Archive / October, 2012

Teapots fix everything

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So yesterday was interesting.

First, Pal was called into work around 4:30am because his apprentice’s brother had been in a car accident (he’s ok, in case you are wondering).

Then Roo, who had found her way into our bed yet again, woke and decided to play hide and seek with my blankets. At 5am.

After giving up on any chance of returning to sleep (at 6:30am – I really did give ignoring her a good hot shot) I got up and decided to release the Two from their prison.

Known as their bedroom. Filled with toys. Complete with a trampoline – otherwise known as two mattresses on the ground.

As I opened the door, I heard Fraser singing.

The song all mothers dread to hear.

“I poo, I poo, I poo!”

And in the split second before I opened the door fully, I honest to goodness thought I was just going to have to change a rather unpleasant nappy.

Oh how naive I was.

There, sitting in the middle of his bed (aforementioned mattress on the ground), was my eldest son (by 40 seconds).

Completely, utterly, starkers.

He had managed to wrangle his way out of his sleeping bag, his big softie pajamas, his clip up suit underneath, and his nappy.

In order to poo all over his bedroom floor.

And you know what I thought?

Thank goodness he ate all those bananas yesterday.

By 7am all the children were fed and I proceeded to dress them and get Roo ready for her day at daycare.

By 8:30 we were wandering down to her school and picking as many flowers as possible on the way.

Because Pal had left for work so early, he had forgotten to get the correct pram out of the boot of the car and so I decided that seeing as we were, for once, early for dropping the girl at school, we would head over, say hi to Daddy and do the pram swap dance.

Big mistake.

In the process of the pram swap dance I managed to offend my husband mightily.

At which point he yelled at me in front of both customers and colleagues and threw his bread rolls all over the ground.

In his defense, he was exhausted and I had forgotten to do something he had repeatedly asked me to do.

And, being the gracious and cool headed wife we all know me to be – *ahem* – I took his bank card and wandered down the street to buy myself a new teapot.

Because that will teach him!

That evening, when he asked me about the new addition to my teapot collection (and had apologized for the outburst), and why it was necessary, I told him exactly how and why that teapot now sits on my kitchen bench.

And that, ladies, is how revenge is best served.

As tea.

Still sniffing the roses

The girl is making me smile big this week.

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“Rapunzel tower Mum!”

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“Here’s your crown. Now you take a photo?”

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3 year old selfies

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Cheesy smiles and picking flowers for the “girls” at “the big dubba-yoo”

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Joy

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While I’m taking it easy here on the blog, I’d love it if you could head over to Precious Hearts’ Facebook page.

They are currently looking for businesses who’d like to be involved in their November auction to raise funds for families effected by Congenital Heart Disease.

Precious Hearts has been an amazing support for our family as we’ve navigated the waters of Oscar’s CHD, and Traci – the founder of Precious Hearts – is an inspirational and incredibly generous woman.

If you have a business or would just like to share the love, please contact Precious hearts via email or their Facebook page.

Help spread the word to help families dealing with CHD.

Project: Smell the Roses

I’ve decided that it’s time.

Time to focus on the positives.

And what that means, is that it’s time for me to get over myself.

Yes, I am having a rough time.

But no, life is not terrible.

In fact, life is pretty dang amazing.

So I am taking time to notice the small things. Appreciate the mundane. Find the beauty in the everyday.

And here’s what’s making me stop, take notice, sit up and SMILE.

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Sunny days

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New nieces

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Lemon Meringue Cake (not pie). Recipe can be found here (I just omitted the limes).

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Pretty new mugs, hanging in a row

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Pots of tea, left for me to wake up to

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Running in search of puddles on the first sunny day after rain

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Pretty little heads resting the same way. Even if only for 10 minutes

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Clouds shaped like tea pots

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Ears. Same, but different. Just like my boys

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Progress. Stitch by stitch. Row by row. Square by square.

Progress.

What’s making you smile today?

Somebody that I used to know.

I’m stuck.

There’s a wall.

I have so many things that I want to say, that need to be said.

But I remain silent. Here anyway.

This website sits empty, abandoned.

And I wonder, really, if  anyone would mind if I just left it here.

My own little space of calm, where nothing new is happening.

Where all the beautiful moments from the past 18 months are written and laid out. For all to read.

But mostly for me to remember.

And I am loathe to post anew, for fear that I will forget some of the old.

I don’t know what happened to me.

When Rory was a babe, I inhaled motherhood.

I couldn’t have been happier. I was in my element. Breastfeeding, baby wearing, co-sleeping. Playing, singing, dancing. Walking with her, reading to her, loving her.

She was my world and made me matter.

I’m sure there were bad days. I know there were. But they were so few and far between that my memory of her first year is hazy with sunlight and kisses.

Milky-breathed kisses and naps in the afternoon sunlight.

And when the twins and I came home, my life shifted. Changed.

But it wasn’t bad. My life, despite many challenges and a childhood from a midday women’s channel movie about divorce, has never been bad.

And yet I find myself here now, wishing for the days of sleepy snores and soul-soaring smiles.

It’s taken me until now to really recognise the feeling.

Of not enjoying motherhood.

And somehow, I have to find her again. That mother.

Perhaps a little less naive. Perhaps a little more understanding.

But finding her again, that mother – that woman who could breathe. The woman with a sense of humour.

It’s all important.

And this blog – it sits here, with its words. And reminds me  of who I used to be.

And who I want to be again.