There's something about Miranda

I think it's fair to say, that I might just have a big girl crush on Miranda Kerr. Is it the fame and fortune? Not really. Is it the jet-setting, globe trotting, star power lifestyle? Uh Uh. Popularity? Nah. Movie star husband? Afraid not. Is it the breathtaking beauty, to-die-for body and mind-blowing career she has forged for herself? Well, ok, it could be partly to do with this. But in all honesty, what I am most in awe of, is this down-to-earth Aussie gal's ability to keep it so real. I have always liked her and I am not easily impressed, when it comes to famous people. I appreciate individual qualities in most actors, singers, supermodels and the like. But rarely do I sincerely like what I see in these people.


When Miranda gave birth to her first child at the beginning of the year, I was blown away by the delightful photo she released of herself, breast feeding her newborn son. This captured a most (if not THE most) precious moment between mother and baby. Then so very endearing was her choice, to unveil this much sort after first baby pic alongside her own article about the birth, on the Kora Organics blog page. What. a. gal!


I'll admit I am quite the avid follower on Miranda's Facebook page (along with 400,000 or so other fans). Herein lies the key to the big girl crush I refer to. What I find most incredible is that she actually writes to her fans at this location. She takes the time to acknowledge people who adore her, to answer questions and offer valuable advice on health and beauty. She has a heart of gold and an endless measure of charm, providing hope and above all else, confidence, to so many. I seriously find it hard to imagine a person in her amazing position, being so positively natural and sharing quite so much of themselves. Yet she is and she does. 


And so this little crush confirms to me one thing I have found to be comprehensively true since the day I became a Mama myself... that motherhood is indeed a universal leveller. 

First Word

It's official! My baby boy has delivered his very first word. A decidedly enthusiastic and distinctive... "MAMA"! I will always remember Angus' first word... "Dada". I can recall feeling stoked for Scott back then and quietly hoping that he would utter my name next. It took him a couple of months to finally say it and I was thrilled. So hearing Felix screeching "Mama" over and over, to all who will listen, leaves me positively tickled pink. This weekend has seen the clarity improve and the frequency increase. For the past week or so, he has been unwell AND teething, so everything that comes out of his mouth has been a sad, high pitched wail, at times resembling a "Maaaaaaaa. Ma". But now, it is unmistakable and I am relishing in the sweet tones of "Mama", ringing in my ears.

I have a feeling it may have alot to do with Angus, as Felix is forced to listen to him calling out to me, day in, day out. He is bound to latch on to words that are mentioned no less than 150 times a day. When Angus was a bub, I would be dropping the Dada word around him constantly. "Dada will be home soon", "Dada's on the phone", "Dada loves you so much". I guess it's all about repetition with first words. Admittedly, Felix's first word has come as a lovely surprise. I can't see myself ever growing tired of hearing my name in those squeaky baby coo's. Ahhh, bliss.

Felix will be seven and a half months old tomorrow. The time insists on galloping past and these precious milestones are reminders for me, just how quickly they grow up. He is so exceptionally sweet natured, even when he is feeling miserable, he still manages a smile or a giggle or a cheeky squint of his big brown eyes. He is at a beautiful stage, being content to stay sitting on the floor playing and observing. He rarely protests from this position, so I plan to just enjoy his easygoing temperament, while it lasts. Now that his first word has been mastered in the vocabulary, I'm looking forward with great anticipation, to the next one.

A Sad Farewell

In February 2002, Scott and I moved in together. The parents of Scott's best mate Steve, offered us a 2 bedroom apartment, with an amazing backyard, five minutes stroll from Coogee Beach. The apartment was attached to the main house on the property. I had never lived out of my family home before and it meant massive changes for a wide eyed, 23 year old me. Unlike many of my friends, I had no real desire to flit the nest and I probably wouldn't have for at least a few more years either. I was content, my parents were great to live with and I was paying a measly sixty buckeroos per week for board. It was a pretty sweet arrangement. But along came this too good to refuse opportunity. Absurdly low rental, no lease and no bond to speak of. Certainly a great incentive to take our relationship to the next stage, without the usual pressures of moving into a rental property. There was a period of significant adjustment on my part, not so much living with a boyfriend for the first time, more so missing the home I had always known. Missing my Mama. 


Prior to moving in, I had only met Steve's parents on a handful of occasions. Andy and Betty were a wonderful couple. Friendly, intelligent, kind, incredibly resourceful and generous to a fault. Both of them just a couple of years younger than my parents. They loved a chat. My, they loved a chat. Thankfully, so do I. They were THE perfect landlords. Although not once did they ever treat us like we were tenants. So for the next two and a half years, we called this place home and we loved every aspect of it. We moved out in July 2004, only months before our wedding, as we found a top little unit that we decided to buy, just down the road and still in Coogee. Betty fell ill with a cancerous brain tumour, that same year and required a full time live in nurse, who moved into the apartment we had been living in. By Christmas 2006, Betty lost her fight with cancer, which had spread to various other parts of her body, in just two short years. For Andy and the rest of the family, losing Betty was utterly devastating, the heart of their home taken away much too soon. Andy, who had always enjoyed travelling, for work and pleasure, threw himself into as many research trips as he possibly could. He ventured to Antarctica, South America and Europe. He worked long and hard. Trying to heal a little of the pain. In 2009, another cruel blow, Andy was diagnosed with cancer of the kidney. He struggled to cope with the realisation of his own mortality, not quite three years since the death of his beloved wife. But he fought the battle all the same. After sixteen long, harrowing months, Andy lost his fight last Sunday evening. He was to turn 70 this year, in June. 


Yesterday, we said goodbye to a father, a grandfather, a father-in-law, a brother and a very dear friend. A man who kept a brilliant garden and breathtaking home. A man who accomplished so very much through his scientific research. A man who raised two successful children and adored his five young grandchildren. A man who loved cricket, classical music, good food and fine wine. A man who (along with his darling wife) indirectly contributed to the foundations built by my husband and I all those years ago, when we were just starting out. Without their benevolence, we would certainly not have been able to afford the hefty deposit on our first home, nor would I have felt quite so cared for in my first home away from home. Like so many others, we feel privileged to have known Andy and are comforted by the fact that his legacy lives on in our great friend Steve and his family. A rather poignant and fitting verse read during Andy's service yesterday:

Don't Be Too Sad

~ John W Tease ~

I've lived my life

I've tried my best

The memories I hold dear,

Are experiences I have known

Of happiness and tears.

The love of my family

The care of of my friends,

The good times I've shared

Right to the end.

I've travelled life's byways

Seen children grow up,

Experienced life's living

And drunk from love's cup.

I leave you with memories with thoughts of you all

I'm no longer with you

But your mind will recall,

The good times we shared

The laugher we had,

Please cherish these memories

And don't be too sad.

Hard Yards

I think I can chalk today up as one of THE most difficult days I have experienced as a Mama. The boys are both still sick, I am sick and as irrational as it may seem, I spent a good portion of the day cursing preschool for all of it. My rational mind of course realises that it is not exclusively preschools fault. Although Angus has never been this sick continuously in his 3 years of life. This morning specifically takes the crown for hideousness. Angus worked himself into such a lather over a TWO HOUR period (no joke) that he fell asleep by midday. Only to wake up thirty short minutes later, even more morose and equally as vocal as before.

Ironically it all started over panadol and my refusal to let him have some. It is strange how children find taking medicine either painfully repulsive OR peculiarly fascinating. We seem to be going through the peculiarly fascinating stage right now. But this is where lessons need to be taught and as I endeavoured to explain, panadol is not a treat. In the end it became more about me making a point to him, as his tantrum almost warranted some mild sedative intervention. Regardless, I stood strong. Or more like stood weak, with a strong mind. By early afternoon, I was at my wit's end. I knew we needed to get out of the house. A few more hours of the nonsense endured throughout the morning and we both may have required hypnotic therapy.

I buckled the boys into the car and headed straight for the park. I chose a park nearby where we used to live in Coogee. I thought this one would be especially good for today as it is quiet, overlooks the ocean and no one is ever there, at least on the occasions I have been to it. Feeling as physically zapped as I did, I was in no mood for park chit chat. How awful that sounds. Well, it did the trick and slowly slowly I witnessed my pent-up little spring of a 3 year old, unwind. We played for about an hour and a half. We all needed this time so very desperately. This evening we were in a much calmer space. Scott is working late, so I made a point of working through dinner, baths & bedtime early and methodically. I have been up to the boys every night this week, averaging about 3 hours sleep per night. So I am thinking I may just hit the sack myself sooner than later. You need every bit of strength you can muster, when you're on the frontline. 

Domestic God

It would seem I have a little shadow. It is nothing new to be followed everywhere when you're a mama. Nowhere is sacred. The number of Mama's who remark to me so often that they never get any peace and quiet. Even in what is supposed to be the most private of places, it is still access all areas for the kidlets. For a good 12 months now, Angus has been evolving into a fine example of domesticity.  I put some of it down to spending the two days a week with my parents when I returned to work. My Mama in particular, is so patient in letting him learn and explore anything and everything when it comes to household chores and the garden.


I noticed his domestic qualities initially through his enthusiasm to assist with vacuuming. From here it has branched out to mops, cloths and cleaning products, of all things (I have explained possibly 10,000 times about poison and how it is not for 3 year olds to be handling... semantics in his eyes). He loves hanging the washing out and especially likes the clothes horse... as naturally, it is more his height. Then the obvious progression... placing said clothes into their rightful locations. The waste management almost has to be left to him exclusively, or it can cause quite the scene. I have been known to sneak out to the bins while he's in the shower, to avoid any 'incidents' over who gets to take the rubbish out. Washing up dishes is another passion. Along with his little blue IKEA foot stool, which he carries everywhere, enabling him to be quite dexterous in making his way to the sink, turning on the tap (cold water only) and rinsing off dirty cups, plates and lately, Felix's bottles. Just try stopping him!


Now if I was a tad more skilled in the kitchen, I think I may even have a budding junior master chef on my hands also. Alas, I'm fairly basic with my chosen meals, I do like to whip up an impressive cake or dessert however. In any case, my little domestic god is ALWAYS right by my side. Be it peeling vegies or baking a batch of cupcakes, he is in his element when in the thick of it all. At times his intense participation creates added hard work on my part. Just recently, he has taken to holding my wrist whenever I need to chop, peel or dice. It proves very tricky, as not only am I trying to prepare meals successfully, I am also nervously keeping the chubby little hands of a 3 year old at bay. But once more, try stopping him! He is mightily determined and super persistent. At the end of the day, I'm quietly in awe of him and all he has mastered on the domestic front. Plus, I may as well enjoy it, as it will no doubt be a short-lived phase. 

My Special Valentine

We don't 'do' Valentines Day around here. In 2004 (the year we married) I received a lovely bunch of long stemmed red roses, with a beautiful card from my husband-to-be. Twas precisely the last time I received a Valentine from him. In fact every year since we were married we go about the same little ritual. About a week (or a day) before Valentine's Day, Scott will check with me in a very matter of fact tone "we don't do Valentine's, do we?" And that is just fine by me. In my eyes, it is completely and ridiculously overrated. A TOTAL waste of money. Not to mention, just another day where hopes and expectations are set to be dashed, if cupid misses the mark. Who really needs a day like that!? 


So this Valentine's I was lucky enough to spend the day with two adorable cherubs. Well sure, they're my boys and that's who I spend all my days with, but it was love, love, love all the same. Poor baby Felix has been rather poorly these past few days. I think he may have been hit with a double whammy of the residual head cold and a couple of cruel, new teeth poking through his tender gums. He was MISERABLE last night. From around midnight onwards he lay wrapped around me, his tiny face buried deep in my neck. Just how Angus did when he was teething. Every few minutes he would twitch and writhe in a moment of pain. I felt very tired and helpless around the 3am mark, as I knew short of a dose of baby panadol, there wasn't much else I could do to appease his discomfort. 


Angus slept well, but hasn't managed to shake his constant runny nose (thank you preschool) yet either, therefore all three of us were a little bleary eyed today. However, the day did not go by without a special delivery. One day last week, while watching the Morning Show and feeding Felix, a TV Shop commercial came on. It is one I have seen no less than 500 times, so I started to tune out. BUT. Then, for some unknown reason, it tweaked my interest on this particular day. Could have been the fact that I have had a very poor body image for the last 5 months. Maybe something to do with not being able to fit into ANY of my pants or jeans. Though, I'm absolutely certain in the end it was the idea of owning a piece of equipment guaranteed (?) to help rid my tummy of it's folds and flab, while acquiring a killer set of abs, in just 3 short minutes per day... sure it can! So, very unlike me (in fact my first ever TV infomercial purchase. Honestly!!) I dialled and ordered myself an Ab Circle Pro. 


Despite my initial concerns that I was the quintessential desperate housewife purchasing dust collecting rubbish from a tacky daytime TV commercial, after the shock wore off, I was mildly excited. I'm sure the delivery guy felt bad for me when I appeared at the door this afternoon, cranky baby on hip, chatty & snotty child at my side. Instead of delivering a crisp box adorned with shiny ribbons, containing dozens of delightful blooms and mouth-watering choccies, here he is, requesting the signature of an exhausted mama, taking possession of her shiny new Ab Circle Pro. For a non-participant in what is an exceedingly over commercialised love fest, I couldn't be more chuffed with my delivery this Valentine's Day. Right on TV Shop!

Cheap & Cheerful

About two and a half years ago, a tradition was born. It came about thanks to a rather providential occurrence, being the formation of my mother's group. Being first time mama's, we were eager to share in the experience of motherhood with people who knew exactly what each of us were going through. So six from the wider group of mama's, decided to begin the tradition based on our mutual love of good food, good wine and good conversation. Only months earlier perfect strangers, then before we realised, we were w(h)ining and dining together on a monthly basis.


We originally labelled these nights as Cheap & Cheerful, due simply to the fact that we like to keep it as simple, hassle free and fun as we can. No need for swanky venues with a chef hat rating. Just nice, relaxed places that are reasonably close to home. There are certainly no shortage of mouth watering options in the area we live in, so we enjoy quite the cross section of foods from basic pub meals to more exotic cuisine. The best part is we get to catch up with each other sans babes. Always resulting in good solid discussion. With no interruptions.


Last night was actually our first gal's dinner for 2011 and we found ourselves back at one of our fave Lebanese restaurants. Boy, did we eat our weight in dips and breads and salads and meats AND vegetables. A lovely Oyster Bay white to accompany our delicious meal. Then customary of course to round off the night with an indulgent serving of Baklava. Always tastes better and removes some of the guilt when it's shared. So that's exactly what we did.


As per usual, alot of our chit chat revolved around the kids, the hubby's and our work. All of the girls, bar myself, were born and bred overseas. All from either the UK or The US, as are all of their hubby's. This brings about an entirely new layer of challenges that I haven't had to face as a mama. These gals are majorly homesick for a great portion of their lives and seem to live for their next trip home or when home visits them. Listening to each of them speak last night made me feel really fortunate that I do not have to walk in their shoes. I am raising my boys here in Australia, where ALL of my family reside. Where almost ALL of my long term friends reside. The same goes for Scott with his family and friends. I have literally no concept of how difficult, how much of a struggle and emotional pull these gals must go through every single day.


Hearing them speak so frankly, I began to fully appreciate the bond we have formed over these past few years. I know they feel the same way. In fact probably even more so than I do. In some ways, our support network that started as a mother's group, then evolved into a circle of mama's getting together for a cheap & cheerful night out once a month, has become a close knit band of friends. Sharing, supporting and understanding each other as though we'd known one another all our lives. Needless to say, we are looking most forward to our next gal's dinner, sometime in March and as always, a few much loved catchup's penciled in with our adorable babes in tow.