Archive for November, 2008



Here, Have some Photos. You’re Welcome.

November 10th, 2008

Hope everybody had a great weekend. Things are extra busy around here, so very quickly, a few photos from the last few days:

The T-Bot. Just got his first loose tooth. Very exciting. It can be hard to live with all teeth firmly cemented in place when you have spent the last few years avidly reading this.

There is one burning question to be answered: “How will the tooth fairy find us?”

Gulp, I wasn’t expecting that one. I answered “The same way as Santa Claus” but I should have stopped to think that one out, because I don’t know how Santa finds us either.

Baby Sister is now eagerly anticipating her first Tooth Fairy visit also. The concept of years is still alien to her, so for her sake I hope she is an early shedder. It is difficult being a middle child, everyone else always gets all the attention.

In the meantime, for two glorious minutes on Saturday, she was the Star of the Show (one of 10 stars actually, but details, details…). She loves being on stage, in fact she loves it so much that she always forgets all her dance moves. But that’s OK. She compensates by ambling around the stage in a very endearing fashion.


And here is my Number Three. Also growing up. It is strange, but also a relief, to no longer have a baby in the house. This weekend he took a break from his usual Ewok impressions to become Obi Wan Kenobi.

Obviously he first had to eat his body weight in M&Ms (I don’t know where he finds them, but they sure do keep him quiet while Mommy is trying to work), have a screaming fit, and be rescued by The Daddy.

The Daddy, by the way, is awesome. He is magic, and I wish he could be around to look after my children all the time. He is like a male Mary Poppins, except he doesn’t clean, fly or sing. Also, he doesn’t wear a dress.



TGIF

November 7th, 2008
Posted in chaos | 3 Comments »

I have absolutely nothing to write because my brain is mush.

In a minute I will give up and go join the kids in the yard, where they are running around scaring each other with paper plates folded in half. Sorry, not paper plates, mouths.

No, they are back indoors. The T-Bot just interrupted me to tape his mouth “mouth” to a cardboard roll, presumably to better scare other children from a distance.

As Baby Sister ran past, she dumped her paper plates and declared me a “mouth-sitter”.

The Wictor found some M&M’s somewhere (I don’t know, it was Halloween a while back, I have been busy, I have been distracted) and dropped them all over the floor. So at least his “mouth” came in useful for scooping them up.

Now T-Bot is riding the cardboard roll, yelling “Giddy-Up, Mouth-horse!” .
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The Daddy will be home in 30 minutes, expecting at the very least a glass of wine with his dinner. He will be disappointed because I didn’t go to the supermarket today.

Are you serious? That would mean changing and combing my hair.

And putting some trousers on The Wictor.
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Have a Happy Weekend!



Science Projects With Some Room for Improvement

November 6th, 2008

While other parents (Eryn being only one example) manage amazing projects with their children, right now I feel like my preparation time is at a premium, so I am going with whatever The T-Bot thinks up on the spur of the moment.

He never recovered from the sheer delight of the volcano we made during summer, and was determined to repeat the experience. So yesterday we did, only this time we made do with whatever materials came to hand, which meant an empty pepper container wrapped in paper and tape. Behold the cheapy volcano!

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Guess which clever person mistook the yellow food coloring for red?
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Yellow Lava is Just as Delightful
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Still, all that froth had the desired effect on the dinosaurs: extinction.
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Here is another of the T-Bot’s projects from yesterday.

Toast.
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As in “We have to leave it for 19 days and see what happens” Toast .

What???? It’s a totally valid scientific experiment!  And thanks to IKEA, I didn’t even have to fork out for a petri dish.



When I said Change, that wasn’t what I meant.

November 4th, 2008
Posted in The Mommy | 2 Comments »

I’m feeling a bit blah today. My oldest friend here, and certainly the one who knows me best, just called to say she is moving in two weeks. To Seattle. And while I can’t think of a better change for her and her family, I am still sad for us.

We don’t see them that often, maybe once a month if we are lucky, but when we do our kids greet each other like family, play together like family - and fight like family. She has been there for me on countless occasions, patiently listening to me through every tiny crisis. I talk a lot if you let me, so she knows 600% more about me and my pathetic issues than I do about her.

Still, while I have other friends, she is the only one I would ever, ever, let see my house in a mess. Not that I ever have, but you know. It’s that kind of friendship.

Friends

Luckily, I still have bloggy friends and aquaintances.

And thanks to a well-timed Tweet from Chookooloonks, at least I remembered to buy the booze for tonight.

So let’s have a drink - or three - and hope for some positive change around here.



You May Be Surprised

November 3rd, 2008

The memes are coming thick and fast! I guess that makes me famous, or something! (Probably the something).

Andrea at Sweet Life tagged me for this one and really, I am one of those people who seems a little bit normal on the surface but really? A little bit weird. So finding seven top secrets or oddities that no-one really knows? Not much of a challenge. Settle in, this promises to be a long post.

1. I used to think deathly thoughts

I was on the lookout for one like this. When I was maybe eight years old I would go to with my little sister to her friend’s house, and while they were playing with, oh I don’t know, dolls or something, I was holed up in the garden shed working my way through the stack of old Australian Womens Weeklys the friend’s mom kept in there. I remember two stories, one about a little girl my age who was bitten by a spider in some remote location and died before reaching hospital, and one about another girl my age who died after a valiant battle with leukemia.

We lived in a remote location and frequently visited even remoter locations (which may or may not have had spiders), and I personally knew two kids who had bone cancer. So of course I developed a morbid and top secret preoccupation with death.

Once another friend’s mother found some mushrooms under their house and insisted on cooking them for dinner that night. I had previously read the book “Is it a Mushroom or a Toadstool” from cover to cover and almost expired right then and there from the thought that I was the only person at that table who had not eaten the toadstools and would therefore soon be the only person living. I would have to watch them froth at the mouth and keel over and then I would have to wait there with all the dead bodies, including my sister’s, while my parents drove for an hour to come get me.

That is the kind of child I was.

I did get over my death watch, but only when I got through childhood and realized I was still alive.

2. I was forced to suffer dark-ages telephony

Between the ages of six and twelve my telephone number was 4 digits long. That was because we were latecomers to town and hadn’t managed to nab a 2 digit number. Even though some people still had party lines. (We had a private line because we were posh).

If you wanted to make a phone call you cranked the handle on the old black bakelite telephone and waited until the operator said “Number please!”.

You think I am kidding. I am not kidding.

We had a field trip to the telephone exchange when I was seven and it looked like this:

Like this only smaller.

Except there were only two ladies and they were not wearing 1930s smocks. Obviously. Where did you think I was living? A museum?

(P.S. Yes. This was the Eighties).

3. When I was 19 I slept in train stations around Europe.

It has all started when I was living in Paris and earning, well, not very much.  Actually, I think nothing because I quit my job. I decided to visit Europe by Eurail. If you are not familiar with the concept, Eurail will sell you a special pass which allows you to ride European trains for a certain period. You pay upfront and then your tickets are free. But I immediately started running out of money. For a start, that free train travel didn’t turn out to be free. Some countries’ rail companies would demand a surcharge, others didn’t seem to recognize the ticket, and then there were all the little regional routes which weren’t included in the deal but turned out to be vital in getting to anywhere the least bit interesting. I had planned to stay in Youth Hostels but by the time I had paid for the bed, the bath towel and bought my daily loaf of bread and pot of Nutella, there was nothing left in my budget to actually visit much.

Obviously not me. Photo for demonstration purposes only.To cut a very long story short, I met a group of young people, who, like me, were traveling around. Except they were not staying in Youth Hostels. I rode trains with them for a while and then branched out on my own, sleeping mostly on the train but sometimes in the little regional stations, usually sitting up to avoid being woken by the station guard. I think there was a law about lying down, to deter tramps. Although they mostly left me alone because I very obviously did not look like a tramp.

(ha ha very funny. moving on. )

How did I manage this? I was 19 and and believed anything was possible. And I slept with a kitchen knife under my makeshift pillow.

4. I Wasted my Mother’s Hard Earned Money on Unnecessary Hair Treatments

I had a 1980s Poodle Perm all the way through high school, which cost my mother a frightening amount of money at the trendiest hairdressers in town. It cost her at regular intervals too, because I had long hair and insisted on getting it corrected each time the roots started to droop.

I was 17 when I started growing it out, and after that I wore it long and straight as was the fashion. (That was also all I could afford, what with my lounging my way around Europe and then becoming a student).

One day only a few years ago my aunt finally recommended I go see her hairdresser. She was good, she had won national competitions. But still never expected her to take one look at my hair and exclaim “you have curly hair!”

Sure enough, once she had cut it properly, I did.

Sorry Mum.

5.  I Am Confused about my Nationality

I am half French, half British. I grew up in the UK and then New Zealand. After I left high school I shuttled back and forth between New Zealand, France and the UK, eventually dragging my husband with me. We live in the US now and we think we’ll stay.

People ask what my nationality is and I still don’t know. I pass for a New Zealander. I make my way in France. Culturally, I am probably most comfortable in Britain. But rather than fitting in in all these cultures I kind of feel like I fit in none. I am at peace with that now. Sometimes it is actually easier to be a foreigner. People forgive you more easily if you get it wrong.

6. I have an atrocious memory.

Please forgive me if I forget your name (or call you Aaaan-Dree-a).

If we are supposed to meet up, I will remember it, but only because I write everything in a little red notebook. By the way, I am a cheap date - but only if your idea of a date is renting a DVD. Unless it was the best movie of all time, by tomorrow I will have forgotten most of the plot and the ending, and you can show it to me again. And again.

The memories are there, my issues are with retrieval, but none of those tricks and tips for remembering things work for me. So I associate you with a giraffe? That won’t help me remember your name unless I also remember that you are a giraffe. Now I have two things to remember.

This is one reason I will never join a book club. If there are more than three characters I can’t even keep them straight in my head while I am reading the book, let alone discuss their motives afterwards.

Maybe someday they will invent a memory pill. In the meantime, I have learned to manage mostly fine without it.

7. I don’t have the same last name as my children

I never took my husband’s last name. I have nothing against it except it is just as boring as my own last name.

Most people assume, but that doesn’t bother me either. I will answer to anything, as long as it is polite.

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That’s it! I stayed up until 2am to finish, so it will have to do. I am too tired now to find someone to tag who hasn’t done this one already. Have you played this one? It’s fun! Let me know if you want to do it!



Don’t Read This if You Find Supermarkets Boring

November 2nd, 2008

Today I went to our local supermarket by myself.

It was a very Twilight Zone kind of experience. The Wictor loves the supermarket, so I usually have at least one child in tow. Today I left him behind. I was feeling in need of a break.

I was feeling in need of a break, so I went to the supermarket, by myself.

As I arrived, I realized that I had been listening to the kids favorite music CD in the car. The one polluted with Dolly Parton, Belinda Carlisle and Nickelback, which is what passes for kids music around here. Too  late,  “Heaven is a Place on Earth” had already finished and “Borderline” was about to start.

I started to park in a “Customer with Child” space as usual, but realized my mistake and had to reverse out and drive to the next vacant spot at the end of the car park.

I was then required to walk at least 200 feet to get to the door of the store, feeling like there was something missing all the way. I am walking funny, I thought to myself. Did one leg suddenly get shorter than the other? Oh! It is just that there is nothing pulling down my arm. Look Ma! Both hands!

A slight moment of anxiety when I noticed there were none of those wonderful car-carts left. Oh. Yeah. Standard cart.

Hey Mister? Why aren’t you giving me a balloon?

Once in the supermarket I settled in for a standard supermarket run. Except… I took my time. I studied packets. I avoided nothing. I parked up in front of the kiddy vitamins for at least 10 minutes and reveled in the decision. Flintstones or Scooby Doo? Barbie or Cars? Hmmm. I could settle in here. It’s very peaceful. Somebody bring me a seat.

Finally at the checkout, instead of fielding requests for Gummi Bears! M&Ms! Lollipops! I bought two of these:

One for me and one for The Daddy.

Sigh. I really know how to live.