Scribbles

As a family of frustrated artists we love The Scribble Book by Herve Tullet.
On this scribbily journey you will learn to draw. What initially is a scribble (did you know a scribble could be lonely) turns into hair, spaghetti, smoke, trees, flowers, snails, fish and even emotions....

However please note that we have had to overcome that inner deep seeded rule/fear to not draw in books to enjoy this. It is so much better than a regular colouring-in-book.

Don't ever be confined by lines!

Available from Amazon

Thank you lego

Dearest B,
 
It's school holiday time again and I have to say I am pretty chilled out about it. Ok your Dad is taking some leave which helps and you have a birthday party to go to and a day in out of school hours care, where you will visit the zoo with some buddies from your class. And yes I know its only really day 1 of the holidays so the chill factor might disappear....






However I have realised you are really enjoying being at home. This is mainly because of lego. You love the stuff. Right now you are taking photos of the things you have made. With the help of your finders, (your Mum and Dad) you have made from scratch a great fire boat. You have followed the instructions with great care. I have heard you counting and saying, "I need a twelver, can you help me find a twelver?"
 
I am really proud of you, you have made it all by yourself.

You even had Little Miss looking for things, but I am not sure if she really helped. You have learnt to place your carefully made pieces up on the kitchen bench out of her reach as she absolutely delights in your treasures.

Well done my little man. 

Let’s have some great times these school holidays.

Love from Mummy
xxx

Hidden fear

Dear Children, 

I am writing this to express how lucky I feel to have you in my life. Just this week you have both forced me to be stronger and braver than I thought I could. You are enabling me to grow as a person and face my fears. Grow up and take hold of my responsibilities - With both hands and a smile.

Ever since the tree of life incident I am more than a little nervous around storms with strong winds. Thunder and lightning don’t really bother me it’s the wind. This is a new and fresh fear, resulting from witnessing a massive gum tree destroy a neighbours house. I know the likelihood of seeing this kind of thing happen again is remote. However as MY eyes have seen it, I know it can happen. My brain has now made a connection with extremely windy days and trees falling down. The image of it happening replays in my mind when the wind picks up. No rational logical thoughts can stop it.

Post traumatic stress - probably, but no one likes to admit they are not doing so well in the head.....

I am embarrassed to say that a really windy day this week had me a little fretful. You were at school B having sport inside a class room because of the rain. And Little Miss you were having your day time nap. I found I was coping fine with the wind situation up till that point.

With Little Miss asleep and not by my side, I didn’t have to put on the brave front anymore. I was alone and my fear got the better of me. My breathing increased. I felt a rush of blood to my head. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Was this a panic attack?

I got the help I needed over the phone from your Auntie. She told me to take some deep breathes, make a strong cup of tea and sit somewhere that I felt safe. She got the facts about the storm from the weather bureau reassuring me that the worst was over. She also made me laugh, something that I love to do with her. The fear passed. She helped me through it.

Little Miss you woke up at your usual time announcing that it was "Pick up brother time.”  Unfortunately my sister was either misinformed or lying (something she is really good at) as the storm seemed to be peaking just as we had to go out and collect B from school.

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the wipers were on full. Sheets of rain whipped at the car. I took deep breathes and concentrated on getting us to school. Glancing back at Little Miss, you seemed totally unaware of the situation. This relaxed me so much. Your naive outlook simply made you state "Rain". I got so much help from that. The last thing I wanted to do was infect you with my own fear.

I parked away from the tall gum trees that seemed to be bending and teasing me with their flexibility. The sound of falling gum nuts on car roofs reminded me of cracking wood. I moved fast, focusing on getting us to the class room. The umbrella seemed pointless. Little Miss, you wiggled on my hip as I attempted to run. I couldn't speak.

The parents waited, huddled together. There was small talk about the timing of the weather. I failed to join in.

Once you were in the car with us B, the rain only got worse for the return journey. We were all wet and a damp smell lingered. Wet trouser pants went cold on our legs. You complained B. I asked you to be quiet so I could concentrate on driving and you both understood.

I tried so very hard not to show you how scared I was. I so desperately wanted to be at home, inside. But the traffic crawled. It was dim. The car fogged up. Sheets of rain now hammered the car. A bright flash electrified the sky. A great metallic sound boomed around us.

"Thunder is the sound of God moving furniture around in heaven." B stated.

This made me smile. Fear hidden.

Thank you

Love from Mummy

xxx

Froggy

Dear Little Miss,

I don’t know what to do? I think I have made a big mistake. To get you and B to eat up all your dinner I have inadvertently caused a big problem. The bribes that I have used, are it seems, not the right thing to do at all. The treats that have been given when clean plates are presented to me at the end of a meal are wrong, very wrong. 

I became aware of this problem when I heard other mothers talking about plates of fruit at the end of the meal. Gosh I thought, that sounds fantastic, but you and B wouldn't have it. No. The treat boxes must appear. Boxes of goodies. A box each with a choice inside. B prefers the boiled hard sugar lolly type treat. These are small, and I tell myself and he works hard for it. Many a piece of green veg has disappeared without any fuss, because of that treat box. 

But Little Miss you are a different kettle of fish. At two, I know you know what's going on, but you like to test the water anyway, just to see. To see if I am made of the tough Mum stuff or the soft Mum stuff.

Your defiance not to eat your meal had to be met with,
"No treat for you."

The stand off lasted 30 minutes. The crying and screaming was tremendous. But I am proud that I stood my ground. Tough Mum was determined. The treat box rules where not broken. To get a treat you must eat your dinner. 

The tantrum reached its peak when B received his treat box. We tried not to rub it in your face and he was allowed to eat his lolly on the couch. But you kept pushing your plate away. I would repeat my words over and over again returning your plate to you.


 
"To get a treat you need to eat your dinner."
"Chocolate foggy" you would say with tears.
"Yes, when you eat your dinner."
 
I waivered and nearly gave in, not sure if the concept was just too much for your two year old brain. Soft Mum tried to make a stand.

Did you really understand?

Dad was called in for back-up. Unfortunately we lost more time when there was a few accusations about giving in that we apparently had to discuss, but as a united front we succeeded. 

Once Daddy told you the same message you knew there was no other options or ways about getting a chocolate foggy.

So you got to it and ate your dinner.

There was much praise and relief that night.
 
I was very proud of you, that you understood what you had to do. I was proud of your Dad and I, we stood our ground and enforced the rule. United in our mission we all reached our goal.

"There's a chocolate foggy in my Tummy," you stated once the frog was consumed. 

But on reflection this is all so wrong. Why do I have this monkey on my back now? The wars of the treat box seem to have really been won by the children, because the treats are there for them.

The Treat box will have to get a bit boring. Fruit based treats might creep in and take over the sugar supremacy. My guilt about feeding a two year old chocolate could get me shopping for carob - of all the things. 

At the end of the day I have to weigh up the benefits of a green bean (happy mother) against the damage of a chocolate frog (happy child).

Love from your confused Mother
xxx

The WANT monster

Is it human nature to always want more than you've got? 

I dont need anything, yet I have to continually tell myself to be happy with what I've got. 

I remind myself often that I've got more than I need and I don't actually need anything. It's all wants not needs. But lets face it, my needs are met as well.

So why do I want more?

B wants more and more toys, he's already got too many.

His Dad wants more books, he also has way too many.

Little Miss wants more and more cuddles, well that's ok I've got plenty to give her, but she also wants chocolate frogs to eat all the time.

And I want more garden, something that requires moving. None of us want to move house.

So I go on wanting and trying to curb the want. I think about why it's good to have a small garden.

A small garden can make a big visual impact.

They are easy to maintain, I'm not spending lots of time in the garden (even though that's what I want to be doing).

A small garden feels more private and intimate.

Water isn't wasted on a small garden.

The kids are only little and really don't need to run around on acreage.

All the houses in this area have small gardens, that's what you have to compromise on when you live walking distance to a city.

A small garden cannot be a home for a pet dog (do I really want to lose that excuse and have a dog to look after - no I don't).

I have to be happy and contented with what I have, and I thought I was getting close. I had stopped continually looking on realestate.com.au for another house with a bigger garden. Only a few days ago I heard myself think how much I love living here. So what changed?

I visited a friend with the most amazing huge garden.

The problem is that I know bigger gardens are out there.

It exists, therefore I want it.

So the only reason I want a bigger garden is because other people have them.

B only wants more toys because the toys are in the shops waiting.

Little Miss only wants more cuddles because..well... she needs them... and so do I.. so thats ok....


but the chocolate frogs are in the cupboard, there to be eaten.

Their Dad only wants more books because Amazon keeps suggesting them to him.

Maybe ignorance really is bliss. The want monster wont be able to get you if you don't know what to want.

Image by Fernandez

 




Note:
To try and help my wants and wanting I have started another blog titled The Want Monster. I am posting all the things I want on it. There are things like accessories and swimming pools as well as emotional things like wanting to be a supermum. Basically its just a record of what I want.

Currency

What's your currency?





















 


Unlike a country, B's currency changes. As his mother it is my job to keep up to date with this currency otherwise I may as well be the sofa. I need to know what his latest 'thing' is to use in the complicated negotiations required to get him to do what I want him to do.

Leading up to Christmas during November and December, Santa's name gets dropped a lot. An elaborate story has been developed about how all parents know the phone number to Santa and his helper elves. This story is well told in our house and is used to remind B that unless he is good, we will make the call and cancel all his Christmas presents. (Pretty nasty really, but it works)

Other currencies have been special up and coming activities, last month there was a school disco that enabled me to keep B from taking his shoes off in the playground, treat his little sister with more respect, eat various green things and sit down for 10 minutes in a cafe.

Right now he loves playing iPhone games. We have tried not to encourage computing gaming in our house, mainly because of the violence. But there comes a time when A) you just give in, B) you start to think they need some exposure to technology and C) you want to play them too. So the iPhone game Enigmo is now the thing.

He loves it and wants to play it all the time. And it is actually a pretty cool game. You have to get water from one vessel into another by using all kinds of contraptions. So at least he is problem solving, and he is building his confidence as he succeeds and gets to try a new level.

But the best thing is that right now he is having a day time sleep (Major Miracle) just to get some more time playing.

Here is a review/demo of Enigmo if your interested.





But what will the currency be next week?


Images Poeten Sofa by Finn Juhl from Retro to go and Enigmo on the iPhone from Apple.

Secret language

There is a secret language happening right under our feet.

These images were taken in and around Port Adelaide. I love the randomness and the mystery of the symbols. There is a reference to an underground world. The colour palette is restrained. Secret street art born from underground goings on.

View Larger Map

Rules

Isn't life hard enough?




















I came across this trolley's set of rules at a brand spanking new supermarket. It didn't make me cross, in fact it made me laugh out loud as I thought of the BBC TV series The Vicar of Dibley.

One of the most lovable character's Jim Trott, answers every question he is asked in exactly this way.

"No no no no...yes"



Interestingly it usually works out well for him.

Is he now involved with the Foodland supermarket chain? Could the trolley manufacturers have missed every episode and multiple series of the Vicar of Dibley and not noticed any similarities?

Are they just trying to make us mums laugh?

Or is it just boring butt covering rules for use that no one apart from a legal head thought about?

Well at least it made me laugh and became some blog fodder.

Dad

Dear Dad,
Happy Father's Day (you didn't think I could go past father's day on my blog did you??) No need to be grumpy or worried.

I just want to say thank you.

Thanks for always being kind, always being consistent and always being loving

Thanks for accepting me for who I am (eventually)
 


Thanks for all the tickles
  
Thanks for the amazing stamp collection (every Australian stamp issued from 1966-1985)

Thanks for always treating me with total respect

Thanks for letting me know when I had gone too far

Thanks for finding amusement when it needed to be found

Thanks for being an honest critic

Thanks for passing on the drawing gene

Thanks for being the best Bumper ever (the kids love and adore you)

Thanks for surprising me with answers I didn't expect

Thanks for beating me at cards

Thanks for being my Dad - I love you.

With love from your daughter

xxx

All the feeling which my father could not put into words was in his hands - any dog, child or horse would recognise the kindness of it
- Freya Stark


To her the name of father was another name for love
- Fanny Fern

You will always be your child's favourite toy
- Vicky Lansky

Quotes from 'Father love' by PQ Blackwell



















Image from my wedding day, a special moment with Dad.

MeMe Award

I am very chuffed to receive the MeMe Award from Hybrid J. Thank you very much.


This award comes with RULES which are to:

1) Share 7 tidbits about yourself

2) Share the MeMe blog award with 7 blogger friends

I think this is a little bit "Chain Letterish" so I would like to make Rule 2 optional for my awardees. (Apologies to the maker of the MeMe award.)

Here are my 7 tidbits:

1) I am addicted to playing Wii Tennis.

To think we had the Wii for months before we got around to plugging it in, all that wasted time. I love to play, its warmed me up on many a cold night. I have finally achieved 'professional' tennis status, however it's been at a cost, as sadly no family members will play with me anymore.

2) During June and July (my winter) I didn't shave my underarm hair once, and I liked it.

I am not sure what prompted this. Laziness most likely, but it seemed like a good idea to really get to know myself. And as I had never let the hair grow much before, I thought it was about time. Some of you will be grossed out others will think nothing of it. It was interesting and I will probably do it again.

3) The smell of the sea makes me relax.

If you have ever been jealous of people with a beach house, its worthwhile jealously. We are very lucky to have a retreat near the sea to go to. Each and every time we go there we all relax, especially the husband. As soon as I get a snifter of that salty air my shoulders drop and I let go. We love it in summer, swimming, boogie boarding, BBQs, long days, sand in between the toes, sunsets, heat, the smell of sunscreen, G&T, cold beer, light cotton clothes. And we love it in winter, the sound of rain on the roof, the energy of wind, cosy inside, blankets on the beds, coats and hats, fresh cold air, all eating toast and jam in bed together, crashing waves with white horses racing, a seaweeded beach. Whatever time of year it's all good.

4) A long time ago I went to art school

I was 18 and I liked to draw and take photos. Apparently I was good enough to get in. When I used to draw it was like meditation. Total focus and concentration no intrusive thoughts and an image at the end of it. I hate that I can't fit it into my life presently, I will come back to it one day. Writing is my creative outlet now. When I haven't had a creative outlet, my life has been very miserable and not really working for me.

5) I can make really good monkey noises

It's a great claim to fame, isn't it? The kids love it, others hate it, particularly my brother (because he thinks I am teasing him for looking like a monkey) In the Adelaide botanic gardens my sister and I had a lot of fun making monkey noises in a tropical jungle area. More than a few passers by were intrigued.

6) Not only are the books in my house arranged by colour my clothes are too.

This is not because I am a well organised anal personality, far from it. It is because I try very hard NOT to wear black everyday. I like wearing black, it looks better and I cant go past that, however I find it depressing. Organising my clothes by colour reminds me of all the other options that are better for me. And it sometimes works.

7) Even though I can't, I would love to wear high heeled shoes.

I think high heeled shoes are beautiful and sexy. They look great, as that is what they are designed for. However in my opinion they are not designed for walking in, just looking at. I can't wear them as my feet are not in the best shape anymore. Sadly I buy shoes that are comfortable without being Grandma 's shoes. Some of you who know me will not agree and will think my shoes are Grandma's, but at the end of the day I am not in pain. And that is important to me.


I am really glad to receive this award. I have now drawn an image of me as a hairy tennis playing monkey, wearing grandma's shoes who sorts clothes after a visit to the beach. Perfect.













And my 7 winners (Who may have received this award before, but I give it with no obligations) are:

Peggy
Because you always have something sensible to say

Roban
For bringing tears to my eyes

The Thrifts
For trying to do a very honourable thing with honesty which is also highly amusing

We make words
Because of your originality and creativity with words

Ladybird Lane
To say thank you for B and Little Miss's Christmas Stockings, you are way too clever with a needle.

Red Robin Land
For capturing beautiful moments

Jezrael
For your advice and help. Thank you