Rugged Up

It was ridiculously cold today. The wind chill factor making it even more punishing. After preschool drop off my little mate and I jumped on a bus headed for the city. I love our excursions into the city. So many things to see and keep curious big brown eyes occupied. And he was such a good commuter... with the exception of one false ring of the bell on the bus, those buttons are a tease, all big and red and shiny. All rugged up under layer upon layer of clothing. There are few things I find cuter, than a bulky Wintery babe.

Weekend Reflection

Early Saturday morning in July. Coogee Beach. Nine degrees. Four kilometres in soft sand and some random snaps of my 'workout world'. I've needed to do this for a while. But lacked energy, strength and health. This weekend, there were no excuses. I must always try to remember the satisfaction and sense of well being exercise provides for me. Because it is so easy to forget, when I'm in a slump.

Saturday evening, Scott and I had one of our rare outings together, alone. A friend's engagement party in the city, allowed us to sneak off into the night (or more so I snuck off on a bus and met Scott in the city, as he had been at work all day). We intended to put our names down for a table at Jamie Oliver's Italian restaurant, but were promptly informed we'd have a two hour wait. So plan B, was scrumptious Thai, at a fantastic restaurant in the Ivy precinct. It was that good I practically licked the plate clean. Not the cheapest Thai we've ever eaten, but worth every penny. And sadly, no photos, as we were enjoying the moment way too much. We rolled on down the road to the party at Arthouse Hotel and had a fun night chatting and laughing and later on... dancing... at the engagement party. A lazy Sunday hanging with my boys, capped the weekend off just nicely.

Magnolia

The magnolia tree in my parent's garden is at it again. Towering high into the sky, completely smothered in brilliant blooms. Such a show off. Even Angus was quite taken by it's perfection, on this lovely July afternoon, urging me to "look at all those pretty flowers Mum!" I just couldn't walk on by without taking a little piece of it's beauty with me.

Finding the words

I had a beautiful piano teacher, from the age of seven. Sweet and kind and talented. A gentle soul, with a smile and helping hand for anyone. She found a lump in her breast when she was forty five. At forty nine, she passed away. The cancer returned second time around, in her spine. It didn't take long from that point. She left behind three young boys and a broken husband, who tragically died only a few weeks later from a brain tumour. Margaret's story has never left me, haunting is a strong word, but it kind of does, in a very distant way. Being so young when she passed, I was devastated, though for quite different reasons to the ones I feel when I think about her death now.


Today I received some upsetting news. My mother's group is a close knit circle of five these days. The five of us who gradually dwindled down from the original group of fifteen, have seen some tough times. Wonderful times. Memorable times. And one of these amazing women has cancer. She is my age and has two adorable girls. "Fuck!" was my initial reaction. And whilst she is being her usual positive, happy-go-lucky self and the prognosis is good, I am gutted for her. Gutted that she has to go through the next three months of pain and worry. As if life isn't ordinarily hard enough. Doesn't cancer know Mama's are off limits!? They don't need it's horrible presence threatening their family and friends. I guess it doesn't know babies and children, Dad's and the elderly are off limits either. It's just an indiscriminate monster and I wish I could grab it by the throat and strangle it. Because I can't, I am just going to be there, for my friend. If she needs me, if she doesn't, I'll just be there.

Feather Soft

These hands. Hardly delicate. Hammering on each and every surface they can find. Pulling hair and pinching and scrunching into tiny fists of fury. An attempt to assert some authority and let everyone know who's boss. Indeed, they are tough little hands. But, they are as soft as a feather to touch. And I love nothing more than watching them at rest... and giving them sweet gentle kisses.

Joining in with Faith Hope & a whole lotta Love for 'Snap It' and this week's topic of: Soft.

Let the sunshine in

We shivered our way through the weekend, under mainly grey and drizzly skies. More of that delightful July weather. After my mini-meltdown at my parent's place on Friday, it's been a surprisingly enjoyable couple of days. I think at times I truly underestimate how physically and emotionally draining a few weeks of illness, a husband working long hours and little to no distance from my lovely boys can be. But rolling with the punches is the only way to be during these tough, toddler/early childhood years. And that is what I try to do. Thank goodness for a terrific Mama and friends, to listen to my gripes.

This afternoon, the sun broke through just in time for Angus' little friend Charlie's birthday party. Lucky it did too, as there was the most awesome jumping castle in the backyard AND a trampoline. The kids were in some sort of jumping nirvana. It was also nice Angus/Mama time, as Felix stayed home for a nap with Daddy. A perfect end to the weekend.

Toy Story

Felix has been really off colour for the past couple of weeks. Really off colour. He barely ate, this last week. Even his favourite foods weren't able to sway him. Including his beloved mini yoghurt tubs. So to my delight, he chose to take a tub to his table last night. I left his spoon next to it and continued tidying up in the kitchen. When I turned around to see how he was going, well... he was definitely enjoying his return to the yoghurt scene. I am guessing if toys could talk, this tiny Duplo fellow wouldn't have many positive things to say about Felix. I gave the little guy a good wash in the kitchen sink, once his services as a spoon had ended. Gotta love the ingenuity of a toddler.

Thank goodness for these little highlights, Angus has had a throwing up bug for the past twenty four hours, so it's been less than joyous around here today. Fingers crossed he's on the mend after a four hour nap this evening.

Growing

First week back at preschool and I received a lovely surprise. Angus' half year report. I actually had no idea teachers even wrote reports for preschoolers, but they do and his first one ever, made me smile. I have no doubt in these early years every child's report is full of praise and encouragement. The way it should be. But seeing such lovely things written about him filled me with complete love and pride.

He is growing up so very quickly, my biggest boy. And although at times he's a handful... mostly, I'd like to hit the pause button on this precious period. I snapped a couple of quick pics the other day while waiting for an appointment. When I looked at them I saw what I already knew deep down. He's not a baby anymore. Always my baby, but not a baby.

Joining in with Faith Hope & a whole lotta Love once again, after a few week's absence, for Snap It and today's topic of: Growing.

Bunking Down

I should know by now, when a salesperson describes the assembly of an item as 'easy', never to believe them. Because they were his precise words when I purchased bunk beds for the boys. "Oh it's super easy... nothing like IKEA furniture". Threw in a little dig at IKEA while he could too. So the bunks were delivered this morning, all flat packed and neat. And three sessions, totalling five hours later, I finished those godforsaken beds. Three sessions, due to the mind warping tangle I found myself in, trying to build the frame. It was all kinds of crazy inside the three by two metre bedroom. And at many stages I thought I could literally go bananas. Missing two pages of the instructions certainly proved tricky. Thankfully, they were for the last part of the assembly and I kinda had the gist of it by then. So I winged the ladder and safety rail.


I do not know how the tradies do it. My back aches, arms are weak and hands cracked and sore. Though I am never one to back down from a challenge and I'm as stubborn as a mule when it comes to finishing something I start. They do look rather cool and I'll now add bunk beds to my list of flatpack furniture conquered. But by far the best part was seeing the look on the boy's faces. Priceless. Aches and pains and hours out of my day aside, it's worth it.

Happy Days

It had been far too long since we last caught up with my beautiful friend, aka Aunty Laura. And yesterday, we made up for lost time. Chatting, playing, enjoying hours on end, in the park near her lovely home. It was a day I really needed, after a week of illness and sleepless nights. A friend I have known for so many years, who always lifts my spirits and who my boys feel so at home with. It's why we love her so much (thank you Spunky). Time passes and seasons change, but some things will forever remain the same.

Today we attended a birthday party for a special little boy. Angus' best bud Will, from preschool. Together with their other partner in crime, Charlie, they are quite the three musketeers. They had a fantastic time running amok with all the other children. While I enjoyed lots of conversation with some new Mama's. Preschool has certainly opened a whole new world of socialising, of which I like very much. A good weekend all round... and another one closer to those warmer days of Spring, hooray! 

Sans Clothes

At the moment, I despair when it comes to dressing Felix. As soon as I get clothes on, he's taking them off. He's as keen as mustard for toilet training, which is good, but we're yet to have any breakthrough in the actual 'toilet' training. More so, a love of racing around the house without pants and a nappy, perching on the pot for a few seconds... then bouncing off to do it all again. Delighted is an understatement. The stripping isn't just reserved for home either. Without fail, shoes and socks are removed and hurled, within minutes of getting into the stroller. So embarrassing in these Winter months, having little pink toes all bare and frosty, for everyone to see. But, I battle... and return them to his chubby feet countless times... until we're finally back in the car and I can give up. And the baby monkey is sick again! Sure, it could be the overwhelming need to share EVERYTHING with his big sick brother. Though I tend to think running around sans clothes in July, doesn't help.

Weary little eyes... but still managing to cause a commotion instead of getting dressed.