Fifty in two hundred days

Guess what today is? Other than five days before Christmas. Today marks House of many Minions 50th blog entry. 

I wasn't sure what to do, if anything, to note the occasion. Especially with all the horrific heart ache in the news. There's a blog post floating around in my mind, but it's too hard to put my emotions & thoughts into coherent words. Hold your friends & family close & your babies closer people, it's a big bad scary world out there.

I considered writing something with Christmas spirit, after all we are in the twelve days of Christmas. Should I mention surpassing the fifty post milestone at the beginning or end of the post, was it worth drawing light to at all? Then right before falling asleep, when all my brain suddenly starts kicking over & keeps me wide awake for a further two hours, I knew what to do...

I present to you 50 things that make me, Me.

1. I got my first job at fourteen - washing dishes at a local popular beach side restaurant.

2. I was a hypochondriac as a child. Specifically for sprained wrists or ankles. I woulds sneak into the first aid box, grab a bandage & strap myself up then try & remember how I was supposed to limp to make it believable.

3. I spent my first year of high school at a private catholic school, where none of my primary school friends went. I begged my parents to enroll me in the local public high school, which they did at the beginning of the new school year. Of course by then all my friends from primary school had formed new friendship groups, so I was left on the outer, just like year eight again. 

4. I mispronounce & muddle up words when talking & look like an uneducated fool all the time. 

5. Following on from mispronouncing, I call vineyards vine-yards {not vinyards} & instead of pronouncing archives ar'kives I still say archives. It's a constant source of amusement for Doug. 

6. I broke my two front teeth at year 7 camp while ice skating. They are still a source insecurity today.

7. When we go out for dinner nine times out of ten I'll order either salt n pepper squid or chicken parmigiana. When you're on a good thing, stick with it.

8. I played my first game of netball at seven years old & still play now twenty four years on. With the exception of a few short breaks to grow a baby. 

9. My childhood was gaming device free. So whenever we went to my cousin's house I would beg them to play Alex Kidd on SEGA. I still love that game even though I haven't played it in twenty something years.

10. I attended five different schools - three primary schools & two high schools.

11. I have had four jobs in my life - dishwasher {working my way up the ranks to occasionally making the take-away baguette's}. As a pet shop assistant {it always creeped me out getting dead frozen rats out the freezer for our snake owning customers.} Then I worked at a well known burger & fries joint for two years before saying goodbye to work as a 3rd assistant manager for a variety store, working there for just under three years until I resigned at thirty seven weeks pregnant. Ten days later Ben gave me my current position that I have held for over ten years now. Isn't there some long service leave I'm past due for...

12. In year 9 I vomited all over my desk & the floor in morning home group. Cries of ewww, how gross, disgusting & exclamations of how they felt sick now, are still vivid. 

13. I married Doug one month before my nineteenth birthday.

14. I learnt to play the guitar for several years in my early teenage years. For some reason I stopped playing {& deeply regret it}.

15. I got my first body piercing when I was 15 years old, without permission.

16. I've had my tongue pierced, labret pierced & belly button pierced. 

17. I had my belly button re-pierced when I was 24 & still have it in today. 

18. Unless it's over thirty degrees at night I always sleep with the electric blanket on.

19. On our first wedding anniversary Doug & I won a thousand dollars at the casino on the

pokies.

20. I played soccer, netball, softball & tae kwon do in primary school.

21. I was never smacked as a child - at least that I can remember.

22. Unless I know you really well I can be shy & find it hard to make the first conversation.

23. From the age of ten to fourteen my walls were covered with Keanu Reeves, JTT {Jonathon Taylor Thomas} & Prince William. Don't judge me.

24. I kill plants, unintentionally. Despite my best efforts they always wither up on me, then I drive the last nail in the coffin {or pot plant} drowning them in love & water. 

25. Before our minions came along I loved horror & suspense movies. Now it is impossible to even be in the same room when there is anything remotely thriller like or suspenseful on.

26. I cry, easily & at almost everything. I also try to hide it.

27. I suck at long division & decimals. I never grasped chemistry either. However algebra & I are friends. 

28. I've never broken a bone, but I was bitten on the nose by a family friend's dog when I was two years old & still have the scars.

29. I love funky or pretty mugs, geisha doll & babushka doll images.

30. I'm possessive of my chocolate chip cookies & give Doug the stink eye when he gives one to our dog.

31. I dropped out of high school after year eleven, then later completed my year twelve SACE studies via correspondence when Ben was a toddler while I was pregnant with Rianan & during her first four months. 

32. I was twenty eight when I went to my first concert - You am I. I've since been to P!nk, Rihanna & Keith Urban.

33. I hoard interior design magazines like Pinterest pins. 

34. For nine years I was an only child, then my first brother came along followed by my baby brother eighteen months later.

35. I find it exceptionally easy to devour a small tin of MiLo in one sitting...without milk. 

36. I used to wish my name was Sophie because it seemed like such a cool name when I was ten.

37. I grew up listening to The Cure, The Smiths & Morrissey, Smashing Pumpkins, You am I & REM. My parents still have awesome taste in music.

38. Though I'm right handed I can write legibly with my left hand, albeit very slowly.

39. My longest labor was four hours. My shortest labor was twenty minutes.

40. I was a painfully fussy eater as a child. I'm sure many family members can remember the holiday trip when I only ate buttered rolls for lunch. I also had a two hour stand off with my Dad when I was ten years old over a croissant that he wanted me to taste. By the time I caved & realised how delicious they were there wasn't any more left.

41. I'm not nearly as profound, insightful or funny as I wish to be.

42. We nearly became foster carer's before Blake was born. This is still something I feel passionate about doing when the minions are a bit older & we have a spare seat in the car.

43. Love Grey's Anatomy & the book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon.

44. Ever since I learnt to read I've been a massive bookworm. My library card often had over a dozen Baby Sitters Club & The Saddle Club novels out at any one time. I still stay up until the am hours reading, though my tastes have changed a little since I was eleven.

45. I used to read oracle cards. Though I've not looked at them in many years, I still can't bring myself to pass them on or sell them.

46. I hate licorice. Always have.

47. After growing up right near the beach I could never move far away from it. The salt & sand is in my blood.

48. I have two tattoo's. One is my husband's name on my inner left fore arm & the other is on my upper left arm with our eldest three children's foot prints, name & birth date. Due to almost constantly being pregnant or breast feeding over the last five years I've not yet finished off with our youngest three children's footprints & details. I have no idea where I am going to get them tattooed either - I don't think my arm is long enough for all six.

49. 'My Girl' is still one of my favorite movies. I dare anyone not to shed a tear when Vada is crying "He can't see without his glasses on" at Thomas J's funeral. Heart wrenching. 

50. I put off starting this blog for nearly four years. Why? Because I thought I could never live up to the bar set by all the other blogs I read frequently. Nothing has changed there, but now it doesn't hold me back. I love my little space here & all the bloggy like thoughts that run through my mind at the most inconvenient hours. 

There you go, fifty random things about me to celebrate fifty posts. Now I'm off to make myself a cuppa & cuddle up on the couch with our minions watching Despicable Me 2. I'm avoiding the news today, my heart & my tear ducts have taken as much as they can possibly bear right now.

Ahead of the trends

I heard someone remark today that large families are becoming the latest trend.

Right.

Let's just re-hash that. So people are having large families, that take a {horrifying, uterus screaming} four year minimum, because it is the latest rage. 

"Oh look, they have six children. Doesn't she look simply stunning with her three children hanging on her arms, look at the color co-ordination with those other three children running around her legs adding to the ensemble. I'm envious of the deep dark circles under the eyes & muffin top belly accessorizing her look. I must have a large family myself."

Said no one ever.

The only thing large families & the term 'rage' have in common are all nighter's. For vastly different reasons. I doubt an eighteen year old would find my 3am's as much fun as theirs. My perception of an all nighter these days is not the same one that comes to mind when the term rage is bandied about. Lack of sleep perhaps the only common denominator.

I'm sure it was just an ill thought through comment & if I'd had the opportunity to find out exactly how she came to this conclusion I would have loved to be enlightened on her thought processes & perceptions. 

As mentioned above, having a large family rarely happens overnight (except in exceptional cases usually with non-biological children. Families merging together, a group of siblings coming into the care of next of kin, etc.) Deciding to have a big family is not something that is decided on a whim. Some couples know they won't call their family complete with one, two or three little people, others perhaps find it to be a natural progression over the years & as the youngest child slowly grows. The size of a family has years of discussion behind it, not the simple minutes a whim decision brings.

I can't speak for others, but I can speak for myself & our reasons for having a large family had nothing to do with trends, fashions or popularity. I really can't see how anyone could base their greater than average minion numbers on any of those, which is why her comment has had me stumped all afternoon. 

Maybe she is confused with 'common'. In our friends & community circles or places we frequent, we often run into other families with four or more children. Perhaps this mind occupying stranger has also noticed more families that have a minimum 2:1 child to adult ratio than families of four or five. Could be the basis for her assumption is because the street she lives on has drive ways full of people movers instead of zippy little five passenger mobiles. Despite an afternoon of pondering I'm still clueless & no closer to cracking her comment open.

Who decides to commit to ten to fifteen years of continuous pooey nappies, sleepless nights & broken sleep. (That is just the 'under-five' years. I'm not going to touch the sleeplessness & anxiety ridden teenage years, the raising of six independence-claiming, know-it-all's that will span nearly two decades in the near future.) An intermittent eighteen months of toilet bowl hugging & parasite embryo induced narcolepsy. Then another inconsecutive eighteen months of back spasms, esophagus searing heartburn, fluid retention & leg cramps. Rounding off with four, five, six, seven jaunts through the labor & birth ward where the midwives know you on a first name basis on sight without glancing at your record. Potentially a week's worth of contractions & after birth pains. Months of cracked, tender nipples adding up to nearly a year. All based on a trend, a fad, a fashion, a rage, the in thing for 2014.

It's what all the hip people are doing. You'll find us in the kitchen serving up meals on nearly a dozen plates, or in the laundry putting through the eighth dirty washing load for that day. We're recognized by our little troops traipsing along with us & our great, big, minimum seven seat cars.

While big families may not be glamorous, unless your name is Brangelina, we certainly are fun. For every negative there is always two positives to cancel it out. The lines slowly emerging on my face are more from laughter, crinkles around my eyes that show a happy life. 

My wardrobe may not be full of the latest designs from the catwalk. I have no designer tags to flaunt. I've got myself something better & apparently it's the latest family trend.

Full arms, full heart & a full house. We hit the Jackpot.

Six sanity sapping suckers

I am certain we had a real life alien experience last night. I'm expecting another visit tonight too. When our own minions are returned to us & then to collect these hair pulling imposters that were left in their place. 

Unfortunately I don't believe in UFO's & the like. In consideration a conclusion has been drawn. I must be bat shit crazy to have convinced Doug to breed six of the little life draining, sanity sapping, energy sucking creatures.

Well, two of them at least, maybe three.

By the end of today I couldn't even get their names straight. Not that it really mattered. Jack, Blake & Ben were all behaving like a pack of wild orangutan's so names were irrelevant really. Lucky they weren't listening to hear me call them the wrong name. Every time.

The thought of plucking out my winter long leg hairs one by one was quickly becoming more & more appealing the longer the afternoon wore on. If someone had said that for a miracle to occur & our three boys to stop arguing with each other, all I had to do was pull out each toe nail...Pass me the pliers already. After all toe nails grow back over time. However, frown line wrinkles are permanent. Botox not withstanding. 

Today I am completely over hearing my own voice, over their shrieks, the words 'time out' & 'grounded' have lost all concept & meaning. Grounded, grounded, grounded, grounded, grounded, grounded...Semantic satiation in action. The sound of a dentist drill grinding against my teeth is more appealing to my ears at this moment.

In the aftermath of an attitude stand off between Ben & Jack I devoured an entire twelve pack of fun size mars bars. Three minutes flat the bag was empty & my food remorse was high. I needed the sugar high more than they did.

In light of the fact listing children to the highest bidder on Ebay is both frowned upon & illegal, my next best course of action was putting the main offenders to bed ninety minutes early. Not that this bolstered any parenting strong hold. 

The little turds are still awake. 

Two hours later. 

I'm sure I'll love them again tomorrow. In the mean time I'm off to have a bath. These legs are in need of some serious attention with summer pending & I need some intense relaxation. A hot bath with a good book I can lose myself in is just what the quack ordered.  

In no particular order...

Even though it's not yet 'officially' the school holidays, I felt my next post still needed to be a photo-mentary - especially following on from the last post warning you all of the visual overload that was imminent. 

I wasn't quite prepared with having the camera handy all the time, especially for some of the 'busier' moments, so a few parts of our weekend are left out. I'm considering this weekend that leads into the school holidays a trial run. 

I present to you our last 48 hours... 

Sneaky banana thief forgot to remove the evidence.

Big brothers = 24/7 entertainment.

Love.

 3:45pm Friday afternoon - The first coffee of the (unofficial) school holidays.

The aftermath of Rianan's indoor hopscotch.

Torture objects. 

Lunch

 minus two who had already abandoned the table. 

(& unfolded washing)

Sunday morning.

Saturday night.

Will aka Mr Threenager

It doesn't fly, but that's probably a good thing.

It's not easy being green

The third wheel.

Stuck in the middle.

Jack.

Our courageous, sensitive, funny, empathetic, insecure third child.

Poor Jack endures both metaphors. Not only is he the third child, he is also a middle child. 

As a toddler & still the youngest of three, Jack was always keeping me on my toes as he tried to, no scratch that, as he kept up with Ben. Anything you can do, I can do better. Hanging upside down on the curved monkey bars, sure but I can do it on the highest bar. Climb up a tree, sure but I will climb higher & to the flimsiest limb. Go out chest height at the beach with a body board, no problem. The fact that Jack stood a good fifteen centimeters shorter than Ben was no deterrent either. We always thought that Jack would be the first of our minions to break a bone, based on his fearless & can do personality.

He has the nickname of 'incredible Jack-Jack', based on the character in the movie 'The Incredibles'. A seemingly quiet little baby who is full of mischief & love for his family (see the Jack-Jack links)

But somewhere along the way all this bravado & confidence began to cover up a tangle of self-doubt & insecurity. Around the age of four & a half, & perhaps when his bladder problems (Jack has a low capacity & over active bladder) became more apparent, we noticed the anxiety masked behind the over confidence, the loudness & attention grabbing antics. The seeking of approval that was more than just wanting attention or praise, but searching for validation of self worth & reassurance that he was awesome just as he is. 

Every time I glimpsed that sad, haunting look in his eyes, only for a second but still there none the less, made me feel like I had failed him. It isn't every day that his doubts about himself shine through, often he is a happy little boy, but they are there often enough. He still has a lack of self esteem & self worth that we are trying to help him with. To show him with more than words how much we love him. Especially the times when he is feeling his worst & says "Everyone in this family hates me." 

God it hurts to write that. To know that our son feels this way. 

I look back & wonder what could I have done differently that would take away the looks of hesitancy & self doubt from his eyes. That would give him the reassurance that he is loved & cherished. Adored & admired by his siblings.

It is easy to get lost in the mix in a large family, to be glanced over or have your voice brushed aside & unheard. But I thought that we were doing a pretty alright job in giving each of our children our attention, both divided & undivided. We always acknowledge them when they are talking, give them little moments of affection - whether it be a cuddle on the couch together, or just a hand caressing the top of their head as they walk past. I make time each day for some one on one time & conversation, whether it be three minutes, thirty minutes or on the odd occasion three hours. I thought I had been attentive to their moods & responsive to the little signs of body language that show they're upset about something. I thought we were on the right path to raising happy & confident young people. But I've missed a step & coming up short for our incredible Jack-Jack. 

Jack truly is an incredible little boy. He is funny, he is adventurous, he is so sweet & affectionate. He is caring & empathetic, he is gentle & patient, especially with Blake, Will & Clay. He is helpful, he is clever & creative. He is an individual who is full of life, full of energy his legs need to burn & his mind needs to run. In his moments of self doubt he forgets all this. He doesn't hear all seven of us in his corner, cheering him on. For that moment all he hears is that disheartening voice in his own head that makes him feel like the whole world is against him & that he isn't any good.  

It's so distressing to hear words like pathetic & no good coming out of your child's mouth when they are expressing how they are feeling. It rings great big giant alarm bells on my Mothering radar. The current default Mothering when any negative talk is uttered is to immediately hug him tight & tell him that he absolutely is not any of those things. That he is awesome, he is great at soccer, that he is so much fun for Blake & Will to play with. That he is good at learning to read & can draw some amazing pictures. To remind him of everything good & wonderful, incredible & amazing about himself. To color in all those empty words with so much love they disappear.

He is only six years old, seven in a few more months time. We need to make sure his cup is full & over flowing with self assurance & self confidence before the big wide world of adulthood comes knocking on his door. I want him to know without a doubt that he is a great person - even when that pesky irritating voice in his head is talking mean. To know that he isn't bad or worthless or any other horrible feeling that's churning in his chest. I want his adolescent years to be filled with good memories & fun mischief with friends, not depression & dark thoughts, or following the wrong crowd because he doesn't have the self-worth or the confidence to step away. To not be a sheep but to feel an equal among his peers.

Ever feel like you're just floundering about in the dark, looking for that light switch that will suddenly illuminate everything? Yeah, I'm looking for that light switch. I want to make all the right words, all the right actions, all the right responses shine so bright, that I don't make any more missteps. That we can give a guaranteed magic fix for our incredible Jack-Jack.

Because he really is incredible, flaws & all.

Before the Minions

Very quiet & unexciting week here at HomM. Just to prove how mundane our week was, I present the top four highlights of the week -

1. The washing has been conquered! A fight was waged, & what a dirty battle it was. Alas I have emerged the victorious winner...this week anyway. I couldn't have done it without my illustrious sidekick, an appliance worth more than it's weight in Milo. 

2. Catching up with some friends over a caffeinated beverage, or four. It was deceptively revitalizing to get out of my own headspace & re-connect with others & find out what had been going on in every one else's lives. 

3. Enjoying an entire week of sleeping in our own bed, & not a fold out arm chair. Never again will I take for granted my own mattress, no matter how lumpy it seems, & the comfort it holds. 

4. Clay has a chest infection. Poor little mite can't catch a break - though he's proving more than adept at catching everything else. 

That's it, see like I said, B. O. R. I. N. G. 

We also had exciting plans this weekend - including a night minus five minions, to celebrate our twelfth wedding anniversary. But once again immune systems have tripped us up.

Given this week was uninspiring & a little lean on blogging material, in honor of our wedding anniversary I'm going to take you all back to the very beginning before we were a family of eight & our names didn't extend to Mummy & Daddy.

It was the summer of '69, sorry had to be done - whenever I hear 'it was the summer...' my mind jumps ahead & breaks into the Bryan Adam's classic. But I digress. Our story really starts back in the summertime of 2000 during December, when a friendship was struck up over a common commodity, sunburn, short change & a little yellow scooter. I don't think either of us imagined just what destiny had in store for us when we first started chatting over that counter. But boy am I glad that our fates intertwined. 

I was on my way home after a day at the beach & stopped in at our local petrol station to fill up the fuel tank on my bright yellow moped scooter. Doug's familiar face greeted me as I went in to pay & hang around for our customary chat. The difference this time was the painful scorching sunburn I was sporting on my upper legs all the way up to my bathers. To this day Doug can still clearly remember the moment I showed him half my butt cheek. In my defense it was simply to show just how bad I had unintentionally gotten burnt, moving a portion of my bikini to flash the white skin compared to the fiery red skin.

The next visit that clearly stands out in both our memories is the day I was twenty cents short when paying for my fuel. Forgetting that I only had the handful of change on me & no bank card I filled up my scooter, coming to a grand total of $2.80. Yep, the small size of the fuel tank meant that a) I had to fill up frequently, & b) I had ridiculously low running costs. Walking up to the counter, smiling sheepishly as I emptied out my coin purse & explained I was a smidge short, asking was there any chance Doug could lend me the twenty cents & I'll bring it in sometime over the next two days when I was sure to need petrol again. To this day it is still a running joke between us how I flashed him some leg & bought my way out of paying for my fuel. Nice to know my legs are worth so much. 

The weeks went by & our friendship continued to grow. Then the beginning of February 2001 saw me hospitalized with pneumonia & the day I was finally discharged the only person I wanted to see was Doug. From that point, each day that passed found us spending more & more time together, when inevitably our friendship turned to romance at the end of February when Cupid struck his bow.

Even now, just as it was back then, one of our ideal ways to spend time together is with a bag of hot chips down the beach watching the sunset. We spent so much time together down at Silver Sands beach, sitting on the tray top of Doug's Holden ute, often with his dog accompanying us. More accurately, JoJo was accompanying Doug & merely putting up with my presence or glaring at me through the back window, where she was relegated to the ute tray after I took 'her' front passenger seat

It's a little cliched, but I soon knew that Doug was 'The One'. Even though I was yet to hit my twenties. We just clicked on so many levels & I can't describe it beyond it was a soul deep knowledge, the jigsaw was complete we just had to paint the images together. (Sorry for the sap.) He was the first person I thought of when I woke in the morning, & the last person I would think of at night. For me there was no doubt that I would marry this man. Evidently Doug felt the same, proposing a few months later on a large rock one afternoon while we were walking along the beach. When I saw him go down to one knee, take my hand & begin talking about the future we would have together...The memory still makes my heart flutter just as much as it did that day. Pretty sure I was saying Yes even before Doug had finished asking me to be his wife.  

Fourteen months later & to the lyrics of 'How do I live' by Leann Rimes, we said "I do".

These last twelve years have been incredible & beyond belief. We've had our roller coaster moments of euphoric highs & devastating lows. We have a magnitude of memories together, from our early friendship & blossoming romance, to our honeymoon of spa baths, chocolate m&m's, monopoly, champagne & chinese food. From six positive pregnancy tests & all the experiences the following pregnancies & births held for us. To just this week, when we've both been grateful to be back in each others arms again after a stressful experience.

Twelve years of unconditional love...& I owe it all to that glorious, life changing summer.

Passing days...

It was around this time last year that we found out I had a little minion on board. 
Today that little cluster of cells turned 4 months old.

I need time to slow down. 

I miss his unfocused newborn eyes.

I miss his delicate newborn face.

I miss his fuzzy newborn hair.

I miss his newborn smell.

I miss the way he would simply doze off on my chest. How just being close to my heartbeat could instantly soothe & settle.

I miss his little curled up limbs, reminiscent of the months spent curled up in the womb.

I miss his little spindly limbs & their instinctive reflexes.

I miss those special, dreamlike feeds in the middle of the night, when we were the only ones awake in those quiet hours. 

I miss gazing at all his mesmerizing newborn details.

I miss anticipating the precious first smile.

But time never stops.

Now I look forward to seeing his gorgeous smile when he wakes in the morning.

I look forward to seeing his face fill out & change week by week, month by month.

I look forward to seeing his little legs grow chubby & strong.

I look forward to hearing his soft voice cooing to tell us all sorts of stories.

I look forward to seeing his eyes light up when his siblings walk into the room.

I look forward to seeing his personality shine brighter each day.

I look forward to watching each skill develop, the first precious giggles, rolling over to reach an elusive toy, those wobbly first steps.

I look forward to seeing Doug's eyes in his.

I look forward to discovering his favorite foods, favorite toy, favorite blankie.

I look forward to watching the little boy hiding in this little baby emerge.

I look forward to reminiscing on these fleeting days.