GEE YOU'RE BRAVE

The memories laid down in the threads.

2012-01-22T22:34:00.000+11:00

In preparation for our second little one joining us shortly I have been organising the clothes of my daughter to sell at a baby and kids market stall.

The progress has been slow. Not only because of the sheer volume of teeny tiny pieces, my daughter began life wearing size premmie, but because of the emotions.

When I look at the clothes I feel like my daughter has grown up in the blink of an eye. In the time it took me to exhale she moved from 00000 to a size 5. Just like that. Instant little lady.

Of course then I remember how at times days and hours have stretched before us both and we felt we had a lifetime to savour each stage of development.

But when I held these garments in my hands the memories came flooding back. I held up a tiny outfit to my husband who smiled and nodded with the "that's nice dear, a cute tiny outfit, what are you showing me that for" look.

I remembered this is what she wore the first time she went to church. Each garment held a new memory. First birthday parties, the time she sat up by herself, my BFF son's 1st birthday party, cuddles as a newborn in 00000 outfits, her first Christmas, playdates with friends. I can recall even photographing her wearing particular outfits.

Now I expect her christening outfit and flowergirl outfits but I can recall a jumpsuit who my nephew had the same one of and the time we laid them in the cot together. Or the time she first wore teeny tiny denim jeans.

Moments which I thought had been lost to my memory were all stored away in the clothes. Knitted tightly like the threads of the garment. Making it harder to price each item cheaply to sell.

Would I forget when I sold the clothes?

How we form memories, store them and have them triggered is fascinating. My mum has a way with numbers. She can recall telephone numbers of every house she has lived in, her highschool locker number while I am lucky to remember my own postcode.

Some people find their memories are linked with perfume or a smell that can almost transport them back to moments in time.

I kept working through the tubs of clothes. Smiling as each new memory came to me, and staring in astonishment at Raya until she wanted to know what I was looking at.

I am going to sell the clothes for the money and the space. Knowing soon there will be more new, teeny tiny clothes just waiting to be threaded with memories.

Feeling like a first time mum

2012-01-09T16:45:00.000+11:00

Recently I found myself standing in a baby section of a larger store with a completely blank mind. I had a flashback of feeling like a 'new mum'. Now this is not to insult new mums but when I was a mum to be the first time I was unsure of many things - that giant leap into the unknown.

So I was a little unprepared to have those feelings this time around. Surely all the hours put in with the almost 4 year old who was doing the hard sell for a packet of Smarties had ensured I would be facing this pregnancy with a degree of confidence.

Surely I am not the only second time mum who seems to have conveniently 'forgotten' what the newborn phase is like. More realistically it is just denial.

People have been amusing themselves by assuring us that this second baby, our son, will be "our horror child". How charming. Thankyou to all those people who have no filter on their mouths and speak before thinking. I hope they aren't right a part of my brain whispers.

Second time around I am certainly more confident with wrapping I could keep houdini in, breastfeeding we overcame so many possible obstacles in our 17 months of feeding the first time and bathing slippery little things.

However I am totally drawing a blank on numerous issue. One of these is clothes.

What size am I meant to be buying? How many? My brain seems incapable of computing which season we will be in when our son is 3-6 months, 6-9 months and then will I need 00000, 0000 or god forbid I have to deliver a baby which fits straight into 000. Referencing to Raya is no help as we had to fold newborn nappies in half and she was wearing premmie clothes.

All of a sudden there is a chink in the confidence armour. Raya was a great sleeper who came home from the SCN in a routine and 4 hourly feeds. This time hopefully we will be straight home and establishing our own routines. Is that the sound of another chink appearing.

Has anyone else felt like a first time mum, second time around?

A january to do list

2012-01-06T08:43:00.000+11:00

Welcome to 2012. I can hardly believe that this is the year we will welcome another little one into our family and I will be holding another baby in my arms. 2012 is the year of another big adventure.

I can anticipate a few reality moments of "who do both of these childen belong too" in 2012. I don't enjoy pregnancy - the non stop nausea and vomiting but I am savouring the experience more this time (not the insulin injections) balanced against lots of "come out I can't wait to meet you thoughts".

Christmas was relaxing and slower paced this year which suited my pregnant self. Raya was spoilt by Santa.Rather than cramming things into one day we spent longer with different groups of family and enjoyed ourselves more - and spread out the dessert consumption.

NYE was low-key and spent with friends. We are past the clubbing stage now and fighting for a cab as a way to celebrate the new year.

A lot of blogs have been talking about new years resolutions or what I like to think of as January's to do list. I used to love resolutions but I have realised that change comes for me not from one big decision in the first month of the year but from a consistent series of smaller decisions and it's consistency which is the key.

2012 is the year of keeping it simple and the pressure off from within. I am looking forward to putting family first and not having the pressures of anything else but being a mummy to two little ones.

However there are PLENTY of jobs which we need to do to be ready before the baby comes. Not that the little one will be aware of them being completed but we are remembering that sleep deprivation and knowing that if we don't get on top of things now things will be looking ugly by the middle of the year.

We also have a busy calendar. There are birthdays of 6 close family members including myself, hubby, Aurelia and 3 children before the baby comes, a baby shower to organise, a dedication, calm birthing classes and this is all hoping that the baby stays inside till close to full term.

Did you make resolutions this year or give them a miss? Share away what adventures you have planned for 2012.

Maternity Clothes

2011-11-16T14:30:00.000+11:00

Well I am now in the second trimester and I can tell you the body 'assumes the position' much faster the second time around, well at least it has in my case. It's not like everything bounced back perfectly from the first pregnancy so I guess I shouldn't be surprised by my bump, but I still am. I have been comparing my bump to pictures and it is small-average (from being so unwell) but I am in the stage where normal clothes look like I have let myself go and my old maternity ones are too big. Nice - so people just think I look fatter than usual lol

Which means I just have to comment on maternity clothes. Have these designers ever been pregnant? Do they think that on top of the side effects of pregnancy a pregnant woman should suffer the additional indignity of wearing floral, paisley, printed stretchy something or other - erugh. What is with the hideous material? Just awful

All my maternity clothes are unpacked and just looking at the old ones made me vomit - all those past memories of feeling so unwell came rushing back.

So having a rare day of vomiting less than 1 million times (made up for it by being back to true form today) I went into Sussan with mum and found some dresses which should see me thru to the end of the pregnancy. If I get too big and these don't fit then I won't be leaving the house I tell ya.

And yes of course I look just like this model

I thought this would do for Christmas day

I love this one on - it will stretch as my bump grows and it is so comfy.

I also picked up a floaty top and a gorgeous navy dress which I can't find images of on the website.

The bump has given us a bit of a scare of late but at least now my maternity fashion won't be scary to strangers and even though I feel huge the shop assistant couldn't tell I was pregnant so I can't be too massive yet.

Gee We're Brave x 2

2011-10-17T09:22:00.001+11:00

I've been absent from this blog for quite a while because I have been busy baking the newest addition to our family. That is right - in April next year our family of three will be extending to a family of four.

It was such a wonderful surprise. We found out I was pregnant the week before we flew out to Fiji for Nick's cousin's wedding. I was anxious about going as I was horrendously ill with Aurelia right from the outset and I had no idea how far along I was when I tested positive.

In hindsight it was the perfect timing - even a couple of weeks later would have been a complete disaster as I was violently unwell by the time we returned to Sydney.

I was petrified to become pregnant again knowing it was likely that I would have hyperemesis again, which I have, but I know how wonderful the outcome is at the end.

I am seeing a high risk obstetrician who is taking excellent care of me. I have already had hospital visits with many more scheduled but if that is what it takes to grow our little one, so be it.

Hyperemesis gravidarum can be read about at Help HER.ORG because it is NOT the same as morning sickness - not even close. Thankfully people are generally being more understanding and helpful this time around - like not wearing perfume, deoderant or soap if they come to visit :)

So I think a pretty good reason for neglecting the blog. I will come back and share about our time in Fiji because the Yasawa Islands were truely paradise.

Let's Go fly a kite

2011-08-29T16:30:00.000+10:00

Where we live is picture perfect in summer but also popular. Winter when she brings rains makes our local area a real pain to live in and our rental a little like Noah's Ark with the flooding on the inside. But when winter whips up weekend sunshine with bright blue skies we get the picturesque location without the crowds.

This week I went to Mary Poppins for work. This was cheaper and better. Love the beach in winter and happy, giggling girls.

I must have missed the memo

2011-08-16T10:36:00.000+10:00

Last Saturday night I went into the city to celebrate the upcoming wedding of a friend at a girls Hens Night. Despite not being a 'dancer' I was looking forward to the Salsa night organised. I used to like dancing but these days my body has flabby parts which keep dancing after the music has stopped. But more than the dancing I was looking forward to a girls night and as expected it was a great night with lots of laughs.

We were a group of women from all ages - early twenties through to their sixties and accordingly our outfits for the salsa lessons varied slightly.

Yet once the restaurant converted into a nightclub all of the women in our group, of varied age and professions, were shocked at the dress code of the young women that arrived.

I mentioned out loud that I must have missed the memo on how to dress now a days (and people and my thighs can be thankful for that) because apparently now it is the fashion to go out in public with your Vajazzle on display.

I saw a girl walk past our table and I could see her butt cheeks out the bottom of her dress.No word of a lie. If I had been eating then her butt would have brushed my steak. It wasn't a dancing costume, just a tight, extremely short dress (some would argue a crop top pulled down) that left NOTHING to the imagine and actually revealed more than I cared to see. More than any of us wanted to see.

Now it is each woman's perogative to dress as they choose but even on the very skinny girls I saw, these dresses just didn't look flattering, or comfortable. Combined with being strapless and the girls wearing extremely high heels - the outfit looked like some kind of torture device.

This dress code wasn't isolated. Girl after girl flooded into the place all dressed like clones. All with their privates close to not remaining private. Lots of laughs were had but all of us seriously said how shocking it was and almost sad to see the girls wearing these outfits. Some of the older women remembered wearing short mini skirts in the 60s but they weren't made of lycra like these were.And they weren't so distractingly close to the genitalia that they made you forget all about the gorgeous pins.

I wondered where the motivation for wearing these outfits came from? Did the young girls really believe the outfits showed off their bodies in the best light possible? Were they wearing these outfits for men? I questioned this thought as none of the girls appeared to be enjoying the attention the outfits were gathering. Neither did the security guards who were having a very busy night.

Of course nothing makes you feel older than the "I never went out dressed like that" conversations which follow and even further the "I don't ever want to see my daughter out dressed like that".

Many of us present had little girls at home. I want my daughter to grow up loving her body, thinking she is beautiful and with a healthy developed self image with self respect. Right now I am glad she is in love with everything sparkly and thankful that Disney has set the current hems at ankle length.

Even better, the mermaid has her legs removed with a joined together mermaid tail. No chance of a mini skirt there.

I am thankful I missed the memo and will keep careful watch to make sure none similar arrive in the future for my daughter.

Traumatised by Exercise

2011-08-03T00:06:00.001+10:00

Today Nick was home sick so I used the opportunity to go for a walk. Having a toddler means exercising is a bit limited. She is too heavy to fit into the carrier, her legs are too little to walk very far and we have some killer hills. Pushing my 19kg daughter plus the weight of the pram wouldn't result in me getting fitter, it would result in me dying.

So I left her at home with her dad (who was dying of man flu) and got about exercising.

Exercising in itself is a little traumatic. See I am very unfit and my joints are making me feel like I am 50. Totally self inflicted I admit but seeing I am needing to wear a bikini in oh 1 months time in Fiji (crap I should have really started working out earlier) I decided to get going. So off I went huffing and puffing and chanelling the Little Engine who Could.

My hubby, who loves to go mountain biking through the bush told me of a track to go through. He told me he found it rejuvenating. It involved mostly downhill till I reached the Basin and then a walk around the basin till the Bridge and then back up the hill to the other end of our street. I had walked a short part of the track coming from the opposite direction near the Bridge and that part was flat.

Sounded good.

Turned out to be very good. Great. Heart -attack inducing almost. Why?

Because I got terrified and ended up sprinting most of it.

I had turned off our main road through the small suburb I live in, behind the bus shelter, and was walking down the path which was clearly marked as hubby had described.

I had my ipod going and was happily moving along. I was several hundred metres down the track and clearly out of sight of the road.

As I continued down the path concentrating on where I put my feet I felt all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. All of a sudden my body was in full alert. I stopped and pulled my ipod out of my ears and stood still.

See we have a deer problem in the National Park and I wondered whether there had been an animal close to me that I had sensed but not heard. Don't think Bambi, think more Moose with big antlers. Think - keep your distance.

So I stand there scanning and then my eye sees something yellow and my heart almost stops. It is a yellow cap. On someone's head. On a man's head. A man haunched in the bushes. Not a man having a wee or walking his dog. A 50 year old man who I don't recognise as being a local.

We make eye contact and I feel sick in the stomach. That horrible, certain feeling that something is not right.

He rises to his feet and just stands there. Looking me dead in the eye. Shit.

I smile and say "Hi how you going". He keeps staring at me. Staring and saying nothing. He doesn't look homeless and he is of anglo appearance. Shit. Now this seems drawn out in the explaining but in real time it played out quite quickly.

EVERY part of me is now screaming to run. The good ol fight or flight response and my body has clearly chosen flight. The internal alarms are not just buzzing they are screaming.

Now it may not sound bad but this was one situation where everything was telling me 'GET OUT'.

It took everything I had to casually turn back in the direction I had come from and putting my hands to my mouth yell "Hurry up Nick, Gary I'll meet you at the bottom". I touched my watch and said to the guy "I'm going to beat them both today".

His head turned to look at where I had come from and at that moment I took off.

I was flying. I ran propelled by sheer panic. My arms were slashed by the sticks on the sides of the path and I kept going. Jumping over rocks, sliding, covering the distance as quick as humanely possible.

My lungs were burning and I kept sucking in the air tearing along the path with every bit of speed i could muster.

The sounds of my feet and the blood pounding in my ears was the soundtrack. I was seriously freaked out. Even typing now gives me goosebumps.

I raced to the bottom my ears searching for every twig snapping noise in the vicinity.

I got to the bottom of the track and launched off a boulder. Fine on a mountain bike but my knees need improved suspension.

I was bolting. Truly running in a sweating, arms flailing, totally panic stricken way.

And then the path became flooded. It was underwater.

The basin has mangroves around the outside. Probably due to the recent rainfall or overactive mountain bikers the track was fully mud. I had no option but to keep going.

My feet were submerged. My white Asics were now totally covered in mud. I wanted to cry.

My legs felt like led, my chest was going to explode and now I was getting bogged in every.single. step.

Jumping on reeds where I could with mud splashed up my calves, I kept going.

I finally saw the bridge and ran even faster. How on earth I hauled my overweight body faster I will never know.

Up the trail knowing the end of my street was only 200 m ahead.

As I flew out of the trail into the street I was covered in mud, sweat streaming down my face, left arm bleeding and ran straight into the couple who live across the road from us.

He smiled at me but his wife saw me and I must have had the panic still on my face because she touched her husbands arm and they stopped walking. I couldn't even speak.I was breathing like a freight train.

I signalled I was going home and kept walking. Within a minute I was in our front gate.

The relief was overwhelming. I clung to the rock wall outside our house sucking in oxygen. My poor heart. Thank god for adrenalin. When I could breathe normally again I shoved my shoes and socks in the washing machine, walked up the stairs and into the lounge room.

Hubby looked up. I told him my story. He listened and then having determined I was safe now said "well at least you got a good workout".

A good work out. I was seriously traumatised by the exercise.

I will be sticking to the road in future.

My mood matched the weather

2011-07-24T09:33:00.000+10:00

This week my mood has matched the horrible weather we have had. After all the wishing, hoping and finger crossing we found out that the house we had been dreaming about would not be ours. We didnt' lose out to another bidder. The vendor decided that he was not content with his asking price and wasn't going to sell his house in the current market. Just like a slow roller coaster ride building up hopes and then rushing down, all without the exciting adrenaline rush.

I was upset, then more upset and then angry. All the time spent meeting with brokers and running around, sourcing conveyancers. I was really relieved that we hadn't paid for a building inspection. Time spent imagining our family living in the space.

Such a waste of time in my holidays.

Even more annoying is the likelihood that the house we are renting is going to be sold.Typical

Still just like the sun has come out today my mood is lifting. I suspect the house will go back on the market eventually. Technically it is still listed for sale but if he won't take even his asking price he will need to change the listed price.

I suspect he will be selling within 6 months, waiting till summer when he thinks he will have more interest. We'll keep waiting too.

Mind Games

2011-07-17T21:39:00.000+10:00

Chouette on Weheart it

I am not a fan of mind games. People who know me know that's not my style or my personality. I am a 'tell you what I think' kind of person. I like to be honest and like others to show me the same respect. Always tactful but direct.

This is why I am not enjoying the process of buying a house. If you are reading and nodding your head I would love to read about your experiences in the comments section below.

There are so many variables. Working out what the vendor wants, how the real estate agent works. I hate it. HATE it.

But I love the house.

Bring on more mind games tomorrow

Where East meets West

2011-07-16T17:37:00.000+10:00

After finishing at the Blue Mosque we walked across the road to the Hagia Sofia, perhaps the most significant feature on the city's skyline.

Now a museum, the Hagia Sofia has been around since the 6th century (537 to be exact). The grand dome and four minarets point skywards and the interior is a modest introduction to the grandeur within.

Our photos don't do it justice but this was unquestionably the most impressive peace of architecture we had been in during our travels.

The history buried, and slowly being excavated, behind these walls is incredible. Istanbul is a city where East meets West and Hagia Sofia has been the meeting point of Christianity and Islam throughout the Ottoman and Byzantine Empires.

Now a museum it represents the clash between religion and culture.

The 9th century mosaics emerging are incredible. Also we ran into the American guy who bailed us out at the airport during our visa fiasco which was also incredible!

After we left the museum we strolled down to the river. Even more incredible than the Hagia Sofia was that a bird flying overhead managed to miss both myself and Raya who was asleep in the Ergo and poo straight onto Nick.

The call to prayer

2011-07-13T16:50:00.000+10:00

The Muadhin's call to prayer slices through the night silence like a knife. A lone voice echoing across the velvet night sky. Nick bolts up in bed next to me as the call to Fajr echoes around our room. It is his sudden movement which stirs me from my sleep as his snoring caused me to sleep with ear plugs years ago. Perhaps we should relocate to Istanbul permanently I think and Nick would know what it is like to have interrupted sleep each night.

I don't like to be woken from sleep at anytime,even in the morning, but the call to prayer has an almost romantic, certainly exotic, appeal to it. There is a part of me which loves the knowledge that all across the city simultaneously followers of the faith are responding to the common signal.

In the morning while enjoying the amazing breakfast spread the hotel provides (nothing like real Turkish Delight with breakfast) we decided to go and see the Blue Mosque. Nick had chosen a brilliantly located hotel which meant that the main sites of Istanbul were in easy walking distance for our family.

The first destination had to be one of Istanbul's most popular tourist icons, the Sultanahmet which is commonly called the Blue Mosque. It's name comes from all the amazingly intricate blue tile work inside the mosque. So off we went.

The washing area before entering the mosque

The muslims who are visiting the mosque to worship use the above areas to wash themselves before entering. Visitors are not required to do so, thankfully as it was freezing, but are asked to remove their shoes.

Once inside the mosque visitors are allowed to take photos and are asked to behave in a respectful manner. Head coverings are not compulsory for visitors but again we chose to keep our heads covered out of respect for followers of the Muslim faith who were using the mosque.

As usual we saw people kicking up a fuss about what visitors were asked to do. Simple. Don't like the rules - don't visit. Shoes off is no major inconvenience. It is the same as being asked to remove your shoes at someone's home and considering the number of visitors combined with the fact that worshipers sit on the carpet floor, it is a reasonable request.

The interior was utterly breathtaking. Raya just spun around with her face up making Oooh noises which amused the people around her.

Raya had no shortage of friends. Little blonde haired girls are in shortage in Istanbul. Raya as usual loved every single minute of the attention.

The Blue Mosque reminded me of feeling I had when I visited Notre Dame. Both are Holy Places which have such a feeling of peace when you are inside them, irrespective of your personal beliefs. The architecture I surprisingly adored. Much like the remainder of Turkey - a gigantic, pleasant surprise.

Throughout the day we heard the calls to prayer go out across the city from the speakers in the minaret. Much to our amusement Aurelia would get a huge smile on her face and take off running whenever she heard it. Where exactly she was running too we weren't sure - perhaps the nearest mosque.

It's arrived

2011-07-13T15:35:00.000+10:00

This year for Aurelia's birthday I decided to create a Photobook for her. I don't have the patience for normal scrapbooking. The thought of all that glitter makes me shudder. So digital scrapbooking and photo organising for our house.

Raya adores reading books and what better than a book where she is the main character.

The original plan was to have it ready for her birthday but, well, even the best laid plans go astray. I decided at the last minute and the project took longer than expected to complete. Now that I have done it once I could do a far more professional job the second time around however it meets the standards of my 3 year old.

I prefer to use momento for my photobooks. I have used alternate companies but I love the quality and speed with which they can complete projects and sometimes you have to pay for these projects.

So last night when we arrived home I discovered that her Photobook had been delivered. She was so excited to open it this morning and I loved looking back at how much she has grown over the last year.

I would love to show the entire book, which is a feature of the momento software - you can email your finished product to friends, however there are other children's images in the book and their parents don't want their child on the blog. Fair enough.

So here is a page of just my adorable Aurelia

Do you create photobooks for your kids, videos or powerpoints for when they are older? How are you recording the memories?

Remembering Istanbul - the final destination.

2011-07-08T15:39:00.000+10:00

This weekend we have dear friends heading off on their 99 day overseas adventure. Seems being subjected to friends travel stories has taken it's toll and they are determined to have their own stories to torment us with. Have a great time guys!

Of course we happily shared our travel stories with them and we were asked why we hadn't finished off our travel stories about Turkey.Ah Turkey! As we sat in the afternoon sun on our deck, eating warm chocolate chunk brownies and reminiscing I was surprised with the rush of emotion I felt while discussing Turkey. Of all the places we went this is the one country I long to go back to the most. We had debated going to Turkey, tossing up between Istanbul and Cairo and I am forever grateful that we chose Turkey and ended our journey on such a high note.

Yes all of the travel stories, well most of them, have been told but I had held off on Turkey.I said it was time, in that I didn't have enough of it, but that isn't entirely truthful. There have been plenty of opportunities that I could have blogged about our final destination.

Truth betold when I went to write about Istanbul I found my hands just hovered over the keys. Never being one to force posts, to me that's not what is about, I waited.

And waited. I had all the facts about the city but there was something about Turkey that held me back. Perhaps because it was the end of our journey. Perhaps because there was so much emotion tied to the city. Perhaps because it was such an exotic, intoxicating place that I felt I couldn't do it justice.

So I never finished the posts. As close as I came was our 'funny now but not at the time' visa fiasco. I even asked Nick to do the final blogs, knowing that was never going to happen.

I read other travel blogs for the phrases they used and still came up with nothing that really said what I wanted to say about Turkey.

Instead as I dragged my toes I found that the facts just slipped away.

Now I could go and read up on places to ensure I have the factual names and dates for architecture that we visited but that isn't how I want to write. Names and dates don't describe the amazing feeling that comes over you when you stand in a holy place, even one of a different faith, and feel yourself as part of something greater. Facts and details don't describe the warmth of the people and friendliness of the locals in the bazaars. Anyone can go to Wikipedia for standard facts. The whole purpose of our travel blog was to share the experiences as we had them. The trouble was we found Turkey so phenomenal, so overwhelming, so beyond our poor descriptions that making things up now and trying to remember how we felt at the time 18 months later just seems dishonest.

I have struggled with how to finish off the posts about Turkey because we wanted to turn this blog into a book. Print off and bind the travel stories so we could read them to Aurelia when she was older and she would have a collection of the experiences. I wanted a worthy conclusion to our journey.

But instead I choose a less wordy,honest closure because in reality the journey is not over for us. We will always be travelling, desiring to know what new experiences lay over the horizon.

So I will end the posts on Turkey with the information I can recall and lots of pictures because don't people say pictures speak 1000 words

Picture posts to come

Kick Arse Blogs

2011-07-08T14:39:00.000+10:00

Blogging has such an amazing sense of community about it and there are some amazing blogs being published. Inspiring, heart felt, uplifting, encouraging, beautiful, brave, funny, informative blogs.

Here are some of the amazing blogs I like to check in with.

Cakies

Frills in the Hills

Enjoying the Small Things

Maxabella Loves

Fat Mum Slim

Bringing Home the Bacon

Amy blogging about Bub and Life on the Farm

Curb Side Creations

Young House Love

IKEA Hackers

Color Me Katie

Kaleidoscope

Better After

Wanderlust

None of them are actually related to travel but they pass the time nicely between travel.

Enjoy

A new addiction - Get Pinned

2011-07-07T09:11:00.000+10:00

I am totally in love with a new online community and site. Have you checked out Pinterest yet. Nope, then click on the link and see what I have already pinned. I was warned how addictive this is and I really should have listened. The best way to describe Pinterest is to say it is like flicking through magazines but only better. The inspiration is incredible. Everything you could imagine, if creative, is here.

Below are some of my favourite pins. Oh and if anyone knows where I can find the last image - let me know and I will love you forever.

A fish apartment

Love the quote on the wall

And these are my two favourite finds so far. I love this chair and the kitchen is to die for. Very scandinavian.

My favourite kitchen

Fingers Crossed Mode

2011-07-05T06:00:00.003+10:00

Our potential Forever House views.

We had a second look. We are now in Fingers Crossed mode. Another offer was placed on it but thankfully rejected.

Phew

Our Forever House

2011-07-04T16:48:00.000+10:00

So our current status is renters and home owners. Confused? Well we rent a home in the suburb of our choice and we own a home that we purchased while pregnant (yes technically the bank owns that house - well the majority).

We moved to our current location when we returned from our overseas trip and we continued to rent our property with good tenants - touch wood! We don't want to live in the are we rent but our house is a great little investment property with good returns.

Nick and I had the discussion about future plans and decided that realistically we just couldn't afford to buy a house in our dream location( where we rent) until we were both back at work. We could both see another addition to the family down the track and we knew I would want to be home with the second bubs like I was with Raya. Reality bites

Out of interest I checked out Domain each week both for rentals and buying. Our rental is old and I was worried that if the owners sold we would be stuck with another rental property more than double the current price. And yes I enjoyed looking at the houses for sale. The mean house price in our area is over $1 million dollars with some lovely homes.

So I watched the market. I saw how many properties were sitting on the market, the prices and how prices changed over time.

Watching out of interest but totally comfortable with knowing that we weren't purchasing.

Until I saw the house.

I watched it for several weeks. I watched the price drop and when it reached it's current price I demanded that we go and at least have a look.

It is seriously the worst house in the best street scenario.

Nick went to appease me I am sure. During the first inspection Nick was very quiet and I thought it was a bad sign. Me - well my heart beat fast as soon as we went inside.

It was in a bad way but this baby had great bones. I knew we could turn her into a supermodel - she had great bone structure.

Once we left Nick and I both bubbled over with how much we loved it.

This could be our Forever home.

We weren't planning on buying but sometimes things happen for a reason, right?

Now we are planning a second look and a building inspection - but I have a good feeling about it.

I feel it could be our Forever home

Noxious Weeds

2011-07-04T07:59:00.000+10:00

The weather in Sydney was just gorgeous yesterday. Blue skies and plenty of sunshine. We were in shorts and t-shirts yesterday and the thought of going for a kayak was briefly entertained, albeit briefly.

So how did we spend this gorgeous day? We spent it battling noxious weeds. Well in all honesty I watched Nick battle the world's most noxious weed while I encouraged furiously from the sidelines. We only have one saw, one pair of secutears and my weapon of choice would have been a chain saw for the job we had at hand.

See recently the council notified us via mail that we had a Noxious Weed in our yard. We were then notified by our real estate agency that as the tenants our job was to remove it. Typical. We have the worst landlords ever.

Apparently as far as Noxious weeds go, this one was right up there on the scale. So we looked carefully around the yard with the Wanted Poster in our hands attempting to identify this small shrub with yellow flowers. And walked and scratched our heads. Where on earth had council seen the weed?

After consulting Google we realised that while best managed as a small shrub this weed had the ability to turn into the Hulk of Weeds and take over a huge space. The lightbulb went on and we realised immediately where the weed was in our yard.

In support of a better post I should have taken a photo of the weed to show you what it looked like. But let's just saw we thought we had a tree at the top of our property - a little like this

This huge monstrosity which totally obstructed our view of the house next door was a weed. A weed which Nick had to remove single handedly.

After many hours he looked like he had been in a fight, and lost, with a cat. He was scratched and itching all over. Remembering the good old days when people used to just 'burn off' in their backyard, he then began the massive task of hauling the weed down to the bottom of our property.

It took hours and while Nick did the above I worked on the remainder of our garden for our inspection this Wednesday.

And then under the weed monster we found a bathtub. Nick couldn't lift it, it was filled with putrid water and so on the top level of our yard sits an old filthy bath which people like to comment on as they walk past our property. Nick just comments that we are relocating our ensuite..

Noxious Weeds may be a problem but the real issue with this rental has been Noxious Tenants. Some of the things we have found while cleaning up this place have been incredible. When we dug the vegetable garden we found entire window frames with panels of glass. We also found a HUGE stash of plastic baby coat hangers. Previous tenants or perhaps the owners had discarded the old carpet by throwing rolls of it directly under the house along with an old water system, a hamster house, timber, plastic piping, some and random plates. In the laundry every time we use the sink small fish hooks come up out of the drain - who knows what they did in the sink.

So now we add a bath and the King of the Weeds to the list of items discovered

I hope you spent the weekend doing something more enjoyable.

Let's go fly a kite

2011-07-03T21:33:00.000+10:00

With all this wind around recently Raya asked me if we could go and fly her kite and it reminded me that I hadn't posted about her first experience flying a kite. She had a ball. I could hear her squeals of pure joy all the way up on my balcony.

Her Nanny got her out of the house and out from under my crutches when I was hobbling around not so long ago with my injured Achilles.

Seeing such a simple thing bring such delight to her reminded me of the joys of being a mum. You really do feel like your heart is walking around outside your own body.

What do your children enjoy that makes your heart sing?

Feel Like Dancing

2011-06-27T15:36:00.000+10:00

I am on the official countdown to school holidays now and I am looking forward to them so much it makes me feel like dancing - and everyone who knows me knows I don't dance! I can really do with these holidays. This term has been busy and all parents I know can attest to how many horrible germs have been going around for the kids.

I only have the hurdle of parent teacher interviews - and then it is a sprint to the finish line.

Both Raya and I feel like dancing at the thought because holidays for me also means days off daycare for her. I have no desire to send her because I enjoy having her home with me.

Are you looking forward to the school holidays? What is making you feel like dancing lately?

Threenagers

2011-06-21T22:07:00.000+10:00

I know this blog was meant to be about travel. But even though I am not blogging regularly about travel anymore, apart from weekend trips and our upcoming holiday to Fiji - I continue to blog because I love it.

So today my thoughts were about Threenagers - named such because they have an attitude resembling that of a teenager - or so I have heard. I haven't parented a teenager yet although some days I feel like I am.

Terrible Twos never really rocked our world but the Threenager years are in full swing. Of course it is all developmentally appropriate {this phrase has become my personal mantra} and it is often hilarious - but it is also frustrating.

Raya and I have had some hilarious moments of late - probably more hilarious for on lookers than for me.

But I do often need to bite my tongue because what makes it so funny is because she has taken phrases she has heard and modified them in her own way.

One little phrase she has picked up is "don't F#@$K out mummy'. Now she has heard the phrase 'freak out' from me and unfortunately she has also heard the F@#* word (not from me) and for maximum impact has combined the two. Whenever I am re telling Nick a story about work or we are stuck in traffic and I comment we are running late she will say "Oh mummy don't F@!#% out ok".

The other day we had a 'negotiation' in Woolworths. When I turned around from putting fruit in the basket she was putting hair dye in her shopping basket. Yes she insists on carrying her own basket. She was adamant she was having hair dye so that she could dye her hair like Dora. Her parting line to me "Well you just wait till I'm five mummy". Oh I can wait, don't you worry.

Raya also uses the phrase "bust your chops". The other morning Nick was asking Raya to come and clean her teeth. "Daddy you are just busting my chops. Stop busting my chops I'm watching ABC Kids on 2". Any guesses for how well this went down. Imagine my mortification when during her swimming lesson she informs her teacher "I said No, I'm going to bust your chops". If only the floor could have swallowed me whole.

Today we had another 'negotiation' about wearing tracksuit pants. Apparently goosebumps are not strong enough motivation to cover up those undies. I finally told her that I was the mummy and I was telling her to put her tracksuit pants. Honestly she almost scoffed at me. With hands on her hips she says "I'm the mummy, I have 10 babies you only have 1 baby". Really how can I argue with that. Then again her children are plastic so she won't be negotiating with them.

When I ask her to do something she says to me "If you say so, or if you want me to mummy". So we have compliance but a sassy compliance.

I know I am not alone with my Threenager. Please if you have a Threenager share your stories and we can all laugh together

Is that opinion or fact?

2011-06-07T15:15:00.000+10:00

Image found here

I heard the line 'opinions are like bums, everyone has one and most of them stink" and it stuck with me not only because it made me laugh on that day but because generally it is true!

In the parenting world people become almost compulsive about voicing their opinions. You can call it their apparent 'duty of care' and I will call it 'not able to mind their own business' and we can go our separate ways.

I know all about having a duty of care. It is my job to have a professional duty of care and carry it out. Apparently people feel that they have a 'duty of care' for strangers children as well.

As I had posted here not a duty of care concerning safety or teaching children positive habits. Perhaps a duty of care for annoying parents.

You see in the 'parenting world' there are many common peeves. For those of you who do not believe in the 'parenting world' your childless aren't you because otherwise you would not be disputing it is often an alternate reality. Not only for the people who end up being on the same planet as you but because you have some many "that did NOT just happen to me/us/my child in public" moments.

But back to the pet peeves. There are women who get upset about whether babies are breast or bottle fed. There are women who are peeved about cloth or disposable nappies.

My personal pet peeve is people who present their opinion as fact.

Until I had a child I was unaware that this was a desired criteria to be an Early Childhood Community Health Nurse - ooh that and being a bitch. But seriously I have never met one yet who didn't think they spoke the unfailing gospel truth.

I am happy to receive advice. I feel I know when to ask for it as well as how to sift through the information provided to me. I know also how to let things roll straight off my back or go in one ear, cause me to laugh and go straight back out the other.

But as Aurelia is now a preschooler I have the time and energy to respond to people who would like to present their opinion as fact in an unsolicited manner.

Yesterday I went into the pharmacist for medicine for Aurelia. In some pharmacies it is in the aisles, at others behind the counter. It is a non prescription medication which were were told to give her by her paediatrician and a medicine that we spent $500 in doctors bills before we worked out needed to be used.

So I went into a pharmacist and was served by a young girl.I asked for the medication and she informed me

"We keep it behind the shelves because we shouldn't be selling it".

"I'm sorry, pardon" I responded. Her reaction made me think that perhaps I had slipped and requested opiates for my daughter.

"We have it behind the counter because we shouldn't be selling it" she restated with a flick of her pony tail.

"And why would that be?" I questioned her thinking perhaps it was close to an expiry date or what have you.

"Children shouldn't be taking this" she stated.

"This is the Junior version, it's made for children" I informed her.

"Well children shouldn't need it".

This conversation was only continuing because she was still holding the box in her hand.

My tongue paused and my mind debated which fork in the road the conversation would take.

"and really what should children with this condition do".

And off she went. I could have pulled up a chair and taken as seat while she sprouted the biggest load of garbage I had heard in some time.

When she finished I calmly said "Is that a fact or just your opinion". She looked at me 'Ummm...". Now suddenly she is lost for words.

'It's not a fact. It's just.your.opinion. I prefer my paediatricians facts to your opinions. Thanks"

and I grabbed the medication and we walked before I told her where she could shove her opinion.

I have shared this story with friends and we've all rolled our eyes but it is something which happens so frequently.

Yes I could dismiss her opinion but what if I was unsure of myself, hormonal, a new sleep deprived mum? What if because she was at a place where medicines were dispensed, thinking her to be sharing fact, I didn't give the medicine to my daughter and she ended up in pain and in hospital.

This blog is my opinion but here is a fact: If you are a stranger we will ask if we want your opinion. Fact 2: If your opinion is exactly that, an opinion then clearly STATE this when asked.Fact 3 Keep your opinions to yourself or get a blog!

Yasawa Islands I'll see you in September

2011-06-06T09:44:00.001+10:00

Report writing time can stir up procrastination like nothing else. Facebook status updates of recent weeks have been filled with reports of teachers cleaning their houses, baking and playing Angry Birds Apps. While all of those things are worthy procrastination activities my preferred method of procrastination is travel planning.

However this procrastination was slightly more purposeful because I was planning our next overseas adventure. About time to shake ourselves out of this home bound rut. Dust off our passports and start checking baggage again. Brace yourself Amex card.

For the first time ever I have applied for long service leave and since I had to work hard to earn it, I figured it had best be well spent.

So let's take a seaplane to get their quickly

I will take a nice bed

and I would like my bed closely located to the beach.

I'll take my shower outdoors under the stars thanks

And somewhere to sit and relax when I am tired of our hammock.

Since I can't scuba dive being asthmatic I will settle for some awesome snorkelling

and then a cocktail and a sunset sounds like the perfect finish.

Throw into the close mix family who also happen to be friends and a wedding at the end of our stay in Fiji and September is looking pretty good to me.

As for now my reports are all done and we are counting down to some serious fun in the sun.

Like what you see? Well check out this link to where we are staying in the Yasawa Islands Blue Lagoon Resort

We'll be reviewing it for other parents who are looking for the non-kids club experience on our return.

Until then are you planning any family adventures away?

Meet Me Monday

2011-05-23T21:59:00.000+10:00

So I have just started participating in Meet me Monday from Keeping Up with Lucy. Here are today's questions - would love to hear your answers in the comments section

. What is your favorite bagel flavor?

I love the poppy seed bagels we get here. The ones I ate in NYC I didn't discriminate - I loved all flavours equally!2. If you had an extra $100 right now, what would you spend it on?
A massage - I would love a massage or something at a day spa

3. What is the last thing that you felt guilt about doing?
Going to my sisters for a girly night. Miss A is being very clingy and was just so upset when I was leaving. It really made me feel terrible to see her get so upset and I felt guilty for wanting some me time.

4. Soft serve ice cream or hand dipped?

Without question hand dipped - soft serve doesn't even really count as ice cream does it?

5. Are you allergic to anything?
How I WISH my answer to this was no. I have anaphylaxsis to onion, chives, shallots, capers and rockmelon. If I were allergic to garlic as well I may have to kill myself!!

Hanging with my gnomies

2011-05-19T13:19:00.000+10:00

So we have been hanging out with our gnomies in the garden.

After prepping our patch - see the last post - we headed off to Bunnings to purchase our plants. There are heaps of worms under the mulch which we are taking as a good sign.

We were going to try companion planting using Marigolds to keep the pests away. We chose two different types of spinach, two different kinds of lettuce, bok choy, carrots, beetroots, thyme and garlic. We also have some perennial basil growing all being guarded by our family gnome.

We do plan to pop in some tomatoes in June, apparently it is too early yet and use the old gate as a frame to support the tomatoes. Our compost is cooking along nicely as well.

And so far the growing vegetables has captured Aurelia's interest. The other night she gobbled up fresh basil leaves which she had picked herself. Fingers crossed this continues. We have also had some cos lettuce eaten but unfortunately not by us. Raya is convinced it is the Flopsy Bunnies (she loves that book).

If I see a little Peter Rabbit it has better watch out - in the mean time we need to get our lettuce some chicken wire.

Do you grow vegetables at your house? Have you gone to great lengths to get your kids to eat veges?

I have a dream

2011-05-18T06:45:00.000+10:00

I had a dream. A dream that I would have a child who would be a healthy eater.

The dream began well. As a small child she took to solids with gusto with her first food being avocado. She was chomping on steamed veges early and apart from an allergy to organge coloured vegies and avoiding carrots, pumpkin and sweet potato - which she grew out of - we were going great guns.

We limited sugar exposure and kept her away from processed foods and chocolate where possible.

Then we started travelling. Again we were keeping the dream alive. Until we went to Spain.

Spain - not only the land of Gaudi, the Camino, tapas and Sangria. Spain - the land of Spanish grandmas who love nothing more than to ply cute children up to the eye ball with sugary treats. Everywhere we went sugar was included -even the bread was sweet.

Spain - a dentists paradise.

From that point on we saw our daughter develop a sweet tooth irrespective of how hard we tried to limit the sugary treats.

Fast forward through the hideous 'white stage' which we hear is common - white, plain pasta, white milk, white rice and white meat - as plain as possible. While we internally shuddered - white bread gets the huge thumbs down in our house - Raya seemed to exist some days on bread and water alone while still managing to outgrow all her clothes.

Till we reach the present day where our 3 year old child seems almost allergic to healthy fruit and vegetables. In the battle for healthy eating it is child 1 vs parents 0.

Prior to children I believed that children only eat what you give them - which is true, to a point. See my daughter can move a chair and reach tall cupboards and can also undo tin cans with a ring pull, open bottles in the fridge and work her way through packets of rice cakes while I am in the shower if she is feely particularly speedy.

We have done the talk about 'soemtimes foods' and 'always foods' except she feels the always heading belongs on the sometimes foods. She has a serious carbohydrate addiction!

And what I didn't realise in my naively blissful, opinion forming, pre child existence is how damn persistent they can be. A preschooler can whinge down or stubbornly out last even a determined resolve. They can also use their weak spot radar and when identified push that button to their full advantage. Mine is the car trip. The screaming and whinging is enough to make me drive my car straight off the road in the National Park straight into a tree!!!

So inspired by recent articles on 'slow food' and Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution (still seriously uninspired by his so called 30 minute meals - yeah right - the layout of the recipes takes 30 mins alone) we decided to reclaim our parental dream.

We have a dream that our daughter will eat fruit and vegetables and in pursuit of that dream we planted a vegetable garden.

Okay now just on the off chance that my hubby reads this blog post - we shared the dream and then he implemented it while I stood as site supervisor.

So here is what we began with

We are renting our current property. This is to the side of one of the terrace levels in our steep front yard. We believe it was the site for an old house at one point. It has stone foundations the entire way around which means that our vegetables should be sheltered while growing. Digging this baby up was no fun (for Nick lol). It was like an archeological dig as we discovered what 18 years worth of tenants had been throwing in there. Some of the things we found were glass window panes and a huge amount of baby sized coat hangers. Weird ?

But at the end of the first stage it looked like this

We cleared all the rubbish and bought a HUGE composting bin. After this photo we went to Bunnings and a gnome, I mean woman, helped us out with sugar cane mulch, soil, manure etc basically all the stuff we need to prep our little patch. So we prepped and waited for 2 weeks till we could plant. We kept the middle as a garden path for us to walk along.

Finally we were ready to plant our vegetables and I will be back with the Vege Patch Part 2 to share how that went!

Still believing in our dream for a vege eating child

If it takes a village to raise a child why is my coffee going cold?

2011-05-15T09:04:00.000+10:00

Hillary Clinton used the expression "It takes a village to raise a child" and while travelling we found this attitude to be true in many cultures. Raya was sung to in a myriad of different languages. She was briefly babysat by greek nonnas, had a camino grandpa, cuddled by Brazilian friends and Spanish friends alike. She was read stories in both Danish and German, had proscuitto for the first time with Italian friends on a train. She learnt how to drink out of a coconut by a Malaysian dad and was smiled at, encouraged, laughed at and on several occasions pointed in the correct direction, or kept out of trouble by people of all different nationalities including gypsies.

While travelling we embraced these opportunities and felt that Raya benefited from the well meaning, diverse attention. Being a long way from home it was nice to see that the world over people were generally caring for the well being of other children, not only those raised within their own nests.

But now back at home I find myself in situations which make me wonder about this concept. Rather than people viewing our children as the next generation and willing to help out if the situation arises people seem to prefer to sit back. This is particularly the case regarding behaviour and safety.

I was discussing two recent events with my hubby and questioning whether my willingness to step in and become involved was because a) I appreciate it when others do - within reason b) I can't flick off the teacher switch c) because I believe to some extent we all have a duty of care to children or d) all of the above.

Hubby argued that this 'takes a village to raise a child' analogy is nothing new and that things were different when we were growing up. I argued that we are both getting old if we are finding ourselves using that phrase but, I have to agree. I feel that hubby has a point.

These were the two incidents I observed and I would love to hear your thoughts.

Event A
During the holidays I took Miss A to Taronga Zoo. Oh I love that place and the new renovations are such an improvement- but that's another post! We went off to the zoo and it was late in the day following a toilet stop. We were in an outside cafe area perched on a brick wall as every table and chair were full. While Raya had a snack and I refueled with caffeine, we were seated next to three children who appeared to be 11, 9 and 7 - or close enough using my teacher judgement.

As we sat eating I gathered they were waiting for their mum to come out of the women's toilets. The first and eldest boy finished off his packet of chips and his can of drink and then chucked them in the garden where we were sitting. I will mention now that against the wall of the women's toilet, less than 5 steps away was a bin.

I looked at this boy waiting to catch his eye and while I did I noticed the number of elderly zoo patrons (possibly on a tour activity due to the large number of senior citizens in one gathering) who simply tut tutted and shook their heads.

The other children then finished their food (mum was taking ages in the bathroom) and the youngest one jumped off the wall looking like he was taking it to the bin. The older one says "X just chuck it here" and the other two children happy as larry chucked their rubbish in the garden.

"Excuse me" I say,interrupting my coffee inhalation, and the eldest child looks at me. "That's your rubbish there". I wasn't angry or rude with the child but I do find that kids have finely tuned teacher radars that can detect the tone a mile off.

"That's not my rubbish" the kid lied.

"That is YOUR rubbish there. It goes in the BIN" (capital for emphasis not shouting)

Looking at me, and frankly appearing quite taken back he turned around and scooped up all the rubbish out of the garden and with 3-4 steps popped it into the bin.

Just then of course mum comes out of the toilets. The kid made some comment to his mum.

Raya was having her drink and the mum agressively yells "Were you talking to my kid?"

Whoa I thought. I smiled and said "Yes I was just reminding your son that his rubbish went in the bin and not the garden"

His mum then said "Oh for f^&% sake, get f@#$d" to me before she walked off with her littering children in tow.

I don't feel that reminding a child to pick up their rubbish warrants that kind of response. I am certain that as a child had I thrown rubbish around someone would have told me to pick it up. Yet I noticed that at the zoo other's were happy to tut tut and complain but not comment. Had it been Raya I probably would have said "That lady is right Raya, you know where your rubbish goes, thanks" but then again perhaps she was exhausted from trying to wiggle three children a viewing spot at the elephant show - heaven knows just making sure my one child could see was tricky enough.

The second incident was at my local shopping centre. Raya and I were eating a sandwich at a table in the food court - well actually I was eating and Raya was up and down, up and down annoyingly demonstrating to me her best dancing moves between every.single.bite. But enough of my three year old's obsession with dancing. I saw as you do when you are mindlessly people watching a mum with three children at a near table - two older kids and a little one who looked about 18 months - sippy cup in hand and a wobbly toddle walk.

Mum only turned her back for 2 seconds to speak to the other two and the little boy waddled straight for the escalators. He walked past 4 tables at least as people, both young and old looked on at this little boy who was headed straight towards the down escalators. Not a single person moved to stop this little boy. By now I had jumped out of my seat but so had a mum who was closer who had launched out of her seat and grabbed his little hand just as he went to step onto the escalators.

It seemed like a long time but in reality this played out in a matter of seconds. The mum was mortified at what had happened and thanked the mum profusely looking dreadfully embarrassed. But I was mortified by what happened next. A couple who looked in their late thirties or early forties, who had let the boy walk straight past them, emptied their tray and then said to the mum "don't have three kids if you can't keep an eye on all of them".

That poor mum and that rude couple. I wanted to give them a peace of my mind. They couldn't bring themselves to keep a child safe but they could exert the energy to rebuke the mother.

Where is the village vibe here? The only thing that reminded me of the village was the rude couple's attempt to emotionally publicly flog the mother.

Is it that we are so concerned about not being judgmental or accepting of differing parenting techniques that we are being silenced? I am not encouraging anyone to go and smack other people's kids in shopping centres but reminding kids to be safe I am encouraging.

I see it at the playground as well. If we had a little more village vibe happening then perhaps we would have less helicopter parenting.

It amuses me that at the local park there can be on occasion eight women all hovering over their children while their coffees go cold. I often wonder why at least half of those women can't sit down and trust that the other mum's will have the common sense to remind their darling Jimmy that going down the slippery dip, backwards head first is not a great idea or will dust Sarah off if she has a tumble from the swings. But they all stand there and let their coffee get cold because when Sarah does fall off, and one child always does, no one steps in to help. The other women look sorry for the child but the little one either dries their own tears or sits and waits till supermum rescues them. None of these women seem horrible but there is a clear 'watch your own child' vibe happening.

Mother's rather than being defensive I feel should be open to others lending some support. I am not referring to the comments of "I would never have let my child dress like that" when your child was determined to go to Westfields dressed as Upsy Daisy and you didn't have it in you for a fight. No I mean the general, well meaning support. If another mum smiles at you, smile back. Trust me it is the "been there done that smile' they are sharing - not a 'smug mummy' smile. After all none of us can wear our supermum capes all the time.

If kids were getting the message from not only their parents but community members it may add some credence to what their parents are saying.

Do you think it takes a village to raise a child? How can we get more of the village vibe happening?

The blog was buried

2011-05-11T21:44:00.000+10:00

Well there haven't been too many blog posts as late because my blog has been drowning in Spam. I had a few followers comment about the commenting process. So I attempted to change it. Commenting became a lot easier but so did sending hundreds of blog posts information regarding pharmaecutical products.

All the posts I had scheduled to post about Easter, Mothers Day and Turkey were passed by for the time it has taken to restore my blog to 'ready to print' mode.

Very, very frustrating

But it's finally under control now and no I do not require any Viagra thank you!!

Welcome to Turkey

2011-04-20T17:02:00.000+10:00

Our flight touched down at Sabiha Gokcen airport in Turkey late afternoon. There are actually two airports which service the city of Istanbul, with the other airport being Ataturk International Airport. We flew into Saboha Gocken because this newer airport (which is named after a female Turkish combat pilot) is serviced by the budget airlines and we were flying Easy Jet. This airport is further from the city but the cost saved by flying a budget airline was still significant factoring in transfers which can be negotiated at the airport for a cheaper rate.

We claimed our luggage and headed off to apply for our Turkish Visa. We had thought that being able to pay for a VISA at the time of entry would be easy and hassle free - but we were mistaken.

We had ready through the travel forums, Lonely Planet books and blogs prior to arriving just to ensure we could in fact purchase our Visa's on arrival. There was no problem for Aussies.

So when we arrived at the counter we were expecting the usual "your baby has so many passport stamps" jokes and we would be on our way.

Instead we met an older man who asked us for our visa fee (which was about $20 Aussie dollars) in Turkish Lira. Appeared they were strictly CASH ONLY. Oh no!!

We passed through our VISA credit card.

No luck.

We showed our AMEX.

No they weren't accepting this either. They wanted the EXACT money in Turkish Lira.

Prior to this point we had been very excited that Turkey was not yet operating on the Euro (although it is now) and we were laughing at the improved exchange rate having been living in London. Now we weren't laughing.

You see we had Euro in our wallets, we still had some swiss francs and we had pounds. I even had some US dollars (we were keeping some examples of smaller notes for our nephews) but Lira - none at all.

Straight past the VISA desk we could see an ATM. We asked if Nick could walk there, with security, with me remaining behind to get Lira out.

No.

We emptied out our wallets and showed that we had NO lira and would not be able to pay for our Visa. We didn't even have the option to move from this section of the airport to take a flight elsewhere. There was also no language barrier - he understood perfectly what we were saying.

And so we sat on the floor. We had tried to negotiate for at least 30 minutes without any luck.There wasn't anything else we could do. I was really upset, Raya was happy but she wouldn't be for long. It was just ridiculous!!

Not long after a group of backpackers rocked up to the counter. Two american guys and a canadian girl. The man at the counter called us over

"You ask your friend" he shouted at us.

We tried to explain that we didn't know these people. The Turkish guy said "You speak English, he speaks English - he gives you money".

The american guy with dreads says "dude I don't know these people, I don't know these other people either, I'm by myself".

"No you pay for friends" the Turkish guy instructed.

We speedily explained the situation to the american 'dude'. He had cash on him, thankfully a large amount of Lira, but only because his mate who was already in Turkey had the same thing happen to him.

Thankfully he paid for himself, Nick, myself, Raya and the other American backpacker.

The girl went to pay her $20 and was told "No you Canadian you pay $60".

She argued and we told her to not bother and just pay. She kept asking why and the man laughingly told her "Turkish don't like Canada" which made all of us - except her - laugh.

Once money had exchanged hands we were allowed to go and he happily farewelled us. We had been waiting at the desk for over an hour by the time our ordeal was over. Still these things become the travel stories - hence my blogging about it!

We went straight to the ATM and got cash out for our friendly american backpacker. Since we were all on friendly, money sharing turns now we grouped together and did what any group of backpackers do - bargained seriously between transport companies for an incredibly cheap group discount for our transfer into Istanbul. The Turkish tour operators didn't know what had hit them we were a force to be reckoned with and we negotiated them down to 25% of their initial price.

We were hoping that the rest of our Turkish experience was going to be a little more straight forward.

The final destination

2011-04-20T09:55:00.000+10:00

So I have made it to blogging about the final destination. Finally

Turkey - the final leg on our overseas adventure and what a gorgeous way to farewell overseas travel. Everyone asks me where I would love to return to if I could. Apart from NYC - who can get enough of that place? - my answer is Turkey.

We were hesitant to go to Turkey but I really wanted to see Anzac Cove, I think most Aussies who are travelling do. However we had heard mixed stories about Turkey which had us wondering whether we were up for such a cultural difference at the end of a full on five weeks of non stop travel.

But we like to go off with a bang so we decided on Turkey and shelved Egypt for a later date.

On hindsight this was one of the best decisions on our trip. The worst - staying in a cupboard in Singapore - but we've already covered that ground.

We managed to score a really cheap flight from Switzerland because we discovered that outside of Turkey itself the largest Turkish community lives in Switzerland. Worked out perfectly for us as we caught a train out of the Lake Como district of Italy straight into Geneva.

We only stayed overnight in Basel Switzerland {at the coolest hostel} but I had already been to Switzerland before and we were on a budget which was not really compatible with Swiss tourism.

So off we went to Turkey.

Here are just a few points for would be travellers

1.Istanbul is not the capital of Turkey. We heard a few discussions about this with people saying they had visited the capital. Ankara is the capital. End of discussion.

2. Turkey is a HUGE country. It is not costly to travel around but it takes TIME. You need at least 3 weeks to see enough of the country and that would be moving at a quick pace. It is not a country like France or Germany which is easy to get around. Factor this into your plans

3. Turkish do air or bus travel. There is a rail system but it was created by Germans and they charged per kilometre to the Turkish government. Hence the Turkish railway system winds through the country and is not direct or quick. Bus trips are long - think 10 hours to some places. Car hire is available - just allow time.

4. Turkey is the friendliest place we visited. The genuine hospitality we found overwhelming. I think it made a huge difference to be travelling with a small child and having read up on local customs. We learnt from our embarassment in Bratislavia, and knowing local customs made a difference.

5. I felt TOTALLY safe in Turkey. I actually felt more unsafe in the UK.

6. Istanbul uses trams for travel just like Melbourne and I dislike trams as much as I do here in Melbourne.

7. Istanbul has some of the most breathtaking architecture I have ever laid my eyes on

8. Turkish food was AMAZING and Turkish icecream is chewy - weird I know but it is to stop it melting in the heat.

9. You will get used to the calls for prayer but I still suggest you take ear plugs.

I would recommend Turkey highly to anyone and hopefully our short stay will show Turkey for the wonderful place we found it to be

Your girlfriends make up purse - in no way travel related.

2011-04-18T22:26:00.000+10:00

I used to really love getting ready to go out with the girls because it gave me a chance to peek inside other people's make up bags and see what little gems they had found and tucked away.

I could still check out the products people use but that would mean a secret rummage through the bathroom cabinet while on a toilet stop and that's just weird. Anyway now a days that doesn't happen very often only because most of my friends have kids and getting together to hit the town and check out each others make up bags doesn't seem to happen. Some days I am lucky to check my own make up bag.We are more likely to be discussing the best childcare centre, dance classes or toilet training step/stool.

Anyway today being on holidays I found myself wandering through Priceline and picking up a few bits and pieces, none budget breaking, which I had read about on other people's blogs. Yes it seems that my friends blogs have in fact become their virtual make up bag.

I personally don't mind the occasional sponsored blog post, and don't despair if you don't like them - we have no sponsors on this blog so ain't going to happen here, and I love a personal recommendation.

So here is a collection of a few newbies I picked up and thought I would try. This one I stole from Amy's make up purse. She's a scientist and always looks gorgeous in photos so figured she knew what she was talking about. Ooh and it seems like it has won a few rewards and it is natural - bonus

I also found this product and secretly hoped that I might be able to use this and have more sleep ins on week days. Shameful I know but soon it is going to be really dark and cold in the morning. Yep I have never used dry shampoo but soon that will be a thing of the past. Anyone else love this?

Then I went on and picked up this. Admittedly I was skeptical because if this does everything it claims to then why do they sell other products like base coats and top coats separately? But I have the saddest fingernails ever so, fingers crossed!

Then my mum shouted me this which won the 2010 Beauty Award for Mineral Makeup. This is my first venture into mineral makeup having been a liquid foundation kind of girl previously.

So now I had best go and try out my new products.

Hope you enjoyed this quick peek into my virtual make up bag.

Now let us see inside your virtual make up bag!

Meet Me Monday

2011-04-18T17:15:00.000+10:00

Hello Monday

I follow a great blog Keeping Up with Lucy and have decided to play along with her Meet me Monday game. Would love you to follow along as well. Just give your answers for the questions below

Questions:

1. Caesar Salad or Garden Salad?

I really like a Caesar salad.

2. Will you be watching the Royal Wedding on April 29th?

No I'm not really interested to be honest. Sure I will check out her dress but apart from that the Royal family doesn't really do anything for me.3. Last thing you spent lots of money on?

I just bought a pair of gorgeous witchery shoes today but they were 30% off so that makes the price a little better, the leather is gorgeous and there are bows on the toes

Check them out here4. Window seat or aisle seat?

I am all about the aisle seat. I like being able to stick my legs out in the aisle once the flight is underway. I feel claustraphobic stuck against the window.

5. Do you know your blood type? Yep I am 0 positive - very common.

Blog has a facelift before it goes to print

2011-04-12T23:13:00.000+10:00

I just couldn't stand the stripes anymore. They were seriously doing my eyes in. So from the humble beginnings of a navy background and white text - we have another new background.

I really like this one and I suspect this will be the background that the blog goes to print with.

That's right- this blog is going to be bound and printed.

It was always the intention to create something that would serve as a keepsake. Life got in the way a little with posting but I am about to do the final posts on Turkey and then the blog will be done and dusted.

I really love blogging.

Whether I will continue with this blog or start a new one I am undecided. I think I love the history that this blog has and since travel will ALWAYS be part of our lives (our next international holiday is already booked) perhaps we will just keep going.

I will let you all know when I decide.

But for now a change from those 'look at me' stripes. What do you think?

The Value in Remembering

2011-04-12T22:10:00.000+10:00

Last week I was a little saddened by an experience I had so I thought I would share in a hope of garnering other people's opinions.

On the last day of the school term we had our ANZAC commemoration assembly at school. These school holidays are slightly longer because ANZAC day and the associated public holiday fall at the end, so schools commemorated ANZAC day early.

In the pursuit of sharing the facts about ANZAC day in a way that the students I work with could understand I went looking for a child's picture book for ANZAC day. I knew there were some wonderful books on the market so thought that my mission would be easily accomplished.

The first shopping centre I visited now only has one bookstore because according to the manager of the only remaining bookstore they "don't have enough business". To me this was just so sad but not surprising to me as I teach in this local area and know only to well the drama of encouraging parents to value reading at home.

I explained what I was looking for to the first sales assistant and their response "Sorry what are you looking for?". I repeated my request and the sales assistant "No one has asked for an ANZAC book before". Thankfully the manager rescued me but informed me that they don't stock any because there is no demand - but he could sell me a book about Waltzing Matilda - he had plenty of those sitting on the shelves. No demand?

I visited the Westfield closer to where I lived and on Thursday evening i visited 5 places that sold books {7 if I include the previous store and major department store} before I found a store which had an extensive range of books for ANZAC day not only on WWI but also Vietnam, Kokoda and generally rememberance.

Now to give the 5 other places credit they all knew what ANZAC day was but they all told me they don't stock the books, they only order them in on request.

I find this shocking. Yes we are in an increasingly technological world where a lot of illustrated books have been substituted in the life of children for multi modal texts but to have to hunt so extensively for a book on the first war Australian soldiers participated in should not be so difficult. One shop assistant told me we shouldn't be teaching kids about war. It is the looking back at war and the lessons learnt in peace time that helps us remain in a state of peace.

Remberance is not glamourising war. There are important values which need to be taught as a matter of course to the next generation regardless of the fact that we no longer have any ANZAC diggers from the 25th April landing alive.

Do we want our kids to only know about ANZAC day as "yeah like the biscuits"?

When we visited Turkey we went to Anzac Cove. It was a moving experience to see the graves on the beach cemetery and see the ages carved into the headstones. The casualties were huge for the Aussies in relation to the other nations.

To walk through what remains of the trenches and to see how close they were to the Turkish trenches was moving. Perhaps it is because I have stood in the same place our soldiers stood and read the names on the headstones and seen the volume of names at Lone Pine.

The kids in my class (I teach special ed) really understood when they saw the Turkish graves. There were losses on both sides and the fact that Australia and Turkey are friendly now in the world's political climate is also an important lesson for kids.

But I doubt being this is the reason this is important to me. I think it is because my dad instilled in me the importance of taking time to be thankful for the country we are living in. Our generation has been spared conscription and we are blessed for that. I can remember waking up really early and shivering at the dawn services. Now as an adult I appreciate him taking the time to teach me values.

I know I am not alone. Regardless of the books being hard to find in bookstores, I know other people value rememberance. Each year as fewer diggers remain more families line the streets in the city to show their respect to those who made life changing sacrifices for this country.

I want to teach my daughter and my kids at work that it is more than biscuits, a public holiday and a sleep in.

I want our daughter to understand the value of rememberance.

Lest we Forget

$111 to look at fish

2011-04-04T08:54:00.000+10:00

This weekend we snatched up our niece and one of our nephews (we can't fit any more children in our car) and stole them away for a day of cousin fun {which also gave their sick mum a break}.

We have found in divorce not only is it the parents who miss out on time with the kids but the extended family as well. So we were really looking forward to spending a fun filled day together.

In the lead up hubby and I planned out what we thought would be a fun day for a 3, 5 and 7 year old.

Since the 7 year old knows more about sharks then ANY other person I know we thought perhaps a visit to the aquarium. When I added the cost of tickets it was going to be $111 or so dollars for our visit. Ouch! Our budget has already been hit with physio, it needs it's own physio, so we looked at another option.

We considered Under the Sea being shown at the IMAX - $85.00. Gee having three kids makes things pricey as aparently a 'FAMILY' ticket anywhere only allows for 2 children - must be the 'Dick Smith' family. If this made you go what? then read here.

There had to be something 'different' in the city which would cater for these lingering storm clouds.

I found 10 outings for $10 on the TimeOut Sydney website and the ideas were hard to choose between.

Our next one will be unlimited ride on Coney Island for $10!

But this weekend we decided to head to the Powerhouse Museum. For all five of us to go it only cost us $25 and for the price of the Aquarium we could buy a family pass to the Powerhouse for a year.Children under the age of 4 are FREE even better.

Now I have taken many school excursions to the Powerhouse but since my last visit the museum has really stepped it up a notch.

There is a wonderful kids link Play at the Powerhouse with all the information you need.

The kids all loved Zoe's House the best which is set up like a real construction site. All the kids wear safety vests and can build the house, use a crane and conveyor belt - it is fantastic.

For the kids interested in space - all three of our were they can check out the Space part of the Transport exhibit and have a go in the Zero Gravity Space Lab and experience the illusion of weightlessness - this was a HUGE hit.

The Tinytoreum allowed the kids to sit, draw, colour and have some quieter time as well as look at lots of miniature items - the dolls house was a huge hit as was the toothpick model of The Sydney Harbour Bridge.

The kids also loved the Healthy Garden with it's holographic fish pond and ability to become part of the computer game. The outdoor play area designed for 4-15 year olds (hubby you are not 15 anymore) got a serious work out and all declared the Powerhouse has the best see-saw EVER.

It was a super day out for a super cheap price. Perfect for a little adventure in the school holidays for other Sydneysiders.

Point and Shoot - Cookie Memories

2011-03-28T10:49:00.000+11:00

This weekend I was still hobbling around due to my injured Achilles Tendon. Raya has been such a good girl and coped well while being bored out of her brain. She has had to miss daycare and swimming because I can't drive.

Combine cabin fever with the horrible Sydney weather, a husband in the early stages of man flu and Grand Prix and Aurelia and I hightailed it to the kitchen for some respite.

Now those who know me will know I rarely ever use my name and the word 'kitchen' in the same sentence but being frustrated by my general uselessness while injured I have been endeavouring to find my cooking mojo.

When I was little my nana, amongst millions of other recipes, cooked the BEST EVER cornflake cookies with cherries. I was determined to find this recipe and cook them with Aurelia, passing down the tradition.

I saw lots of recipes but they weren't quite right until I saw a post on a blog about a 70s cornflake recipe.

BINGO I knew I had hit the cornflake cookie jackpot.

I already had all the ingredients in the pantry and we were whipping up a batch in no time. Raya is such a little chef reminding me to "melt the butter", "beat it it we don't want lumps mummy" and she even knows when something is creamed by the colour changing.

Cookies that only take 10 minutes in the oven are even more appealing so we were able to gobble these up in no time.

They were a HUGE success and tasted EXACTLY like my nana used to make - she would be so proud.

Smell and taste help form memories and these cookies took me right back as well as making new memories for Raya.

I may have to hang out in the kitchen a little more

Monday Morning

2011-03-28T09:57:00.001+11:00

We seem to love kicking off Monday in our house.

Today we kicked off the week with powder and a teaspoon and a pair of flower girl shoes. Here are the steps for starting Monday Morning according to my daughter.

1. Take on independent little girl who likes to do things herself.

2. Add a Dorothy the Dinosaur movie with Irish Dancing which sends daughter into a frantic panic looking for exact same shoes.

3. Discover flowergirl shoes from 6 months ago in box at back of the wardrobe.

4. Pull, squeeze and desperately try to squeeze size 11 feet into size 9 shoes.

5. Remember that mummy sometimes puts a TINY bit of powder into shoes and inside the swimming cap.

6. Put powder into shoes and then try to squeeze foot in.

7. Foot still doesn't fit so SQUEEZE MORE powder.

Repeat steps 6 and 7 over and over.

8. Run into kitchen and grab a teaspoon (apparently Nanny used one ?)

9. Explain to mummy why powder is on the lounge and shoes are FULL of powder.

In the end she did manage to cram her toes into the shoes and my loungeroom smells like baby talc.

Happy Monday

Camp Next to a Bogan

2011-03-25T18:22:00.000+11:00

So you find yourself camping in a location without mobile reception or internet access. You're not particularly keen on board games or card games? My best camping tip is camp next to a bogan.

Now before you get all politically correct it is perfectly fine to call the people next to us bogans because I am the woman shrieking about only having one pair of undies. To them I am probably the dirty, camping bogan.

We managed to camp next to a family of bogans. A dad with two grown sons and their friend plus a dog. Bogans who had been camping here for years.

At this particular hill-billy camping spot we were driven to our camping location so we had no option. Still it could have been worse. We could have been camped next to the bogan family who was across the river from us.

They were the bogan feral family whose cries of " Just stop him" and "oh he's p!ssing on the campfire AGAIN" could be heard wide and far as they tried to corral their children.

Our particularly entertaining bogan story came on the afternoon of the second day. We had spent a relaxing morning feeding the ducks. The bogans next to us had drunk beer for breakfast as they fried their freshly caught fish. Raya was fascinated watching them prepare the fish for cooking.

So after beer for breakfast they continued drinking throughout the day. Not enough to be rowdy and drunk but consistently.

We were just coming out from a swim when we noticed the car was moving. We found out later that one of the young adults had got in the car to move it to block the breeze.

Our attention was caught when we heard "stop, stop, f@#n STOP" to which the car continued to reverse backwards. We instinctively grabbed hold of Raya, this was not going to end well. Both of our tents were erected on the edge of the flat grass with a steep bank incline down to the river bank.

"F#&n STOP you IDIOT" to which the car then reversed at greater speed directly over the top of the young guys tent. Nick and I burst into laughter as the metal poles crunched under the tyres.

"You f!$#%n ran over our tent. I CAN'T BELIEVE you just ran over our tent". At this stage the dad started yelling "Put it in drive you're in reverse!! You're going to go down the embankment". I think three simple words like GET OUT NOW would have worked better.

The bogan boys were yelling "drive, drive off the tent" combined with "you're f#*!n sleeping in that tent now".

The car continued to reverse and my pelvic floor strength was tested. I honestly thought he was going to send their car flying down to the river. At this point, I watched through the tears streaming down my face as the dad yanked open the car driver door.

"Get the F#@k out. Get out NOW" he yelled just as the boys yelled "GO, GO, GO".

The poor drunk, confused bogan then put the car into drive, floored the accelerator almost knocking his dad down, narrowly missed their camp fire and ran straight over the top of the OTHER tent in the camp.

The dad and two other guys erupted. Blood was going to be spilt and I was honestly going to wet my pants.One of the other young guys jumped into the passenger seat and yanked on the handbrake while the father dragged the driving bogan out. All we could hear was the bogan driver saying "I was trying to go forward" while his dad said through gritted teeth "well you can't go forward when you're driving in F#@n reverse".

Both tents were crumpled silver piles on the ground and Nick and I were in hysterics

Even more so when at 2am the next morning I felt the first drops of rain come through the fly of our tent and the silence was broken with cries of "I'm going to F%^#n KILL YOU".

Nothing like camping next to bogans

So do you camp? Camping Escapades - Part 1

2011-03-25T13:32:00.001+11:00

The song lyrics say “people never change, they just remain the same” however I have a confession to make. I am now a camper…almost.

Okay so I am not totally on board with the camping. I would say about ¾’s of me or even 80 % of my Aquarian nature is totally down with camping. And well let’s just say the remaining 20 % is clinging with tooth and nail to the mod cons and luxuries of home or resort holidaying. Anyone who knew me growing up will remember me declaring I would never holiday where you can't plug in your hairdryer. Aah the things you do for love.

I was spared from camping as a child by our family holidaying in the family holiday house in the same spot each year. My husband on the other hand camped several times with his family and recalls playing a card game where the cards were made from bush leaves. Can you see we were approaching the holiday style from differing ends of the spectrum?

Basically I had no warm and fuzzy childhood memories attached to camping. Going prawning, another thing altogether. But back to camping.

I really only had my Year 12 camping expedition for experience. Total and absolute hell. We had to pitched our tent in the dark and of course we pitched ours over a wombat hole, it rained and we had our tampons and toilet paper rationed to us by the male hiking instructor. Let’s just say that Outward Bound adventures and I are cut from a different cloth.

Yet when we were OS we camped in Greece and I loved it. Sure I would have loved a Leading Hotel of the World more but by choosing camping we spent 8, that’s right 8 glorious weeks chilling out in the Greek Islands. Pure backpacking bliss. We spent 12 nights in Santorini while most people spend 2-4 nights.

Milos Camping

In Europe I discovered camping is not a poor persons alternative to a hotel room, camping is a serious addiction and some of the resorts were five star with infinity pools and fridges to store your food. The downside was that everything is so bare in Greece you were pitching your tent in the dirt.

But the camping experience in the Meditteranean won me over. It was so relaxing, filled with sunshine and one million stars which lit up the Northern Hemisphere sky. I can still vividly recall camping under olive trees in Crete.

Fastforward, and then rewind slightly, to a few weeks ago. Hubby and I camped for the first time since back in Oz. We finally made a decision about a car and having purchased our Volvo station wagon with LOADS of boot space {and gorgeous leather interior} we were keen to fill it up with equipment and get away. Nick’ s birthday seemed the perfect occasion.

Now when Nick said “I’d love to go camping for my birthday” I thought that sounded great. A cheap, getaway that might help the travel itch. With great enthusiasm we went to Anaconda and purchased new thermorests, a billy, water bottles, PDF and other bits and pieces.

Only problem was Nick and I held totally different images in our mind of what that camping experience would be like. I thought warm, sunny destination in a kid friendly camping area close to somewhere to kayak. I was thinking Myall Lakes National Park was looking good. Hubby on the other hand was thinking free bush camping or as close as he could get with no toilets, no showers and no BBQ facilities.

So we compromised and chose a camping spot inland in line with Mittagong. Can you hear the banjo playing twang. The campsite was owned by some serious hillbillies (Nick's comment not mine so you know they were hardcore for him to comment). It was tucked down in the bottom of a valley and the campers next to us had been camping here for years.

The site itself was grassed and right on the river bank for easy swimming and kayaking. There was not a shower in sight. There was a toilet but the smell, oh my lord!

It was a shame the kayaking was dreadful. The river was brown with silt and at one stage my paddle almost got wedged between two rocks mid stroke. The river itself was interrupted by rapids which would have been wonderful had they been flowing in the opposite direction.

It didn’t take us long to get unpacked and soon we were chilling out in the shade while Raya ran around in her knickers knowing she was happily going to escape a shower that night and practicing her throwing and catching with daddy.

In an attempt to embrace this camping trip I had packed more marshmellows than we could have possibly eaten although Raya gave it her best effort. All Raya talked about was those marshmellows. I also pre-made damper which we wrapped around sticks, toasted and then filled with golden syrup.

As we sat around the campfire I felt so relaxed. There is something really special about a campfire and the sky was filled with stars, unlike the city night sky.

So what is your problem with camping you ask? What the toilet situation is not enough

Yes till this point in the trip things were going smoothly, compost toilet and all. Until I went to wash up and get changed.

"Nick where's my black pants and underwear". Unidentifiable grunt offered as a reply.

"NICK" I yelled from within the tent as if my husband had genie skills and could make a change of underwear appear.

I had no change of underwear. I had swam in silty water, sweated like a maniac in the humidity, had no shower and now no change of clean underwear. You have got to be joking.

As I was packing my bag to leave I had got interrupted by my daughter. I had changes of clothes and underwear in a pile on the bed RIGHT next to the black bag - and then nick had yelled out 'Can I take the bag". Thinking he would have thrown in the piles of clothes I said "Yep".

On further questioning Nick explained that he believed the piles were things I had taken out of my bag because I wanted to pack light. Yeah right like that is ever going to happen.I am the queen of the orange label heavy sticker on your suitcase.

All of a sudden the back to nature feel good vibe we had happening was feeling sweatier, stickier and dirtier. Nick thought it was hilarious and like any wife can tell you, humour at a time like this definetely improves the situation.

Day two was going to be interesting!

All they need is love

2011-03-23T15:25:00.000+11:00

So today I was reading my daily fix o fMamamia and I came across this article here by Catherine Deveny. I love the hilarious, honest and direct way this woman writes without coming across as patronising.

For those of you too lazy to click the link essentially what Catherine was preaching about was that kids need most the love of their parents.

Now this seems obvious but often as parents we get struck down with the guilt stick which can screw a parents' perspective on the matter.

It doesn't matter what clothes or shoes they are wearing, whether they had to eat weetbix in front of the tv one night this week {or three}, whether they go private or public, how many toys they have ans whether or not you have them enrolled in violin, swimming, gymboree and mandarin.

At the end of the day kids want to know that we love them unconditionally. They see and FEEL this in the attention we give them and the time we make for them.

When we were travelling we kept hearing "what about x" or "how will you give Aurelia x, y, z". I think there were some people who felt taking our daughter on an adventure around the world was the toddler version of torture. In fact anyone who wants to know torture is a toddler and jetlag. But I digress. We had some sceptics.

I notice on travel forums, where one could expect parents to be more open minded, that the holidays involving infants to anywhere more exotic than Vanuatu, Fiji or the Gold Coast are not generally reported on. In fact I have found some for Fiji to be even a little tricky if not searching out a five star resort.

Parents tend to send private messages to other parents asking for advice rather than post up their travel experiences in case some person who is travelling in their retirement disparages a parent for going to Sabah, Laos or heaven forbid Nepal in the first place.

Everyone has passions or things which shape their interests and dreams. For us it was a wanderlust which keeps us searching for a new adventure whether it be camping - more about that later - or overseas.

Raya might not had a huge number of clothes but she had our time and attention and we created memories together.

People often worry about how kids will cope with travel. My belief is that they cope. They adjust and this is a learning experience in itself.

Here are some photos of our daughter coping on a train trip to Switzerland.

Parents get bombarded with parenting advice. Keep it simple. Regardless of age or location all they need is love.

Bologna = Bikes

2011-03-20T16:47:00.000+11:00

We farewelled Sorrento and headed to bike heaven for Nick known as Bologna to everyone else. Typically the sun was shining on Mt Vesuvius and Pompeii as the train slid past but Pompeii, Nick couldn’t care less about Pompeii today – he was totally in the zone and his mind was fixed firmly on the bikes.

We didn’t book much in this last leg of our travels but I did book us into the tour – as a surprise – am I not the best wife ever! The tour itself was free however they only operate on set days, at set times with limited numbers so it was just lucky that the heavens aligned all the factors for this to occur.

After a long train trip and yep you guessed it another night in a hotel just around the hotel from another Sexy World , anyone would think we were taking a porn tour of Europe, we caught the bus from the centre of town and headed out to the factory.

We were early. Not just “let’s catch a quick coffee before we go in”early but a “I am frozen to my bones” from waiting in the snow kind of early. Still after the stuff up at Catalunya GP I indulged Nick’s desire for us to be overly early for the tour – he is not a fan of my maximum time efficiency plan even though the stuff up was him forgetting the tickets.

The city itself was bland and looked to have been covered in silt. Grey housing commissioned architecture surrounded the factory and it was depressing. Yet we knew the mood was going to lift as soon as we walked through those doors.

Killing time with biscuits

As the time for our tour approached we walked towards the factory where Nick strained his neck to watch the test crew trucks leave the depot excitedly yelling out the names of the riders on the trucks in case I had become illiterate on the walk to the factory.

Once inside we were greeted by a GORGEOUS italian women who obviously loved her job, had a mindblowing knowledge of bikes, not a single question stumped her and she also rode a Ducati – all the men were in love. We were in a group with 2 other Aussies and some other people I can’t recall. The tour guide was very excited to have Australians on the tour and repeatedly told us how much she loved Casey Stoner.

The tour began in the museum which I think was a great way to start. Learning about the history of the company really gives the visitor an appreciation of how phenomenal this company is. Ducati actually began making radios and it wasn’t until the war broke out that they began making engines. The first engine was actually fitted to a bike.

The tour twisted through the displays and at each turn Nick’s jaw dropped a little further as they presented us with the company’s achievements right up till the awesome race machines of today. Every major winner and all winning GP bikes were on display and the temptation to just sit on one for 1 second I could see was killing Nick.

After we had got our history fix we were actually invited to go through a tour of the factory and for this part the cameras had to be put away. I didn’t really have a picture in my mind of what I was going to see but the factory was spotless, meticulously clean and apart from the testing of parts almost silent.

Each bike is assembled by hand {by gorgeous mostly male mechanics}. There are individual workstations for staff and each staff member signs off on the part they assemble so that if something goes wrong they know who to fire. Each staff member specialises in one area but they must know how to assemble an entire bike themselves.

Aurelia cheeky as ever was all smiles for the mechanics and kept yelling “Ciao”. This got LOTS of smiles (Nick insisted on carrying her I think hoping to use her as a way to get closer to the assembly line) and “Ciao Bella”. Raya then took her charm up a notch by yelling out her version of DOO-KAR-TI. She was pretty adorable.

As we walked past the Racing Division we were allowed a sneak peek in the window – which showed nothing- and informed that only a limited number of people have the code to enter that section of the factory. This did not include our tour guide. Guess they are keeping their secrets close to their chest. Currently 100 people are employed in the race section.

Overall the tour was great. For people who love bikes, it would be mindblowing – it certainly seemed to be for Nick and the other aussie male in our group. I was really surprised that they kept the tour free because I am sure people would pay for the experience we had.

If you are in Bologna it is worth checking out – just make sure you don’t mention the name Valentino Rossi on your visit.

Saying Sorry

2011-03-19T20:12:00.000+11:00

This week I was involved in an accident. I won't go into the details other than to say it involved a child doing the wrong thing (no, not a child I teach nor a child related to me) and ended up with me on crutches with an injury to my Achilles Tendon. Time off work, crutches, difficulty moving my toes and not being able to put weight on my foot, drive etc. Not a whole lot of fun.

While the accident was painful - and continues to be -what was shocking was the follow up.

The child who injured me was never made to apologise.

Shortly after the injury occurred the child's parent appeared on the scene. Like I said before, kids are kids, and they are not always the best judges of their actions or accompanied consequences.

However when the father arrived on the scene, almost stepping over me, he refused to acknowledge my presence. While I lay on the floor and staff discussed calling an ambulance, this man ignored me. He asked whether his child was to blame and having his suspicions confirmed he then took his child, in silence, without even a backwards glance and left the scene. I will admit I strained my ear in case there was the embarrassed, out of ear shot reprimand that some parents prefer but, silence.

This is the part which really shocked me, the failure to apologise.

Since then I have asked people their opinions on apologising when it comes to children. While I do not know any adults who would not apologise in this circumstance I have communicated with people who would not necessarily require their children to 'say sorry'.

I'm sorry, what!!

Since when do we not require children to apologise.

In a lot of ways we have tried to parent in a sensitive, attuned manner with many elements of attachment parenting being used. However there seems to be a new trend that does not require children to say please, thank you, hello or sorry. At this point in the journey Nick and I jump ship.

Parents profess of not wanting to create manipulative, insincere children and therefore will not ask their child to apologise instead apologising for them explained as modelling the correct behaviour.

Parents claim we should not ask children to be sorry when they aren't sorry - but how do we know whether they are sorry if we do not interrupt their play or activity to give the incident the attention it deserves.

I'm sorry but I feel that parents who do not require their child to apologise are doing their children a disservice. Yes this is my blog and that is my opinion and no I don't apologise for it!

There is more to an apology than the words "I'm sorry'. For parents who seem to be allergic to these words how about encouraging your child to ask the question "Are you okay?". To show some compassion or empathy for another person is a important life skill. I would like to think I am working hard to raise a child who will be able to express humility when required. Children need modelling of their social skills and an opportunity to practise them. Otherwise we end up with the situation where parents are still apologising non-stop for their teenager or older child who never moved on from their egocentric view of the world where everything revolved around them.

There is also more to an apology for children than the word. We certainly do not want to teach children that apologising is the quickest way to dismiss another person. In the same manner teaching children to respond with 'that's okay" is not helpful when the majority of the time things aren't okay. An "I forgive you" from the victim is more meaningful.

Teaching children to apologise with a more expressive vocabulary than "I'm sorry" allows them to attempt to accept responsibility for their actions without feeling they are putting themselves down.

Sure don't teach your child to say "I'm sorry" but don't replace this apology with nothing. Being able to recognise the difference between right and wrong comes later for our children. Until they can identify that moment they are relying on us to show them the way.

I know I came from a generation which was made to apologise and it didn't cause me to grow a second head.

So I am sorry, but we will be teacher out daughter the value of an apology

Pizza Girl

2011-03-17T17:39:00.000+11:00

So I am getting my blogging mojo back on thanks to a catch up with friend and the exchange of travel stories. My mate Anthony and I both challenged each other to bring back the blogging - so here goes.

This is just a short one of our little Pizza Girl.

Miss A went through a period of not wanting "icky hands" and tried as we might we could not get her to eat pizza with her hands.

Until our last night in Sorrento where we ate the best pizza we had in Italy.

Screwing up her nose at pizza

She finally got brave enough and she liked what she

found

The Art of Living

2011-03-14T20:30:00.000+11:00

Photo by Raya

Do you love where you live?

We really love where we are living currently. Yesterday afternoon we spent time just relaxing and chilling out at the Maianbar and Bundeena Art of Living Festival. It seemed like the entire towns were gathered on the grass in the shade chilling out to the festival bands. Nick and I are keen to see any band which describes itself at 'violin chainsaw slasher folk music' lol.

There were some awesome stands – I picked up a gorgeous outfit for Raya for winter – rides, games, face painting and an art exhibit. The art was wonderful but I think they are dreaming with some of the prices they were asking.

It was a perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon, kids dancing on the grass, parents relaxing and the odd shaved ice cone doesn’t go astray.

Play Point and Shoot and share a picture and brief comment about what you got up to on the weekend.

Expected to be Expecting

2011-03-13T20:10:00.000+11:00

This week I sat and waited for the texts which would announce that my friends babies had entered the world. See I had a dear friend who was awaiting the arrival of her second daughter and a friend from mothers group who was clever enough to manage to grow two babies at the same time.

When I received the SMS that my friends daughter had entered the world I was so excited because being a parent you know how awesome this really is going to be. I think I was even more excited than when her first child was born.

I went off to the hospital to visit and held the tiny bundle of divine preciousness that is her sweet baby girl. Such a gift of potential and being a parent I was confident I could now hold the baby and not drop her on her head! My friend looked wonderful and we commented how you could lose hours just looking at how tiny eyelashes caress chubby cheeks and sleeping mouths are pursed into perfect cupid bow lips. And yes, she did have THAT beautiful baby smell.

I went alone to the hospital under strict instructions from my 3.yo of “don’t bring that baby home here mummy” and I guess I was wondering whether in the darkness of the hospital carpark the clucky stick was going to run at me from behind a parked car and whack me one.

Instead as I strolled to the car, by myself in silence, having left hubby home to do the bed and bathtime routine I was surprised at the feelings of relief that washed over me. Yes this precious life was gorgeous but she reminded me of the one I had already created rather than cause an upsurge of longing for ones yet to be created.

I was overwhelmingly glad that it wasn’t me.

As Raya approached her 3^rd birthday people began to feel it was their job to remind me that I was approaching the second child deadline. It has even become the topic of conversation in the staffroom at work where I was informed I was “running out of time” and that I would end up with two children who were both like only children.

We all had a good laugh but people really are expecting me to announce I am expecting.

I expect, since I can now fight off the clucky stick with borrowed newborn cuddles, that people are going to be disappointed.

I am not expecting to be expecting soon.

Exploring Pompeii

2011-03-13T19:49:00.000+11:00

Another day in Italy, another day of rain. The weather was becoming monotonous now. We had thought that southern Italy would be a nice sunnier escape from the UK but it seems that the rain, snow and sludge was determined to follow us.

Today we jumped back on the graffiti train leaving Sorrento to head towards the Bay of Naples to Pompeii Scarvi.

Once again the carriage was filled with gypsies who worked the tourists hard for cash and once again we were smiled at and passed by. Tired parents feel for tired parents the world around it would seem.

Nick and I felt a bit mixed in regards to the gypsies.We lacked any historical understanding of their plight and how they were viewed by the wider Italian community. Generally they were looked down by the locals we saw. I felt for the young girls who played their instruments and shimmied along the carriage aisle. That was until I saw one jump off the train when we arrived at the station, whip out her mobile phone, hand over the young baby to another girl and jump back onto a train heading back in the opposite direction. It was so sad children themselves looking after young children.

Gypsies aside we arrived at Pompeii and I was really excited having enjoyed Knossos in Crete and long been fascinated with this ancient city preserved in 30 feet of ash thousands of years ago.

For those not in the know Pompeii is in western Italy in the region now known as Campania. Pompeii is a fascinating insight into Roman civilisation at the time.

For the citizens of Pompeii their lives ended when on the 24th August 79AD Mt Vesuvius erupted.

For archeologists and historians the fascination of Pompeii comes from the way the structures and humans were preserved. The citizens of Pompeii were not killed instantly but instead were suffocated by a blanket of hot ashes and poisonous gases. These ashes when cool mixed on human bone to form a 'cast' like structure which froze the bodies in their terrified huddled states. Essentially the dying movements of these poor people were preserved like a paw print in drying cement.

It is these cast postures which have drawn people to Pompeii.

Overall we found the experience a little disappointing. It is not as well preserved as Knossos and there was no option to have a tour guide.

The sheer size of the site means you get good walking value for your 11 Euro but it also means that after several hours of walking down ancient paths in the rain one roman forum is beginning to look like every other Roman Forum.Oh and did I mention the weather was miserable.

Here are some snaps we took as we wandered around the ruins of Pompeii.

Considering tourists are visiting to see the preserved human casts it was disappointing to see how they were displayed. The casts could have been better displayed where they were found rather than disappointingly displayed with a heap of amphores (pots).

Inside some of the structures the light was amazing and the walls were covered with intricate frescoes.

Overall it was an interesting experience that could be maximised with better site management but then perhaps they save this for good weather and peak season.

I would rank it a 7/10 and oh I am pretty sure THIS wasn't part of the original city

A fast food outlet - what every ancient site needs

Catching Up

2011-03-12T13:01:00.000+11:00

Tonight I am catching up with some old friends I used to work with and I am so looking forward to it.

One of my friends set off to investigate life overseas in a similar way to us and this is the first time I will have seen him since he got back.

I love the sharing of travel stories. Birth stories are always interesting to listen to in a bunch of women but travel stories are the best whether it is the funny, drunken story or the description of that amazing landscape, dive experience or meal in Italy.

Travel stories also have a way of taking on a life of their own. All of a sudden that mountain is higher, the trek was longer, the overhead clouds become a blizzard and that basic but clean backpackers room becomes a semblance of Changi Prison.

Catching up to share travel stories reminded me that I still haven't shared all of mine and since we are currently researching our next trip I had best get around and finish them off.

It will be good practice for tonight

Well hello there

2011-03-02T23:24:00.000+11:00

This blog has been well and truly neglected lately, sorry. I have my daughter turning 3 tomorrow and I have been attempting to create a photo book of her third year and it is almost complete. Almost. It has been taking up all my spare time but it will be so worth it when it is completed. Just looking back over the last year has shown me how much she has grown and how lucky we have been to spend so many magical moments together.

I have lots of things I want to post about not least of all the travels we did this last weekend gone for Nicks birthday.

I also want to come back and share some exciting new possibilities which are opening up for me.

So hang around, I'll be right back

Paddling on the sky

2011-02-15T22:03:00.000+11:00

It was so still. Not another boat. Not a bird or bat flying overhead. Not another kayak, jetski. Not a noise or even a breeze.

Perfectly still.

And the sky was reflected onto the water in the most amazing way.

As my paddle sliced through the almost liquid velvet I felt like I was paddling in the sky.

And I felt still.

Who are we trying to impress

2011-02-08T17:05:00.000+11:00

At our house we are just pulling on our party planning shoes. I love the idea of a party. Not because I am a party animal but I love the visualising of a party coming together to pull off a theme - the decorations, the food, the invitations. I have always enjoyed this and it has always been a bone of contention with my husband.

Plain and simple he believes party planning to be showing off. Now we have had countless arguments about this in the past because I am a big believer in made with love except today I had to stop and think as mum's "who are we trying to impress'.

Miss A is about to turn 3. If you had asked me what theme I thought we would have had for her party I would have said Ballet, Angelina Ballerina - something pink and sparkly with dancing and tulle.

We have already had an enchanted garden fairy party when she turned 1 and a duck themed party with a jumping castle when she turned two. Both parties were huge, she had 20 kids at her second birthday and involved a lot of effort and expense - but she had a wonderful time.

Now at almost three she decided she wants a beach birthday party. Simple, we live right on the beach and she loves being in the water.

She then told me who she wanted to come and the guest list was small. When I thought about it she really does enjoy when she has only her closest little boy and girl friend and her cousins. Anymore and it becomes a lesson in toddler diplomacy over the trampoline.

I asked her what she wanted her party to be like and she said " cake and candles and dancing and people have to sing and umm... that one with the stick {she means limbo!} and I want you to make me a mermaid cake, a tinkerbell mermaid cake, a round one and icecream" at which point she sucked in oxygen before her cheshire grinning 3 year old face exploded from chattering non stop. I am still working out the Tinkerbell mermaid cake - I think she means one with the barbie doll in it.

I asked her about the food and she said "ice cream and corn flake cup cakes {she saw these on the packet but has never eaten one} and blue jelly but I don't like jelly mum". Umm okay that makes sense!

But basically her demands were simple. She wants to have fun.

So of course I started looking for the perfect invitation - she wanted a Beach Party - not a Luau or a Mermaid Party - or Underwater Party or Pool Party. At 3 she clearly knows what she likes and doesn't like. I saved a collection of invites on the computer some of which she liked - sort of, but rather than looking she wanted me to dress her Rapunzel cut out doll with her.

I showed her some pictures of beach parties but she just tugged on my arm because she wanted to have a lunch beach picnic at the beach she can see from our lounge room. "Mum c'mon, I've got my dolly and pram".

As I scooped up the food, juice, rug, pillows, hat, sunscreen, book, paddington bear who had escaped from the stroller and began the walk out our gate to the beach I thought of this website I had seen today.

The website celebrationsathomeblog is the kind of blog that makes you gasp at the beauty {or in hubby's case the horror} of the parties. They are just so well executed. They are almost works of art.

But this one sticks with me. It was a shabby chic themed birthday party for a 3 year old boy.

I thought long and hard and I don't know any 3 year olds, boys or girls who know what shabby chic is. I know I sometimes look shabby rather than chic because I am time poor with a toddler but honestly I wonder how into this her son really was.

The 3 year old boys I know wouldn't even slow down to appreciate the lace on the bottle and none would be able to read the elegant name tags.

This is beautiful but did her 3 year old son ask for lace and braid table runners? Perhaps he did and I am way off mark but I don't think so. My 3 year old nephew is having a party with 12 of his boisterous friends on Saturday and he loves everything Rory, Thomas, moving and noisy. Now that is a stereotype I am aware but he would cry if his mother turned on this above spread {note - I love this for myself}.

If her 3 year old son didn't ask for this - then who is this for? Is it for the mum? Is if for the guests? Do the folds on the plate decorations demonstrate true love and affection due to the time spent completing these?

Hell, has my husband been right?

Who are we trying to impress? Do kids whose mums throw these parties love their mums more?

No of course not.

This year I have let Aurelia be involved in all the planning because this year she can. It is her special day and I will do what I can within reason and budget {or beyond hubby would insist} for it to be perfect. For her to have a wonderful day. But this won't be from the perfect cake topper or table runner or tissue pom poms which are all the rage. No it will come from someone splashing her, or tickling her, or watching her daddy do air guitar or her mum not racing around all party and having time to be present at her birthday.

When we got back from the beach I opened up the Smilebox application on my computer and let her set about choosing her own free email birthday powerpoint. She chose the photos with me. In the end she selected a pink teddy bear themed invite {which doesn't match the the theme at all lol} and some jazz music to go with the powerpoint. But she loved it and laughed each time she made me replay it.

This party we will be keeping it simple. Not because I don't have time or because I don't care but because she doesn't. She would rather have me playing tea parties and dress ups then worrying about whether her decorations are colour coordinated. The only person I am trying to impress is my daughter. And all she wants is ice cream, the beach and to spend time with people she loves.

We'll shelve the shabby chic for a later date.

Point and Shoot - Party Planning

2011-02-07T08:40:00.000+11:00

It's hard to believe that my Miss A is 35 months this month and next month she turns 13 - I mean 3!

She is so excited to be turning three and tells everyone we meet including strangers in Woolworths that she is almost 3 holding up three little fingers with purple fingernails.

It is hard to wait. Nana, myself, two of her cousins and daddy will all have had their birthday by the time hers rolls around.

So I asked her what she wanted for her birthday.

She told me she wanted a party at home - on the beach. She wanted "a beach party cake, candles, dancing and the one with the stick". The 'one with the stick' she is referring to would be Limbo!

So we are in full party planning mode - looking at cake pictures (she keeps finding one bigger and more elaborate) not sure mummy is up to the task and trying to decide between a mermaid beach theme, a hula theme or just sun and sand.

Stay tuned for party progress

Point and Shoot - Happy Birthday to Me

2011-01-31T08:24:00.001+11:00

This weekend I celebrated yet another birthday and they only seem to be coming around faster as I am getting older.

This was the first year that Aurelia has really been into the whole birthday celebrations which was delightful.

Raya with daddy's help bought me an album by Edwarde Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero's which I love. Hubby then arranged for a fantastic day out to the MCA to see the brilliant Annie Leibovitz Exhibit.

The exhibit was amazing even if you are someone who doesn't love photography {who are those people}.

Her photography is so well known from her early formative years at Rolling Stone

Taken 10hrs before his death

through to her portraiture of Demi Moore for Vanity Fair but it was the documentary of her family and close friend Susan Sontag which best demonstrate her amazing talent.

I absolutely LOVED it and then hubby spoilt me by buying me this little present.

Finally hubby arranged for champagne and a catch up with our dear friends here.

Finally we went back to my parents where my daughter tried to fit all the candles onto my cake and excitedly helped me blow {spit on them} out.

It was a lovely birthday

A sweet little romance

2011-01-25T08:42:00.000+11:00

I can't believe that I haven't shared this sweet little short story from our travels.

The sun was setting and the cold creeping in from the ocean as we waited at the bus shelter for our return ride to Sorrento. As we waited with Aurelia dancing next to us a family arrived at the bus shelter. As we waited we saw the following romantic scene occur.

"Ciao Bella". We looked at the adults who were all smiling at the charismatic {we would find out later} 3 year old who was coming our way and making a beeline for... Aurelia!! He flashed us a smile "Ciao, Ciao" to which we stammered out our reply. Gee they are confident even at 3!!

He walked up to Raya and leant in and kissed her on the cheek. He looked her right in the eyes and to everyone's amusement she smiles at him and says "Ciao". At this his whole family starts to giggle.

He puts his arm around Aurelia and in an attempt to get some "ivacy" {as Raya calls it} well as much as parents of 2-3 year olds will allow when they are standing next to a fence overlooking the ocean, walks her about 1.5 metres away from us. He had his arm around her shoulders and she had her arm around his waist which was quite the effort since they were both snuggled up little bunnies in their cold weather gear. He was pointing to the ocean and the sunset and chirping away in Italian. The entire time she was smiling and nodding like she could understand what he was talking about {seems she understands first date etiquette already}.

It was the sweetest moment. The way she chatted to him and he chatted back and they looked in each others eyes. There was no forced toddler interactions or parallel play here.They were TOTALLY into each other.

By now the entire bus shelter is fascinated by the scene unfolding. When he kissed her and then she kissed him back Nick was like "right time to step in" but then the bus arrived - his bus - and they do what two infatuated people do - they clung to each other both crying.

He was crying and screaming "Ciao" while his dad held him under his arms to haul him onto the bus. Raya clung to her daddy crying and alternatively waving and blowing kisses.

It was heartbreakingly sweet, no word of exaggeration.

Shame she won't remember her first sweet little romance

1950s or 2011

2011-01-22T09:28:00.000+11:00

I'm sorry but can someone remind me again what year this is? Or even what decade?

I had an experience this week that made me stop and think because either myself or the guy I met was living in an alternate reality.

We are car shopping at the moment. I hate it. You would think it would be fun. I love shopping normally. But this isn't fun, actually it's a long way removed from fun. Right about now car salesmen are rating right below tax men and parking inspectors.

Having done research online I decided to use some of my childfree day going to a car dealership. I should have known better. But hubby is a nurse and taking a toddler to a car yard isn't the easiest. We have had about 50 tantrums already from her wanting to drive the cars.

So in an attempt to save any residual sanity we had I went on my child -free time.

I went to a dealership that's name starts with N - ends with N and has an ss in the middle.

I wanted to look at the Pathfinder. My local dealership has none on the yard.

So I drove to a dealer further away.They only had one, a demonstrator model which when opened had food and rubbish in the side of the door.Noice.

I explained we had researched and told him what I was after. You would have thought I was the perfect person to walk onto the car yard on a quiet day without any customers.I also explained hubby was a nurse so doing a test drive together was difficult but since I would be driving the vehicle 95% of the time for the work commute it was important for me to test drive it.

Well this chap had no interest in taking me anywhere. The car was backed against the wall. When I asked him to roll the car forward so I could look at the boot space etc he commented that I could see fine from the side.

I don't really tolerate fools. I don't think I am overly bitchy just that I try not to be an idiot and appreciate when others do the same.

He had no idea about torque and he also quoted me the wrong level of fuel consumption for his car adding an extra 2 litres which according to my reviews and the dealership brochure the car doesn't use.

I asked him for a test drive and he wasn't taking it out. He then went on to say that "when you come back with your husband on the weekend I will be more than happy to help you find the right car. I guess we will see you both on the weekend" Guess he doesn't sell cars to any lesbians then since there is no husband to come back on the weekend!

Umm not likely. The only thing his card will come in handy for is for ensuring I spell his name correctly when I write a letter to complain to N*%$@n about their sexist employees.

It felt a lot like the scene in Pretty Woman - the one where she walks back in to the store after being treated poorly and says "You made a mistake, a big mistake, HUGE even".

Sexist car salesman you made a big mistake

Point and Shoot - Sparks Fly

2011-01-17T21:34:00.000+11:00

How was your weekend?

Ours was spent hitting our New Years resolutions to be more financially minded which means we sat around and did our 2011 budget. Yippee - it was about as exciting as watching paint dry.

Then on Sunday I treated mum to High Tea at the Observatory Hotel which was sublime- more to follow when I upload the pics of our gold flake encrusted cupcakes.

However our weekend concluded on a high note with sparks flying {no it wasn't talk about the budget} when someone forgot to look up.

We live right on the water. Connecting our side of the water to the other are large overhead power lines. I am not sure how much voltage runs through these power lines but the signs on the banks are intimidating when I kayak past.

Still the overhead lines are sooo far above I thought it extremely unlikely anything would hit it.

I thought wrong.

My neighbour from her deck witnessed a catamaran with a ridiculously huge mast sail straight into the power lines. Luckily for the boat it managed somehow to keep sailing.

However the moment the powerlines were hit sparks ran the entire length of the cable up to the point on our side of the water where the power pole was. Now it is not a huge ugly metal construction more a telegraph pole that holds the lines.

Well apparently this pole was shooting sparks like it was the 4th of July.

I was unaware of this as I had one little just removed from the shower with a towel around her {who in the dimming lights slipped straight over on that towel on the bathroom floor}, a niece I was showering and a nephew getting ready for bed.

The lights just softly dimmed like hubby was creating a romantic mood except it wasn't romantic as the power blackout shut off all our air con, fans, fridge and we were sweltering. Not ideal conditions for putting three littles to bed, one of whom is highly allergic to mozzie bites.

Thankfully after a couple of hours the power came back on and we were saved by my laptop being able to play a DVD to comfort my frightened nephew but I was and still am pretty peeved.

1. I am peeved at the "wow look at me irresponsibly sail my MAHOOSIVE vessel". Not only did it cause a risk to us but also to his/her crew. Idiots.

2. Our real estate agent has said that the landlord would send someone out to clean our gutters and rood - in November and we are still waiting. The sparks could have easily set off a fire on our roof or gutters as we are surrounded by dry leaf litter just begging to combust. Not particularly keen for our house and everything we own to burn to the ground.

So this weekend ended with a bang and hopefully that was all the unplanned excitement we will have this week.

Looking at our allowance for entertainment in our new budget - I would well and truly say so!!!

Another mummy lesson learnt

2011-01-15T19:57:00.000+11:00

I see you looking at the picture. We both know where this story is going don't we!

This morning I had a sleep in. See I am a little tired at the moment. 'You are on holidays!' I hear you say. True, true but I have a soon to be Miss 3 who is battling with us at bedtime. The lack of sleep is hurting.

I think with a snuggly, helpless looking newborn we expect the nights of sleeplessness but when your child unexpectedly begins behaving like they are possessed around bedtime then it catches you a little off guard.

So yesterday I was at the shops feeling tired. Dangerous combination for any budget. Shopping tired is a no no because you are guaranteed to purchase something either hideous, ridiculous, expensive or a ghastly combination of all three.

Thankfully I wasn't that exhausted. I was just looking for a little pick me up. A budget friendly, kilojoule free treat.What could be better than a tiny bottle of gorgeous black nail polish! {fine lot's of things but this worked for me}

No it doesn't look goth. It makes short squared off nails look fantastic and feels a teeny bit rock and roll when I glimpse down and see my awesome looking manicured nails on the paddle.

So I bought the little bottle and when I had finally coaxed the soon to be Miss 3 into the Land of Nod I kicked back for a bit of pampering. A facial masque, body moisturising and a mani and pedi. Toes fire engine red and fingernails black.

Once my nails were dry, I zipped up the nail polish bag on the coffee table, put the nail polish remover and cuticle stick back into the bathroom and then I popped into bed with my new book which is so brilliant I can barely tear myself away. Hubby was working a double.

That's right I left my bag of nail polish on the coffee table.

Fast forward to me having a sleep in. When I did awake there was no small body between us but I could hear a small body in our lounge room. Hubby groggily informed me that our daughter had risen around 6.30am and he had set her up in the loungeroom to be supervised by Dora until she needed us.

It was now 7.30am.

I popped up to use the bathroom and then stuck my head into the loungeroom. She sat mesmorised in front of the boots and that Swiper the fox.

She had an empty cereal bowl in front of her and a Ryvita which she had obviously helped herself too.

And there sitting beside her Ryvita was my new bottle of black nail polish with the lid screwed on in a giving-up-the-secret wonky kind of way.

I called her name and as she turned to face me I felt my jaw drop in horror. Raya had used my new black nail polish as lip stick.

I then looked down and she had done quite a good job on her toes {seriously} as well as painted striped on the inside of her thighs. She gave me a huge grin. She was feeling great about her efforts.

It was my fault. I left the bottles on the coffee table. I just didn't think. I regretted it, and so did she as I had to remove the nail polish from her lips with my acetone remover. Acetone stings.Ouch

"I no paintin my face with your beautiful nail polish again mummy" she promised me.

I promised myself to leave my nailpolish high above the reach of a little girl who loves to copy mummy.

Romantic Ravello

2011-01-14T23:54:00.000+11:00

With full bellies we caught a bus to the top of the cliffs to the picturesque village of Ravello.

Ravello is located high above the sea with jaw dropping views of the Bay of Salerno. It feels like you can see forever looking out over the Mediterranean ocean.

People who stay down at water level believing they have seen everything the Amalfi coastline has to offer are mistaken.

While Ravello comes into her full beauty during spring and summer – her famous Villa Rufolo and Villa Cimbrone were both closed – she is still a beauty regardless of the season.

Our winter visit in the rain with thick clouds over head made the buildings look more ancient and we arrived in the main square with it’s Moroccan influenced architecture to a sleepy hush in the alleys, closed cafes and boutiques and only one café open for which we made a beeline.

Nick and I both felt that of all the Italian cities we had visited this was without question the most intimately beautiful. With only 2000 resident we could easily see how this town has proven to be a haven historically for artisans of all kinds.

Huddled in the warmth of the café snacking on crisps and sipping thick coffees we wrote our postcards home informing our parents we had been seduced and were going to remain living in Southern Italy – we wish!

Just before the bus came back to collect us the sun dashed out from behind the clouds to bathe the cliff clinging buildings in golden light. We just stood there silent and tried to absorb it into ourselves, willing each cell almost to hold tight to this special moment.

We were on our way home to Sorrento but we felt a little heartbroken to be leaving this behind us. If home is where the heart is then we would have been staying put.

So I went

2011-01-13T22:05:00.000+11:00

I looked out from the deck and felt the breeze blowing.

Today was the day. I could feel it.

I went to my room and changed into board shorts, cossie and rashie. I stepped over the laundry basket, shoes and between Raya's shopping basket of plastic toys, her tutu and her best dancing shoes.

I walked into the kitchen and announced my plan. Nick just nodded with his head.

I stood frozen. I kept looking at him. He smiled and nodded again. Like what I was doing was an everyday event rather than a first.

He said "enjoy". And I did.

I just went. No negotiating or pre organising. No debating. No "are you sures" and checking everyone else was fine first. Carpe Diem baby. I hauled my kayak down into the water and despite the tide being out and paddling into a wind I paddled away. I snuck 40 minutes of me time right on dinner. I left hubby cooking dinner and escaped the incessant playing of the Fairies for silence.

I just went and I will keep going.

A bedtime challenge for Supernanny

2011-01-13T17:10:00.000+11:00

We don't have Foxtel in our house but whenever I get to mum and dad's I love to watch Supernanny boot camp her Mary Poppins routine on struggling families and out a control kids.

Well this week I think Miss A would have beaten Supernanny and her "just keep putting them back" bedtime routine.

I am not sure the reason for the bedtime battles at our house at present but they are on in full force. Not so much of an issue while I am off work but soon to be a problem.

Raya wants me to lie down with her and while she used to go off to sleep within minutes this has now extended to me lying with her long enough for me to fall asleep and her carrying on beside me all the while keeping me in a headlock. Where did my self settling little one go to?

So on our night back from holidays the words "this has to stop' came out of my mouth. Foolish - like I have any control over what happens in our house lol Did I forget the little one is the boss? Okay so I exaggerate but Miss A did rule the roost the other night.

She wanted me to lie down with her and she was not taking no for an answer. We put her down about 7.45 and 5 hours later she was still bouncing out of bed till eventually I cracked it and used my teacher voice to which she laid down and went to sleep.

She was just like a rubber band and even though we kept bouncing her back to bed it just didn't work.

I am not sure why we are having the 3 year old sleep battles but I hope they are short lived - we are all tired.

Then top it off I awoke just before 5am feeling cold and as I reached down to pull the doona up onto the bed spied Raya nestled between us with her body lying mostly on top of Nick. As I pulled up the doona over both of us I heard her sigh - she was cool like me - and then she proceeded to wet the bed.

Yep that feeling of being warm stirrred her enough for her to pee all over Nick who woke up screaming. Raya remained asleep.

In the morning raya asked "mummy why are your eyes all red. It's not pretty".

Thanks babe and you are right - there is nothing pretty or glamorous about these bedtime battles.