tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344271437297972652024-02-20T22:30:21.148+10:30House of many MinionsLiving life raising a family of many minions, aka our six children. Sharing the funny, the hair pulling, the mundane, the crazy & the heart melting moments. Follow me as I take my thoughts to the keyboard & our washing pile to greater heights on our blogging journey. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-27309690348861835202017-12-20T23:03:00.000+10:302017-12-20T23:03:54.759+10:30Shifting sands<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Since the end of the school year I have been wondering how to get back here or whether to come back at all. The thought of starting fresh with another bright, shiny blog crossed my mind several times. In all honesty the only reason I'm not typing over there is due to the lack of inspiration for a new, bright, shiny blog name. Then I decided my fickle blogging intentions were rather comfortable right here at HomM HQ, plus we have history. Forty two months of history to be precise. Those months have carried our story, reminding me of all the blurry days between the years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Those blurry days have revealed a teenager in the house, a pre-teen on the cusp of adolescence, a young baby grown into a pre-schooler & the whispering thoughts of another child into an almost toddling toddler. Plus a dog, a cat & a partridge in a pear tree...or four budgies in a cage, whatever.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The last update was all about Jack, how far he has come within himself since we pulled him from mainstream school & began our homeschooling journey. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Journey <span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span class="dbox-pg"><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available">noun</span></span></span></span></div>
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<em><span class="oneClick-link">Passage</span> <span class="oneClick-link">or</span> <span class="oneClick-link">progress</span> <span class="oneClick-link">from</span> <span class="oneClick-link">one</span> <span class="oneClick-link">stage</span> <span class="oneClick-link">to</span> <span class="oneClick-link">another:</span> </em><div style="text-align: center;">
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<span class="dbox-example"><em><span class="oneClick-link">the</span> <span class="oneClick-link">journey</span> <span class="oneClick-link">to</span> <span class="oneClick-link">success</span></em></span></div>
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We have very much undergone a journey, not only with Jack, but also within ourselves & our beliefs pertaining to education. Our generic acceptance was challenged. The further we wandered down the beaten track the more we questioned, with each fork in the road our status quo shifted a little each time. School is not a one size fits all. It's rarely a one size fits most. I'll get into that another night.</div>
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Going back over the last post & reading how the other (school aged) minions all happily went off to their first day back to school come February, or first day at school as was the case for Will, amazes me in how much our point of view has altered. A narrow perspective has been upgraded to a wide angle lens with a birds eye view.</div>
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Mid year we decided that instead of sending Clay off to kindergarten in 2018, he would never see the inside of a conventional classroom. Instead he would keep doing what he's always known & that is homeschooling with Jack. </div>
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As we made this decision the other kids, particularly Ben & Blake, continued to frequently ask to homeschool. The blanket response initially was "no" for a variety of reasons, including the (misconception) that I personally wouldn't be able to do it, as well as the perception that they had no 'reason' to homeschool & hence were better off at mainstream school. Oh how I was still so blinkered. </div>
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You know when you're meant to be on another path, but you stubbornly continue to take step after step along the well worn tracks you're eminently familiar with, so the universe decides to throw a little wild weather your way. Whether it be in the form of an earthquake, a mudslide or a tsunami.</div>
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In our case it was a six week meet & greet with Influenza B & Norovirus - a nasty & hideously contagious gastro virus that loves nothing better than to take out nursing homes & cruise ships in one fell swoop. Or put a household under quarantine. </div>
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Once we knew what we were battling & the kids were looking at a minimum one to two week absence from school, we offered them the choice to 'mock homeschool' or have their school work sent home from their teachers to complete. With a unanimous vote to (trail) homeschool, off we went.</div>
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<em>Life. Changing.</em></div>
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For all of us.</div>
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Five weeks later & in the final week of term three, following several (hundred) discussions as a family, with the children separately & between Doug & I, we made the leap & put in our application to homeschool all the remaining school aged children.</div>
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It's now been three (or four?) months, though it feels so much longer than that - in a good way. It feels like life as we've always known it. The kids are even happier, which I didn't think was possible given they were all pretty happy kiddo's before. The cooperation & teamwork between them is heart bursting to quietly watch. Hearing them discuss or explain whatever they are currently reading, watching, writing, working on, thinking through, gives me more proof, if it was ever needed, that for our family homeschooling is the absolute freaking bees knees.</div>
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The world is their <strike>oyster</strike> school & I can't wait to travel it with them.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-85911266923329391492017-02-23T22:13:00.000+10:302017-02-23T22:13:44.492+10:30It's not easy being green - part II<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This time last year we were several weeks into the first term of school. While most of our school aged minions were happy & adjusting well to the new school year, Jack was waist deep & sinking fast. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Drowning in negative self talk, nail biting to the point of bleeding, hair pulling, facial & upper body tics plus other anxiety related behaviour. There was sleeplessness, melt downs & mood swings, anger, tears - lots & lots of tears. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the morning, the closer it got to leaving for school the worse he became. Once we arrived at school he was compliant enough heading in to class. I won't write that he was happy enough, because he wasn't. More accurately put, he was resigned to it. Some days were better than others for him & I could <i>usually </i>gauge how stressful his day was based on how quickly he melted down once we got home. Or once he got to the car. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So many days with so many tears of frustration, anger, self doubt. It was like the more he held it together at school the worse the personal fall out, or 'let go', was for him once he was in his safe space of being home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We haven't even touched on the topic of homework. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's actually really heart breaking recalling how internally tormented he was, how different he was back then.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the years I had toyed mentally with the thought of homeschooling, it's always been on my radar since Ben approached school age. However with a reasonable selection of good schools around us in the suburbs that we lived in it was never more than a thought. Until it became a very serious consideration to try help our 'Jacker-knackers' come out of the swamp he seemed stuck in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The school was great - it wasn't them, a school transfer was not going to fix this. It was Jack. No amount of meetings, compromise or additional help in any form was going to be able to fix what we were looking at. There was just so many areas, so multi-faceted, it would be impossible to ask a teacher to accomodate so many changes. Especially when our teachers are already stretched like an over used hair-band (& often doing an incredible job teaching a stacked curriculum to twenty odd students all of varying academic levels & backgrounds.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After several weeks of researching, talking & sleepless nights, more researching & more talking, we made the decision to homeschool Jack.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Best.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Decision.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Ever.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The road we've traveled so far has not been without a few speed bumps & route re-evaluations. Especially with a pregnancy thrown into the mix. We completed our first year of homeschooling when Kade was eleven weeks old. It was not always easy, particularly in the last trimester when your body is all about growing a human & your brain is all about the sleep. Then we kicked off term four with a two week old. At least I could sit & feed, or stand & rock Kade to sleep while helping Jack. But the brain haze that accompanies the detaching of the placenta & the commencement of breast engorgement...the struggle was real. My brain was trying to nurture a newborn & support a nine year old with sensory issues, anxiety & still over coming the slathering of self doubt he was beginning to see past.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But my god. The changes we began to see, even just six weeks in. That was validation & all the confirmation we needed that this was right. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The nail biting to point of bleeding & beyond began to ease, the nervous tics were dissipating, our mornings ran a lot smoother & after school was no longer filled with melt downs & homework battles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The negative self talk-</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I can't do this"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I'm so stupid"<br /><br />"God I'm <i>so dumb"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Everybody hates me"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we even had "<i>I wish I wasn't born"</i>... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*<span style="font-size: x-small;">deep breaths, wipe away the tears.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can't remember the last time Jack has spoken about himself like that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last year when Jack was faced with a page of work that looked daunting, there was an immediate shut down response. It took a lot of coaching, coaxing & reassurance that I was right there with him to just get him to even consider putting a pencil in his hand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday Jack opened up one of his English workbooks we're currently working through. He looked at all the writing, all the reading & said "Mum I can't do this one, it's too hard."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I came over to have a look & said, "you know what, I really think you can do it. I know it looks like there is a lot, but I think you should give it a go. Remember all the other times you have said something was too hard & we worked through it together? Then you realised it really wasn't that hard at all? I think you should just try. See how you go." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Without any further comment, Jack put his head down & began to read. Then began to write. Ten minutes later he was finished & incredibly proud of himself. It may not sound like a lot to some, but to us it is huge. A complete contrast to seven months ago. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each day another brick is added to his wall of self confidence, it's slowly re-building but it seems we're getting a bit faster now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Part I </span><a href="http://houseofmanyminions.blogspot.com.au/2014/08/its-not-easy-being-green.html" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">can be read here</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-65220085218254517352017-02-17T10:18:00.000+10:302017-02-17T10:21:47.557+10:30Being an adult is like looking both ways for cars...then getting hit by an aeroplane<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After getting the itch to start blogging again late last year I intended to get this post up within a week or two, definitely before the end of January. Then January rolled in...& rolled out with February hot on it's tail. Each week I told myself I must to find the time to get re-acqainted back here. Then the days all blended into a blurry haze of summer heat, school holidays, back to school shopping & soaking up every drop of toilet training fails from Clay. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the end life just kept on spinning by while we kept up with each day - much like the last 18 months really.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Since that last post (was it really back in 2015!?!) There have been a few changes for us here at House of many Minions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">- We bought our home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">- Expanded our family by 4 furry feet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">- Made plans for the future...then found out lucky number seven was on the way a little earlier than we planned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">- Started homeschooling Jack.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">- Welcomed lucky number seven into our family. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">- Bought a camper trailer large enough to accomodate all nine of us (plus the two dogs) for many adventures & spontaneous weekends away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">- Seen Will off to his first year of school. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">- Realised life in the coming future with numerous teens & pre-teens is going to be much like raising over grown toddlers with a talent for food consumption of epic proportions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's a bit like when you catch up with a friend you haven't seen in ages & you're asked what has happened since we last caught up...everything & nothing. There's all these big life events thrown in with the spinning of day to day life. You quickly float over the mundane threads to try pick up the strands of glittery sparkle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The brightest sparkly thread that has woven into our lives is Kade, our seventh little minion.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After buying our first home 6 months earlier, Doug & I had this great big discussion on long term goals, achievements & where we wanted to be in the next three to four years time. This included having another baby, maybe late 2017 or during 2018...Seems this discussion was all the universe needed - just a few short weeks later two pretty pink lines threw all our well made plans into the air & changed our course to collect another passenger.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thirty eight weeks & a car upgrade later, the newest member for the blue team declared his intention to join us earthside with a small pop of waters after dinner. Baby sitters were called, bags were thrown in the car, contractions were mild...until they weren't. My back felt like it was going to explode, my belly was having the mother of all period cramps, my mind was struggling to let go of inconveniencing all these people who had been called out of their homes so late in the evening. Then just after midnight our wriggly, cranky, serious faced boy arrived. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our little passenger is now fast approaching five months old & an absolute sleep depriving, time wasting, delight. He feeds like a sumo wrestler & can out-stare even the most seasoned pro in a staring competition. He thinks our bed is a hell of a lot better than his own & I'm too tired to disagree. Which means our nights consist of me creeping into bed a lot closer to midnight than conducive for optimal sleep, only to stumble out within the hour to collect Kade from his cradle (still in our room - these apron strings are a lot harder to sever this time round.) He'll latch on like starving man in front of an all you can eat buffet, before passing out in a warm, milky stupor minutes later. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If I'm still semi conscious I'll put him back in his cradle...only to be summoned again within the hour. Rinse & repeat until the sun rises & the alarm declares the day must begin. The other alternative is to remain immobile all night long, as only a mother can, while the little bundle contentedly dozes the night through.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Right now I prefer some sleep over no sleep, so I'll continue to push Doug near out the bed while I play sleeping statues in the middle, with Kade taking prime position on my side of the bed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We're surviving, I'm functioning - though that is up for debate some days, my coffee consumption is keeping the coffee bean business thriving & this too shall pass.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-6778076567443347702015-08-14T12:36:00.000+09:302015-08-14T20:16:37.407+09:30The missing sisterhood<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Growing up I often felt I was missing out not having a sister. The fact that I was an only child for the first nine or so years didn't concern me half as much, but not having a sister - another girl to share rooms with, clothes with, secrets with & fight with, almost felt like a missing limb. Occasionally now I still wonder what it would be like to have a sister to go out to lunch with, to reminisce together over our shared childhood, to wet our pants with laughter remembering the time</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Dad singed his eyebrows off after throwing a cupful of petrol on the wood in the combustion fire & then lit it. It felt like a little empty spot not knowing a sisters bond.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back in the days when children were still a hypothetical, I hoped that our first born would be a boy, followed by a girl & soon after another boy. Then, if we decided to swap our family sedan for a people mover to accommodate more than five people, I envisioned our fourth child would be another girl. The perfect double pigeon paired family. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When half of my wishes came true, my envisioned boy, girl, boy in the form of Ben, Rianan & Jack, I was almost certain that we were well on our way to the doubled up 'ideal'. When the sonographer pointed out our fourth baby's tackle during the 20 week ultrasound, we were thrilled to have a (near) houseful of boys. Somehow I convinced Doug that five children would be brilliant & Will came along shortly after, irreversibly tipping the scales in favor of the meat & two veg.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Clay announced his presence via two pink lines & morning sickness that had me head down in the toilet bowl most mornings, we were suprised but no less excited. W</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ith a pregnancy that was noticeably different from the last three boys I thought there was a good chance we would be seeing a little squidette on that black & white screen while my belly was covered in cold goop. It was standing room only when we went off for a private early gender reveal scan at 15 weeks, filling the room with ourselves plus the minions. After many ultrasounds I'm fairly well versed in making heads from tails & certainly know what a penis looks like via ultrasound - our boys were not shy when it came to the big reveal. Neither was Clay. Our newest little squid was not a squidette but, well, a squid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I said I wasn't quietly disappointed I would be lying. I was excited to start imagining what our future would hold with 5 boys - soccer balls & footballs all over the back yard, muddy boots by the front door & a stack skateboards by the back door. (Which is exactly what our house looks like - the neighbour is continuously finding balls in her backyard & you have to work your way through the maze of scooters, bikes, skateboards, helmets & shoes just to reach our front door.) But my heart still quietly ached that Rianan would now also be joining the club of the Missing Sisterhood. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's hard to voice that disappointment, because it is not to say that our boys are any less awesome, any less wanted or any less loved. The moment I found out we were expecting another child I loved them, when we discovered their genders I fell in love even further & with each little kick, elbow jab, hiccup & body roll I fell even deeper. By the time they were born my heart was filled with so much love it frequently leaks out my eyes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's the potential dream that disappears, saying goodbye to a future that once was possible, now will not be. In the scheme of things it is really quite trivial, especially when you put it next to infertility, miscarriage & stillbirth, cancer, or any other life impacting & heart breaking experience. Though it may be trivial, it still impacted my life, my childhood & friendships.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Enough for it to roll around my head for weeks now & to put all those thoughts & feelings into words here. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Knowing that Rianan will not know what it is to have a sister. That she might try to seek out that missing limb in close friends, to elusively search for a sisters bond she'll never have. Speaking from experience, it won't measure up or be the same. It was only when I reached my late twenties that I stopped looking to fill that phantom void. That I realised it was simply a dip in the surface & not a desolate space that needed to be filled. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I may not know what it is to have a sister, or to be the mother of sisters, but my life is not lacking in richness, short of love, or devoid in any way. With a husband who loves me, flaws & all, who gets me & lifts me up in every way, with six incredibly special & unique children who drive me to be better, to do better each day. To have seven people who own my heart. That is lucky enough. Then top it off w</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ith </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">beautiful & enriching friendships with women who make me laugh, make me cry & I can be myself with. There is no missing limb. I hope that Rianan, as she grows up surrounded by her brothers, knows that it is a blessing to be a sister even if she doesn't have one herself. And that she doesn't need to fill the shoes of a non existent one either.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-31314403699146957152015-06-18T20:39:00.001+09:302015-06-18T20:39:50.095+09:30Some days you just have to dance it out<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some days after school are easy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everyone piles in the front door, bags are unpacked, food is devoured & homework is finished. Then more food is devoured before they all scatter off to fill the time void between snack two & dinner time. Minimal bickering & maximum amusement. Will & Blake scamper off outside to ride their bikes or jump around like lunatics all over the back yard. Ben, Rianan & Jack pull out the UNO cards & see how many rounds they can each win before it's discovered that Rianan has been cheating by sliding a few extra cards under the couch so she can declare "uno!" first.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Other days are not so easy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When everyone pushes their way through the front door like a herd of stampeding elephants, bags are dumped in bedroom doorways or along the hallway. The kitchen is filled with too many kids all vying to find the best after school snack, then stomping away when there is only the usual's on offer still. When getting their homework started, let alone finished is harder than trying to devour a bar of chocolate undetected in this house filled with minions. What would normally take ten minutes to complete, will instead span over an hour painfully filled with moans, complaints, messy & spaced out writing or staring at the same pages in the same chapter of their book. And that is just the older three.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then there's Blake, Will & Clay, who will spend their time either a) running, screaming, jumping their way through the house until someone gets knocked over & trampled on the unforgiving floor tiles. Proceeding to burst my ear drums with their screams, before turning to retaliate against whoever they think is guilty of sending them sprawling to the floor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or b) Blake & Will spend the next hour or so annoying each other until I can't stand it any longer. While Blake & Will have me distracted with their arguing, Clay will quietly walk through each bedroom, opening drawers & pulling out every shred of nicely folded clothes he can reach. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before I know it, 5pm has ticked over, dinner isn't even thought of yet let alone cooking away. The house looks like an abandoned clothes warehouse after a cyclone has torn through & we've all given up on any legitimate attempt on the homework front. Forget about baths, at this stage the kids will be lucky to get anything more than spaghetti on toast before being shipped off to bed at my soonest possible convenience...after tidying from the storm that wiped me out flat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Half an hour into yesterday's after school gauntlet & I could see the sides beginning to crumble. While the bags were put away, empty stomachs were filled & homework was done (because there was hardly any required) the disagreements & arguments were starting to come thick & fast. Add in several emails & phone calls that demanded my attention & could not wait, meant that everything going on out of my little bubble had to wait. By the time I put the phone down & decided the rest could be done after the crazy had passed, there were shoes everywhere, clean & dirty clothes littered the house mimicking behind the scenes of a fashion runway show, Clay was cranky, Ben, Jack & Blake were filthy from the waist down after playing soccer together & a lone empty fry pan was still waiting on the cold stove top.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I issued orders like a drill sergeant - "pick up those shoes"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"dirty clothes in the laundry now"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"put the clean clothes on the couch with the rest of the washing"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"bags in rooms"<br />"balls outside!"<br />The minions responded like a class of hyped four year old's coming down from an intense sugar rush. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was only one way to rescue what was shaping up to be an evening from hell & the breaker to demolish the last whispers of sanity that were stopping me from going all exorcist mummy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ignore the time & turn the music up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can't hear the petty little arguments, whinging & dobbing if they are drowned out with only the best playlist selections from the iPod on a volume level just bordering too loud.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was the best decision made all day. It didn't take long before the boys turned the Xbox off, Rianan came out of her room (after escaping in there for some peace & quiet) & the younger three channeled their destructive energy into dancing like maniacs. While I was chopping up chicken, dancing & singing my heart out to Clay who had joined me in the kitchen, the other five had set up the coloring in gear on the table & were all happily getting along, talking, encouraging & laughing together, with the occasion dance off thrown in for good laughs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before we were even a quarter of the way through the playlist, dinner was cooked & the table was swiftly cleared & then set, on my first request, ready for the plates & bowls to be distributed. Knock knock jokes were told & the best things about our days were shared as we slowly finished eating. The tension & frustration that was flooding us all not forty minutes earlier had completely evaporated. Baths & showers were done, with the older minions doing a quick but thorough {enough} tidy around the house while the younger three were bathed & prepared for bed, not that much later than their usual bedtime either.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By the end of the night everyone went to bed in a good mood & I didn't feel like crap for spending the last three hours nagging & yelling while serving up a less than substantial dinner. I'm fairly certain that I'm not alone when I say I would much rather listen to the likes of Paramore, The Smiths, Ed Sheeran & Pink {to name a few}, than give myself a headache & everyone else immunity towards the nagging tones in my voice, topping off with foul moods all round. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next time our evening - or morning, is beginning to morph into a train wreck I'm going straight to that magic button, play.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-40527974568393751332015-06-04T13:37:00.000+09:302015-06-04T13:37:37.951+09:30Girls will be girls...& bitches<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had hoped to come back with a hilariously funny, light hearted post. Some tale of mischief from one of the minions to get the blogging ball rolling again. While the antics of the kids have been up to their normal high standards ripe with blogging material, my fingers have still been frozen. I almost considered to just Let It Go, let it goooooo...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then the nightmare of on again, off again friendships between girls resurfaced after twenty odd years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It started slowly enough. Rianan would come home from school disheartened & sad because her {best} friend had been mean to her that day. Within half an hour all would be forgotten when A* would come over after homework to play, or by the next morning at school when A would come running up to Rianan with a smile & a hug, before they went in to class together. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, it didn't take long before Rianan was bursting into tears the moment she saw me after school, because of what had happened between her & A, then including their mutual friends, during recess, lunch, & even class time, that day. At first this was just once or twice during the week, then it soon escalated to most days. The girls Rianan thought were her friends, suddenly weren't. The little secrets & whispers she had told them were now thrown back at her in taunts or giggled about viciously. Being constantly stared down & glared at during class. Completely ostracized during recess & lunch, with A making sure that none of their friends would play with Rianan, forming their own little anti Rianan posse. The boy who liked her was even dragged into it.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x9gcxnkGV0I/VW_F4RULvCI/AAAAAAAAIKk/e7GFT-8AalI/s1600/IMG_7421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x9gcxnkGV0I/VW_F4RULvCI/AAAAAAAAIKk/e7GFT-8AalI/s400/IMG_7421.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the beginning I comforted Rianan & tried to gently guide her through this nasty side of being a nine year old girl. I have my own haunting memories full of girls whispering, turned backs & being vilified for the clothes I wore, the boy I liked, the music I listened to, the posters I had on my bedroom wall. I remembered all the times I was sick & had to have a day or two off school & being terrified that when I returned my friends would all now be my enemies for that week. Where lunchtimes were filled with sitting morosely on the oval under a tree by myself. When school work was completed well before the deadline...because I had no one to talk & giggle with & the boring assignment was a welcome distraction from the glares & taunting whispers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seems for many of us, it's an unwanted rite of passage during primary (& high) school. Girls will be girls. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Until they become bitches.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As far as I'm concerned there is a line. A line that differentiates between shitty girl behaviour that we seem to accept, & outright targeted bullying. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The line was crossed. We could no more stand back while Rianan tried to manage the behaviour mostly on her own. Both her teacher, who is aware of the events, along with Doug & I had been encouraging Rianan to stay away from A, to ignore her when she started being mean to her or about her. To play with other girls in the class who weren't tied in with their mutual friends group, or to play with her friends from previous years who were in other classes now. We advised her to now tell her teacher every time something happened during recess & lunch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Things were still escalating & Rianan was now sick with anxiety every morning while getting ready for school. Instead of confidently walking off to class she was now clinging to my hand. I spoke with her teacher one morning, which didn't offer any further solutions beyond what we were already doing - avoidance, ignoring, playing with other girls who were not involved with A's circle of friends {& potential aggressors}. I approached A's mum again, who we had been in contact with occasionally during the girls 'off moments'. This lead nowhere.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The on again, off again, friendship was now constantly off. Occasionally, for an afternoon, A & Rianan would be friends again, but by the next morning Rianan never knew if this would still be the case when she stepped in to her class room. Through all this Rianan is not completely innocent, she has been nasty back. Which I am glad of, it shows she believes herself not deserving of such toxic behaviour. She has a backbone & isn't afraid to use it. But when she is at home, when she is in her safe environments, she falls apart. All the soft, sensitive sides of herself she has had to protect all day long with that strong back bone, become exposed. That strength that held her through the day disintegrates because she is safe at home, needing this time to regenerate for the next day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How far does it have to go before something more is done, before the adults make a stance & really step in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What makes me mad is the fact that in many bullying situations, it is up to the victim to manage the bullies behaviour & tactics. Even when these aren't working. As far as I'm concerned when teachers, bosses & parents as well, <i>constantly</i> give the advice to 'ignore them', to stay away from them, for the victim to change their areas of play, to change the people they are seeking out for company, to 'not listen' to what is being said to them or about them. It sends a message of condoning the behaviour of the bully. That the victim is not worth the respect they should be deserved, allowed, & have the other person pulled up on their actions against the victim. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Telling a victim to 'toughen up', especially when they have already 'toughened up' & 'thickened their skin' over the last couple of months is a slap in the face. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why should a child have to toughen up when they have already been trying to deal with the bullying behaviour on a continual basis, without success. By now they have 'toughened up', if they weren't already resilient before.</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like a friend said to me recently, "instead of telling our** children to toughen up, why can't we tell them to soften down?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Look, I understand the psychology behind a bullies behaviour, that they feel vulnerable & are often bullied or victims of a serious wrong doing against them, recent or past. I have compassion for them, I see that they are not the culmination of their behaviour but so much more than that. While this gives an insight into the reasons behind why they do what they do, it never allows them to permission to be an aggressor. It is not a get out of jail free card.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Girls will be girls & boys will be boys. There is always going to be friendships turning, rough play that gets out of hand. But when it becomes frequent, when there is a specific target, enough is enough. Don't let that line in the sand keep moving or getting blurred. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And no, telling the victim of constant bullying (or the parent of the child) to toughen up, because as they grow up they are going to come across bullies in high school & the work place, is not sound advice. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">* A is representative, not part of the name.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">** 'Our' is used here collectively, not personally. </span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-63633116410392815002015-05-01T08:07:00.000+09:302015-05-01T08:07:05.011+09:30The newest addition Friday #TIK link up<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We have some exciting news here at HomM.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This morning I'm off to meet our newest family member. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll be back later to introduce the rest of you as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the meantime, check out some other bloggers linking up for my last Things I Know Friday link up. I would like to say a big thank you to Ann at <a href="http://helpstuck.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Help!! I'm Stuck!!</a> for letting me host her #TIK link up party while she was on holiday. An especially big thank you to all the bloggers who have saved me from lonerville & linked up with #TIK.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>What things do you know this week? </i></span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Link up below & check out some of our other bloggers this week too. Love what you read? Share it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have something to say, then comment away. I love hearing from readers, I'm sure other bloggers feel the same too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are no hard & fast rules for #TIK link up, old post, new post, bring it on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy linking!</span><br />
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<!-- end InLinkz script -->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-52944325246627795742015-04-24T06:00:00.000+09:302015-04-24T06:00:01.879+09:30Things I Know - Fillings shoes & a link up party #TIK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7yqu4gWZvkY/VTjDg_q35HI/AAAAAAAAH0k/ZXHMvgwhG5Q/s1600/weeds9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7yqu4gWZvkY/VTjDg_q35HI/AAAAAAAAH0k/ZXHMvgwhG5Q/s1600/weeds9.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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Kids are weeds. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seriously.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They absorb everything around them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They attempt to devour all & any food sources faster than others surrounding them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They thrive with sunlight, fresh air & love a good play in water.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They grow faster during childhood than at any other stage of their lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Weeds. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kids.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Growing is their super power. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Enough said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seems that no sooner do our minions fit into their clothes & shoes, they are growing out of them again. I am not opposed to handing down shoes between our boys. If there is any wear left in them, that is. Our boys play hard & ride harder. Of course brakes are on the wheels on the scooters & bikes that pave the way to our front door. Apparently, brakes can also be found on your shoes. </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fv7HKrlvjUM/VTjGB3fhwDI/AAAAAAAAH1A/P4weBXBl-ok/s1600/shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fv7HKrlvjUM/VTjGB3fhwDI/AAAAAAAAH1A/P4weBXBl-ok/s1600/shoes.jpg" height="400" width="371" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We have so many pairs of shoes in our house I'm a little afraid to go around & count them all, to be honest. The boys have more shoes than I do & Rianan has three times as many as Doug. With the new soccer season starting, several growth spurts since the end of last season, we're about to add even more shoes to the footwear count. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While we're on the topic of chuck taylors, for the next two weeks I'm stepping into some big boots to fill. Ann, from <a href="http://helpstuck.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Help!! I'm Stuck!!</a> has asked me to host her "Things I Know" link up party while she is away, kicking up her own feet on holiday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>What things do you know this week? </i></span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Link up below & check out some of our other bloggers this week too. Love what you read? Share it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have something to say, then comment away. I love hearing from readers, I'm sure other bloggers feel the same too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are no hard & fast rules for #TIK link up, old post, new post, bring it on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy linking!</span></div>
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<!-- end InLinkz script -->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-65598364226320233682015-04-15T14:05:00.002+09:302015-04-15T14:05:55.216+09:30Making men to be proud of<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Violence against women. It is not a new concept brought about with the advancement of technology or time. Through out the centuries it has been there. Hidden. Eyes averted. Not our business. Whispered through gossip circles. Advised to keep your nose out of it, if you know what's good for you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would have thought abuse against women would lessen as the younger generations grew into the men of today. That they knew better than to rape or sexually assault a woman - unknown to them or their own partner, a person they are meant to love & respect. That they knew better than to slam a woman against the wall. To bash her self esteem into shattered pieces with their caustic words & disgustful stares. I thought our generation of twenty first century men were better than this. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So grossly disillusioned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Headlines, recent & past, prove that too many men today still see nothing wrong with abuse towards women. Verbal, physical, psychological. The bruises are there. I imagine they never truly heal either.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not painting all men with the same misogynistic brush.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Many are gentlemen, fine men who would never hurt a woman & would stand to protect them in any situation. Fine men any Mum would be proud to know they helped raise, nurturing them from little boys, through the hormone driven teenage years, to see the young man emerge they are now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the men with hidden monsters. The ones who have less commonsense than our early homo-sapien ancestors, the men who see it as their right to treat women as less than any person deserves...What went wrong? Are their parents proud of these young men they helped shape into the perpetrators of today? Was there a turning point during their younger years that sparked the threads of aggression & dominance over females. Nature or nurture? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What is equally scary as their potential to ruin lives, is that these men are completely normal in appearance. They have friends, they go to work at their every day jobs, they care for their parents & treat their pets as family members. They don't go around drooling & grunting, dragging their fists along the ground. They are educated men in today's world of privilege & freedom. Would it be easier, safer, if we could see the fault lines in their personality as easy as we can see the clothes they are wearing?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Raising our own five young boys, the future male generation to come, I constantly question if I'm doing it right. What are we doing to instill the right values, morals & respect towards all women with our boys. They love their sister & their Mum. They love their Grandma, Auntie & all other female family & friends of all ages. Not once have they shown persistent signs of aggression, disrespect or arrogance towards any female. Surely so far, so good, right? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our boys have some amazing male role models in their lives, starting first & foremost with their Dad, who is an absolute gentleman. He shows myself & Rianan absolute love & respect, never raising a hand or his voice. Words of aggression or disgust have never been spoken & directed at us. The same can be said for t</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he Uncles, Grandad's & close male friends in our lives,</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I could not ask for better men for our boys to look up to & to imitate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What happens to make some men turn ugly?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did Vincent Standford, the man accused for murdering Stephanie Scott have a loving childhood? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What male role models did Oscar Pistorius have in his life as he grew into the man he became? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What leads a man to the justification or to their perceived right to sexually assault a woman. To physically attack her or to take her life. How have they come to the conclusion that to speak words of disgrace, of ugliness & despise to their partner is okay?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I used to think as the generations moved forward, that acts of violence against women, racism, homophobia, bigotry was a dying concept. Instead, it seems that the only change is now we cover it more freely in the news, or openly carry on like ignorant idiots instead of waiting for the door to close to keep it in the privacy of your own home. It is still commonplace to witness hateful attacks on strangers for their life choices. Instead of stepping in & standing up for the victim, people are watching the attack through the screen on a mobile phone before uploading the recording to YouTube. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to think Doug & I are doing enough, over & above, to make sure our boys will grow into men we will be proud of. Who would never abuse women, in any way or form. Or any person for their lifestyle choices, their appearance or for the way they were born. I look back at our parenting over the last ten years, & I look forward to how I anticipate we will continue to raise our minions, it seems that we are on the right track. Our boys are pretty damn great now, surely if we continue in the same flexible way our boys will turn into men who love their partners with gentle affection & not harsh words or vicious actions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What can the parents of today do, or not do, to help the future men & women of tomorrow? Is that even a question to pose? Because </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">at the end of the day there is no reason, no excuse or past event big enough to justify or slightly condone this behaviour or attitude. Every person is responsible & accountable for their own actions. The one true freedom we have is to make our own choices & follow through with our own actions, accepting any consequences that may follow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Making heroes, not monsters. Nature? Nurture? None of the above?</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-62610552389826001202015-03-19T12:47:00.000+10:302015-03-19T12:47:02.666+10:30Clench, hold and release<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ben's birth was blessedly straight forward & quick enough. After four hours of active labour & a second degree tear, our 7lb 6oz first son arrived. There are so many cherished memories from the days following his birth, but there is one that really stands out personally. Still now, ten years later, I can recall every sensation & the emotions that whipped through me at the time.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tXtOcnUGpaY/VQowsQkVEaI/AAAAAAAAHYg/iF-kIF0ydq0/s1600/blackwhite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tXtOcnUGpaY/VQowsQkVEaI/AAAAAAAAHYg/iF-kIF0ydq0/s1600/blackwhite.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ben was just over twenty four hours old & I was slowly wheeling him along</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in his clear plastic, hospital issue bassinet </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- feeling a little tender with stitches located where stitches had never been before. We had just been for a visit to the common room & I was making our way back to our private room, anticipating the arrival of lunch (& with any luck a little nap for the both of us). I had just passed by the nurses station & half way down the corridor, still another few rooms to go yet until our own, when suddenly the urge to pee came upon me with no prior warning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Urgently. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Really urgently.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The shock of trying to clench those bruised, battered & swollen pelvic floor muscles, only to find that they didn't really feel like clenching much at all has haunted me through every birth that has followed over the last ten years. It is one time I genuinely feared I was going to wet myself, in public, & not just a little bit either. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I knew the importance of doing kegels during pregnancy & in the weeks & months following birth. I'd read the little snippets of real life experiences that were included in the articles of keeping your pelvic floor tight 'n high, written in by women who found out the hard way just how necessary it was to clench - pull it all in without pulling a face. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With tips including, but not limited too, </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'If you're doing the dishes or hanging out the washing, do your pelvic floors as well.'</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or, 'When you sit to feed the baby work those muscles at the same time - clench, release & repeat.'</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vt0m-GiR4R8/VQovn-pBrpI/AAAAAAAAHYA/T3nK57ZNHU4/s1600/296824_10150282748339114_8011330_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vt0m-GiR4R8/VQovn-pBrpI/AAAAAAAAHYA/T3nK57ZNHU4/s1600/296824_10150282748339114_8011330_n.jpg" height="320" width="215" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some how I mostly kept my bodily fluids within my body & high tailed it in a waddling, thigh clenched gait as fast as I could while pushing Ben along, still oblivious in his bassinet back to our room. That afternoon I resumed the clench, hold, release & repeat. Just a few at a time, enough to gently locate them & check they were still in potential working order, then slowly increasing the intensity over the following days & weeks. That call to nature was just far too close for comfort...& too far</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">from a lavatory. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seventeen months later & half way through Rianan's pregnancy I joined a pregnancy exercise class run by a physiotherapist. Several times through each session she would run us through our pelvic floor exercises - advocating passionately just how important it really was to do them. Beginning as soon as we felt able to, while lying down to avoid putting too much extra pressure on our vagina's that had just gone a round in the boxing ring with a three kilo battering ram - or so it may seem. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pjEa5o7otxo/VQovn9Z9p-I/AAAAAAAAHX8/ub4-wO2NzMU/s1600/318869_10150306715669114_1631273183_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pjEa5o7otxo/VQovn9Z9p-I/AAAAAAAAHX8/ub4-wO2NzMU/s1600/318869_10150306715669114_1631273183_n.jpg" height="301" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rianan's birth was just as good as her older brother - a water birth, just under four hours & another slight second degree tear after coming out all in the one contraction. In the wee hours of the morning as dawn illuminated the clouds, I laid on my side while gazing at our daughter, memorising her five hours old newness, & began the first gentle clenches of those hidden muscles. This time, when nature screamed a waterfall was coming, I wouldn't be caught blindsided. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After having more than the standard quota of pregnancies & births, I know </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">how crucial it is to keep my pelvic floor stronger than my biceps. Especially if I want my bladder to stay where it belongs, along with it's contents, while taking Ben & Jack on in a round of soccer, chasing Blake & Will around in a game of chasey or joining Rianan in a display of kart-wheels & handstands. Though they aren't as easy as it was twenty odd years ago...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the last ten years I'm certain I've done more kegels than I have changed nappies. They've paid off though - especially after suffering morning sickness with Clay & hugging the toilet bowl every morning, or more recently finding myself succumbing to the sneezes of hay fever. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you are quietly suffering incontinence, no matter how mild or severe, go & see a physiotherapist who specialises in pelvic floor. Ignoring the matter won't fix anything. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How many times have you clenched, held & released so far today? </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-24004251660976669422015-03-03T21:27:00.000+10:302015-03-03T21:27:26.831+10:30Don't mind the mess...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vGlUoi2L2d8/VCfvwxmYguI/AAAAAAAAD0w/EhIFuU2B2-U/s1600/coffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vGlUoi2L2d8/VCfvwxmYguI/AAAAAAAAD0w/EhIFuU2B2-U/s1600/coffee.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Come in" she said, "don't mind the mess", as I step over the threshold to her home, d</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">rawing my attention to the suggestingly unkempt surroundings. M</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">y eyes flick over every surface as we proceed deeper into the house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Though I'm not exactly sure what mess she is pertaining too. The haphazardly arranged toys that are within the confines of the baby mat, or the two mugs on the bench next to the kettle - clean & ready for expected company. Even the beds were made in the bedrooms we drifted past.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No piles of washing all over the couch with not-so-fifty-shades underwear & holey socks </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">flauntingly visible,</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> forgotten to be tucked deep into the mountain. Kitchen sink empty of breakfast bowls, no dried </span>weet<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-</span>bix<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> or puffed up rice bubbles lingering on the table - or under the chairs. Either her children slept in their clothes the night before, or it is their pyjama's I can hear in the washing machine quietly swishing away.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u-64SbDHlgk/VCfvlnb5ulI/AAAAAAAAD0k/MHL1wtqOFRA/s1600/couchbw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u-64SbDHlgk/VCfvlnb5ulI/AAAAAAAAD0k/MHL1wtqOFRA/s1600/couchbw.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The floors look clean enough to follow the three second rule {for dropped food}, curtains open & windows barely visible - not a smeared hand print or dried up cascading dribble to be seen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think to myself, if this is classed as messy then my house belongs on 'Hoarding - Buried Alive'. Knowing that as I closed the front door to take the minions to school, I was closing the door on pyjama's left on bedroom floors, breakfast bowls un-rinsed & stacked next to the sink, with the dishwasher clean but not yet emptied from the night before. Wet bed sheets & quilts stripped & fermenting in the dirty laundry basket, the washing machine silent. The evidence of packing lunches on the kitchen bench remains & while the dining table is wiped of any solid food matter, cloudy streaks are easily seen & rice bubbles litter Will & Blake's chairs. Our floors, not fit for the three second rule, but clean enough for Clay to escape my hip on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With that one careless statement, perhaps meant to clear her of any responsibility for a missed mirror streak or mote of dust I may see, but not notice - evaporating from my mind faster than a shopping list. T</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he standard is set. The precedent of expectation which goes both ways.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Weeks later I open our front door to welcome her into our home. With a smile I say "Hi! Come in, don't mind the mess, we've been so busy the last few days I've not had a chance to clean properly." A partial truth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We walk down the hallway, past bedrooms & lounge rooms - doors wide open to welcome inspection. Small talk is made while we make our way to the kitchen, where two mugs await next to the kettle & a plate of {store bought} goodies already set out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What she doesn't know is that I ran around like a blue arsed fly the night before - cleaning toilets, wiping toothpaste off mirrors & polishing windows until I could see my reflection. Washing piles thrown hastily into cupboards, floors swept & quickly mopped. That morning the kids were dropped off at school looking irritated & harassed - because I spent the previous two hours acting like a Drill Sargent. Make your bed! Put your pyjamas in the wash! Whose breakfast bowl is on the table still? Put it in the sink! Rooms tidy! Brush your teeth, make sure you rinse the bathroom sink after! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Instead of walking each minion to their class, I kiss them good bye & head back to the car before the morning bell has even rung. Eager to gain an extra ten minutes to ensure everything is looking as clean & display home'esque as possible. Not a rice bubble in sight. Super House Wife badge on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This became the norm. Doug always knew when I had plans to catch up with someone the next day because the night before instead of sitting next to him on the couch, I would be mopping & folding as much of our Mount Washmore as I could before tiredness set in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then a few months ago I called enough. Our house is our home, not an open door display house. I was sick of the falseness, the illusion, the expectation. I wanted to look forward to catching up with friends, not feeling annoyed that I had to sacrifice my quiet evening to make sure every surface was free of minion prints & milk spots. If a friend knocked unexpectedly on our door I didn't want to chat at the front door to hide the lunch dishes in the sink, the unfolded washing dominating the couch, unmade beds & the dozens of shoes almost certainly to be scattered through various rooms.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I also do not want other women to feel the same way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I'll still say "come in, don't mind the mess." But you will <strike>know</strike> see exactly what mess I am excusing. Whether it be the crumbs on the bench, the dining table I'm wiping down before we sit, the glass door opaque with hundreds of hand prints or the baby toys & action figurines that lay abandoned on the floor. The real mess. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pop over for a cuppa, come for the company. You're welcome any time, just mind the washing.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-62974443386488414222015-02-27T14:56:00.000+10:302015-02-27T14:56:48.156+10:30Boys & their toys<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have boys, they said. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It'll be fun, they said.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">{ok, we didn't get a say in the whole boy:girl ratio, but work with me here}</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Boys are awesome. Our boys are awesome. They are loud. They are hilarious. They are adventurous & cute as puppies when they are up to no good. You know that saying 'silence is golden'? Nuh-uh. If the house is quiet it's a telling sign they are up to no good...True. ALL true.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another truth about boys - they make your toilet smell like an alley behind the local pub. No lie. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We do toilet checks on the hour every hour - or after each pit stop, to comply with standard OH&S recommendations. A wet toilet floor is a slippery toilet floor, & no one wants to land in someone else's pee. Or even your own pee.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HKBRQC0av1I/VO66FzIooRI/AAAAAAAAHB4/v9XRPR9s8ns/s1600/toilet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HKBRQC0av1I/VO66FzIooRI/AAAAAAAAHB4/v9XRPR9s8ns/s1600/toilet.jpg" height="320" width="260" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was aware that the younger </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(& not so younger)</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> male species may need reminding to refine their aim. I was prepared for drips on the toilet seat & few a strays on the floor. What I was not prepared for was the proverbial showers that would dry in yellow droplets</span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> all over</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> the seat </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">& lid</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. Neither was I expecting to regularly find Lake Bonney on our toilet floor. I kid you not. I had no idea that so much wee could come from such a small person in one trip.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With four boys taking regular jaunts to the lavatory, one of whom has a low capacity, hyperactive bladder meaning he is nearly always busting straight off the mark. Some days I clean the toilet floor more than I load the washing machine.<br /><br />Over the last four months or so it seemed to exacerbate, likely due to the school holidays & with now four boys using the commode on a rotating door basis. Fed up with having to resort to a towel to clean up the initial mess, going through rolls of toilet paper & bottles of disinfectant on a weekly basis I called all the boys to a toilet door meeting. Mum was serious.<br /><br /><u>Rule #1</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you go to the toilet, hold your penis! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many times I had busted Jack just thrusting his hips forward & then refining his aim as he went. Which was never successful, & often by the time his aim was on target he'd run out steam, so to speak. By then it was too late.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Rule #2</u><br />Put the toilet seat UP!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can't drip wee on the toilet seat if it isn't in your way. {I didn't bother asking them to put it back down once finished. I learnt long ago to pick my battles & right now putting the seat down is very low on the list of parenting warfare.}</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Rule #3</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Watch where you are weeing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How do you know if you are meeting water with water when you are staring at the ceiling or looking over your shoulder? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To reiterate - hold & watch, from beginning to end.<br /><br /><u>Rule #4</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you make a mess, clean it up. If you need help, ask.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We went back to basics, even though we had covered all of these back at the beginning when they first began running around in jocks. With these rules {verbally back in place} I was hopeful. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hopeful my days of soggy socks from stepping in some one's wee were over. Wiping seats, behind lids, walls & floors with disinfectant could be done less than five times a day. Minimum.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For a few days it helped. Lake Bonney never returned & but for a few splashes here & there, it seemed they were taking their responsibilities as boys seriously. Then every now & again I would find a puddle returned, or the beginnings of a yellow shower over a seat that hadn't been lifted. I was able to rule out Ben from the offending list. That still left Jack, Blake & Will. It appeared each of them were guilty, in random order, of breaking one {or all of} the toilet commandments.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Through constant reminding & follow up checks, we're slowly getting to a clean & visitor safe lavatory. Most of the time anyway. If they make a mess they do clean it up - to the best of their ability. The seat & lid now both stay down, so if they need to pee they lift both instead of aiming over the seat. Every boy is holding their hose & watching where they are aiming - a big win.<br /><br />Seriously, I never imagined getting boys to use & leave the toilet in a clean state would be such an on going drama. We were not lazy with their toilet training or have low standards of personal care & hygiene. It just seems that they are too busy & find the need to vacate their bladder a time consuming interruption to their days. So it was done as quickly & as haphazardly as possible. After all there are soccer balls to kick, bikes to jump & scooters to ride. Who has time to go to the toilet anyways.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In a predominantly XY gene'd large family two toilets are not a luxury.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They are a necessity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-67512016384689193102015-02-21T12:46:00.001+10:302015-02-21T12:46:37.879+10:30The best chocolate chip cookies EVAH!<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We all know I love me some chocolate chip cookies. Over the years I have tried & tested all the cookie recipes - brown sugar or white sugar, eggs or no eggs, condensed milk or no condensed milk. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Countless hours in the kitchen & I have the recipe down to perfection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Out of the oven they are super fudgey. I recommend taste tasting the cookie dough prior to cooking - roughly every seven balls rolled & placed on the tray for optimal quality control.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Best Evah Chocolate Chip Cookies</span></h3>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AWHFy38mw1k/VOfo4oDt0vI/AAAAAAAAG_Q/BVGo1_skYNw/s1600/cookieplate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AWHFy38mw1k/VOfo4oDt0vI/AAAAAAAAG_Q/BVGo1_skYNw/s1600/cookieplate.jpg" height="193" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">175 grams Unsalted butter, softened</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3/4 tin Condensed milk</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 teaspoon Baking powder</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/4 cup Caster sugar</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 cups Plain flour</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">250 grams (or so...) Chocolate chips (white, milk chocolate or dark - or all three)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Preheat oven at 170 celcius & line two baking trays with baking paper.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cream the butter & sugar together in a large mixing bowl. With an electric mixer, beat in the condensed milk (feel free to be quite liberal here, often I put in nearly all of the condensed milk. The more the merrier) Beat for two minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sift in the plain flour & baking powder together, gently stir with a spoon until just combined. Add the chocolate chips & combine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Place teaspoonful balls on the baking trays 2cm apart. Once all the cookie balls are on the trays gently roll each one between your palms, then flatten slightly.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MHdrMkbQc4o/VOfpDFdo7KI/AAAAAAAAG_s/cKN6I2aG_HE/s1600/cookiesraw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MHdrMkbQc4o/VOfpDFdo7KI/AAAAAAAAG_s/cKN6I2aG_HE/s1600/cookiesraw.jpg" height="222" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bake for 10-15 minutes until lightly golden.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Remove from oven, cool for two minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eat.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7SctilVNyxo/VOfpBf-xgkI/AAAAAAAAG_k/9FW9gsLCMYw/s1600/cookietrio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7SctilVNyxo/VOfpBf-xgkI/AAAAAAAAG_k/9FW9gsLCMYw/s1600/cookietrio.jpg" height="206" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Makes approximately 44 cookies {depending on how much of the dough you ingest for quality control & the size of your cookies}</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-37106345063772607042015-02-10T14:11:00.001+10:302015-02-10T14:11:58.170+10:30Who knew I had so much time on my hands to waste<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's not very often I say this, but Doug is right. I have little to no self control when it comes to technology & social media. I know I read <i>a lot </i>& my Facebook app is opened several times a day. Ebay is my friend & Pinterest an enabler. I don't watch tv, because I don't have time too. I'm too busy flicking through watch lists, re-pinning two-minute-hairstyles-for-long-hair & liking statuses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On a bad day, it's really bad. A quick ten minute check of Facebook, follow a few links, catch up on a blog or two & hello it's time to pick the kids up from school. The floors still need sweeping. Dried weet-bix super glued forever more to the breakfast bowls. Washing to be pulled out the dryer {& dumped on the precariously balanced, gravity defying folding pile}. The coffee ring stains on the table next to the laptop & butt imprints left on the warm seat tell the tale of a less than arduous day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is only the beginning. A browse through Ebay, looking at furniture on the cheap I could revamp or fitbits to get me motivated on the whole 10,000 steps a day thing. Which isn't happening as I check out the local real estate to see what's happening on the market in the general area we live, before jumping onto a parenting forum & stalking the TTC* & HPT, OPK & BFP's** forums. We aren't ttc ourselves, putting a definite stop to my own POAS*** addiction, it's been years since I've stood next to a window, turning a pregnancy test this way & that looking for the <b>faintest</b> sighting of a second line. But I can & will stalk every other woman who is desperately hoping to </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">see the feintest of feint second pink line that speaks to the whispers of life. Praying faceless </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">strangers who understand their tight grip on hope can also see that miraculous second line, affirming it's positive status. T</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">here's nothing like seeing a photo of multiple positive pregnancy tests that go from 'just maybe' to 'you are thoroughly up the duff'. Gives me goosebumps & a fair case of envy every time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the end of the day, I like to finish up with a quick flick through Pinterest at 11pm, before turning out the lights...At 1am. After the muted glare from my phone has woken Doug. I'm thirty two years old & still shouldn't be allowed to control my own bedtime. Then of course, I can't sleep with my thinker set to 'redesign-the-whole-fricken-house' mode. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not starved for social interaction, I get my grown up conversation every morning & afternoon at the kids school & when Doug gets home from work in the evening. There's no coherent conversations in the morning between us. Given I go to bed at stupid o'clock & Doug gets up for work at ridiculous o'clock, our morning interactions are usually limited to Doug kissing me goodbye with sweet whispers of love & have a good day. In response I smear the dribble from the pillow all over my cheek, mumble something about putting the shoes in the shower before stumbling my way up from slumber to coherently forming sentences that bumble along the lines of "love you too, have a good day. See you tonight." By the time the kids are ready for school I am more than ready to start talking to people over the age of ten & stop saying things like "have you brushed your teeth yet?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Socks & shoes, guys, let's go, come on!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Ben, stop talking to Jack about your clash of clans base."<br /><br />"Jack! get dressed!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Is your bag packed? Diary, lunch box, drink bottle, homework."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once Ben, Rianan, Jack & Blake are at school, I return home with just two of our little minions & flick the kettle on, ready for some more social interaction. Because that ten minutes outside the classroom was only a warm up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All is not lost, some days I don't even turn the computer on, & the days that I do, my hours are in</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">terrupted. I get up to do the basic daily essentials our big household & little people require. But many minutes, many times a day are sucked into that blue void. Because people.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We all have our vices. Since the age of sixteen months mine has always been that I talk too much. Now I get to natter away even when there's no one at the table with me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The lingo</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*TTC</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">{trying to conceive}</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**HPT, OPK &BFP {home pregnancy test, ovulation predictor kit & big fat positive's}</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***POAS {Pee on a stick} a ovulation predictor or pregnancy test, <i>e</i>ither e<i>i</i>ther</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-76589704766133829222015-01-30T20:23:00.002+10:302015-01-31T19:58:54.393+10:30Liebster Award : Get to know the voice behind the blog<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Exciting! House of many Minions first award. Thanks <a href="http://www.mummamcdblogs.com/" target="_blank">Mumma McD</a> for the nomination (head on over & have a read) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">If you enjoyed reading my <a href="http://houseofmanyminions.blogspot.com.au/2014/12/fifty-in-two-hundred-days.html" target="_blank">Fifty in two hundred days post</a> then you're likely to read to the bottom of the page on this one too. The Liebster award is all about sharing the details & then sharing the love {of the award} to eleven blogs I visit regularly when I want to escape the chaos of these minions & pretend I'm in someone else's world for a few minutes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mumma McD has thrown eleven questions at me, so here goes...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How did you choose the name of your blog?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Five years ago I went through a sewing craze, making sleepy babies & fabric handbags. I briefly entertained the thought of taking these late night mini masterpieces to the local markets with the branding, 'House of many'. I never made it to the markets, I realised I preferred to read in my spare time more than I wanted to design, cut & sew, sew, sew. <br />The second part started up when the first 'Despicable Me' movie came out. We {I} love the little minion characters & all the antics they get up to in their efforts to helping Gru. Our own little minions often give us the same entertainment - whether we find it funny at the time or not until much later. I began affectionately calling the kids 'my little minions' - "okay, my little minions, it's time for bed/to get in the car/to get changed". </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">In June last year when I finally put this little space together, the name was ready & waiting for me. It's long, but it suits my blog. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How much time per week do you spend on your blog?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However much the kids & the housework lets me. Some weeks I might put up two or three posts because the little minions have either </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a) one or more of them have given me grief & I need to put it to the keyboard so I can see the lighter side of it, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">b) they've been exceptionally sweet, causing me to feel all lovey & warm n fuzzy - which often preludes the "I want another" posts, or, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">c) Inspiration hits & the words are going around in circles. Given my goldfish memory I need to get it all written out then & there before it vanishes to the same location as our forks & missing socks. {We seem to have a fast dwindling number of cutlery - forks especially.}</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">In answer, it could be one or two hours between opening <a href="https://www.blogger.com/" target="_blank">Blogger</a> & hitting 'Publish' each week. Or the kids may find me at the computer desk multiple times during that week over several broken hours. Plus lots of late nights.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was young enough to be influenced by my parents I wanted to be a lawyer - because a lawyer had to go to University & my parents wanted me to be the first in our family to tick that one off the bucket list. The other reasoning my nine year old self applied was lawyers {are perceived} to make bucket loads of money {to pay off their HECS debt}. I could buy my own pony & my own house. Once that dream evaporated I decided my love of animals should see me wearing a veterinary nurses uniform...Until my year 10 work experience in a veterinary clinic put me off. All that stinky dog smell & pissed off cats wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Ben's arrival in 2004 opened my eyes & I began contemplating Midwifery, & after Rianan's birth in 2006 I knew that was where I wanted to go in the future. Then we had another four little people who would need looking after while I was working odd shift hours & Doug was at work. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">These days the plan is looking something like me studying a Bachelor of Education when our youngest is at school. For now that is a minimum five years away, so we'll see what happens, when it happens.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last piece of clothing you purchased?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For me, or for anyone? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">For me the last piece of clothing I purchased was a bra, which didn't fit, because who wants to try on several bra's with several little people in tow? I picked out my size in the very limited maternity section (Clay is still a booby monster) & hoped for the best. I should know by now that hoping is futile when it comes to getting a perfect fit with the first choice the first time. I still need to find a time to go over the shoulder boulder holder shopping <em>without kids.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Otherwise, the last time I purchased an item of clothing was last night - a gorgeous outfit for the imminent arrival of a friend's baby girl. I miss baby girl clothes. Scratch that, I miss baby clothes full stop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where in the world do you live?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Limited details here - those who know me know where we live. For those who have never heard my voice, we live in a beautiful small country town with everything we could want nearby. Several photo worthy beaches only a short drive away, the Murray River within a half hours drive, shopping centres are close enough I can visit them frequently (much to the despair of our bank accounts) & Adelaide isn't an impossibly long drive away. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I love where we live & couldn't imagine living anywhere else. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Favourite television show at the moment?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Right now there isn't anything I'm watching. Come April though when the second instalment of 'Outlander' begins, then I can answer properly. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I don't watch a lot of tv, however a good documentary, labor & birth programs, Grey's Anatomy & of course the above mentioned, Outlander, always capture my attention & are usually worthy of putting down the book for.<br />If this question was 'favourite book I've ever read', then this answer would have been much longer. I've read twice as many books as I've watched tv shows over the last few years. <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j0L3USC4ZfY/VMrv-KrKflI/AAAAAAAAGmc/0tiz0AS9Dyo/s1600/MOBY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j0L3USC4ZfY/VMrv-KrKflI/AAAAAAAAGmc/0tiz0AS9Dyo/s1600/MOBY.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Favourite actor/actress?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Am I boring if I don't have one? My favourite actor or actress is usually whoever is bringing their character to life, that has me completely mesmerised in the character they are immersing themselves in. (Same answer goes for authors too. Self confessed book nerd.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How do you relax?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Top of the list is <strike>eating</strike> devouring chocolate chip cookies dipped into a large {very large} mug of steaming hot chocolate. However my jeans don't like when I do this more than once a day, so I read - a lot. Just in case you missed that little memo.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Then you get the stock standard answers, catching up with friends over a meal someone else has cooked, long walks on the beach, that kind of stuff. But that takes time & co-ordination of diaries & baby sitters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Do you have a nickname? Or did you have one as a child?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The only nickname you can get from Hayley is Hales, or Hayley-Bayley. Both of which I've been called over the last thirty odd years, neither of which has stuck. Thank goodness. <br />Doug has a nickname for me, as nearly all couples do, which only he calls me (or the kids when they're being cheeky!) & I don't think that counts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How do you take your coffee?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Usually white with two sugars. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At home I drink either a latte from the coffee machine with only one sugar, or a Nescafe Cappuccino or Latte sachet. Just what I need for the 4pm after school pick up, pick me up.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M2WP8s1J92w/VMrwqljELlI/AAAAAAAAGmk/FlBZ9MzvTX0/s1600/mug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M2WP8s1J92w/VMrwqljELlI/AAAAAAAAGmk/FlBZ9MzvTX0/s1600/mug.jpg" height="320" width="284" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How many hours sleep do you get each night?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm pretty lucky at the moment. Right now I'm averaging between six & eight hours sleep each night. Guaranteed one of the younger three minions will wake me up at least once, either to expel liquid or to ingest liquid. The last ten years have conditioned me to waking up at least once or twice, so it doesn't affect my sleep as much as, say, more than five wake ups a night would. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">11 random facts about me...</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I have to think really hard for something you wouldn't already know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">1. I'm a sucker for any personality quiz. I thank Dolly & Girlfriend magazines for starting this habit back in 1995.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">2. I love buttered salt & vinegar crisp sandwiches. Especially with crinkle cut instead of thin crisps.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">3. Despite managing to {most of the time} keep on top of the housework & having six children to do almost everything for {not really but it seems like it some days}, I am a sloth at heart & would love nothing better than to lie on the couch all day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">4. My star sign is Virgo</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">5. My favourite chocolate is Rocky Road, since Cadbury has discontinued 'marble'.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">6. I don't wear perfume. I do wear deodorant, don't get confused there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">7. My first kiss was on a summer holiday in Victoria when I was 13.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">8. The further away from the city we move the more I love our lifestyle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">9. We found out the genders of five out of our six pregnancies. That one time we didn't find out was torture not knowing (even though we chose not to find out before the birth).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">10. I'm a believer in fate & of an afterlife. Specifically what, no idea, but there is something more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">11. If our house was big enough & Doug could keep his hair, I would probably have ten children. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Now the fun part - my nominee's. Here are 11 of my favourite blogs {I'm breaking the rules a little, as each nominee is meant to have less than 200 followers, one or two may have a few more than that}</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">1. <a href="http://www.thelaneyfiles.com/" target="_blank">The Laney Files</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">2. <a href="http://www.limeandmortar.com/" target="_blank">Lime & Mortar</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">3. <a href="http://keepcalmgetorganised.com.au/" target="_blank">An Organised Life</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">4. <a href="http://www.yourkidsot.com/" target="_blank">Your Kids OT </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">5. <a href="http://lookingformamame.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Looking for Mama Me</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">6. <a href="http://bombardedmum.com/" target="_blank">Bombarded Mum</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">7. <a href="http://www.maxabellaloves.com.au/" target="_blank">Maxabella Loves</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">8. <a href="http://themummyandtheminx.com/" target="_blank">The Mummy & the Minx</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">9. <a href="https://quackandskip.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Quack + Skip</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">10. <a href="http://ilovetoopshop.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">I Love to Op Shop</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">11. <a href="http://www.coloursaturatedlife.com/" target="_blank">Colour Saturated Life</a> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here are my eleven questions for you bloggers:</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1.</span> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What pushed you over the edge to take your blog from an idea to a reality?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. Which bloggers inspire you? Why?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">3. Vegemite, promite or marmite?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">4. Tell us about one of your most cherished memories.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">5. Your favourite blogging tip</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">6. The best life lesson you learnt from high school?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">7. Summer or winter?<br />8. What do you love most about yourself?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">9. If you could meet one person, famous or average Susie walking down the street, who would you meet? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">10. Spare time? Where can we find you if you get it?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">11. Lastly, if you had 48 hours completely to yourself, how would you spend them?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each nominee has to follow six easy rules:</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. Acknowledge the blog that nominated you & display the Liebster Award on your blog.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2. Answer eleven questions that the blogger gives you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3. Give eleven random facts about yourself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">4. Nominate eleven blogs that you think are deserving of the award, have less than 200 followers (Go off the number of Facebook and/or Bloglovin' followers if you can tell from the blog).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">5. Let those bloggers know you've nominated them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">6. Give them eleven questions to answer</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That concludes tonight's post. If you made it to this final paragraph - Go You! Now head on over & have a browse of the blogs I've roped into this little get to know you thing. You'll be glad you did. </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-50587826552154829302015-01-21T21:04:00.000+10:302015-01-21T21:06:16.091+10:30A new era - The first week of school<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next week marks the beginning of a new era for Blake, venturing off into the big wide world of school for the first time. He's ridiculously excited to be joining the bigger minions in the 'big school boy' category, & I hope just as ready. As for me, as excited as I show for him, on the inside a small part of me is aching, dreading letting go that little bit more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With having prepared {nearly} four little people for their debut into school life, I thought I would share a few tips that have worked in our house & helped make the transition easier - for both of us.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VomTq5oanvA/VL9PJ7zTAxI/AAAAAAAAGeE/NAiv7qjXnoM/s1600/backtoschoolshoesedit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VomTq5oanvA/VL9PJ7zTAxI/AAAAAAAAGeE/NAiv7qjXnoM/s1600/backtoschoolshoesedit.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lunchboxes & drink bottles</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With shelves & online stores bursting with a wide variety of lunchboxes & drink bottles, the choice can be overwhelming. From plain old school style lunchboxes to lunchboxes consisting of several separate compartments, lunchboxes filled with little containers, along with a range of insulated lunch bags - all ranging from five dollars to fifty dollars. Confusing much?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We've tried all of the above over the years & the best advice is to choose one that will be simple & easy for your child to open & close. Remember to check any smaller containers as well. What <i>looks</i> the most appealing may not be the most practical. Once you get home, let them practice using their new lunchbox & drink bottle. Also name anything & everything - especially if your choice includes smaller containers. {Remember to stick a label on the lids too!}</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first Good-Bye</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh it's an emotional one. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Regardless of how </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> are feeling, show enthusiasm & confidence in your child on that first {& subsequent} morning. It's likely they will be looking to you for cues on how to respond to this new experience & if you're showing hesitation they will pick up & mimic this. Hold it together until you're out of the classroom. Then put on your over sized sunnies & pull out the Kleenex, keeping the tissues close by...all day. Especially if you're tear ducts are like mine & prone to leaking for the smallest of reasons.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As for when to finally say good bye & leave the classroom, watch their teacher for cues. Usually I've found teachers like the parents to say their final good bye's within five to ten minutes of the bell. As much as I might like to prolong that final moment, sometimes hanging around too long can cause tears {from both of us}. If the bell has gone, your child is all unpacked, settled & waiting for their school day to start, be ready to say good bye. Then do it & leave. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lastly aim to be a few extra minutes early. This is not a morning you'll want your child to feel rushed or add any extra pressure on to. There's plenty of time in the future to arrive just as the bell is ringing over the coming months & years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Routines</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even though Blake is familiar with the morning & afternoon school runs, we have been talking about what he needs to do in the morning to get ready & what will happen once we get to his classroom. Not in great detail - covering getting dressed into his school uniform, making sure he packs his hat & can put on his own shoes. Once at school he'll need to unpack his school bag - putting his lunchbox away, drink bottle on his table, his hat into his named tray & then lastly putting his bag in his allocated space. Knowing what is likely to happen on the school mornings eases the change of routine, helping the unfamiliar to feel more familiar.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We also make sure he knows </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">where the toilet is, what to do if he feels lost or scared, who to ask for help & where he can go to find help. With older siblings at</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> the same school we have also talked about not wandering around the school yard to look for them in case he gets lost & to stay with his class for recess & lunch {at least for the first week}.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After school</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In that first month of school commencing, we always keep our after school activities & errands to a minimum. Ideally we head straight home from school, with a snack ready & waiting for them - muffins, a fruit platter with a small bowl yogurt, dip with crackers & vegetable sticks. Get into the habit of unpacking bags from that first day </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- encouraging them to pack & unpack their own bags. It fosters a great sense of independence as well as setting strong habits that you'll be grateful for in a couple of years down the track. Consider bringing</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> dinner time forward a little earlier than usual. T</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he first month of starting school has always been a big shock to our minions little bodies & often I would find them flaked out on the couch before dinner was ready. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Communicate</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Never be afraid to talk to your child's teacher, about anything. Whether it's about something that's happening in your lives at home - trivial or important, positive or not so positive. Knowing what is going on in their little students lives is helpful. Address any concerns relating to your child early, if something isn't working well or your child is having trouble adjusting let their teacher know so you can work together to help your child. Same goes for any positive feedback, teachers love to hear good news!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hopefully some of these help you, or inspire other ideas to ease the transition into beginning school for the first time. Over the coming weeks y</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">our ears will probably fall off with all their tales about their new school adventures, who they played with, which lessons they had, when they cried after falling over on the pavement. That's another heart wrencher, the first time they hurt themselves & it wasn't you who cleaned up the scrape & wiped away the tears.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jzKbw92RqO8/VL9PWZUj7_I/AAAAAAAAGeQ/awfDltPziCA/s1600/Blaketoschool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jzKbw92RqO8/VL9PWZUj7_I/AAAAAAAAGeQ/awfDltPziCA/s1600/Blaketoschool.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's a new chapter that brings a lot of changes, but the best part is watching your child learn, seeing them form & grow new friendships, watching their self confidence soar with their new independence & skills.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now we just have two more to go. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-52448757552061536622015-01-17T22:55:00.000+10:302015-01-17T22:55:25.528+10:30What does a Mum do with forty eight hours of minion free time? <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last week five of the minions went to Grandma's house for a big sleepover. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two nights. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Three days. Almost. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh em gee. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Aff7yFBH7Mw/VLpQVUnlZXI/AAAAAAAAGb8/HITGKJxwabk/s1600/boysblocksJan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Aff7yFBH7Mw/VLpQVUnlZXI/AAAAAAAAGb8/HITGKJxwabk/s1600/boysblocksJan.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My hypothetical "What I would do if I had two whole days of no kids" became a reality. I could have wet my pants I was that excited. The only times Doug & I have had more than twenty four hours minus our minions have been when we were welcoming another little one into our tribe & a few years ago when we celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary with a two night get away. Though Will wasn't yet a year old, so our packing list included a porta-cot & a baby.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back to last week though. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With a kick in my step & a tear in my eye I kissed Ben, Rianan, Jack, Blake & Will good bye, squeezing little bodies tight enough to last us all until Friday afternoon, before driving Clay & I back home to our quiet, empty house.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZXzLZo5Q1aU/VLpP-k5sGII/AAAAAAAAGbs/SHv_vT3tKNQ/s1600/JackClayJan1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZXzLZo5Q1aU/VLpP-k5sGII/AAAAAAAAGbs/SHv_vT3tKNQ/s1600/JackClayJan1.jpg" height="126" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had planned to sap every last minute out of my {mostly} minion free days. The to-do list was nearly as long enough to rival our weekly shopping list. Furniture to sand back & re-paint, toy rooms to set up & bedrooms to change around, endless uninterrupted hours curled up on the couch reading with a hot chocolate in hand, walk in robes to de-clutter & drawers to sort through, cafes to visit & movies to watch </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">during the day.</i><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So what did I do with my first three hours? Be prepared to be vastly disappointed...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dishes & Facebook.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What is wrong with me.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Without my little anchors I was lost. Adrift in the sea of freedom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even Clay was misplaced by the stillness of quiet & solitude. No brothers around building wooden block towers for Clay to swipe with his chubby little hands & his doting sister no where to be found despite how extensive he searched & how loud he tried to call out. The one on one time with Clay was precious, but it was not the same playing peek a boo with just Mummy. Kisses goodnight for only <i>two </i>people instead of making our way around the couches to receive seven goodnight kisses. There was no one to chase around the house or to laugh when he flashed his cheeky, toothy grin.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-08_djsztRuM/VLpQGIv1XKI/AAAAAAAAGb0/2y5F9cdsPf4/s1600/JackClayJan2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-08_djsztRuM/VLpQGIv1XKI/AAAAAAAAGb0/2y5F9cdsPf4/s1600/JackClayJan2.jpg" height="149" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But oh my, the house <i>stayed clean.</i> No need to enter the laundry or hear the chiming end to another load of washing. The dishwasher was run only once. The broom stood idle & the vacuum gathered cobwebs & dust instead of sucking them up. The mop even had a chance to dry before the next use.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Doug came home from work we were able to carry through uninterrupted conversations. This is unheard of. We</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> went out to dinner {with Clay} </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">two nights in a row. </i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two nights. Consecutively. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday morning Clay & I didn't get out of bed until ten in the morning. While it didn't erase the duffel bags under my eyes, rolling out of bed when the sun was already high & shining bright certainly felt luxurious & indulgent.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The old buffet cabinet I planned to re paint is still sitting in the shed awaiting it's restoration, there were no barista made latte's, bedroom doors remained tightly shut, walk in robes looked exactly the same as they had Wednesday morning & no movies were watched, day or night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However I did manage a few uninterrupted hours of reading before the change of pace kicked back into V8 Supercar speed.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LG8HwmGCSp8/VLpPup7RPBI/AAAAAAAAGbk/bGmxY9evLbM/s1600/ClaylostJan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LG8HwmGCSp8/VLpPup7RPBI/AAAAAAAAGbk/bGmxY9evLbM/s1600/ClaylostJan.jpg" height="320" width="217" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seems forty eight hours wasn't long enough. Then again, maybe it was. Our lives were never meant to be that quiet.</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-8067974193628283802015-01-08T17:22:00.000+10:302015-01-17T22:55:44.358+10:30Six reasons why six is better than seven<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>The problem with letting the cobwebs come take residence here, when you notice the days on the calender flicking by, it gets harder to open the next post up...</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Where in my washing basket have the last twenty two days gone?! Apologies for the unintended hiatus. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Twenty two days & not a word, no "Merry Christmas", no "Happy New Year". Just dust & cobwebs. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**<i>Ten minutes later...</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How do you start a post after falling off the face of the cyber world for three weeks? With an explanation for why the desertion? {Christmas, school holidays, procrastination, too many kids to hear myself think} </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or should I mindlessly type about our Christmas & New Years? {both were good, kids were spoilt & deliriously happy with their gifts, the days were blessedly uneventful & filled with smiles & memories}.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe I should pose the question to you - how was your Christmas & New Years celebrations? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perhaps it's best to just close my eyes, pinch my nose & dive straight in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Why six children is better than seven</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Six is an even number. This is the golden rule, always finish on an even number. Supposedly so no one is left out. I can attest that is a load of soggy weet-bix. Even or odd, someone is left out. Not always, but still often enough to hear "Muuuum, Ben & Jack aren't letting me watch" or "Muuuuum, Rianan & Ben aren't letting me play" every ten minutes for the last four weeks. Even numbers do not bestow miraculous sibling contentment. But I'm meant to be presenting the positives here, not arguing against myself. So, Six is awesome because it's not odd.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- There is still a {teeny tiny} range of normal cars to choose from. By normal I mean not a child care bus & still has </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">eight seats.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Hyundai Imax, Kia Grand Carnival, Toyota Tarago, Mitsubish Prado, Toyota Landcruiser, plus a few imported cars like the Elgrand & Delica. After this it is a mini bus for you & your small army.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Packets of muesli bars, chips, muffins, even picnic dinner sets all come as a set of half a dozen. One for each little person. The picnic sets can even be color assigned for each minion. Perfect. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- When holding hands to cross a road or walking through a busy event, everyone pairs off nicely. {There's that even number thing again}. Leaving one or both parents with two arms free...To carry all the extra bags full of food, drinks, hats, sunscreen, spare socks, undies, clothes, a random shoe & a token teddy, plus all the other useless paraphernalia that you need to drag along everywhere you go. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Dining tables. A variety of choices for eight seater dining tables. Long ones, square ones, round ones. Seats, benches, seat & benches. Same for couches, eight people will fit on a big modular couch, or two long couches. That seventh kid would just have to sit on the arm rest. (Joke. The floor is just as comfortable I'm sure.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- In a four bedroom house six children with two to a room is a perfect fit. Who could argue with that logic?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did it work, have I convinced you that six is the new seven? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me neither. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even though on paper six children fits into our life {& house} nicely, my maternal body clock driving all these crazy baby growing urges apparently can't read or listen to logic. T</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hese ovary clenching, love filled sighs for one more little minion have me packing away the outgrown newborn clothes & toys to the back of the cupboard instead of selling them or passing on to someone else who could use them. Because I'm still hoping {against all hope, reason & logic} that we'll use them...just one more time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*<i>This is not a pregnancy announcement. Before you all start rubbing my Christmas belly & high fiving Doug. </i></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-10762572136300959742014-12-20T16:15:00.000+10:302014-12-21T20:55:00.963+10:30Fifty in two hundred days<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Guess what today is? Other than five days before Christmas. Today marks House of many Minions 50th blog entry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I considered writing something with Christmas spirit, after all we are in the twelve days of Christmas. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I present to you 50 things that make me, Me.</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. I got my first job at fourteen - washing dishes at a local popular beach side restaurant.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. I was a hypochondriac as a child. Specifically for sprained wrists or ankles. I woulds s</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">neak into the first aid box, grab a bandage & strap myself up then try & remember</span> <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">how I was supposed to limp to make it believable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. I spent my first year of high school at a private catholic school, where none of my primary</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> school friends went. I begged my parents to enroll me in the local public high school, </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">which they did at the beginning of the new school year. Of course by then all my friends from primary school had formed new </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">friendship groups, so I was left on the outer, just like year eight </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">again.</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4. I mispronounce & muddle up words when talking & look like an uneducated fool </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">all the time</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. Following on from mispronouncing, I call vineyards <i>vine-yards {</i>not <i>vin</i>yards} & instead of pronouncing </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">archives </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ar'kives </i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still say ar</span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ch</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ives. It's a constant source of amusement for Doug.</span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6. I broke my two front teeth at year 7 camp while ice skating. They are still a source </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">insecurity today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7. When we go out for dinner nine times out of ten I'll order either salt n pepper squid or </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">chicken parmigiana. When you're on a good thing, stick with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">9. My childhood was gaming device free. So whenever we went to my cousin's house I </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">would beg them to play Alex Kidd on SEGA. I still love that game even though I haven't </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">played it in twenty something years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">10. I attended five different schools - three primary schools & two high schools.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">11. I have had four jobs in my life - dishwasher {working my way up the ranks to occasionally making the take-away baguette's}</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">. As a pet shop assistant {it always creeped m</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">e out getting dead frozen rats out the freezer for our snake owning customers.} Then I </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">worked at a well known burger & fries joint for two years before saying goodbye to work a</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">s a 3rd assistant manager for a variety store, working there for just under three years u</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">ntil I resigned at thirty seven weeks pregnant. Ten days later Ben gave me my current p</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">osition that I have held for over ten years now. Isn't there some long service leave I'm </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">past due for...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">13. I married Doug one month before my nineteenth birthday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">14. I learnt to play the guitar for several years in my early teenage years. For some reason I </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">stopped playing {& deeply regret it}.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">15. I got my first body piercing when I was 15 years old, without permission.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">16. I've had my tongue pierced, labret pierced & belly button pierced. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">17. I had my belly button re-pierced when I was 24 & still have it in today. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">18. Unless it's over thirty degrees at night I always sleep with the electric blanket on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">19. On our first wedding anniversary Doug & I won a thousand dollars at the casino on the</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">20. I played soccer, netball, softball & tae kwon do in primary school.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">21. I was never smacked as a child - at least that I can remember.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">22. Unless I know you really well I can be shy & find it hard to make the first conversation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">26. I cry, easily & at almost everything. I also try to hide it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">27. I suck at long division & decimals. I never grasped chemistry either. However algebra & I are friends. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">29. I love funky or pretty mugs, geisha doll & babushka doll images.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">30. I'm possessive of my chocolate chip cookies & give Doug the stink eye when he gives one to our dog.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">33. I hoard interior design magazines like Pinterest pins. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">34. For nine years I was an only child, then my first brother came along followed by my baby brother eighteen months later.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">35. I find it exceptionally easy to devour a small tin of MiLo in one sitting...without milk. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">36. I used to wish my name was Sophie because it seemed like such a cool name when I was ten.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">38. Though I'm right handed I can write legibly with my left hand, albeit very slowly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">39. My longest labor was four hours. My shortest labor was twenty minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">41. I'm not nearly as profound, insightful or funny as I wish to be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">43. Love Grey's Anatomy & the book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">46. I hate licorice. Always have.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">47. After growing up right near the beach I could never move far away from it. The salt & sand is in my blood.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There you go, fifty random things about me to celebrate fifty posts. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-57515465088603872272014-12-09T09:26:00.000+10:302014-12-09T09:26:31.123+10:30The mother of all tantrums <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>{Don't let his cheeky face lead you </i></span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">into </i></div>
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<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a false sense of security.</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Even if he is a little bit cute.}</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once again brought to you by Murphy's law. Does he even spy & eavesdrop on anyone else, or am I just lucky?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was mentally composing a post on how my mothering skills are so brilliant, that without even trying Clay no longer sleeps swaddled up*. He simply holds a corner of his wrap in one hand & sucks the fingers of his other hand, soothed by the sounds of his siblings screams & the front door right next to his room crashing closed every two minutes, he peacefully drifts off to the land of Zzz. There was no forethought, no plan or decision made to stop swaddling Clay. Just a natural progression that evolved from Clay turning into a little houdini & me not re-wrapping every thirty seconds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In this post there may have been sentences how my awesomeness is so awesome that we have even managed to stop swaddling when some of the other minions were babies without any major disruptions to their (or our) normal sleeping patterns, setting a new pb record for three babies in a row now. I know, right? I hate me a little too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The un-swaddling process with Rianan & Jack was such a production that was fraught with anxiety & scouring outdated parenting magazines by torchlight at 3am for that one miracle tip that would make all our dreams finally happen. Literally...Please. With Ben it was a non-issue - he just didn't sleep to require any elaborate ten step process to ditch the muslin wrap. Then along came the fourth child who just raises himself. My skillz are so stinkingly sparkly that I don't even have to try anymore. As if my maternal ego needed to get any bigger, Will & Clay come along breezing their way through our family dynamics, cementing the theory that after three children status level Effortless Expert is applied.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When really I should have just shut the hell up & been eternally grateful for Clay's placid & easy going nature.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not thirty minutes later from declaring {in written draft form} we're acing this baby raising gig & feeling a little clever, the tantrum of all hell breaking lose tantrums occurred. You can put the voodoo doll & pins away, karma found me swift & proper. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Venturing to the shops with four of the minions, we enter into the first of two shops. A knick-knack el cheapo store, to buy a present for Rianan's five dollar secret santa classroom exchange. The standard disclosure was uttered to Blake & Will as we entered the store - do not touch anything, stay with me. Will was <i>adamant</i> he was not going to hold my hand, squirming away the minute there was any skin to skin contact. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Always under-estimate a three year old. When you think they will listen, never expect them too. When you think they will follow the examples of their older siblings, do not presume they will. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was my first mistake, having faith where none should be. Will touched, he picked up, he knocked boxes off shelves in an effort to put the one in his hand back on the shelf. He wandered up & down the aisles, around the corners blocking the path of other customers, spinning sticker stands, & presenting me with cards we didn't need. As quick as possible our secret santa purchases were made & I took my little hot handed boy out of there. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stepping away from the store entrance & in an open aired environment to help dis-spell the intensity of any imminent world ending cries, I tell Will I am now holding his hand while we walk around the car-park to the next store. Cue EPDPT {Epic Public Display of Preschooler Tantrum}. Instant psycho killer attacking me screaming, beetroot purple face, spaghetti legs & twisty, verge of dislocating the shoulder body drops. This continued on for twenty minutes. I kid you not. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We were a sight to shame even the most sympathetic grandparent & been-there-done-that-glad-it's-you-not-me fellow mums. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing but the freedom to walk to his own beat was going to mollify Will. Shame that the only choices I was willing to concede to were hold my hand or go in a trolley. Only I got to suffer the consequences. Putting on the I'm-ignoring-my-screeching-child mask, not daring to make eye contact with anyone over 4 foot tall & not a genetic link to me, I dashed around the store scooping items off the shelves, throwing them haphazardly into the trolley in between attempts to calm Will down - who was having <i>none of it.</i> Calming words were met with Will screaming louder & kicking his little legs back & forth against the trolley harder. Thank god the trolley we chose had a fully functioning seat belt with all three prongs intact...& that Will hasn't grasped the fine motor skills yet to get that sucker undone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Through the entire time Will did not fail in his pledge to set the bar higher for the next tantrum to end all tantrums. Meanwhile Clay just took in the front row experience from his familiar perch in a sling across my chest, with Rianan & Blake walking & chatting as if this was an everyday occurance. Thank god it's not, my nerve endings couldn't take it if it was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Consider this post my formal written apology for having gotten too big for my $8 Kmart ballet flats. Even if the intended post prior to Will's cutting me back down to size was tongue in cheek & highly over exaggerated. What I should have simply written is that</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Clay is sleeping really well at the moment though this is sure to change in the immediate future & Will, what can I say? He is three years old. 'Nuff said.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But that would be boring.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>*Swaddling : to bind an infant with long narrow strips of cloth to prevent free movement of their arms or disturbance from the startle reflex.</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://woolworthsbabyandtoddlerclub.com.au/baby/sleep-and-settling/is-swaddling-dangerous-for-my-baby/" target="_blank">{Image source}</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-11870134065113877072014-12-06T10:49:00.000+10:302014-12-06T10:49:17.384+10:30Super quick choc-chip muffins<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Totally cheating.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Totally don't care.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You're welcome.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-67500378334439463602014-12-04T21:57:00.001+10:302014-12-04T23:05:18.982+10:30NaBloPoMo status failed<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">November saw me committing to posting every day over here at HomM. Over on the right hand side in the blog archives, under November there <i>should be</i> (30) right next to it. I'm only seeing (7). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I signed up for NaBloPoMo {National Blog Promotion Month} I thought it would be, well not easy, though maybe not as hard as folding the washing. Folding washing is a tortuous task. As far as I'm concerned it sucks hairy dogs balls. I'd rather clean windows. Hang on, that's not true, especially if you could see the present state of our windows & the height of our clean washing pile<i>s.</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have a better analogy, I figured blogging everyday would be like cooking everyday. While it has to be done, some days you can choose to cook up a three ingredient spaghetti </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">bolognaise</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> (thank you </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dolmio</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> jar sauce) other days may find you serving up a roast pork with crackling, golden roast potatoes & crispy edged pumpkin, honey drizzled carrots, peas & beans tossed through melted garlic butter. With sticky date muffins topped with warm caramel sauce to pop that last button on your jeans.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For each day of November I planned to have proper posts where I would ramble about whatever hot topic was going viral, or about our minions as they are a constant source of inspiration & daily exasperation. A full roast dinner affair. Then those 'full bellied posts' would be interspersed with 'photo a day' snippets, or a recipe for muffins & cookies that find their way from the cooling racks to mere crumbs in ten minutes flat. Two minutes if I'm not watching those sneaky little hands. These would have been the 'three ingredient posts'. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then life happened & procrastination bit me on the arse, pigs might fly moments of rest found me on the couch instead of at the computer. Plus the kids needed to be fed fifty thousand times a day - not kidding. Doug expected to be able to wear clean clothes & I got sick of stepping on dirt & grit. Our exciting, riveting lives carried on full steam ahead NaBloPoMo or not. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unfulfilled plans & fabulous </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">unexecuted</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ideas are no stranger to me. Failing to deliver on the daily blogging front is not even close to the first time I've planned to do something that never happens. It also will not be the last. The only times I planned to do something & actually followed through, without fail or procrastination, was giving birth to our six little squawkers. Not that there was any choice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the fridge there are three To-Do lists - one for the immediate do today/tomorrow, another is the must-get-done-soon cleaning/organising/decluttering list, the last is projects/plans I want to do when I get a spare day or two. You know, sometime before the year 2024. Midnight is also a popular time for inspiration to hit. I'll lie there thinking of everything I want to get done the next morning, freeing me up for the rest of the day - all in between school drop offs & picks ups, cutting crusts of sandwiches for three year olds, slicing fruit into baby friendly fingers, stepping on toys, picking up toys, putting away toys, loading the washing machine, turning on the dryer, mopping little boy urine up off the toilet floor, de-fusing toddler tantrums...where was I? Oh that's right, mentally composing a get-your-shit-together-in-the-morning list at midnight. Then 7am rolls around, & I roll over in bed wishing the kids didn't have to go to school so I didn't have to get up. That midnight inspiration flies out the window at the hands of 9am's procrastination. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seems when I decide to commit to something habits from my high school days suddenly plague me, many a night before an essay was due would find me furiously scribbling away trying to make hasty indecipherable notes transform into a 1000 word essay. If there is a deadline sudden onset of last minute-</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">itis</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> & procrastination fever would always strike...oh look a diary filled with poems & frivolous, fleeting declarations of love from 1998, let's waste five hours pouring over every page. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As for unexecuted ideas, well there is an outfit of a creamy beige dress with purple tights that has never been worn. Though perhaps that is for the better. In store it seemed amuhzing however after getting home it seemed my enthusiasm had been left behind on the change room floor. Unless you count that in store try on, it has never been worn. I blame that purchase on those crazy post natal hormones & the fact my fashion choices were no longer dictated by the beach ball impersonating abdomen I had been sporting two months earlier. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The list of fruitless intentions is long - </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Packets of hair rollers used once in an unsuccessful attempt to create voluptuou</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">s waves.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Untouched circular knitting needles & balls of wool to make beanies. Along with several patterns bookmarked or Pinterested. Because it seems easier to relearn how to knit a beanie on circular needles than to quickly crochet another one. Totally makes sense.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- While we're on the topic of Pinterest, my crafty/foodie/kids activities/decorating inspiration folders are bursting with tutorials & recipes I whole heartedly intend to use one day in the near future. Just like the other millions of time poor, inspiration rich Pinterest followers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Bottles of japanese rice wine, boxes of pastry mix, packets of lentils & split peas going dusty & out of date in the pantry from a recipe never cooked. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Old glassless photo frames sitting behind a cabinet, waiting for the day I wipe them down, paint them pretty & hang them up in an abstract yet totally pulled together look. {That I can never seem to <i>quite </i>pull together on the wall the way I saw in my mind or in someone else's house.}</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- A $140 hair curling device I purchased after reading raving reviews, I have only used twice. Because when it comes down to sleep or pretty hair the sleep will win. Every. Single. Time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seriously I could go on. We're all the same though. There are so many 'things' we want to do - house projects to start or complete, recipes to try, places to see one day both near & far, Christmas shopping to do, friends to catch up with before <i>another</i> year is celebrated out with the new one cheered in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not sorry I couldn't keep up with everyone else participating in thirty days of blogging, one month soon I'll commit again with the hopes of being able to stick to it. Maybe I'll be successful next time & you'll get the roast dinner posts along with the simpler posts of photos & food in between.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, & if the mention of those delicious sticky date muffins had your stomach growling & your taste buds craving that caramel gooey goodness, I promise I'll put the recipe up this week. Pinky promise.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Then again </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">life may happen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Post script from Doug, when informed of my intentions to blog every day during November "if you planned to blog everyday we would have all starved to death & I would have been wearing the same undies for ten days straight. I'm glad you didn't."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Well, I didn't think it would have been that bad. Ben knows how to make toast & macaroni.</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-26359291296281034122014-11-28T21:35:00.001+10:302014-11-28T21:35:05.569+10:30Defining the perfect mother<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is a woman that exists, though no one has ever found her or met her. Mothers everywhere strive to be her. They follow her examples, strive to achieve all this woman accomplishes. We measure our own successes & failures against the precedent of this infamous idol of perfection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Perfect Mum.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last week I wrote a post <a href="http://houseofmanyminions.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/my-foray-with-post-natal-depression.html" target="_blank">My foray with postnatal depression</a> & one common thread kept repeating itself from almost everyone who messaged, commented or spoke with me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I wanted to be the perfect mum.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I pose the question here, what makes a perfect mum?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who stays home to raise her children - or is it the mum who returns to work to build a better future for her children?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who spends hours in the kitchen cooking every meal from bare scratch, with organic everything - or is it the mum who cooks quick nutritious meals in fifteen minutes flat?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who home schools her children - or the mum who drops her children off to school every weekday?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who bounced back to her former pre-baby svelte self - or is it the mum who still has her pregnancy weight five years on?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who breastfeeds her toddler - or the mum who lovingly gazes at her baby while he drinks formula from a bottle? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who puts her own dreams & aspirations on hold as she dedicates her whole self to raising her children - or the mum who regularly takes time away from her children to do things by herself that make her happy?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who keeps her house clean & tidy what seems every minute of every day - or the mum who has a sink full of dishes & a thick layer of dust coating most surfaces?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum with the perfect hair style & immaculately applied make up - or the mum with a hastily tied pony tail & baby vomit on her shoulder. In public.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who regularly sits down to do craft time with her children - or the mum who has an aversion to all things glitter & paint?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who always looks calm & serene - or the mum with the deep frown lines & stressed look upon her face?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it the mum who feeds & rocks her eleven month old baby to sleep - or the mum who follows a controlled crying routine?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I could go on. The helicopter parent, the attached parent, the free range parent, the authoritarian parent. All these labels confirm there is no perfect, ideal way to parent. A</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">t the end of the day</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> e</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">very child, every baby, every tweenager & teenager need the same bone deep conviction - they are loved without reserve. Everything always comes back to that - a soul deep, universe wide love.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So this perfect mum, this mythical creature that debilitates us, as she inspires us to reach further. I've never met her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see her though. I recognise her, in every mum I know. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every mum I see holding her back straight as she pushes her screaming, tantrum throwing toddler through the shop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see her as she puts jars of baby food & cans of formula in her trolley. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see her in the mum who home schools her children. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see her on my way to school when she's driving to work. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see her in the mums taking their child to playgroup. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I recognise her in the lone woman sitting quietly in a cafe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see her when she's pushing her child on the swings, kicking the ball at the park, building sandcastles at the beach. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see her when she's trying to reason with a defiant three year old, creating boundaries with a freedom seeking twelve year old, grasping for more patience with a sulky eight year old.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I spot her in waiting rooms when she is trying to stop her children from jumping on the chairs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see her doing the best she can, as she can, in that moment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My definition a perfect mum - it's every one of us.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></h4>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-62866419082694800302014-11-25T21:59:00.000+10:302014-11-25T21:59:30.460+10:3048 hours out of sync<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've doggone done it again. It's horrible to see you again Murphy, I wish you hadn't came.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last week, in a quiet peaceful moment of reflection {yes sometimes they do occur here in the home base of House of many minions} I was taking a moment to be grateful for our smooth, drama lacking lives. Oh the kids certainly keep us on our toes, but drama from outside sources, stress causing situations, dread in the pit of your stomach anxiety...we had been flying under the radar.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Up until I went and acknowledged it. It was not said out loud, but still was heard by somebody, something, somewhere. God. Universe. Deity of smugness. <i>'I am so grateful we haven't had any drama for a couple of years' </i>was my undoing. It was said with gratitude, with empathy for a few friends who haven't had a great time of late with situations largely out of their direct control.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sunday afternoon we had some news that changes our five year plan. It's not bad, it's not good, it just is. While it's still at least a year away (no, not #7) it unsettled the rest of our evening as we mulled over all the what if's, what to do's, & every potential scenerio that could develop over the next few years. Discussing </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">plans & emergency back up plans.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Right now it doesn't affect us immediately so we're putting it to the back of our minds, I'm sure everything will be just fine, but it was unsettling while the news was digesting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday, which should have been Doug's day off but he had to go in to work - though only for the morning, was going smoothly. Up until Doug's car wouldn't start. A quiet coffee before leaving in the wee dark hours of the morning...with the ignition off & the car headlights left on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not so bad in the scheme of things, we altered our plans for the remainder of the day but this in itself, if it had been the only speed bump, would have been forgotten days ago. Instead, it would come back into play within the next twelve hours.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why does everything go up shits creek at dinner time? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Blake & Will are crawling around & playing in the second lounge room, while Ben & Jack sit on the couch in there strategically building their clans on clash of clans. We p</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ulled the homemade pizza's out the oven the same moment Will lets out a blood curdling scream. Dropping the pizza on the stove top I dash into the lounge to see Will leaning against the couch howling dramatically...not bearing any weight on his left leg. Possible bone breaking scenarios flash through my mind as I reach Will & scoop him in my arms. Ben says, without looking up from his tab, Blake did it. Problem is, Ben didn't look up from his tab a minute earlier either to see it happen. So Blake unfairly gets told off for rough play. (Shortly after I apologised to Blake for telling him off for something he didn't do & wasn't his fault. Just another mark against me in the tally of parenting fails)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Looking down to assess the potential damage to Will's leg & there is blood trialing down towards his ankle from his shin. How on earth....Oh god how bad....bugger, this definitely needs stitches. There is a small but decent sized gash near his shin bone, with a fair chunk of skin missing (to reveal the deeper fatty flesh. Vom.) A week or so earlier, a picture frame fell off the cabinet, breaking the glass. Obviously it was cleaned up. All shards of glass were collected & a thorough vacuuming to top it off. Well, I thought all shards were found.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will, Clay & I go down to the Emergency department (in Doug's car) - where the staff were excellent. With Will's leg all cleaned up & both sides of his skin merging back together, we bundle back in the car ready to go home, excited show Daddy & the other minions his battle wound patch up {& have our dinner}. Brmmm, brmmm, brmmm, brmmm. Try again. Brmmm, brmmm, brmmm, brmmm. The dashboard display flashes check alternator with a picture of the battery. Don't have to be a mechanical goddess to know what that means. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But wait, it gets better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I phone Doug, who gathers the remaining four minions at home into my car to come rescue us. Not quite half an hour later, while still waiting for our knight in a Mitsubishi to arrive, I flick the ignition over again, just in case the car would start this time. I really wasn't expecting it to start. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But it does. Stupid car couldn't have done that half an hour ago though could it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At this point Murphy was sniggering his dirty little ass off at us. Because Doug arrives not one minute later. After </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pulling Blake out of bed. Getting them all in the car instead of into bed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I laugh. Doug rolls his eyes. We finally all get home<i>.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I vow, for the second time, to never think how smooth, for the most part, our life normally is. Murphy's Law is listening just a little to closely to take any chances, regardless of whether my {slightly complacent} thoughts are whispered through my mind or uttered from my lips. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Go away Murphy, it was not nice to see you.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1534427143729797265.post-11884563100960539692014-11-18T17:05:00.000+10:302014-11-18T17:05:37.580+10:30My foray with Post Natal Depression. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PG2FHezkdz8/VGrVewTiaWI/AAAAAAAAFIM/LmIAS5FGjt4/s1600/ben3hrs1sepia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PG2FHezkdz8/VGrVewTiaWI/AAAAAAAAFIM/LmIAS5FGjt4/s1600/ben3hrs1sepia.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>{Ben three hours new}</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Out with the placenta, in with the Dolly Parton boobs. When </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">your hormones change, flood in, it may catch you. I'm not talking the endorphins, they're the happy hormones. No, the despair, the dread, the frustration, the lonliness. Thoughts of what have I done?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Other times the little black cloud rolls in slowly. One little grey wisp at a time. Sneaky. H</span><span style="font-family: Arial;">arder to notice, u</span><span style="font-family: Arial;">nobservant to the gradual changes</span><span style="font-family: Arial;">. After all becoming a mother (for the first time or the eighth time) comes with a suitcase of upheaval. When life is already trying to find it's new axis, the seemingly smaller problems fly under the rated. In the beginning the little thoughts don't rate on the priority scale. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Post Natal Depression.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">This week is Antenatal & Postnatal Depression Week. Statistics show 1 in 7 women are diagnosed with Post Natal Depression. I believe the numbers are greater than that. How many women just keep going, even when they know their real self is hiding somewhere. Lost in all the mist.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">That was me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">After Ben was born, & I've written about <a href="http://houseofmanyminions.blogspot.com.au/2014/07/our-debut-into-parenthood.html" target="_blank">Ben's first year</a> before, it was so far from how I imagined life would be. Our baby was not the happy, content little boy I imagined during pregnancy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>{A very familiar sight}</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">He cried. He was so hard to get to sleep. He screamed. When he did sleep, he didn't sleep for long at all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">There was already so many changes during that time - leaving full time work to stay home full time, Doug changed employment which also meant a change in working hours from a flexible shift roster to a Monday to Friday working week, plus work was now further away too. He left earlier & was home later. All of a sudden I was home by myself with Ben from 6am to 6pm. Add in Ben's aversion to sleeping & constant crying, I became an ideal candidate for PND.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Initially I tried to convince everyone around me that I was fine. I was coping & happy. It was easy to know all the right things to say to the community health nurse when she would ask how I was, how my moods were. The new mothers survey - occasionally I felt a little sad [tick box] but over all I was happy [tick box] at least that was what my manipulated answers indicated. I was still convincing myself that I was fine, I wasn't ready to think that I wasn't coping. To admit failure. I didn't open up to anyone about how I was really feeling. Not to myself, not to Doug, which is silly but true. That is what post natal depression did - it changed <i>me</i>. I fought internally against myself all the time. Every thought became a battle. Sometimes I would be desperate for help, for someone to really see the conflict inside my mind. But when asked how I really was, the mask came on. I was my own worst enemy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I felt bad that Ben cried. A lot. Doug didn't do well with all the crying too, & after spending a long day at work & then driving home in peak hour traffic, I wanted to have it all together for Doug once he was home. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Instead of a hot dinner, I had to pass over a screaming baby, because I just needed half an hour without grasping for ways to calm our baby. Again, silly but true. It changed my normal rational thoughts into something else altogether.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">It was me who really wanted to start our family, my maternal clock was chiming loudly, while Doug was happy wait another few years, so when life wasn't perfect, I took all the problems on myself. Thinking I was the one who signed up for this, not Doug. My thinking was skewed (screwed). I felt guilty, accountable, for everything that was wrong with our baby, though none of it was my fault. This was the depression, the little dark voice telling me I had made my bed, now I had to lay in it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Slowly I began to lose myself. The way I was feeling, I thought it was just a new mum thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">When I thought of post natal depression images of women not being able to get out of bed came to mind. Constantly crying. Ignoring their baby or wanting as little as possible to do with him. Failing to bond. Crouched in a corner or against a wall. Shutting out the world & everyone in it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I didn't have problems getting out of bed each day. I didn't cry without good reason or desperation. I loved Ben & interacted with him (though at times it was with a forced smile. A happy mask because I didn't want to scar our child with buried memories of an expressionless Mum gently shaking a rattle in front of him) I only sat against a wall when I was listening to Ben cry while taking a break from trying to rock him to sleep. I went to our local mothers group. We went for walks & family dinners.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I didn't have post natal depression - according to my thoughts of what post natal depression looked like.<br />
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But I did.<br />
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I knew I did, but I was in denial. I thought it would go away as Ben got older, got easier. <br /><br />
Maybe it would have, maybe not. I honestly can't say if I could have continued on the way I was feeling, without reaching for help.<br />
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My GP was great, we started a treatment plan for Ben's reflux, which was quite severe & a root cause for many issues we were having. I started taking anti depressants, along with regular visits to track & document my depression & Ben's reflux. I was advised that there may not be any noticeable differences for up to three weeks, so when within four days of commencing anti depressant medication I felt great, coinciding with Ben being a little more settled than usual as we got a handle on his reflux, I thought to myself 'Ha, I don't have depression, it's just when Ben has a bad day, it's hard. It's not me after all.'</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br />Without seeking medical advice first, I stopped taking the anti depressants. Two days later I crashed emotionally. I was back to how I felt two weeks earlier. Flat, unenthusiastic, sad, at times desperate. For what I can't specify. Perhaps desperate to feel like 'me' again. Desperate not to feel useless when our baby cried & I couldn't calm him. Desperate not to be stuck how I was feeling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">While I was back in my grey mist, Ben was still more settled & sleeping a lot easier. So it wasn't Ben. It was me as well. That was the moment I accepted I did have post natal depression.</span><br />
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Immediately I started taking the medication again & when we went back to the GP a few days later I told him everything that had happened. It was a relief, to find 'me' again. All those martyr thoughts evaporated, if Ben was crying I knew it wasn't because it was something I was or was not doing, I didn't get so tangled up in obsessing over nap times. I let go of the happy mask I was clinging to as a life line & let every one in. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">After four or five months, with Ben's reflux as good as it was going to get without invasive treatment, I slowly weaned off the anti depressants. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>{In the post birth bliss, before the getting lost in the grey mist of depression}</i></span></div>
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That was ten years ago. The emotions I felt during those horrible months still haunt me, settle over me like a heavy cloak when I think back to those heavy months. My heart beat picks up, the dread in my chest returns, the itchy nose that preludes the tears. The feeling of precariously teetering on an emotional ledge. It wasn't until I was out the fog of depression that I could clearly see exactly how bad I really was, how much I had ignored the little warning signs & over looked all the persistent, small negative thoughts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">After that hellish & displacing experience I swore that if & when we had another baby I would would never go back to that lost version of myself again. I would seek help the moment I thought it was more than the 'three day blues' or lasted longer than a week.</span><br />
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In the weeks & months after Rianan was born both Doug & I kept a very observant eye on how I was feeling, how I reacted, how present I felt, & also following the births of Jack, Blake, Will & Clay. Thankfully it was a one off, because while at times I have felt sad in the post natal months, it was never anything close to that depressed fog that slowly absorbed who I was.<br />
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If you think that maybe, just maybe, you don't feel like who you are, if there are some dark clouds hanging around that can't be shaken off, or wonder that maybe you might have antenatal or post natal depression - please speak to someone. <br />
Your doctor, your husband, partner, friend, mum, community health nurse, strangers on a parenting forum, anyone. <br />
<br /><i>Because that grey fog, it really, really sucks.</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Places to reach out for help</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">http://www.panda.org.au/vic-pnd-directory</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">http://www.blackdoginstitute.org.au/public/depression/inpregnancypostnatal/resourceslinksreading.cfm</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">http://www.beyondblue.org.au/resources/for-me/pregnancy-and-early-parenthood</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">http://www.beatbabyblues.com.au/links.aspx</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><i>**This is just my side of our story with post natal depression. I haven't touched on how my depression affected Doug. How much he took on & tried to help, even when I wouldn't let him. That's another post for another day.</i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570102932843550146noreply@blogger.com0