Did I mention ...

... the MOTH is coming home tomorrow ?!?!?!?

YAY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tears and tantrums* ...

We're not coping so well with the MOTH's absence ...

CRASH !!!

"Waaaahhh !!!"

K (with tears pouring down his face) : "I was drop-kicking my rugby ball in my bedroom and it bounced off the wall and off the other wall and hit my photo and it knocked my trophy down and now it's broken and ... waaahhhh !!!!!"

(Holds up broken BMX trophy in one hand and wheel from trophy in the other)

Me (glaringly unsympathetic) : "Well what were you drop-kicking your rugby ball in your bedroom for anyway ?"

K : "But now it's broken and I'll get in trouble cos I have to give it back ... and ... and ... and ..."

Me : "Do you think this is maybe why we don't let you drop-kick your rugby ball in your bedroom ?"

K : "Yes, but but but ... now it's broken and it's not a trophy any more ... it's just an "ophy" and and it's ... I broke its "tr" !!!"




* and it's not just the rugrats, I feel like throwing one too !!!!

Welcome home :) :) :)

Left home early this morning and called in to the courier depot to pick up my car keys ...

... I love my car !!!!

By the way ....

... I really really really hate those auto comment bot type things !!!

... it totally bites when you check your blog and see a comment and think "yippee !!! someone likes what I wrote enough to tell me what they think" ...

... and it's not a real person ...

... it's a real downer ...

Missing the MOTH ....

Five sleeps until the MOTH comes home (or maybe six, depending on how the job goes) !!!!

I was tidying up the lounge and found a piece of paper covered in the MOTH's handwriting. Reminded me how much I love him :)

I was off work sick one day last week with achey muscles and a headache. A "nana-nap" in the afternoon cured the symptoms and I was back at work the next day. But the MOTH decided that ringing in sick with a case of "general blah-ness" wasn't good enough, so he got creative ...

Below are the MOTH's top 10 reasons not to go to work (with the explanations, where required, in brackets) ...

10. Too far to drive (I work five mins drive away)
9. Stuck in traffic, was going to be late, so decided it wasn't worth it (in a traffic jam it takes me 15 mins to get to work instead of the usual five)
8. PMS (self explanatory really, although, alas, untrue)
7. It snowed yesterday (I'm still in shock ? Going skiing ?)
6. I'm still drunk from last night
5. Got out of bed on the wrong side and now I can't find the door
4. My husband's staying home in bed so I am as well (mischievous grin)
3. The kids have been suspended from school (maybe not - they're six and seven !!!)
2. Smoked some really good stuff last night and am too hungry to work (OK, anyone who's ever met me is gonna know this is a big fat lie !!!)
1. DILLIGAF !!!! *



* From the song by Kevin Bloody Wilson (Do I Look Like I Give a F&*% ?)

The universe is trying to tell me something ...

The MOTH is now in Greymouth (for those of you unfamiliar with New Zealand geography*, that's about an eight and a half hour drive from here on the other side of the big range of mountains down the middle of the South Island) ...

... for some unknown reason, so are my car keys ...



*myself included, I didn't know where it was until last week

We passed ... yippee !!!

We passed the property manager's "inspection" ... although to be perfectly honest she is so freaking vague I don't think she would have noticed had we removed all the shelves in the kitchen and used them for firewood.

(This is the same woman who, when she came to do the "pre-move-in-inspection" was heard to comment "Oh, I didn't realise this place had a washing machine, fridge and dishwasher" ... wtf is she managing exactly?!?!?!?)

The MOTH and I have also decided to renew our lease for a further twelve months, which means we won't have to worry about buying furniture and appliances in the short term, or the kids having to shift schools yet again ...

Happy (belated) birthday to you ...

There was an intriguing looking box addressed to the MOTH on the back step after work ...

His folks had sent him a belated birthday present ... a "reverse-Pandora's box" full of MOTH delicacies !!!

Kahlua chocolates ... choc coated coffee beans ... spicy bhuja mix ... flavoured coffee ... dried fruit and nuts ... mini Flake and Moro bars ... chocolate fish ... Snickers flavoured Pods (possibly the best chocolate snack on the planet !!) ... tinned black doris plums ... crackers ... cheese ... cookies ... every time he took off a layer, there was another layer of food underneath !!!

And it got me thinking. I mean, there was some weird stuff in that box (little individual snack sized tins of flavoured tuna ... the MOTH loves seafood !!!) It probably would have been a lot cheaper and easier for his folks to arrange a gift basket with one of the local florists.

But every single solitary item in that box (right down to the banana flavoured dessert mix with chocolate chips, because he doesn't like any other flavour) was chosen with the MOTH's preferences in mind.

The most important thing that box contained was a whole lotta love :)

Some days you should just stay in bed ...

Reasons I should have stayed in bed this morning ...

The garage door is jammed shut and so I can't get my car out
I had to drive the MOTH's ute to work
I'm still achey from being sick yesterday
The heat pump in the office which keeps everyone else toasty warm blows cold air straight down the back of my neck
So I'm sitting at my desk wearing my fake fur jacket (the one S affectionately refers to as my "elephant coat")
The function keys on my keyboard still don't work from the terminal server upgrade two weeks ago
I'm entering stuff into our new database that would require function keys, which don't work, so I'm doing everything with a freaking mouse (I hate using a mouse !!!)
I just rang the property manager to arrange someone to come and un-jam the garage door, and she's postponed our property inspection for the third time !!!!
So I could have gone to bed early last night instead of staying up wiping down shelves and folding laundry ...

And the MOTH's going away for another whole week on Sunday :(

I am the worst mother in the world ...

It snowed again last night.

I thought I was doing quite well ... I made the rugrats hot soup to take to school in flasks, ensured they were well equipped with beanies and scarves and warm jackets ... and dropped them off at school at 8.30 as per usual ...

K (looking at the deserted playground) : "Has the bell gone already ?"
Me : "Don't be so silly, it's only 8.30 !! It's just everyone being very sensible and staying inside cos it's so cold"
K : "Oh, OK"

I stopped at Starbucks on the way into work to jump start my day with a grande trim chai latte (because some days plain coffee just won't do !!) ... it was closed because none of the staff had arrived yet :(

I walked in the door at work ...

S : "What are you doing here ?"
Me : "Ummm (is this a trick question ... did I get fired yesterday and miss it ?) ... I work here ?"
S : "All the schools are closed until 10.00 ... didn't you know ?"
Me : "Oh, so that would be why there was no-one in the playground then ?"

I just rang the school ... apparently I am not the only parent who didn't realise that the rugrats shouldn't be there, so they have herded them all into the library to let them watch videos until the teachers and the rest of their classmates (those with good parents who know about things like snow days !!) arrive. I am, however, the only parent who has a legitimate excuse ... we don't have a lot of snow days in Whangarei ...

We have snow !!!!

As per my earlier promise to the rugrats (who missed the last snowfall because their school is too close to the beach to be affected) ...

We left home earlier than usual this morning and drove right through town to the lookout on Signal Hill where the rugrats squealed, yelled with excitement, and threw snowballs at each other (and the car).

OK, so admittedly there isn't a lot of snow out there. And it's been raining and hailing all morning, so what there was has pretty much turned into slush. But looking out the office window I can still see snow on the houses on the hills on the other side of town, and there was more than enough to satisfy the requirements of two rugrats from Northland :)

Hard to be flippant ...

This is a hard post to write. I've done a bit of internal debating with myself as to whether to post or not. But this is a journal, online or not, and life isn't always rosy. And if anyone feels like commenting or providing advice, it will be very gratefully received ...

I took a phone call from K's teacher just before dinner. She has serious concerns about his self esteem, and emotional wellbeing.

Apparently there was a (relatively minor) incident in the playground at school on Friday afternoon. When she took K aside to speak to him, he had a major meltdown ... bursting into tears and then crying hysterically, telling her he is the "stupidest boy in the world" and that "no one loves him" and how he "wants to go home because he had friends there" and (which shocked the hell out of me and literally left me stunned and gasping on the end of the phone) ... how he "wants to kill himself" ...

Apparently a few weeks ago pretty much the same thing happened (without the comment about harming himself) during a maths lesson when he repeatedly got the answer wrong ... along with the comment "I'm so dumb, I'll never be clever like Mummy" ...

K has always been emotional / sensitive. He cries at the drop of a hat and until now a lot of the time I guess we've just thought he was "putting it on" and told him to harden up. But we're constantly telling him how he has a great brain and how smart he is, and the MOTH and I both thought he was coping with our move well ... we regularly ask him how he likes it here and he says everything is fine.

Obviously it's not fine. In fact it is so totally not fine that I don't have a clue what to do !!! For a seven year old kid to be coming out with comments like that is extraordinarily disturbing ... when it's my seven year old it's completely devastating !!!

The MOTH and I have an appointment with the school on Wednesday afternoon so that we can talk about it and put some "strategies" in place for coping with it.

He's loved, he's wanted, he's a special kid ... he's mine and I'd fight to the death to protect him ... where the hell have I gone wrong ?!?!?!?

When I grow up ...

K was in his bedroom this morning practicing his haka for "when I'm an All Black". The boy has big dreams ... good on him !!! Not only will he make it big as an All Black, due to the obscenely long eyelashes he inherited from his father, there will no doubt be lucrative product endorsements for a string of Maybelline mascaras.

This was followed by the New Zealand national anthem, the official version of which goes like ...

"... guard Pacific's triple star
from the shafts of strife and war ..."

K's extremely stirring rendition went like this ...

"... guard Pacific's triple star
from the giraffes of strife and war ..."

Think it'll catch on ?

Nothing like a blow to the head ...

K .. running into the kitchen after reading his encylopaedia in his room ...

"I know what concussion is now !!! It's what they put in swimming pools to keep them clean !!!"

Fuzzy logic ...

S : I'm dressed !!

Me : WELL DONE !!! (trying to catch them being good and remembering that this is a child who can take half an hour to change her shirt)

S : And I don't need to change my socks 'cos I washed my feet

?!?!?

My two cents worth ...

I've purposely refrained from posting about Katrina, mainly because I couldn't think of anything useful to add to the commentary already out there.

But one throught this struck me this morning on this (in America), the fourth anniversary of 9-11 ... and it hasn't gone away ...

Why is it treated as more of a tragedy what happened then, than what happened in New Orleans ? The "relief" effort is a joke, and people are dying needlessly due to the ineptitude of those they trusted to take charge ...

Is it somehow worse when someone else does it to you (ie. terrorists) than it is when you do it / allow it to happen, to yourselves ?

Will we still be commemorating New Orleans in four years time ?

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em ...

As I am fighting a losing battle in the quietness war, I have decided (at least for the moment) to join in whole-heartedly ...

Hence, this morning, prior to leaving for school, the rugrats spent fifteen minutes jumping repeatedly onto large sheets of giant bubble-wrap and making the most unholy racket ...

And I deny wholeheartedly any suggestion that I was in any way responsible for (a) bringing the stuff into the house or (b) jumping up and down on it as well (although I may accidentally have stepped on a piece on my way down the hall) ...

(Gosh it was fun)

Where'd the weekend go ?!?!?

Well it's Sunday evening, and I have no idea where my weekend went ... it's not like I even did anything !!!

Let's see (in no particular order) ...

Visit to the friendly neighbourhood butcher (one of the highlights of my week - he's so nice)
Copious quantities of laundry
Grocery shopping
Changed the sheets on the beds
Children's birthday party
Vacuuming
Dusting (the coal range is starting to lose its appeal)
BMX training
S's friend over for play-date
Visit to the park
Shopping for jeans for K (who currently destroys them at the rate of about one pair a week)
Homework
Mending K's old jeans
Searched the entire house for S's hairbrush

I mentioned to the MOTH that I hadn't had a chance to do anything I wanted to this weekend. He replied "so, what did you want to do ?"

All I could come up with was "I don't know, but I didn't have time to do it !!"

I think can feel another morning at Starbucks with a book coming on ...

PS : I cannot believe we have been in Dunedin for four months already !!!

I can't take the noise any more !!!

S sings all the time ... K just likes noise for the sake of it. He'll hum ... he'll make monster noises ... he'll "sing" (the poor boy is tone deaf) ... he'll whistle ... and if all that fails he'll stomp or skip or clap his hands and tap his feet. I'm damned sure that it would be physically impossible for him to sit still and stay quiet if his life depended on it.

This morning while we were getting ready, suddenly it was just all too much for me. I went into the kitchen and the TV was on so we could watch Danger Mouse before we walked out the door (as you do), but K hadn't turned the radio off, so that was on too, and he was singing (a different song to what was on the radio) and clapping his hands ... and S was tickling him and giggling ...

I just want it to stop !!!

I grew up in a quiet household. My folks never ever yelled at us. In fact, the angrier my mom got, the quieter she got. When she whispered, boy, you knew you were in trouble then. My dad never yelled either. He had that "dad" look that spoke louder than words and meant "you better cut that out right now or man you are gonna get it when you get home !!" OK ... so I was scared of my folks a bit growing up. OK, sometimes it was more than a bit. And no, I don't want my rugrats growing up scared of me ... at least, not unreasonably so (a little fear is a good thing) ...

I've tried not yelling ... really really really I have !!! I'm apparently completely incapable of doing the "mom" look that instilled such fear into my sister and I growing up. Either that or my rugrats are genetically immune to such tactics.

I realise that complete silence is unrealistic with small children ... but the phrase that comes out of my mouth the most often at the moment is "would you two please just shut up ?" ... and I don't like it. How do I get a quiet(er) house back !?!?

Lazy Sunday afternoon ...

K had rugby prize giving this morning at 10.00am. “Rocks in the Head” award goes to the bright spark who thought that this was a good idea ... 10.00am on a Sunday is bad enough, but 10.00am on Father’s Day ... where exactly does the parental lie-in feature in that plan ?!?!?

However, unlike last year’s fiasco at his club up north, which was essentially a festival of self-congratulation for the coaches and the club, whereby they reminded us all how wonderful they were and appeared to have forgotten that the point of prize giving was actually the kids (remember them ?!?) ... this morning’s was short, sweet, and to the point ...

- Thank sponsors
- Introduce famous rugby player
- Give out prizes
- Adjourn outside for lolly scramble and sausage sizzle
- Go home

As we now had the whole afternoon free, we drove along the peninsula to the royal albatross colony. Last time we were there was when K was five months old, so he was somewhat less than appreciative. This time around he asked so many questions I felt sorry for our poor guide.

We took the extended tour, with the chance to go down into the tunnels dug into the headland and see the “disappearing gun”, installed when it was feared we were going to be over-run by either the Russians or the Japanese (neither of whom, surprisingly, were remotely interested in a small boring chain of islands in the deep south).

The rugrats were allowed to climb up and down the ladders and turn the big wheels to point it in right direction. Part of the underground cavern has been turned into a display area, with piped in 1940s music and nostalgic paraphenalia.

I was particularly intrigued with the following regulations in the Enlisted Soldier’s Manual of Acceptable Behaviour ...

Item 4 - Be most particular in regard to the cleanliness of your person, clothing, equipment and manner.

Item 8 - Keep yourself fit, avoid excess of stimulants, and above all remember the very serious dangers of illicit sexual intercourse, against which you are specially warned in the interests of your future health and happiness.

Now where’s the fun in that ?

Happy Father's Day ...

We were awoken by a tentative knock on the bedroom door at around 8.00am this morning. K shuffled into the room with a look of intense concentration on his face ... and breakfast in bed "made all by myself" for both the MOTH and I (his reasoning being that if it wasn't for me, the MOTH wouldn't be a Daddy, so I deserve breakfast in bed too) ...

Now, I'm not naturally a morning person. Two rugrats have forced me to become a "grin-and-bear-it" morning person. I'm not good with breakfast at the best of times ...

But I still managed to summon the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for two pieces of cold "toast" with vegemite (I'm not sure what's up with the other people in my house ... I tend towards the "nearly overcooked" version of toast, while everyone else prefers the "barely warm bread" end of the spectrum). The MOTH fared slightly better with cereal, fruit and yoghurt.

And K remembered how we both have our coffee. Except he couldn't prise the lid off the coffee jar the MOTH prefers, so he made him hot chocolate. He even remembered I take sweetener tablets instead of sugar. However, in all the concentration, I suspect he actually forgot to put the coffee in my cup, as it bore a startling resemblence to warm, milky water.

So we ate every bite - under the nervous, watchful, apprehensive gaze of a very very proud seven year old ...

Anatomy 101 ...

S has a new toothbrush ... one of those fancy ones with the tongue-cleaner-scrubby-thingy on the back of it.

While over-zealously cleaning her tongue this morning, the whole gag-reflex kicked in.

K : You have to be careful when you're cleaning your tongue with that ...
Me : (awww ... he cares about his sister and doesn't want her to choke to death)
S : Hrmmmggghhh ?? (through a mouthful of toothpaste and new-pink-shiny-toothbrush)
K : If you scrub too hard ... all your tastebuds will fall off

And he was serious :)

Happy Birthday MOTH !!!

As the rugrats will tell anyone who looks even remotely interested (and quite a few people who aren't) ... the MOTH was 31 today !!!

There's no hiding your age in our household. The rugrats know down to the last millisecond how old everyone is. (In fact, when he was younger, K came out with the now immortal line "S one, I three, Daddy 26 ... and Mummy a dinosaur !!")

The MOTH requested dinner at a Japanese restaurant where they throw knives and food. We've been to a few, and the entertainment alone is worth the visit ... the food becomes of almost secondary importance. The only problem is that the nearest throw-food-and-knives-in-the-air Japanese restaurant is three hours away in Queenstown.

As we haven't been out for dinner since we arrived in Dunedin (no S, McDonald's does not count as going out for dinner !) we had no idea where to go. Everyone at work recommended a place called Lone Star as a "good place to go for dinner when you want something really nice and have kids".

And it was lovely ... even if I did bring home a doggy-bag bigger than the portion of my meal I actually managed to eat. When I ordered lamb shanks, I had no idea that would mean I'd be facing a plate with three of them on it ... and what's more, they all looked like they had a pretty good portion of the lamb they came from still attached !! None of the "gigantic-plate-tiny-artistically-arranged-portion-of-food-go-home-and-then-have-dinner" type of meals for this restaurant.

All of which leads me, eventually, to the point of this post. We take our rugrats out for dinner quite often (well, we did before we moved here apparently - I think it's because it's too cold at night and we'd rather just order in and stay in front of the fire ... but I digress, yet again). They know how to behave in a restaurant, ie. they are not the little monsters running around between the tables yelling and trying to trip up the wait staff.

So K ordered spare ribs for dinner. When they arrived he looked confused. And didn't eat them. And then just picked up his knife and fork and stared at them. And looked confused again. (No, the boy has never eaten them before ... I don't serve pork because I can't stand the smell of it cooking) ...

Me : No honey. No knife and fork ... you pick them up with your fingers and eat them that way.
K : (with a look of absolute horror on his face) You mean now, in public ?!?!