MOTHERHOOD: LIVING TO SERVE.

serve v. To work for. To be a servant to.

When I was 17, I started my first job. And around the sixth month in, I remember thinking my boss had the best job ever. She just ordered everyone around, and it appeared to me that she didn't have to do anything except get paid more for telling us what to do.

How naive I was. Of course, now I've been in the position of 'authority' a few times since, and I soon realised that the teeny tiny increase in pay is hardly deserving of the pressures and extra work.

You see, to be a manager, or someone in a position of leadership, they serve others. Not the other way around. They spend time with their staff, train, mentor, coach, problem-solve. They are the ones who hold the cards to everyone else' questions, requests, and ultimately work satisfaction.

That's serving.

As I go through life I realise that serving is such a major part of it. We serve God, those we love, our friends, our communities.

Here I am, serving all day, and all night. It's not just barking orders. It's taking the time to give the best answers, the best advice, the most thoughtful route. Then there's the training, mentoring, coaching, and problem-solving. How we treat our children is the way they see the world.

It takes it out of me at times and I honestly feel like I have nothing left to give. But then on other days, it gives me the energy I need to keep giving.

And serving.

I love it. I truly do.

THIS CITY I LOVE.

Melbourne: a port in SE Australia, capital of Victoria, on Port Phillip Bay: the second largest city in the country; settled in 1835 and developed rapidly with the discovery of rich goldfields in 1851.


It wasn't until I was driving around Melbourne today that I realised that I really love this city.

One would argue that the weather was questionable, but I love the four seasons in one day. If you wear layers, and pack a jacket, you can go anywhere.

The wide roads, signage and direct access to freeways is a dream. Most of the city has been well planned, and is a little less of a Rabbit Warren than other cities (which shall remain nameless, but you know where I'm talking about).

I'm not sure about the 'artwork' along the new eastlink, but Victoria does encourage the arts. There's more festivals than you can poke a stick at, more places to eat than anywhere else in the world (per capita). One doesn't have to travel far to listen to great music, and there's always something on.

Should I mention the shopping? I guess that's why my friends visit Melbourne.

I've lived here twice now. Almost four years the first time, and now in my fourth year this time.

Having moved around to so many places, I realise that I don't really wish to live anywhere else.

BIRTHDAYS THAT GO ON FOREVER.

wish (wsh) n. 1. A desire, longing, or strong inclination for a specific thing. 2. An expression of a desire, longing, or strong inclination; a petition. 3. Something desired or longed for.

It's only one day a year, but if that day turns into a week, then it's the best!

The boys' birthday celebrations have been good. There's been a Wild West party, birthday wishes from interstate phone calls, presents arriving during the week, leftover cake to eat, and more candles to blow out.

On Madison's birthday, he cried. Because he wanted to have another birthday.

And I think he wished it so hard, his wish came true.

FOOD CLUB. WHAT'S THAT?

delicious adj. Highly pleasing or agreeable to the senses, especially of taste or smell. Very pleasant; delightful: a delicious revenge.

What's not to love about this combination: A night out. Dressed up. With friends. Without children (mostly). Talking. Eating. Drinking. The best food.

Once a month, eight girls gather together at a delegated house with a dish matching the theme of the evening, which equals eight dishes and one big eating night out.

Tonight the theme was Thai. Here's a snippet of the menu: fishcakes and spring rolls. Lettuce cups with shredded coconut, cashews, peanuts, chilli, lemon, chilli sauce. Shiitake soup. Pad Thai, green curry with coconut rice. Coconut Sorbet with mint sugared pineapple.

There is no way that I can tell you it was that good. You just had to be there.

I heart Food Club.

And I love, love, love good food.

THE REAL DEAL: BONDING WITH FRIENDS OVER A CUPPA.

friend n. 1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts. 2. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.

If there's one thing I've learnt while being a mum to young children is that you're at your most vulnerable, most tiring, most busy, and most emotional time in your life.

And one thing I love is that I have fantastic friends. Friends who can be honest, and friends who I can be honest with. As much as we all love our children to bits, we're able to share our innermost feelings and fears while sitting in each other's messed-up-by-children houses.

And cry. And laugh.

Over a cuppa.

We put on our happy faces, but here were know it's okay if we don't want to.

I love that.

Because it's real.

WHEN OUTLAWS ARE IN.

in-law n. a relative by marriage.

Not everyone marries as well as me.

How do I know this? Well, because I hear some of my friends refer to their in-laws as out-laws.

And that can't be good.

Because the opposite of 'in' is 'out'.

I guess that's not very welcoming.

But my in-laws are so supportive. So great with the kids. So great with us.

And they'll never be outlaws at our place...

A LETTER TO MADISON WHO IS FOUR.

adore: to regard with deep, often rapturous love.

To my beautiful Madison,

How I love you, how I adore you. You are my first born child, the one I thought I'd never have.

How your smile warms my eyes, and melts my heart. Your never ending happiness is a joy to behold.

I never tire of giving you a cuddle or hearing those words, "I love you" over and over. When you hold my hand I am so proud to be your mummy.

I watch your face when you talk and am mesmerised. Your chocolate brown eyes, just like daddy's, full of life and expression. You're so interested in life all around you, and you never miss a thing.

The questions you ask are getting harder and harder to answer, and they make me think too. Perhaps it's because the questions are good, or also perhaps I am seeing them through your young eyes?

Although I want you to be a child forever, I cannot wait to see the man who you will become. I pray that you will be a good person and care for those around you. May you want to understand more than your own culture, and truly understand the life of those less fortunate. May you choose to walk with God all your days, and may there be peace in your heart. May you never want another person's life or object, and be satisfied with what you have.

May our relationship go on throughout both of our days and be honest and truthful, filled with mutual respect. May God give me the wisdom to know when to step back, and when not to. May I be there to support you when you need me the most.

Love comes in so many shapes and forms, and I hope that the love I give is the love that you need.

"For you see, each day I love you more
Today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow."
- Rosemonde Gerard

Happy 4th Birthday Madison.

MY HUSBAND WHO WAITS.

patient (adj): enduring trying circumstances with even temper or characterised by such endurance.

Our weekend has been so busy that today my husband and I decided to watch the Latest Release DVD he rented last Saturday night.

It's been a mad day. I've been out most of the morning, have a birthday party disorder to clean up, new gifts to find homes for, and four days' worth of washing. There's the mad rush to get things back into order, which - realistically - could easily take a week to recover.

And although everyone knows there's not enough hours in the day to get everything done, here I am this afternoon (well into dinner time) madly cleaning and tidying, trying to find my dining room table so I can 'relax' tonight.

The kids aren't quite ready for bed, and the dishes need to be done. He tucks the kids in, and puts on the nappies.

And waits.

Madison has a sore throat. He makes a lemon and honey drink and puts Madison back to bed.

Then waits.

I have another load to put in the machine, while the dryer finishes the whites.

He waits.

Says nothing.

And waits.

YEEHA! IT'S A COUNTRY + WESTERN PARTY.

party animal: a person who loves parties.

Once upon a time before I had children, I use to be an events coordinator. I use to work for one of Australia's largest private hospitals and organised a total of around 50 events every year. It included a Carols By Candlelight on the hospital lawn that attracted around 5000 people, education seminars for specialists and general practitioners, and marketing round tables for research.

It was so easy because I was part of an awesome team. There was a chef who made dinner suggestions, a graphic designer who did the promotional work, two personal assistants and catering staff. There was even someone who did all the audio sound and visuals.

Now, I'm a mum, event coordinating the simplest birthday party is the biggest challenge as there isn't the large team to pull things together. The theme choice, the catering, the photography, the host is usually left to one or two people.

And then theres:

"Mummy, I need a drink."

"Mummy, where is my cowboy hat?"

"Mummy, can I open my presents yet?"

And today, there was hot dogs and hamburgers, potato skins and nachos.

Closely followed by a Gold Rush Treasure Hunt, Tin Can Shoot, and a Ride on Horse Race.

Dessert consistsd of lamingtons, wagon wheels, ANZACs, ice cream and the best cake ever (thanks Melanie), made in the shape of a cowboy boot.

And afterwards we fell into a heap.

It was the biggest day we've had in a long time.

But as we watched Toy Story for the first time (a birthday present), while Madison cuddled his new Woody toy, we agreed that it was well worth the effort.

BOY.

love n. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship.

Tomorrow my baby turns 1. And apart from the fact that this past year has sped by quicker than the speed of light, it's been so wonderful.

Although I wish that it hadn't been such a blur.

Having a second child is so different from the first. The first-born is looked at, adored, played with, and there's lots of time to stop and wonder at this lovely creation that you and your partner have made.

The second born just fits in. There's time for a quick cuddle or feed before you're running after the first born who has decided he's not getting enough attention. It's amazing what you can do while you've got a baby at your breast. I had no idea of the possibilities the first time round.

That being said, I've made time for cuddles and in those first few months, I watched my baby carefully, even writing in a diary to make sure I remembered things. So glad I did. Because I've already forgotten so much.

And knowing how the second child usually doesn't have as many photos taken, I've done my best to ensure there's as many, if not more, than the first.

But no matter how much I've tried to slow things down and remember the moments, we move at such a mad pace just to keep up the maintenance. How much I've tried to re-think how I do things to make more space for enjoyment, for playing, and for adoring.

And there seems to be no way around it.

So here we are. Another year later. Listening for the next new word, and watching out for that first step, observing the progression.

I love this boy, and as time goes by, like him that love will grow and grow. And grow.

THE IDEA OF READING.

pastime: n. An activity that occupies one's spare time pleasantly.

I love reading.

But let's face facts. The last time I read something substantial was months ago.

So instead I love the idea of reading.

You know, curling up on the sofa in loungewear with a book, wide awake, looking around a clean home while the children sleep peacefully.

Well... one can dream.

The reality is when I finally settle down to a book, it's so late, and I just can't seem to keep my eyes open.

A few posts back I talked about how much I loved Quality Kym Time, which may have alluded to having time to do a little book lounging. The truth is the last time it was spent in a leisurely way would have been back in the days of just one child under 2.

And what makes matters worse is that the books keep accumulating. Gifts. Loans. And because I want to read every one of them, they lie around the house in little piles. Just hoping to be read some time.

I counted all the book piles tonight, and have 17 half-read or unread books.

That's a little overwhelming.

But I am encouraged by the fact that someday in the near future, there might come a time when I can be awake long enough to enjoy a chapter or two...

LIFE IS LOVED. RIGHT?

alive (adj.) Having life; living.

It's kind of assumed that because we're living life, that we love it.

But it's not necessarily so. There are so many people in this world who simply survive. They are mechanical about their day-to-day life. Some suffer from physical disabilities, or mental ones, they live in the past, or it's simply hard to function because of what life has dealt out. And for some, life is just plain hideous.

I know I have a charmed life. A home over my head, a family to love (and who loves me). An abundance of beautiful friends. And although I am just like everyone else who can get caught up with the mundane routine, today was a day to simply appreciate life.

You see, I went to a funeral this morning. And we celebrated and talked about this amazing woman's life. And apart from the fact, that she seemed to squeeze a lot in her 90-year life, so many kind words and recognition was shared in her honour today. It was such a shame she didn't get to hear the beautiful words said, or how her family will feel her loss so terribly.

I'm not saying that she wasn't appreciated when she was alive, I just wonder if we tell those we love, exactly how we feel.

Often.

After the funeral, I took the boys grocery shopping then home for some quiet time. But instead of rushing to sit at my computer to work, I spent time with my boys instead. We baked, we cuddled, and we just appreciated each other.

I got off the merry-go-round for a moment and just loved the little miracles that are alive with me.

BATHTIME.

birthday suit: having no clothes or covering garments upon ones body; nude.

There's nothing better than seeing my boys running around the bath waiting for the bubbles to rise and the water to fill the tub.

And how Noah bounces up and down in anticipation of just getting wet, while Madison tests the water with his big toe.

And washing them, and seeing their big brown eyes surrounded by waterlogged lashes.

And when they hop out, wiping down that perfect soft skin and kissing their pink chubby faces.

Seeing their cuteness and innocence in its fullest.

DREAMING OF A NEW KITCHEN.

ren·o·vate: 1. To restore to an earlier condition, as by repairing or remodeling. 2. To impart new vigor to; revive.

No, no. I don't love this kitchen.

I love the kitchen that is in my head. The antique white one with fancy handles, a fan-forced oven, timber floorboards, a dishwasher and bench space. With plenty of drawers, overhead glass cupboards, downlights and CaesarStone benchtops.

A place where I can face house guests whilst making last minute food preparations, a bench where my kids can sit and chat, or where I can help them with their homework while I prepare dinner.

A huge pantry where I can quickly access ingredients to whip up that new recipe I've been dying to try. A bookshelf loaded with recipe books. And a place to put my laptop when surfing taste.com.au or favourite recipes saved on my computer.

I've got big dreams in my new kitchen... it's just a matter of when we can pull out the old one and replace it with the new one.

I sure hope it's soon.

day seventeen | i love that my step daughter can teach me things

Duct tape: n. A usually silver adhesive tape made of cloth mesh coated with a waterproof material, originally designed for sealing heating and air-conditioning ducts.

It's a fact: life is never boring with young children.

Of course, in this situation, I wouldn't mind if life was a little less interesting.

On Saturday we had visitors. I fed the boys, and had everything ready for my guests' arrival. The boys stopped long enough to meet the New People, then it was sleep time for them. Noah was reaching hyperactivity point while Madison's lids were needing a good shut eye.

The afternoon was fun. We laughed and had a great time. And when I checked on the boys, although they were awake, they were quiet enough. And I thought that soon they might go to sleep. Then complete silence.

It wasn't until my guests were leaving when I heard Noah cry. When I went to get him, Madison wasn't there. I found him in my bedroom sitting in the middle of the bed.

Wearing a very guilty look on his face.

Once my guests left, there was a more thorough investigation.

Artwork on my bedroom linen again.

The windows were also murky. Glue Stick.

Then came the clincher. My bedroom cupboard door was open and half my shoes were missing.

Shoe collection. Heating duct.

Then I spent the next 2 hours removing dried glue from the window, and shoes from the duct.

But that wasn't all. While I was muttering insane mummy thoughts under my breath, I also discovered that other things were missing.

Femine hygiene products.

Boxes of them.

This is probably the time to share that this all happened while my husband was away. (Is it just me, or do things like this happen only when husbands are away?)

So this afternoon, I was telling my step daughter Leah about Madison's latest adventures (which she is always interested in hearing). And being a Lady of Action, she warned me of the dangers of having these sorts of items in the ducts, and how they had to be removed immediately. (Did I mention that as part of her current job, she assists in ducted heating maintenance?)

Under the house we went. She undid all the duct work in the bedroom while I got really, really dirty (and played Tampon and Sanity Pad Treasure Hunt).

Oh what fun.

To cut a very long story short, because there was movement of the ducts, there was also a blockage at the fan, so we had to undo the duct at the motor too.

But after a couple of hours, and some master guidance and instructions from my step daughter, we finally removed all the goodies from the duct (see picture above).

And remember, this is what was left after the shoes were all taken out.

Repeat after me (often and loudly): Leah is the best. Leah is the best. Leah is the best...

And to convince myself (often and quietly): Madison is just curious. Madison is just curious. Madison is just curious...

THE ART OF STORYTELLING.

Sto·ry-tell·er n. One who tells stories; a narrator of anecdotes, incidents, or fictitious tales; as, an amusing story-teller.

My husband can tell a good yarn. In fact, he's quite talented in bringing the dullest of stories to life. He's a history major, and although I had no interest in European history at school, I have since discovered that the past is fascinating and interesting.

Madison is also quite interested in his father's stories. So much so, that tonight Daddy was telling him of a childhood story of a snake that almost bit him. Mouth agape, he was hanging on Daddy's every word.

HOW WE SPEND OUR SATURDAY NIGHTS.

Toasties: a toasted sandwich. Hot chips: strips of potato deep fried in fat. Milkshake: a whipped iced dairy drink, usually chocolate. DVD: a digital recording (as of a movie) on an optical disk that can be played on a television set.

On Saturday night, it's all about the kids. We buy a parcel of hot chips, make cheese & tomato toasted sandwiches and milo milkshakes. And devour it all while watching a kids DVD.

We're not in favour of watching TV over dinner (or much TV at all actually), but it's become a special treat on Saturday nights.

It's a simple tradition, but the kids love it.

And so do we.

BAKING. THERE'S NOTHING LIKE IT.

ther·a·peu·tic: Having or exhibiting healing powers: a therapeutic agent; therapeutic exercises.

I love baking. Especially when I get a chance to do it all day.

When the house is clean, and there is nothing else to do, but enjoy spending time with the kids and cooking.

Apart from mixing and breaking eggs, licking the spoon is the highlight for the big one. The little one discovered this joy for the first time today.

The menu? Caramelised onion and feta quiche, little white lamingtons, chocolate caramels, white chocolate gingerbread slice and my favourite - rhubarb + berry crumble (pictured above, recipe here, and rhubarb fresh from our vegie garden).

It's like the cheapest therapy and, although a little messy with my little helpers, so lovely!

HOW DO YOU LIVE WITHOUT SYSTEMS + ORDER?

Or·der (ôrdr) n. 1. A condition of methodical or prescribed arrangement among component parts such that proper functioning or appearance is achieved.

Call me an Overachieving Neat Freak, but I love it when my house is clean and tidy. It makes me feel complete.

Okay, that makes me sound totally shallow. But, it's true.

Somehow my head comes out of the fog, I feel like I've accomplished something during the day, and it puts me in a good mood.

And so after getting all dressed up yesterday, today was the Day of Sloth while getting the house sorted.

I decided that I'm sick of tripping over toys, and they just can't be in the hallway anymore. Most of them have now been sorted in baskets and placed on top of the boys' bedroom cupboards where no-one can reach them (until I say so, that is). The pile of papers on my kitchen bench that has been there for months has finally been cleared. And my desk: I can see the fake wood grain once again.

My husband, who likes things sort of organised and kind of ordered, also hates change. So he does get worried when I'm on a spree like this, because after a big clean up, there's usually a change in the organisation system (ie. the toys). And he may groan a bit, but grudgingly gets used to the new way We Do Things.

Mind you, just because I like being organised and systematic, doesn't mean that I have things that way all the time.

These days it's an incredibly rare phenonomen.

GETTING OUT OF THE MUMMY UNIFORM.

dress up: v. put on special clothes to appear particularly appealing and attractive.

As a mum, I have a uniform. It consists mostly of jeans, tshirts and flat shoes. And on those extra comfy days, possibly a pair of trackie dacks (with paint on them, as they're the only variety I own). No make up, and if we're lucky hair may be looked at (but most likely not done).

You may not know this, but I have one of those paid job thingies. It also happens that I am one of the luckiest employees around. I get to wear track pants when I go to work.

That's because I work mainly from home. Of course, there's an expectation that I go into the office occasionally, which I usually do.

Just not in the past three months. (Did I mention that you should also never to take this sort of job for granted?) When I had one child, my awesome in-laws (more about them later) looked after Madison for a day while I went into the real office (as opposed to the home office). Then I worked my other two days at home in blocks throughout the rest of the week. Then I had Noah. Madison still went to Grandma and Grandpa's for a day, while I took my seven week old into work. I did that for 8 months. (Did I mention how awesome my bosses are?)

Once Noah became too verbal and mobile, you can imagine why I haven't taken him in for an 8-hour work day recently. And while I've loved having the flexibility of being at home with my kids every moment of the day, there's something special about having Dress Up Day.

It's kind of like when you were a kid when you chose your clothes carefully, and paraded around feeling all pretty. (Except now your clothes shouldn't be squished in a dress up box - okay, mine are squished in a laundry basket at times...)

To me, Dress Up days should include: no children, no pooey nappy remnants on your good clothes, no dribbles on your shoulders, vomits down your front (or on the floor), food on your sleeves, no funny smells noticed while making a phone call, finishing every conversation, and focusing on just a handful of things which entail just the job at hand. (I don't expect much, do I?) Plus a pretty scarf, skirt, boots, make up and hair fully done.

Today my wish came completely true. I went back to work today for the first time in 11 months.

Without any children.

WHEN OTHERS COOK IN THE KITCHEN.

Cooking: the act of preparing food for consumption.

Is it just me, or does the thought of what to cook for dinner overwhelm you night after night? Something that is delicious, nutritious, quick and kid friendly.

Well, after working a 9-hour day, my step-daughter Leah came home and asked, "What's for dinner?"

Then she asked, "Can we have pasta?"

And then made it.

It was so good. And the best bit is that I didn't have to make it.

I love Leah.

And having a night off.

NEEDING A NAUGHTY SPOT. FOR ME.

Time out: n. a pause from doing something (as work); respite, break, recess, pause - temporary inactivity.

Forget about the kids. I need a naughty spot. A place for time out.

It seems for an extravert, I sure do love my own company. In fact, as I get older I seem to want it more and more.

Time alone to think... (sigh).

When the boys both go down for their afternoon sleep, days seem to run more smoothly as a result of that hour or two of complete peace and quiet. Then I can gather my thoughts, work quietly and refocus on what needs to be done for the rest of the day, or even the week. I might even have the opportunity to plan further ahead than that.

Or, it could be like today where I was lucky to have half an hour 'child-free' before I discovered that my 3 year old had snuck out of his bedroom to draw on my bedroom doona cover and pillows.

As you can imagine, the day went down hill from there.

Quality Kym Time... (sigh). It's bliss.

MOTHERHOOD: THE BIGGEST CHALLENGE EVER.

mum·my n. mother: somebody's mother.
step-mum n. the wife of your father by a subsequent marriage. A female who is the next best woman (to a Mum) in her husband's childrens' life.

Being a mum has to be the biggest challenge I've undertaken so far.

Yet the most rewarding.

And I wouldn't have it any other way...

LIVE MUSIC. IN MY KITCHEN.

at·mos·phere n. mood or tone: a prevailing emotional tone or attitude, especially one associated with a specific place or time.

Before I was married, I was a music freak. I sang in two bands, hung out with musicians, and talked about music all the time. I listened to all sorts of genres, and I loved discovering the the newest sound.

The moment I hopped out of bed, I would put on my favourite CD. I knew all the latest songs, and when in the car, the radio was always switched on.

Then I got married and moved to a place where we couldn't get any radio frequency. I didn't sing anymore, and I couldn't pop down to the music store for my music fix.

Pre-recorded music was replaced with live music. I guess because I loved music so much, I married a guitar genius.

Although I barely sing anymore, and hardly have time to play the piano, I now live where there is a plethora of CDs, iTunes, radio stations and music to choose from.

But I still choose my husband's live music.

PLAYING THE GLAD GAME + LIVING LIKE POLLYANNA.

The Pollyanna principle (also called Pollyannaism or positive bias) describes the tendency for people to agree with positive statements describing themselves. The unconscious bias towards the positive is often described as the Pollyanna principle.

So, after saying how much I loved my bed yesterday, I really didn't spend much time in there last night. As it turned out, both my boys had bouts of vomiting which continued into this afternoon.

But onto today's thing I love...

Even though the boys were throwing up on their beds, the carpet, the floor and their clothes, while bathing them this morning, I kept thinking that at least they didn't have diarrohea as well, or that they were still quite pleasant right before and right after their vomiting. Even though I didn't get the things done that I had planned today, I didn't mind because that's what being a mum is all about.

Then I realised, I was being Pollyanna. You know: the girl who played the Glad Game.

Well, that's me. And with a friend of mine (who is also a Pollyanna too), we play the Glad Game together.

I have friends who find my positivity refreshing, while I'm sure that others just steer clear of all that bubbly stuff because it drives them slightly nuts.

But it's something I actually like about myself. The ability to (mostly) laugh things off or see the positive side - even if things are pretty grim.

Although my husband loves me dearly, I'd say that he's a pessimist (he says he's a realist). And that my positive attitude drives him up the wall. He'll be having a whinge about something, and I'll be there saying it's not so bad while giving all the reasons why. I'm always giving the positive spin.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not silly about things. If I'm having a bad day, then Pollyanna gets put in the cupboard until I get a little more sleep, or a little more Quality Kym Time (more about that later). But then she's out smiling and at it again, just like before.

I know each of us could think of a million things we don't like about ourselves, so now I want you to be Pollyanna for a moment and think of something you really love about yourself.

Go on. I dare you.

THE SANCTUARY OF SLEEPING.

Sleep n. A natural periodic state of rest for the mind and body, in which the eyes usually close and consciousness is completely or partially lost, so that there is a decrease in bodily movement and responsiveness to external stimuli. During sleep the brain in humans and other mammals undergoes a characteristic cycle of brain-wave activity that includes intervals of dreaming.

Perhaps it's because I've spent the last 10 months not sleeping much, that when I step inside my bedroom, I melt.

It might be sheer exhaustion, or it could be that I just love my bedroom that much. I might be biased, but I think it's gorgeous. Butter cream walls, a sunny yellow ceiling, white ceiling rose, pale green cornices and lush burgundy carpet. It's a Victorian dream come true.

I climb into bed most nights muttering the words, I love bed, I love bed... just before drifting into a deep sleep.

WARNING: NERD ALERT.

nerd also nurd (nûrd) n. Slang

A person who is single-minded or accomplished in scientific or technical pursuits but is felt to be socially inept.

Okay, I admit it.

I'm a Nerd.

I spend countless hours each day on the computer, and I love it. I do it for a living, I get paid to, and I don't even mind. If there's something new on the market, I want it. And I don't know care how long it takes, I'll learn how to use it. And it is a little obvious - I love Facebook, Twitter, Google, YouTube, and have a blog.

There are those that hate changes in technology, and there are those that embrace it. I'm the latter.

Sometimes I forget I'm a nerd, and I go along in life thinking otherwise. But if I analyse it more closely, I have favourites when it comes to accounting software. The graphic design software I use has a major upgrade, and I get excited. Work updates my laptop, and I can't wait.

Well, today it was time to upgrade my mobile phone as its precedessor died a very quick and painless death on the weekend. Then I realised it was within my budget to upgrade to an iPhone.

You can imagine my delight.

THIS BOY IS GROWING FAST.

grow (gr) v. grew (gr), grown (grn), grow·ing, grows v.intr.

To increase in size by a natural process. To allow (something) to develop or increase by a natural process.

This boy is growing up. And I love every minute; every discovery; every move; every challenge.

He is the silent achiever, the quiet worker. And he gets the job done. Whether it is getting all the baby wipes out of the container (check), the food out of the wrapper (check) or the biscuit off that plate (check), he gets his way.

After much determination, it happens.

AIRPORT REUNION.

reunion [riːˈjuːnjən] n. the act or process of coming together again.

To avoid car seat swapping and nightmare vehicle logistics, the best way to catch up with an old school friend while away in Tassie was at the airport.

After a few attemps at a catch up, we finally agreed (to the ingenious suggestion of my gorgeous friend) to meet at the transit lounge while we waited for our plane back to Melbourne.

So, Rochelle complete with her children Kaitlin, Izak and Matilda, met for coffee, expensive airport food and a hundred or so other travellers.

And between purchasing, eating, taking kids to the toilet, changing nappies, and ensuring our children were within 3 metres of us, we were able to chat.

And as if there wasn't enough going on, there was riveting entertainment.

By our children.

GRANDPARENT MOMENTS.

grandparent [ˈgrænˌpɛərənt ˈgrænd-] n. the father or mother of either of one's parents.

We don't see my parents very much as they live interstate. And although my boys really tested the boundaries during the last visit (my poor parents!), these moments are very special.

BABY GRIZZLY OUTFITS.

cud·dle (kdl) v. cud·dled, cud·dling, cud·dles v.tr. To fondle in the arms; hug tenderly. See Synonyms at caress. v.intr. To nestle; snuggle. n. The act of cuddling; a hug or embrace.

This little cheeky monkey in his grizzly suit.

Why is it that a baby dressed head to toe in fluffy paraphernalia complete with ears and a tail, is just the cutest thing?

THINGS I LOVE.

At the end of April, I felt a little sad that 30 Days of Being A Real Parent was ending.

 

I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I've really, really enjoyed it. And in a good way, the month went a little slower while I was capturing my family. I stopped and made the most of the moments.

 

And I could have kept going. It would have gotten even more real. You see, we went to Hobart, and in the space of five days, my boys:

1. BROKE A BOWL. Not any bowl. Just the one that my half-sister had when she was a baby, and she's an only child. (And I can't even begin to tell you how precious and sentimental it was, so let's stop there shall we?)
2. BROKE A PHOTO FRAME. It was caused by a dog toy flying in the air by darling eldest child.
3. SPILT A LARGE SOY CHAI LATTE. All over my auntie. In the city.
4. DID THE BIGGEST POO. It was a number 3 variety. You know, all over the dining room floor.
5. THREW UP IN MY DAD'S NEW RANGE ROVER. As we were cleaning it, I joked to my father, "You must be so glad we visited!" My Dad said not a word. Awkward. 

And perhaps, perhaps in a few years' time, we might laugh about it. No. Maybe just a teeny weeny smile through gritted teeth. But right now, I think I could cry (again).

 

Of course, it wasn't all bad. Between the oops and sorrys (and tears), there will be lots of good memories. The boys had a great time.

 

Now, where was I? Oh yes, back to this month... due to popular demand, I'm starting another month of photo somethings. May's challenge will be Things I Love.

 

I hope you enjoy it.

day thirty | one set of twins is enough

Here are the boys at the Annual Twinnies Birthday Bash in Hobart, Tasmania.

Who are the twins, you ask.

Well, my Dad. And the lady on the left is his twin sister. Older by a few minutes.

Just so you know, since becoming a mother, I think my Grandmother is an legend.

Why?

Because she already had two children before she had twins. And then she had another afterwards.

I also have friends who have twins, and each of them deserve full-time paid help.

Just for their twins.

Because, they're just so busy.

And guess what I discovered not so long ago? The five factors that increase the odds of having twins - I have 3 of them. And contrary to popular belief, the incidence of twins doesn’t skip generations (my sister was a twin).

So, you can imagine my delight when at the beginning of each pregnancy it was made clear that I was having just one baby.

And you could see my husband put away the divorce papers when he heard this same information too.

Because each time, we did wonder...