Something unexpected

(Readers of delicate disposition may wish to exercise judgement before proceeding...).

So, what do you think this is?







It began when I was cleaning out my filing cabinet. I found a plastic bag marked "biohazard". How odd, I thought to myself. What on earth could be in here?






Ewww! Ewan's umbilical stump!


Although isn't it just a fascinating....thing...

Isabelle assisted by digging out a little hole in Ewan's pot.





And the mummified stump was reunited with the rest of its - stuff. Placenta remains I guess, although I hope they are long gone.





Ah, that's better!

Shake

Cleaning the toilet is not my favourite job. It has a kind of inherent yuck factor that I can't seem to shake by thoughts of practicality or bacterial counts.

However, while cleaning the toilet last weekend, I was very pleased to have a toilet to clean, and extremely pleased to pay rates for a working sewerage system.

Mother Nature sure knows how to focus the mind.

Slice of (real) life

I've read in at least two different places recently that reading people's blogs can get quite depressing. Understandably, people tend to blog about things that they are proud of - things that are going great! So blogland is full of immaculate houses and month-long meal plans, happy, creative and peaceful children, vibrant living and amazing crafts.

So for something a little bit different, here's a snippet of a day as seen by Aidan.

I realised that Aidan had taken 59 photos. So I flicked through them and discovered that he had taken some picture of a block construction he had made.



A few close ups of this and that - balances, characters etc.





Sister.



And Ewan. No! Babies are not allowed in the dvds! (What? No, of course that is not a copy of Breaking Dawn. It is a Very Intellectual book about....chess. Yes. Chess).



Time to dismount.



And...ooo! A camera case. (Babies are not allowed to touch the camera case). Orla seems displeased.





Nooooo!








(Edits several photos).

Humph.




Mummmm! (Where is Mum anyway?! Shouldn't some positive guidance be being provided?)



(Will I be in trouble?)



Oh there she is! Scrubbing around on the floor picking up the lunch left overs. And probably the breakfast left overs. And probably the left overs from last night's dinner too.






(No! Don't seem to be in trouble!).





And that's it. Nothing else happened. No crafts, outings, extended conversations, witticisms, baking.

But definitely some cool block work.

Purrrrrrr

Ahhhhhh.....new slippers.

"Are they made of real leopard skin Mummy?"

Life education

I was really pleased to see that the empty little shop down the road had been leased out. I could see that the new tenant was renovating the inside, and we wondered what kind of shop it would be. And - hooray! - it was not a pizza shop, but a beautician. I will admit to being partial to the odd facial and the like. This was great timing as I have recently abandoned my old beautician (due to poor service) and have been looking around for an alternative.

I was really hoping that they would be good - so convenient to just walk down to the end of the road rather than fussing over bus timetables or car parking or drop-offs etc.

So, I was booked in this morning for a pre-Christmas underarm and bikini line wax. Aidan decided that he wanted to come with me - why not I thought. And thus was Aidan admitted to the inner sanctum of womanhood, a place where few owning Y chromosomes have gone before. He brought his pocket-sized whoopee cushion along too (something no five-year-old boy should be without).

He was quite interested in what was happening (even though he couldn't see much). I took care to tell the beautician that Aidan had brought this toy (because farts during bikini-line waxes are so not the correct etiquette). And yes, regular farty noises were made. But I assure you, it WASN'T ME.

And that was that. All over in fifteen minutes, a good job done and a small discount on the regular price. I had to say whoopee! to that.

(Of course that wasn't the end of the story. Aidan announced during our early Christmas dinner with the in-laws that Mummy went to the beauty shop and got her hair SHAVED OFF HER SKIN under her arms and HERE BY HER GIRL BITS. I really think my BIL wished he had put his fingers in his ears at that point! At least it's the holidays, otherwise it may have been shared with the class for Special News).

Second day of school holidays

Ancient mother

Aidan (singing): It was a night like this,40 million years ago....
Me (singing): ...when your mother was born!
A: Really?
M: What?
A: You were born 40 million years ago?
M: What do you think?
A: Ummmm....yes!
M: Not quite! How old am I?
A: Ummmmm. Thirty......
M: Yes, thirty....how old is Isabelle?
A: Seven!
M: So I'm....
A: Twenty seven.
M: Thirties remember.
A: Seventy three.
M: Other way around.
A: Thirty seven!
M: Yes!

(It was Walk the Dinosaur, Was (Not Was) - original version. I wonder if Aidan is a visual learner - his response to my questions implies he was seeing the numbers in his head).

Oh I just remembered that this is an extra special birthday for suburban neurosis!

Kitchen bling

Oh yeah.

The Division of Labour

My day is currently divided into two groups of activities:

1. Things I Can Do Wearing the Front Pack, and

2. Things I Can Not Do Wearing the Front Pack.

For example, in group one we have:
- Hanging out the washing
- Chopping the vegies
- Unloading the dishwasher
- Folding the washing.

And in group two:
- Cleaning the toilet
- Cooking on the stove top
- Having a shower
- Sleeping.

Happily, blogging appears to be in group one.

Night visitors

Spider! Spider! turning right
To the bedrooms late at night.
What mere mortal eye could spy
You creeping out there on the sly.

Check out this post from Alan on a rather large type of spider that seems to enjoy lurking around our suburb.

As you can see from his blog, I myself had a close encounter with one of these creatures in the early hours of the morning recently. These spiders seem particularly large at 3.00 a.m.

I made sure that for the rest of the night, I walked around wearing my jandals, NOT my bare feet. Crunch. Shudder.

Which is a good excuse to post a picture of my new jandals. Pretty pretty!

More momentous events

- I had some COFFEE (after around 9 months abstaining).
- I had a small sip of BEER (Epic Mayhem).
- I did everything on my "to do" list today.
- Orla let me comb her hair!

Ships that pass in the night

I think Ewan finally settled for the night at about 4.00 am. I think I may have got about an hour's sleep before this - hard to be sure. And then another three or so before he woke for his morning feed at seven.

Meanwhile, in the room next door, not everything was quiet. Poor Aidan was vomiting in the night. These are the times when I am immensely grateful that there are two adults in the family. Brendon and I would occasionally meet in the hallway or bathroom at some early hour in the morning, one clutching a vomity cotton flat, the other a little bowl of water for nappy changes.

So Orla went to Playcentre by herself this morning with no blood relative (just her nominated caregiver Susan, as she is too young yet to be officially dropped off). She happily said goodbye to me and eagerly trotted off with big sister and Daddy. Apparently she settled well and had a good session. She is now sleeping off her exertions.

Aidan is lying listless on the chair, having had a good sleep. Ewan is also sleeping peacefully (and will probably have to be waken for his next feed!).

Hope to get a nap later this afternoon.

Thanks for the heads up

Oh! It feels like there's a bit of a wet patch on this seat. Just where I'm sitting.

Yes Mummy. That's where the cat vomited.

(Pause). Oh.

Saturday night in

It's very quiet here at the moment.

Aidan and Orla are asleep on the couch, having cunningly evaded my attempts to get them to go to sleep in their beds. I think I've lost my touch (if I ever had it!).

Orla fell asleep in my arms. Given that I can't lift her yet, this was always going to present some problems with getting her into her cot. Luckily, I had the foresight to sit on the couch rather than my favourite breastfeeding chair, so it was just a matter of wiggling out from underneath her and repositioning her cuddle rug.

Aidan wanted to stay up until Daddy got home. He was asleep within minutes, curled up next to Orla. He has since been joined by Houdini.

Brendon and Isabelle are at the ballet. This was not exactly how I had planned it. I was supposed to be 37 weeks pregnant, and this was supposed to be a special mother-daughter outing - Isabelle's first real ballet show.

I booked the tickets about an hour before my waters broke.

However, special father-daughter time is no bad thing. Neither is staying at home looking after three precious bundles (and one precious fur-bundle).

Maybe next year for the show.

A mothering conundrum

I wake up at around 5.30. My nose is a little blocked. Simple - reach for a tissue.

However...

Aidan is lying on my right near the edge of the bed. If I try and reach up and over him to the tissue box on the floor, I risk waking him, pushing him off the bed, or smothering him with my pendulous belly.

Complicating matters further, the peacefully sleeping Orla (spread across to my left) has a large handful of my hair firmly grasped in her hand.

I breathe through my mouth.

Taste off

On Labour Day, while Brendon was working...we made a chocolate cake.

On the left, we have the shop-bought chocolate cake that Aidan slipped into the trolley while I pretended not to notice. (It was bought the day before we made ours, hence it is not whole).

On the right, our cake, complete with child-applied 100s and 1000s and chocolate hail.

The verdict was:

Shop-bought preferred - 0
Home-made preferred - 4
Both rated equal - 1

I therefore declare our home-made job the winner!

Of course, it normally looks like this.

Take a look at this photo (admittedly a couple of weeks old now). It is approximately five past six in the evening. Observe the clean and uncluttered floor. Note the large pile of washing which is not on the couch, but which instead is sitting folded in drawers. See the small girl luxuriating in the unrestricted rolling space.

Sadly, yes this was worth taking a photo of!

Able I was.....

...ere I saw Elba.

Our latest acquisition is installed in the kitchen after the last fridge/freezer threatened to die (and had a funny smell).

I do not know why it is named after a Tuscan island.

A Busy Day for the Suburban Housewife

Busy busy.

Get children ready to leave the house.

Drop first born at school. Drop second born at another Playcentre Mum's house to take on the Playcentre trip. Take third born to Playcentre with me. Work at Playcentre. Clean Playcentre in the wake of my toddler tornado. Drive to library A to return overdue books and pay fines. Drive to library B to return overdue books and pay fines. (Note: We don't do overdues here. No, really, we don't. I can't believe the system fell over....).

Anyway. Drive to central city suburb. Find park miles away from house. Walk to house to collect second born. Have to have a wee sit down. Gratefully accept invitation to lunch.

Home again, child wrangle, doze on chair with two sleeping children draped over me. Wake two sleeping children. Drag crying children into car. Extract children from car. Collect first born from school with minutes to spare.

Feed and water children, send first born to room to calm down. Clean thrown milk off floor, table and boy. Tackle breakfast dishes. Wash struggling toddler's face and hands. Change struggling toddler's nappy and top. Back into town. Collect Playcentre photocopying. Walk to Brendon's work. Supervise three excited children in work lobby. Distract toddler from throwing pebbles (resident in attractive child-height planter boxes) and sticking hands in automatic doors.

Man takes children home while I indulge in the Rites of Spring (that would be the seasonal wax of the winter coat). Yes, ripping the hair off my body counts as adult leisure time.

Bus home. Eat the remains of the family's fish and chip dinner. Forget to do Playcentre reports due that day.

Happy holidays!

Or not. I have a cold. My nose is very snotty and disgusting and I am in a permanent bad very-sorry-for-myself mood.

On the upside, Brendon is planning to take a couple of days off over the next couple of weeks. And the children played peacefully for much of the day, even though it was spent entirely indoors.