Love and Light x

I'm packing again. This flight will take me to Pram for the big birthday weekend for my pa. It has also timed with me being able to support one of my besties in saying Goodbye to one of her close friends.
Death is such a big concept for anyone to get their mind around especially when its so sudden and tragic and it seems unreal that it would happen to someone who lit up a room when she entered it.  It's hard to watch and feel the grief that her friends left behind are feeling because it gives me a glimpse at what I would be feeling if one of my besties was taken away.  These girls have life long memories from High School but some from as far back as primary school which is coming up a bloody long time.  When I think of all of them together I can picture girls who loved a good party, a loud laugh, taking the piss out of each other with some funny shit stirring thrown in.  You knew it was going to be a good night if they were all around.  They have those sort of amazing memories that will hopefully help them through this dark time.  I guess you can never really prepare yourself to lose someone.  Its just not a reality I want in my world.  I get that its inevitable but that doesn't make it anymore real for my brain.  And certainly not at our age.  or any age?  It's the physical that we miss.  Its not being able to see them, hear their voice or touch them. The thought that they are no longer feeling the sunshine on their face or doing normal things like making a coffee or doing their dishes and yet the world keeps going.  Why? Doesn't the world understand it needs to stop for a minute and take it in.  Shes not here anymore.  Why are those cars still driving, people still shopping.  It all just keeps going?  People have lots of different views on what happens when you pass and I am completely open to whatever version makes someone happy.  I personally love the idea that they have gone to 'the source' or the light and are blissfully at peace in an amazing place still watching us and hanging out with us but we just can't see them anymore.  The idea that when you die that's the end is something I completely reject.  I want to think there is this amazing next step and these special people who are taken too soon are partying like there's no tomorrow just waiting to meet up with us again.  Maybe that's the hippy coming out in me but so what.  I like it.
I guess that's the awesome part of growing up in a small town.  You made friends from an early age who stuck with you forever.  You knew everyone maybe not closely but they were an important part of your world just because. She was someone who I wasn't lucky enough to give the title of close friend but who has always been a part of my world in some way. When I think about my childhood she is entwined amongst it as a lot of those sort of people are, in all my primary school photos, at parties, through my bestie, in the corridors at high school, at the mall, at the beach.  She just was.  So I will go on Friday and say my own Goodbyes in my own way and I will smile and send light whenever I think of her.

Baby Signing

When the Teenager was just a little hunk of human, my sister-in-law introduced us to a very cool book called 'Baby Talk' by a kiwi couple called Karyn and Giles Warburton.  It's basically a way to teach your pre-talking little sponge how to tell you what they want without throwing themselves down and head butting the ground.  I have since used it for both my kids and it was easy, fun and my kids loved it plus they looked freaken gorgeous communicating with little pudgy hands.
This concept is so easy, you don't need to go and enroll in your local international sign language workshop, its all stuff we do anyway but its a way to really spend some quality time teaching and playing with your babe.  It doesn't stop them from speaking because you are saying the word while you sign it and they just naturally copy.  Kids are way smart they can be multilingual before they are 5 if you want them to be so throwing in some easy signing is peanuts really.
It's also pretty handy when your on the other side of a room from a mischievous face who has just picked up Nana's precious vase and is looking like shot putting it through the front window.  A simple cough to get their attention and the 'No' followed by the 'down' sign is pretty impressive way for some control without having to hurdle the couch screaming like a banshee.
We started doing signing from about 10 months but they didn't properly start responding until about 14 months.  The book comes with a quick reference chart which I just stuck to the fridge so everyone could see it and do it.  One time when the baby 7yr old was at his grandparents for the day we picked him up and were told that he had been acting a little strange, he had been wiping crumbs off the front of his jersey all day? Actually what he was doing was signing the word 'please'.
My Kids used 'More' 'Drink' 'Food' 'Poos' 'Please' 'Mum' 'Dad' 'Ball' 'Outside' 'all done' 'don't touch' and 'help me' the most but knew signs for animals, plane, hat, noisy and heaps more. 
They signed right up until they were probably just over 2 when words came more easily and we just slowly dropped the signing.
I highly recommend this book to anyone who is about to have a baby or is struggling with clever little people who just can't seem to get their point across.
www.baby-talk.co.nz

Mother Daughter Outrageous Fortune Time

 It was a gorgeous day in the Garden City today so what better way to spend an hour with the teenager than to head down to the mall and get a needle stuck through our nostrils or to put it more nicely we got our noses pierced.  Now I didn't plan to get mine done.  I was just going with her to sign the consent form but some weird mid life crisisy thing pinged in my brain and I thought 'Why the hell not??' its been a while since I've put some metal in my body and up til this point have enjoyed standing back and just taking photos while she does all that fun stuff instead.
In the car on the way there I suddenly had a moment of "am I too old for this?" so of course rang the bestie who still pulls off pink jeans and random cardies. I was sure she still had hers done and knew she would agree that this was one of my better plans.  She unfortunately informed me that no she doesn't have hers pierced any longer. Stink One. But then said "but everyone in India has it done" which gave me the push I needed to go through with the whole thing once more.
Its a funny thing this whole aging buzz.  The number freaks me out if I think about it too long but the saying "your only as old as you feel" is pretty true.  I really look forward to when we are all old and in retirement villages cause our generation and the ones that come after us are happy to put lots of ink on our skin and metal in our bodies and its just not a strange concept anymore.  I totally get that its not for everybody and that's cool too.  I guess for me Piercings are just holes that you put in your skin that if your done with them can heal over and tattoos as long as some decent thought has gone into them is a very cool and interesting way of recording something or sometime in your life forever. 
As someone who has dreads, tattoos and piercings I was never going to have an issue with my kids doing stuff like this and really like the individuality it creates.  A hairstyle or a mark on your skin doesn't define someones beauty.  Only your personality can do that.  I love that our society isn't as judgmental as it used to be although we still have some work to do but I optimistically and hopefully look forward to a world of even more creativity and open-mindedness for my kids kids kids to grow up in.

 

The Wilton Farm

My cat has Alzheimer's
One Dog needs Anger Management
The other dog has Kleptomania
My budgie has agoraphobia
and the chooks have unexpected carnivore tendencies.
and yet its all peace and love in our backyard.

Poor old Moon Goon she is coming up 18 (?) so is entitled to some senior moments.  I feed her and then 10 mins later she is miaowing round my legs like she hasn't been fed for days.  I just humor her and fill her bowl again, shes so skinny anyway I figure extra chow won't harm her.  Its kinda like when really really old people still smoke, is there any point in them quitting now? I say go down with a ventilator attached to your throat and an ashtray super glued to your wrist if it makes you happy.    Ugly but happy.  Awesome.  

My Starfish is such a cool but noisy dog inside our fence, she's a Jack Russell so barking comes with the territory but you take her out on a leash and she suddenly becomes a possessed nutbar.  She smells freedom and will do anything to get to it.  A leash to her is such a downer but unfortunately as she has got older '9' she has become pretty grumpy towards other 'nicely behaived' 'minding their own business' pooches out enjoying the sunshine.  Suddenly this little bundle of white will come hurtling across the road to scare the shit out of the dog and owner.  Shes all noise but she pulls off the part of Kujo pretty impressively.

 Rouge our gentle, needy, loyal English Staffy also has issues.  She is still in the puppy stage but closer to the end than the start not that she is aware of those expectations.  It all comes down to her being a chewer and her most favourite things to chew are always plastic or wood, nothing wrong with that except if its nothing of hers and everything of ours.  Because of this we have kept the hall door shut at all times to save the kids stuff from being devoured by her gorgeous jaws.  Slowly we are trying to trust her down the bedroom end of the house, its not really going to plan.  If she is completely supervised at all times then happy days but if the little minx sneaks away unnoticed until you see her tail standing straight up and she is running then you know to give chase pretty bloody quickly to save the dinosaur or barbie that is about to be lunch.  That tail thing gives her away every time.  Stealing food out of the chicken hutch or pinching plastic bowls out of the cupboard is always flagged with the tail up in the air.  Her most fav toy is a big blue 99 cent bucket.  Wish I knew that before I forked out for all those ridiculously expensive puppy toys.

 My Budgie Toby-Jug is another guy with some counselling required.  He can't cope with being out of his cage.  Freaks him out.  All that space to spread his wings just causes him no end of stress.  We open the cage and prise him off his swing or behind his mate the mirror and he will be straight back in before you can turn your back.  I blame the people who had him first.  I got him off Trade Me from this crazy flash house.  I guess money couldn't buy happiness for this budgie.  He accidentally got out of his cage straight after the earthquake and flew outside, I figured that was the last I would see of him but after a whole night out in pretty crap weather I found him sitting on my clothesline.  Grabbed his cage opened the door and he flew straight in.   I like to think that he enjoys watching all the mental-ness and noise that goes on in my lounge from the safety and comfort of his cage.


 My Chooks are devine.  Omelette and Quiche.  Watching them strutting freely around my little piece of Aotearoa makes me very happy.  Its chicken eutopia.  They can go where they want when they want.  They are big healthy looking girls who have a wicked taste for meat.  They will fight the dogs for bones and love nothing more than some cat food or dog roll.  The downside of these roaming dinosaurs is the amount of poo they leave behind everywhere but I figure that's a small price to pay for my glorious sassy girls.

  We are very lucky that all our animals get along so well.  My bliss on a hot summer day is sitting outside with the husband and a cold glass of cider listening to the kids far away on the tramp.  Moon sitting up on the table.  Toby hanging in the tree above. Star & Rouge soaking up the sun beside me on one side and the Chooks scratching around on the other.  Love Love Love

Eftpos Gypsy Adventure No 1

.....and exhale! We are home! What a fabulous 6 days away in Melbourne.  First off a big Sorry to all my Aussie friends I was supposed to catch up with or call.  This trip was awesome but felt quite manic from start to finish.  It just seemed to fly by.  We will be back in April for Round 2.  Being picked up by the airport shuttle at 4am is always a struggle.  If you know me at all you will be aware of my aversion to mornings especially middle of the night mornings but its always nice to know you are heading to the happiest place on earth to rest before the flight...I love you Koru Lounge and all you have to offer me....with so many flights booked it got me thinking about Flight Etiquette.  The unsaid rules that if everybody followed would make a 3 hour flight a lot more comfortable.  We are always the last on the plane due to literally moving into the Koru Lounge and the husband always says "there's no point going on the first call cause we will just have to Queue" so when they finally start urgently calling our names over the PA System it takes him a while to finish up the free food and booze and put all his crap back in his bags to then have to pretty much sprint to the gate.  By that point I'm so flustered I'm wishing I had put a lot more deodorant on that morning.  It suxs to be the last ones on cause we always have heaps of hand luggage which when I'm trying to hurry up the skinny aisle to find my seat I keep hitting people in the head as I walk past only to be met with death stares from the passengers who are already seated and waiting. I give up saying 'sorry' after the first 12 times.
If your like me and have a husband who's 5 and always wants the window seat which leaves me in the bloody middle of him and a complete stranger, the concept of personal space is pretty much non existent.  Elbow Room? I never know which one is mine and because I spend so much time dithering about it I end up with none.  3 hours with your arms pinned to your sides is not the most relaxing way to travel.  The other obstacle I have to get through when your late on the plane is putting your seat belt on when one half is under the stranger beside you, so here I am fossicking uncomfortably around his hip area, trying not to actually touch him and then pull the belt out with out looking like I'm trying to feel him up.  We finally get all settled and start to relax into the journey but an hour into it and after all that free booze at the K Lounge, nature calls which suxs cause I'm in the middle so now the stranger has to move all his crap, fold up his tray table, take off his headphones and slide into the aisle so I can get past.  I then have to wee at lightning speed because I know he is waiting for me to come back and if I take to long he might think I went for a mid air poo.  Just as I sit down and get settled, the husband decides he needs to go.  So we start the dance all over again.  God what a nightmare.
I also never really know if I should speak to the stranger next to me when I first sit down cause I feel like it sets a precedent for the rest of the flight.  To speak or not to speak.  Sometimes its just easier not too.
My family hassle me greatly about how loud I laugh at movies on flights.  Once I've got my headphones on its all about me.  I go into a zone and forget about everyone around.  I can be totally engrossed in a film and am laughing hysterically only to be poked in the side by a frowning embarrassed husband.  It's something I need to work on.
What do you do on a night flight when you want to read but the stranger next to you is all tucked up wanting to sleep? I never know if I can turn my overhead light on without feeling like a wanker.
Anyway Melbourne was its usual glorious Money spending self.  We made a pact that we would make the most out of our trip and we did.  We ate we drank we sold our little butts off.  All up a very successful working holiday.
The Teenager and her friend earned a nice pair of skanky looking heels for completing their house/pet sitting duties without staining, burning or losing anything or anyone in the process.  Or just hiding it really well.   They are keepers.
I figure there's not much point unpacking we are off again in a week and a half.  I'm tired thinking about it.

The 7 yr Old

Our Gorgeous 7yr old has been watching me sitting and typing away on my lappy over the last few weeks and is very interested in 'Mums Blog'.  He keeps hounding me "Where's the one about me?" he says over and over again.  So here I go...A blog about the son.
The thing about kids these days is they are such digital citizens.  He completely expects that any photo or video recorded on my phone will make it onto the Internet somewhere and is disappointed when that doesn't happen.  When I video him on his scooter, dancing to a song or jumping on the tramp he is completely capable of introducing himself and presenting what will happen next with relative ease and confidence.  He expects to be able to skype Dad no matter where he is and can google maps with the best of them.

I asked him what he would like me to say about him?  He wasn't sure?  I thought it might be best to ask him some questions.  He paused and then agreed that might be a good idea.
"So tell me what is your favourite thing to do?" "Play with Lego"
"How about fave colour?"  "Black"
"Animal"  "Zebra"
"If you could eat one thing for the rest of your life" "Ice cream" no hesitation
"If you were stuck on a desert island, what 3 things would you take?" "Cars, Lego and Ice cream"
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"  "Don't know" like mother like son..I still don't know
"What do you like best about school?" "I like seeing my friends and I like making stuff like bats"
"Whats it like having older sisters?" "Annoying!!!"
"Wheres the best place you've been on a plane?" "Probably Samoa cause it was really hot and we had our own private beach"
"If you had $100 what would you do with it?" "I would buy a pet.  A hamster and with the money left over I would buy another hamster for my friend"
"Where do you think you will live when you get older?" "I will live in Paraparaumu so I can see my Nana and Grandad and my cousins and I would sell pillow pets"
"Do you think you will get married?" "I don't know" he gets all embarressed when I ask stuff like this
"What do you think is the best bit about being a grown up?" "You can do anything you want"

Our son is one of those really nice kids, I'm probably a wee bit biased but the facts are he just is.  He is kind, funny and clever.  He loves school, sports, his friends and all of his family.  He is polite when it counts and a total goofball.  He has this face he pulls when he is hysterically laughing, which can't help but make me join him.
He has always loved animals.  He has two huge containers full of little plastic ones of every sort of species.  He's very attached to his soft toys and cannot cope without ALL of them on his bed to sleep with every night. the count to date is 26 I tried to put half on a shelf just across from his bed so he could still see them but have the other half of his bed back for stretching out and sleeping.  He was devastated.  Eyes welled up.  Chin was quivering.  Silent tears flowed.  The betrayal on his face when he looked at me was too much to bare.  "They will be lonely" he sobbed "They are scared of heights" he choked out.  All toys were put back.  The world was righted again.  Phew.  
We went to a movie once about some real life Cheetah cubs, my heart dropped when only 20 minutes into it the music started indicating something bad was about to happen "Mum lets go now!" he couldn't get out of there fast enough.  
When he was only about 3 and his goldfish died.  He spent a long time lying on his bed sobbing into his pillow.  Heart completely broken. 
He is also that kid who loves to dance and has no shame at school discos or in the middle of the lounge.  He will pull out some sort of river dance/hip hop/80's robot fusion and doesn't care who's watching.  He has just started loving scootering to school on his own in the mornings we live two blocks directly up from the school When I check he has got his jacket or hat he rolls his eyes and says in his most exasperated voice "when are you going to stop worrying about me?" Sorry mate I can't imagine that day will ever come
We are very lucky we get to watch this child grow up to be someone who makes this world a brighter place and are so happy to have a boy who makes us laugh loudly every day.  Keep on roking your uniqueness my son.  We like you a lot xx

Almost Pets

I have this thing I find myself doing when I get bored or have too much time on my hands.  I like to almost buy pets.  I can spend hours on Trade Me when the kids are in bed and the husband is away scrolling through the Pet pages searching for our next addition.  Dogs? We have 2.  Another Cat perhaps? I completely dig my cat but I'm not sure she would be very welcoming to another moggy.  More Chooks? I'm not sure any would come close to my sassy girls and they shit a lot so no.  Another Budgie? This maybe the answer just to curb my appetite.  I've done the Rabbit and Guinea Pig thing in the past.  Pretty obvious piece of advice but don't get a boy and a girl.  Holy Shit they breed a lot! I was up to my armpits in speedy little hair balls.  I was having flash backs of the gremlin movie. Every time it rained I had visions of the little fuckers scuttling inside and eating my face off *shudder. Pretty much once my kids got bored with them it was left up to me to throw some lettuce in and move the hutch from spot to spot on the lawn leaving festering rectangles of poo and manky old straw in their wake. Boring!
 Goldfish are a pretty stink pet as well. It's all enthusiasm when your at the pet store and the kids are all like "yay I want the white one" and "I want the one with the googly eyes" "I want that fat orange one with the stripe on its tail" but the novelty soon wears off and after making sure the cat doesn't eat them every day and cleaning out the sludge in the tank 5 or 6 times you are pretty much ready to celebrate when the shit house earthquake sends the whole thing flying off the shelf putting us all out of our misery. Thank you Universe.
The 7yr old goes on about wanting a mouse. I'm tempted to say "be careful what you wish for" and shutting him in the pantry cause there appears to be some disgusting little rodent having quite the party in our bread crumbs and flour each evening judging by the hundreds of little poos littering the floor. Traps are set. It's like the matrix down there yet it seems to get the cheese off without losing his head. Little Bastard.
So I'll continue to troll through the ads and dream of the day when we finally get a large piece of land way out in the wop wops somewhere so I can fill it up with all sorts of hairy beasts bliss

'Different' not 'Wrong'

I was having a conversation with the husband this morning about how far we have come in our relationship.  Anyone will tell you it takes a lot of work to have a successful one, success being the husband isn't smothered in his sleep.  It has taken many years for our little family to really Gel and compromise has been the best change I think.  It doesn't help having two strong personalities with kids attached suddenly all trying to work out where they fit in this busy new world.  I had survived perfectly well as a single parent with a girl child and girl cat Thank you very much.  So moving in with my best friend only to be told my way of folding towels was wrong or where in the fridge the butter should go was a hard concept to swallow. Being an anal Chef he actually labelled each shelf with vivid?! And one I fought against for a long time.  But he has since learnt to use the word 'different' instead of 'wrong'.  Example "Shelley you have a different way of folding tea towels from me" "Shelley you make the bed a different way" which saves a whole heap of head butting.
I have learnt it's just easier to fold the towels his way cause really I don't give a shit and if it makes him happy to have his t shirts folded in a certain way then happy days that's less washing to fold.
He has compromised on not freaking out about the power bill, due to how many loads I can do in the dishwasher in a day or how I like to have the lights on just for atmosphere or the fact that I like to turn my electric blanket on 6 hours before I need to go to bed.
I have learnt to not put his expensive knives in the dishwasher and he will eventually learn to take his suitcase straight to the bedroom when he gets home from his trips instead of leaving it in the lounge for 3 days.  He humors my OCD to keep my bench clear and just nods and smiles when new pets turn up.
There are just some things that suit some people to take care of and not others, like when we are going away I am in charge of shopping for the kids, packing the kids, sorting out the animals, packing for myself, making sure the house is clean before we leave and emergency numbers are written down.
He is in charge of packing himself and making a coffee before we walk out the door.  But say we were having a dinner party then he will slave away for hours creating every sort of kitchen amazing-ness while I have a shower, get changed and crank out a couple of chapters of my book.  See compromise.
Once you work out that you dig your partner for who they are and not what you want to change them into then life seems to take a much rosier outlook.
I think if the world compromised a bit more it would be a much happier place.  blah blah Pick and Choose your battles.  blah blah Don't sweat the small stuff.  blah blah but so true.

Two Things

There's two things I'm fast at.  And neither of them is Running.  The First is Reading.  Everyone tells me that and I believe them.  I can easily do 5 or 6 books on a good month.  Sometimes 2 or 3 books a week if I'm really neglecting my family.   It has a lot to do with the husband being away so much.  I can stay up until 2am if its a good page turner and hes not lying next to me moaning about the light being on or "your turning the pages too loud" blah blah.  The Second is Touch Typing.  I'm really glad I suffered through typing all my years at High School.  Remember learning on actual old school typewriters that the scraggy old teacher made you put a piece of paper over your hands so you couldn't see the letters and the 'a' was so far over you nearly dislocated your pinky trying to reach it.  We had to use twink or those little bits of twink paper which you typed over if you made a mistake.  So it took like 25 minutes to correct one word.  OMG am I 85? And then when the electric typewriters came in with the screens it was like technology was suddenly so freaken advanced.
Back to the running thing.  The husband always says to me "Don't run! if your in a hurry you can maybe pull off a slow jog but that's as far as you should take it".  He's right.  I have one of those really ugly Girl Runs.  I can feel the unco-ordination but I can't control it.  It's like I'm Usain Bolt trapped in Susan Boyles body.  And if I have a handbag or carrying shopping then sweet Jesus I'm pretty much channelling Frank Spencer.
I've never enjoyed running or any form of competition.  I always hated 'Tag' I would just rather stop and stand still.  I wasn't much fun to play that game with.
I also get quite antsy under pressure and I sux at directions.  Its a gift actually.  If I have a choice to go one of two ways I will always, with out fail, choose the wrong one.  Even if I think about that and choose the opposite of what I think i would normally choose.  It will be wrong.  I do this stupid thing where I try to second guess my GPS like its going to be wrong or something? Its not wrong.  The pressure thing I blame on my mother.  She used to count when I was a child.  1...2...3...4... to get me to do something.  I remember feeling like my brain was about to explode from the anticipation.  Like really what was I expecting to happen? Have you met my mother? Lovely doesn't come close.  Well played on the psychological mind games Lynne.   I bloody do it myself now to my kids!
I could never be a contestant on 'The Amazing Race' imagine the husband driving and me reading a map.  The producers would keep us on just for ratings.  The one time the husband made me drive in Auckland it ended in tears.  I need to know what lane to be in 40 minutes before we need to change into it not 5 seconds before the turn.  Trust me, shouting "TURN NOW TURN NOW!!!" when I am in the middle of 4 lanes of rush hour traffic is only going to result in me stabbing you with the tree shaped air freshener. Never again.

Some Un-interesting things about me you might want to know...or not

1.  I have words that I find ugly so try not to use them.  'Macaroon' 'Flannel' and 'Bobble'.
'Macaroon' that weird biscuit I try to steer my trolley away from them in the supermarket.  If its got an ugly name I'm not putting it near my mouth.  There's a life lesson in that.  'Flannel' try 'Face Cloth' much better.  'Bobble' No. Lets go 'Hair Tie' which is nicer and you won't lose cool points using it in a sentence with another human being.

2.  I love inappropriate offensive jokes.  The more inappropriate and offensive the better.  I also love that I am one of those people you can send those sort of jokes too and you can be safe that I will piss myself out loud wherever I am.  There's only some people you can forward jokes like that too.  I'm glad I'm one of them.  I'm going straight to hell.

3.  I have mentioned this before but I don't do 'Broken Bones'.  I was in a first Aid course once and had to actually leave the room cause I got all hot and dizzy.  Don't take this as encouragement to tell me your disgusting bone stories.  They will make me frown.

4.  I love to mow my lawn and vacuum my floor.  If I could I would vacuum 3 times a day some days I do. 

5.  God I wish I could sing.  I can't.

6.  I look at my amazing children and can't believe someone put me in charge of raising them.  They may get a family discount for Therapy later in life.

7.  I have never even tried Coffee or Tea.  I tried my first ever slice of pavlova last Xmas.  I think my taste buds want a new human.

8.  Mean people Sux

9.  I find myself daydreaming about High School wishing I could go back again and have lunch with all my friends everyday.  I like their faces.

10.  I am looking forward to getting really old and living in a retirement village with all my bitches.

11.  My Husband is nice.  I still get butterflies sometimes.  I like him.

Can't teach an old dog new tricks

The husband has out done himself AGAIN! He was on school pick up duty for the 7yr old the other day so decided to skateboard down to meet the son.  I'm not sure where he thinks he lives these days?  but the footpaths in our area and pretty much the whole city are f*#@ed thanks to Mother Nature having a tanty in February last year.  It's no secret, it's not like the massive craters, cracks and lumps are hidden but somehow he managed to take a massive fall and waste his wrist, fingers, knuckles, knee and hip in a crack on the way home.  He limped in and proceeded to tell me to ring the council and tell them to come fix our footpath! ummm yeah pretty sure they know all about it judging by the shit loads of road works we encounter every second street we drive down and probably wouldn't have a repair department set aside for emergency try hard dad injuries anyway.   This is not the first time the husband has caned his body doing stuff he really shouldn't.  When the teenager had a party a couple of years back, he decided to show them all how to do a back flip on the trampoline. This stunt ended with broken ribs.  Another Trampoline injury was 4 days before our wedding, where he thought he could play wrestle with his younger cousin thereby putting his back out.  He spent the next 4 days having extensive physio and being a Groomzilla flat on his back on the lounge floor.  He is now banned from Trampolines.
Among these injuries he has also been choppered off the mountain after attempting a jump on his snowboard and can be found erecting random jumps at home trying to get the 7yr old to attempt them on his scooter by first showing him how its done *sigh
On the positive side, this sort of behavior gives the teenager plenty of chances to practise her St John first aid skills.  You should see her eyes light up at the sight of blood or a suspected broken bone.  It's like shes died and gone to heaven.  She told us how she had to help a girl at school who had fainted.  I can just picture her rushing to the front, elbowing the teacher out of the way and with a loud voice "GET BACK... I GOT THIS!"  I'm sure she carries her 'work place first aid level 2' card around in her wallet just so she can flash it like the FBI.
This kind of injury dedication does come in handy, particularly since I don't do broken bones.  Can't even talk about them, its probably one of the only things on the planet that makes me want to Vom then pass out.  Why is it that when I tell someone that, they start in on all their most revolting broken bone stories?? My stomach is churning even typing this.  I've always told my children "if you break a bone then you might as well head straight to the neighbours cause I'm not having a bar of it." Luckily for me and them this event hasn't happened yet *touch wood.

A Huge Thankyou

I am so excited I have a whole new look or at least my blog does.  If you get this on your email..then pop on over and check it out.  If your here already then Welcome!  Don't you just love! It makes me happy big!  I'm so pleased I stumbled onto Sharnee @ www.suckmylolly.com during my internet travels.  I just have to sing her praises.  You know when you get amazing, friendly service. Someone who replies to all your emails straight away, who listens to everything you want for your blog and someone who has awesome ideas and advice....Yup well I found her and now you and me get to reap the rewards.  This is my happy place x

Intrepid Journeys

This may become a bit of a travel blog soon.  I just looked at my mpass wanka iphone app for Air New Zealand Travellers and see I have a few flights booked. The husband and I are off to Melbourne next week for work but we can usually fit in plenty of play too. Boozy dinners at lots of cool restaurants are a must and in the past we have timed it with the Comedy fest or I have dragged him along to some amazing show like 'wicked' which he then proceeded to sleep through the whole first half?! Actually slept through it, as in head thrown back, mouth open, snorting and twitching! I tried to explain to the woman sitting next to him that he had Narcolepsy but I'm not sure she bought it. We will be leaving the teenager and her mate to house and petsit god help us She's done it before with no problems so I'm not too worried. I fill the freezer up with pies and easy microwave meals so she doesn't have to use the stove or any sharp implements. I just have to train the pooches to jump on her face to get her up in time for school each morning note to self 'Train Pooches' I figure we are pretty safe since my whole parenting style is a good combination of 40% fun and 60% 'putting the fear of god into them' Put it this way, I freaken love my house and all my stuff in it so if some little punk decides to disrespect my shit they better be able to run fast! I've always had the attitude that I completely trust her until I can't. Life can either be fun or it will SUX. Happy Days.
After the Aussie trip it's off to Kapiti for my Dads Birthday. I should find plenty of blog ammunition at that family weekend. As fun as those trips will be. I'm secretly fizzing about heading back to Wellington a month later for a girls weekend. Ill be spending it with my bridesmaids or my North Island Bitches as I affectionately referred to them in my wedding speech.  I apologise in advance to my liver but 'go hard or go home right?' or was it 'Eatings Cheating'? Pretty sure now that I have started this whole blogging caper the old saying 'What goes on tour stays on tour' is blown out the window!

Sometimes Stuff isnt so bad

For the 2000th time I curse the thing I call a handbag...it's a necessary evil..can't live with can't live without but I sure can fill it with crud. It's basically a mini garage *sigh.  Now on the outside my bags are gorgeous but on the inside they're screaming to be let out of the asylum. Today I have copious amounts of receipts, a table number tag (from a restaurant we went to last fri night I think??) pens, empty tictac packets, chewing gum wrappers, a lollipop, tweezers, itchy bite cream, two hot wheels cars, 6 mighty beans, my gloves, the 7yr olds gloves, a dog collar, my wallet, my phone and some ladies products.  When I want to change bags I just move the wallet and phone and leave the rest to marinate until its next needed.
On a bad day I fantasise about when my kids are raised and gone and all the peace, quiet and clean surfaces I will be able to enjoy but actually I think the bit I will miss the most when that day does come will be the bit that drives me the most mental.  Imagine walking into the bathroom and not having to have a shower over top of dinosaurs, lego boats and barbies.  Imagine brushing your teeth and not having to sift through batman toothbrushes and 7 different sorts of toothpastes and without little rubber snakes staring up from the plug hole.  Imagine not seeing 5 different shampoos & conditioners littered throughout the bathroom.  Imagine not having mascarer pencil shavings all over the floor.  Imagine not smelling nail polish and deoderant down the hallway in the mornings.  Imagine not having to pick little green army men out of the pot plants.  Imagine not having to pick up 9 different Hot wheels cars from amongst the wine rack and imagine not tripping over 10 pairs of shoes been dumped at the front door.  Imagine not having to vacuum up hair clips, earrings, barbie shoes and lego bits.  Imagine not having to mow over plastic hippos and little fire engines.  Imagine not getting desperate texts in the middle of day to bring forgotten lunchboxes/homework/wallets to school.  Imagine walking down the hallway and not hearing three different types of music being played at high volume from all their bedrooms.  Imagine not seeing all those little angry notes that get left outside the doors when you've told them off...Maybe I wont imagine that day coming anytime soon.  Maybe my bad days aren't really so bad.

Road Rules

I'm a pretty good driver...no Greg Murphy or anything, I haven't had any accidents with other cars, other cars have had accidents with mine however.  A girl smashed into my old 4WD when it was parked outside our house, pushing it into the neighbours fence and writing it off..silver lining..Got paid out a pretty decent insurance claim for a car, which before the crash was on its last legs and wasn't really even worth $500...Hello my lovely BMW.
My biggest peeve when driving the streets are people who don't indicate.  Don't be that person!  I think I'm a bit OCD on indicating.  I indicate the arse off my world.  I'll even indicate at midnight with no other cars around just to pull into my driveway.  So you can imagine my delight when out one morning I came across a little old lady who felt the need to 'Double Rainbow' her right hand turning option...indicator flashing AND a straight arm out her window!  Grandma I 'fist pump' your effort to make sure all us other drivers knew exactly what your intentions were!!!
The complete opposite of that lady was the gentlemen (?) stopped in front of me and six other cars at a red light, who took that opportunity to open his car door and 'Vom' onto the road.  Piece of advice sir, giving me a little smile and a wave will never make what I witnessed OK...but as someone who in the very distant past has herself suffered from ugly morning sickness and has had to drive to work some days with an ice cream container on her lap, where upon stopping and sneakily emptying it into the nearest bush...I try not to judge too harshly.

Late night run to the Servo

There's been plenty of times we have been out at friends houses or after a boozy night in town and like the rest of the hoards of tired, wobbly people heading home...pass a beacon of light...your local service station! It says it all 'service' at a station minus the trains or smiley conductors of the 1940s.  And pretty much from 11pm onwards, when the doors lock and you get served through that night pay window,  you can take the 'service' part off the title too.  Perhaps 'Grumpy-I-hate-my-job-and-all-my-customers' station would better suit. I don't blame them, it would SUX to have to first translate what drunkards are saying "Heeeey mate, calan ou hoook mi upppsh shome piiiis" and then run around grabbing drunk peoples munchies just for them to change their minds about flavours or colours or 'make it 3 of those' only to have to wait for them to find their cash cards, drop them, search around to find them again..get their hands stuck in the metal box when the eftpos machine comes out and after all that it declines.  I know it freaken suxs being the chick stuck behind that person waiting to just get a loaf of bread.  And how many times do the people on the late night drive-thru at BK or dodgy old McDs have to nod and smile at the dicks who decide it would be hilarious to walk the drive-thru (some of those dicks are actually very nice people, who have respectable day time lives and children and just wanted a cheeseburger..so I've heard??)
There is always some sort of 1st world drama we encounter whenever the husband decides we need some drive-thru greasies on the way home..."coke machine is broken"..."that's a breakfast item"..."do you have the actual coupon for the deal you saw on tv"...."there's a 2 hour wait on that" exaggerating a tad but it felt like it at 2am or the latest being they had run out of the one burger the husband wanted.  He got his angry eyes on and threw his toys out of the cot "I don't want anything then!" was loudly with a four letter word thrown in for good measure huffed into the black box and then proceeded to hoon out of the drive-thru in true pissed off fashion. Unfortunately when we turned the corner to exit we found we were stuck behind 4 cars waiting for their orders...Awkward! I don't think I even tried to stifle my giggles and then rung two friends to tell them as well! After much waiting and a nice mandatory cooling off period the other cars got out of the way and the husband decides there was a burger that could make him happy so ordered after all and we headed home. I'm surprised they don't have a photo of our car on their wall with a warning sign above it.

Slave Labour with a Smile

At our house we are a bit OTT on the technology buzz...its probably fair to call us 'Apple Sluts' due to the amount of Apple products we own and worship. 3 iphones, an ipod, an ipod touch, ipod shuffle, ipad and 3 Mac Lappys take up a pretty decent chunk of our lives. Whilst spending quality time on one of the above mentioned Laptops (my one..shes white and matches my phone), I came across the most fabulous app on iTunes called 'You Rule Chores'.  Perfect for kids aged 5-11. Best $5.29 I've ever spent. It's basically a way of my dream of becoming a 'Traveller' Mother (minus the caravan, 8 kids and the bright sequined wardrobe) to be a reality.

 
How it works is you add in different daily jobs for the kids which when completed give them cyber coins, they choose a pretty funky avatar which powers up after so many jobs are done and then it's a race to the weekly finish line...nothing like a bit of sibling competition to get my washing folded.
This app is so clever I've got kids begging for more jobs just to click them off on my phone. At the end of the week if they have managed to earn a certain amount of coins, each rugrat gets to choose a reward...lego time with Dad...a trip to the park...an ice cream or more computer time (my kids don't need that one) anything they want really.
This app is getting my bathroom sink cleaned 3 times a week..loads of firewood bought in...washing folded...beds made...school bags unpacked..dishwasher done...rooms cleaned...mental Dogs walked...the list goes on and on. Lots of the jobs are standard ones they do anyway but now they get virtual coins for it.  All I have to do is sit back throw in a "good job" every now and then..referee a couple of fights over who's turn it is to use my phone to click off their jobs and while all my housework is being done and my children are practising their skills to go work in a sweat shop, I can get back to saving up for my 15 yr olds wedding dress, all from the safety and comfort of my couch

My new job as an Olympic Commentator

So have you heard the Olympics is on?! The entire Universe is consumed by it...and from someone who has never played sport (unless you count when I was 11 and in the D Netball team at primary school - pretty sure D team is code for Vege Team) and who has never really watched sport (except for back in high school when it was cool to spend hours and hours of mind numbing boredom watching the boyfriend play cricket *yawn but was really only there to work on my tan and hope for a quick pash in the bushes during drinks breaks.)  I am freaken loving it!  Its crazy how someone with no sporting prowess can suddenly become more of an expert than the actual team coaches.
At some points during the night, I have a sudden urge to get on a plane and rip that whistle out of their expert hands and show them how its done.  The husband sends me off to bed when the swimming comes on...don't get me started on our swimmers.  I thought the Olympics was THE sporting event in any one's career, so I don't get how they can be 2 seconds off their best when it comes time to pull some fins out of your ass. (excuse the angry talk)
I do have to turn away at the weight lifting however, I just keep visualising arms snapping or knees popping (I feel dizzy thinking about it....deep breath in deep breath out).  Shall we talk about the Ping Pong?! (or Table Tennis if you want to be all official) O the joy of it to watch. I love everything about it (maybe cause I can see that if only I'd put a bit more work into the table we had out in the garage when I was 10, I too could be at these games,  sporting the essential bowl cut - I think that cut shaves 10 secs off their time? - I heard that somewhere? Maybe it was a different sport..I don't know!
So far I've been lucky and haven't had to venture too far into the whole Saturday morning kids sport thing..the teenager is showing signs of being a sloth just like her mother but the younger two seem to totally dig running around and getting sweaty. Stink to be my kids cause I don't do 'mornings' or 'cold.' I was never destined to be Micheal Phelps's Mama.   Jesus the effort and sacrifice she must of put in..hope he bought her some good shit to say Thanks.
As I type this we have mightily achieved 3 Thirds and 3 Well-Rowed Firsts.  I have high hopes that all my yelling and hand gestures should definitely produce another couple of those Gold Ones in the up coming days...You can thank me with a parade at the end.
 

C'MON THE KIWIS!!!!!!!

An important part of Table Tennis is praying the wind doesn't change

Unfortunate :(

Bring back the Awkward age....

As my birthday approaches and I head further into my later life (I'm 35) I have gained the wisdom to reflect on my awkward teenage years.  I'm doing this because now that I have my own teenager (Devils sporn).. I look at her and her friends and they just don't seem to be going through this stage, which really doesn't seem fair or right.  They are all gorgeous and sparkly, I'm wondering if zits have been genetically modified out due to all the preservatives in our food these days as they don't even seem to have any of those?
At 11 or 12,  I was wearing bubble gum jeans, Poo Pants and kung fu shoes.  At 13 and 14, I was strutting out in trackies with an MC Hammer T-shirt and thick white slouch socks teamed with Boat shoes or Subways (*cool talk 'subs').  We had random hairstyles and bushy eyebrows.  One thing I will say was "Thank god we had no Facebook or digital cameras back in my day".  If you took a photo back then, it took 3 weeks to develop cost you 40 bucks and then you pretty much missed the subject and either filled the photo up with the top of someones head and a lot of sky or your mates shoes and grass.  The beauty of this is that I wasn't alone, I had fantastic friends who were all roking out the same or equally damaging fashion statements.
 My 21st was littered with traumatic proof of my cringe worthy teenage angst. I assumed that when I grew up I would be able to pass this right of passage of being humiliated in front of all your friends and family, on to my own children.  I was really looking forward to it.
My first job at 15, was wearing a green sack and being one of the bored minyins sitting on an itchy chair getting paid $2.49 per hour to scan and bag your weekly groceries...Yip I was a check out chick.  Pulling off my own fingernails would have been more entertaining.  The Teenagers first job looks like it might be working at 'Cotton On' or 'Factorie' where they get 50% off the clothes they all buy anyway and where the music is played so loud I can hear it from the other end of the mall (jeez what a grandma) So she will get to dress up and have a dance party with her friends, all while getting paid pretty well and still no ammunition for her 21st.  Wheres the life lesson in that? I think having a shit first job and dodgy wardrobe makes you the person you are today??

I would've added a photo of me back in the day to prove the title of this blog but I left all my crap in my parents garage...hmm do I see a pattern emerging?! 

Rip Off Trackies?? The only people who were in that much of a hurry to get out of their pants should've been Athletes or Strippers and I was neither!

Skills

 

The Husband has many skills…creating culinary masterpieces, selling ice to Eskimos, masacaring the back garden, starting jobs and not finishing them, pinching pennies, being able to fit extraordinary amounts of free booze/muffins/rolls/biscuits in his carry on luggage from the Koru Lounge but by far his most interesting is his ability to turn anything into a sexual innuendo.

He can take any innocent statement and when repeated with a suggestive voice and raised eyebrows suddenly takes on a whole new disturbing (but cute in a trailor park kind of way) vibe. 

Me “Can you put your washing away?”

Him “I’ll put yooor washing away!” (eye brows raised..sly smile..intense stare)

Me “umm I mean can you pick up your clothes and put them away?”

Him “How about I pick you up and put you away!” (really?!)

Me “can you put your dishes straight into the dishwasher?”

Him “How about I put your dishes straight into the dishwasher!” (thanks that would be helpful if you hadn’t said that like a serial killer!?)

It’s a gift!…I’m wanted!

Welcome Home Old Girl

We are world famous for our knack of filling up double garages with large amounts of stuff.  I can probably count on one hand the amount of times our actual vehicles have felt the warmth and security of a closed in space. 
Since moving to the Garden City or Shaky Town as we can now affectionately refer to it, we have very quickly filled up any designated car homes with utter crap that we don't want to throw away or even sort out (in fact I go as far as to block my ears, cover my eyes and sing the national anthem anytime the husband begins to start looking like he might want me to enter it with him) but I loudly refuse to have any of it seen in our home (bless the saying "out of sight out of mind" its my unofficial mantra) Whenever friends would venture into the portal of doom I would often hear cries of "Jesus you've got a lot of shit in here!"....9 years of doing this has suddenly gone by and after moving the 'Hoarders dream' from house to house and island to island it was finally time to face the music.  Now don't be thinking, we suddenly got all motivated and mature...O No...We always need a bit of pressure and seem to work better under it.  EQC provided us with just that.
Unfortunately due to the rat-ass earthquakes we have had and the shit-house damage they have caused, we finally had to acknowledge the existence of the husbands life project and our retirement transport, his old Kombi, which has definitely seen better days and which has been bravely sheltering in his brothers garage (its been in there for 4 years...we probably owe him a bit for storage costs or at the very least a box of beers) the garage is going to be ripped down so the old girl had to move back home with us.  The husband suggested putting her on the lawn outside our bedroom window.  Suddenly cleaning out the garage seemed like a bloody good option.  But to do this, the garage had to have a major overhaul.  And to do that we needed *a bit (translation *a lot) of help from the MIL also note that in most occasions when I use the term 'we' I mean 'he' or 'they' cause I pretty much poked my head in a couple of times, chucked out an enthusiastic "Wow!" "that's amazing!" "look at you go!" and then headed back inside.
Dump runs were a plenty, boxes were gone through just to repack into another box and then put up in the roof, there were lots of eye rolling and some huffing but the job got done.
I managed to keep lots of fun stuff for my future grandchildren (that's where the eye rolling and huffing came in) and had a very cool walk down memory lane with the teenager.

I realise we will just have to do this all over again with the stuff in the roof one day but by then maybe my kids will be raised and gone and will want to take some of the shit with them.
A Hoarding legacy for future generations.

From this.....

to this....one day!