Life update..

Every now and then I like to share a quick list of things that I know and things that I don’t know.

I now declare that it’s that time again.

Things I know number one…

My husband is not a morning person. This was far less obvious when he was traveling a lot for work.

Just in case you ever run into my husband before 8am you should remember to not speak to him or make direct eye contact.

If he grunts at you it’s best to smile and wish him a pleasant day.

A consequence of this discovery is that I get the kids ready before I go to work and he looks after the dreaded bed time so it’s really not such a bad thing.

Things I know number two.

Sometimes you get bitten on the chin by a small child at work.

This is far more likely if you actually work with children.

It hurt a bit and I informed the child’s mum at pick up time and showed her the bruise on my face.

Then I felt bad because as the mother of a child with special needs things will never be easy for her and he will need her to look after him forever.

And forever is a long time after my bruise will have faded.

Things I know number three.

I have never known any of the people on the Crime Stoppers pictures. I feel that this is really hampering my efforts to help the community and contribute to catching criminals.

However it does spare me a lot of paperwork and possibly a stint as a witness in a murder trial.

Things I don’t know…

I don’t know where my friend got her lovely wooden spoons with the silicone handle tips.

I’ve googled them but I can’t find them. I should probably just ask her.

I should also feel rather smug at the fact that locating silicone handled wooden spoons are my biggest dilemma at the moment.

Things are going well.

I’m tired from this whole getting up, going to work and being forced to drink fake Nespresso pod coffee thing.

But I’m thrilled that I can wear my lovely blue overalls and my shoes with the flowers on them and get paid to spend time talking and listening to children.

The kids and their comments delight me.

A little girl (probably my favourite) told me she saw seven people get aten by sharks at a swimming pool.

While I was talking about how my grandfather fought in World War 2 she was far more interested in how old he was when he died and what he died from.

Kids are blunt, unfiltered and silly.

Much like me.

And that’s a quick recap of what I know and what I don’t know. xx


1,440 minutes to go.

Earlier this afternoon, well at 3:56 pm to be precise I asked my kids how many minutes it was until bedtime.

I then reminded the kids that because we woke up early this morning and we’d need to wake up early again tomorrow morning that bedtime was at 7:30.

Not negotiable.

They tried.

I then calculated that it was 214 minutes until bedtime.

Since then I have felt and lived (auto correct changed that to loved, what does it think I’m crazy) every single minute.

I’ve done a food shop that included ice creams, custard, Minions tictacs and tennis balls.

Funnily enough I just wanted to buy bananas and almond milk.

I’ve made small pikelets for afternoon tea and large pancakes to be reheated for breakfast in the morning.

Pancakes on a school morning are a shameless incentive to be dressed and ready to go before 7am.

I’ve made and packed the school lunches.

I cooked a healthy dinner for the kids and a healthier one for me.

I’ve swept up corn that was flicked across the room at dinner time and a couple of peas that were hiding from last nights dinner.

I vacuumed up the glass from the little hour glass that broke when my 6 year old thought he’d help me by sweeping in a ferocious manner.

I have school clothes and work clothes laid out for the morning.

I’ve done the dishes and put on a load of washing to hang out after the boys are asleep.

I feel like I am my own hero.

I get stuff done.

I am also slightly O.C.D and my house has never looked better.

I am also now worrying that I myself will fall asleep before the 7:30 bedtime allotted to the small people.

My own 7:45pm bedtime is looking like an achievable goal though.

I am as organised and as tired as I can be.

Now to actually enforce the going to bed bit without turning into a tired, screaming witch like creature.

I have 10 minutes to go.

Then I have to listen to my 6 year old read, listen my 8 year old whinge that he never gets to go in my bed and listen again to the 6 year old now complaining that it’s hard for him to go to sleep.

And if all else fails I’ll play dead and wait for them to start snoring.

The good news is that I get to do it all again at the same time tomorrow.

Or in just 1,440 minutes.


The holiday is over baby…

I’m back from my much anticipated holiday.

I’m guessing that coming home and going back to work gets everyone down.

Probably shouldn’t have gone on the holiday in the first place.


We had an amazing time.

When the kids weren’t fighting that is. Which was a lot. But that probably comes from being stuck together all day and night.

I got to hold hands with my kids a lot.

I got to scream loudly on roller coasters.

And mutter rude words under my breath and roll my eyes when we drove the wrong way again.

I ate Welsh cakes in Wales, crepes in France, cheese and jam on toast in Denmark and porridge in a take away cup in the rain in Edinburgh.

We saw lots of old castles and marveled at beautiful green hills.

My youngest son randomly ran off the tube on our first day in London, nearly got hit by a car outside Paris and went up a different escalator to us and ended up on a different platform at a busy train station.

He also refused to walk on the right and walked into every second person on the street and a lady on a scooter.

We lost our eldest son for 10 minutes in a 5 storey toy store.

If I’d been wearing a heart monitor it probably would have shown that it was not the most relaxing holiday.

But we had fun.

It’s strange how you make memories that other people have already made but with your own flavour added to them.

I’m not the first person to see the Mona Lisa or the Eiffel Tower. It’s not a big deal. But it was for me.

I loved walking down cobble stoned streets and it didn’t take long before I would only stop to take a photo of something at least 400 years old.

The history was amazing.

The coffee was bad.

You can’t have good coffee and old buildings apparently.

Probably something to do with the way they store their beans in their drafty castles.

In Paris we ran into the same lady two days in a row near the Louvre which isn’t that strange but we also saw a family at Disneyland that had shared a trampoline with us the day before.

It’s a small world after all.

In Edinburgh the first person I spoke to was Australian. At a cafe in Bath I chatted to a lady that used to live 10 minutes away from us.

Real life is back with full force now.

4 loads of washing done and sorted. Not yet put away but that’s not unusual in our house.

I’ve had an amazing 3 weeks, taken lots of photos and bought more than the usual amount of tacky souvenirs.

If you didn’t get a postcard it was because I didn’t send you one.

But I’m free for coffee again now if you wanna catch up.


No two days the same…

It’s been a mixed bag at work for me so far this week.

I have been bitten, told that I have a nice face and had an in depth conversation with a girl about her dad and how he had an operation on his bum.

I had a meeting where I was told that I’m a good preschool teacher and another meeting about a boy who struggles to speak but gives the best running and jumping cuddles ever.

My colleague is on the 5:2 diet and yesterday was one of her fasting days which is just a barrel of laughs for everyone.

I yelled at a child to stop before she walked in the concrete that was laid yesterday but she didn’t stop which scares me when I think what she’d be like in an emergency.

I made damper which was edible but would have been awesome with jam and cream.

I sang the stretchy Lycra song 3 times and played the hide the shoe game.

I hid in the office behind a cupboard door and gently scoffed mint cream biscuits.

I told a dad that I would go to court with him if he needed me to.

And all this happened while a new girl who only arrived from India last week started at the centre. She was sent to live with her grandmother before she was one and has just returned to the country and her parents.

So in the scheme of things she is going through a lot more than me but we both seem to be coping quite well.

Gene pool reflections…

I am the mother of 2 boys.

I remember when the youngest was born and people said to me “two the same”.

Nah. Not even close.

These boys are very different from each other. But not different from me.

I see so much of myself in both of them.

The youngest is wacky, zany and silly. He thinks way outside the square.

He has my oddness.

But my eldest son has my sensitivity and my need to please.

At school he is the happy kid that everyone wants to play with and the teachers love.

And then he comes home and crashes because it’s hard to be happy all day.

Last night we were having a chat at bedtime and he gave me a cuddle and I asked if he was okay.

He shook his head. Are you sick? No. Is something wrong? No. Are you sad? Yes.

He was sad and didn’t know why.

I told him it was okay to just have a cry sometime and he started to sob.

He cried for about 5 minutes and then he stopped and just started talking about normal stuff.

And of course it broke my heart. The sadness in him.

Maybe he was just over tired but he needed permission to cry.

It wasn’t all that long ago when I didn’t like myself that much that I didn’t really like my kids either.

I loved them and would do anything for them but I didn’t really like them.

And now I do. So much.

I admit a major bias when I say that they are amazing and fill my heart to overflowing every day.

I miss them now when we’re apart.

I still like being apart though.

These people I had a fairly significant part in creating are wonderful.

I love them and I love seeing myself in them.

I hope they keep loving themselves too.


With friends like these… I’ll be okay.

Well would you look at that…

I just had the most delightful dinner with a friend that I haven’t seen for close to 5 years.

She is gorgeous this lady. Inside and out.

We chatted over the spinach lamb dish.

I walked her to the tram stop and we hugged.

We talked about lots of things. We seem to be feeling a lot of the same things. We share the same frustrations.

We also both know that we’re incredibly lucky to have what we have.

And what do we have?

We have healthy happy children who drive us mad with their idiosyncrasies and neediness but fill our hearts with love… usually when they’re asleep.

We have husbands who work hard and travel lots to provide for their families but are good at what they do and let us know that we’re loved.

We have dreams of more and desires to be better than just mothers and wives but we know that we’re doing okay.

So what do I know now that I didn’t know 3 hours ago?

I know that I’m okay. That I’m not alone. That friends are worth their weight in gold even if you have to get on a plane to see them. That people who are like you and listen to you and make you laugh are a gift to be treasured.

And whether its a friend from far away or a friend who brings you bolognese or a friend who laughs at you because you’re up late with your cat watching cricket, friends are precious.

I was asked today who my friends are and I said that I wasn’t sure anymore.

But they seem to know who I am and are doing a damn good job of looking after me and for that I’m thankful.

Green, green grass of home…

So… I haven’t pointed out lots of really obvious things for a while.

Probably time to change that because I just checked and I’m pretty sure that the grass is greener over there.

I’m not the most observant person but when I look around me at the moment I have noticed that I have friends trying to lose weight and friends trying to gain weight.

I see people who want to be married and people who wish that they weren’t.

People with kids who want time away from them and people without kids who are desperate to have a child in their lives.

The grass is greener over there.

Real green. Possibly too green.

Could be AstroTurf?

Either that or they’re using tank water.

Take care. Be grateful. Paint your grass if needed.