, but after nearly four years, we finally travelled back to where we used to live, touched base with our old life, well all the really good bits, anyway - our friends, the beautiful place we used to live (and none of the not-so-good bits). We went to a magical beach wedding, and the children danced the night away, pulling out all their favourite moves - shuffling, back spins on the floor and gangam style.

Car trips are such great opportunities for chatting, and listening to hours of Roald Dahl stories on CD, and of course, I-spy. Its a serious game in our car, with many quirks - we play i-spy colours, visible or invisible, real or imaginary. Some games take miles and miles, and there are many arguments.
Nine hours in the car each way gave us lots of time to tell stories about my memories of them as babies, and we drove by our old home where Little Brother was born. "So that's where I came out like a rocket!" he said when he saw the house. "I remember now!"

The car is also great for random thinking time.
Little Miss piped up at one stage "Mummy, I have a brown bottom, and  you have a hairy bottom."
"Umm, ok" I was not sure where this one was going.
She continued "But Daddy, ....Daddy has a hairy darse"

Staying with friends is a good way to practise our manners. My children are well behaved only as a result of constant brainwashing - 'Excuse me from the table, Thankyou for the yummy dinner, 'parroted Little Brother one night, adding, "and, we do not wash our pits in the pool of eternal life"

I a zombie princess

This has been the first year we have celebrated Halloween. I've always been a bit Barhumbug about it all, and I've managed to distract Big Brother the last few years by putting him in front of the TV, closing the curtains and pretending not to be home. However it was not to be missed this year. We invited a couple of boys from school to join us, and I bought some face paints, and a skull jar full of edible body parts (hearts, fingers, teeth and eyeballs). They painted themselves up (we are all about the free- styling body art). Big Brother painted a silver hand with a spider web on it. Little brother did a green mask, one green foot and some random gold spots. Little Miss put on her princess outfit and painted a few 'pots' on her face. We put a lead and a skull and cross bones scarf on Baa-Baa (our pet lamb). And, not looking particularly scary - we set off.

I had no idea what a big thing it was! There were lots of families and groups of kids toting bulging sweety treaty bags, intricate costumes and houses with glowing skeletons, graveyards, and cobwebs everywhere. The bay we live in is a very popular trick or treating destination, and I admit that I have changed my mind about halloween, actually, helped by a glass of wine on the way, we had a lovely family night out. They ate way too much confectionery, stayed up way too late, and had just a perfect amount of fun. (Once home i confiscated all the haul and will use them to bribe them all for weeks! Hoorah, Mum always has the last laugh!)

Little Miss has been re-enacting it all week - 'I a zombie princess' she says walking slowly around the garden. I find it almost preferable to her play acting cinderella.

Observant Little People

On a recent trip on the Ferry to Wellington we stopped at Somes Island. Little Miss peered through the salty sprayed windows and spotted a big orange buoy bobbing up and down in the big wet wobbly. ' 'Whats that Mum? '- (Its her favorite question after Why?)
'Its a buoy', I informed her.
'Cool. ' she said (Favorite response after No!) Then pause. Thoughtful look. Puzzled/concerned look. 
'Mum?'
'Yes?'
'Is that boy wearing togs?'

After his stella performance in the school production of 'The Muppets, A Play', which he shone as the Ninja Muppet, Little Brother requested that I get him a Ninja costume. I told him I'd try and get one from a secondhand shop, but when I disappointed him a full 6 hours later ( I mean, what have you been doing with your time Mum?) he had a little think. He's a man who deals in solutions, not problems.
"I know Mum," he said. "you could just knit me one instead."
(Darling thing, he still has such belief in my abilities he is completely undetered by the obvious lack of skill, or knitting).

Yesterday we had such a ball, chasing the Orca's that had cruised into Wellington Harbour to visit. I spotted them in our bay in the morning and Little Miss and I jumped in the car and headed to the reserve to see more. Unfortunately they didn't surface near us again, so I spent about 3 hours telling her 'They must be under the water now"every 10 mins when she asked 'Where orca's gone?"
Driving home from school though we were in luck and from the way the cars were all parked erratically along the verge of the bay, and people were pointing fingers and phones out to sea we knew they must be back. We screeched to a holt and leaped out. Suddenly two fins emerged about 3m from the waters edge. It was very exciting, and then we saw a larger one further out rolling and flapping it's flipper.
Big Brother " THis is so exciting, I've wanted to see an Orca ALL my life! This is the greatest day of my life!"
Little Brother "There's one, it looks exactly like a rock but it's moving so it must be an orca!"
Little Miss " They not under the water now"
And, Little Brother "Can we get closer so we can see what it's face looks like under the water?"
It was magical and we had fish and chips on the wharf hoping for more sightings. I would never have believed they would come that close in, and the thoughts of starting my ocean swimming training suddenly made me feel quite petrified. If I ever see an Orca that close in the water, I'll be sure never to lend you my wetsuit.